“Oh, I’m very good,” she said.
“I want to make it clear to you that you’re more to me than Matthew’s little sister. I think the world of you. You know that, right?”
His words, so sincere, so deep, left her breathless. “I . . . I can’t say I do know that. But it feels good to hear.”
“You’re one of the people who makes me believe in the good of this world. I think basically all of those people share your last name.”
She huffed slightly. “Well, is it me or is it my family?”
“Let’s put it this way—no one else in your family is here. It’s you. So yes, your family may feel a certain way about people, about connection. But you’re the only one who . . .”
She laughed. “In fairness, I’m the only one who would’ve been available to you, who would also be your type.”
“It’s not like that.”
She let him lead her into the house. Hank followed them and immediately jumped up onto the couch, unperturbed by whatever they might be planning.
She knew that no matter what, she would never regret this. It wasn’t possible. It was something that she had wanted for a very long time. Him.
“Kiss me.”
So he did, right there in the entryway of his house, first with his hands spanning her waist, then moving up her back, before he wrapped his arms around her entirely and brought her in close as he consumed her.
It was far more intense than she had ever imagined a kiss could be. And if she had any insecurity about him not wanting her, about this not being what he really wanted, it was laid to rest nicely at the altar of that kiss.
She looked at him, and her whole body felt strung out on a wire. Pulled as tight as it could possibly go without snapping.
Because this was Remington Lane, a man she had known most of her life. A man she had cared for, over so many years. Looking both familiar and like a stranger all at once.
The very object of her fantasies and also an enigma she didn’t think she had ever truly known until this moment. After all, did you really know a man when you didn’t know what he tasted like? How he kissed?
How he made love.
The very idea made her shiver, shudder.
Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing. But they had transformed this thing between them into something new, something magical, and she had been part of that. So maybe she wasn’t as inept as she feared.
His hands moved over her body, and she arched against him, ready for everything, ready for him.
She had been, for years.
He pushed his hands up underneath her dress, his rough palms scraping against her skin. She gasped.
When he parted from her, he was breathing heavily, raggedly. She could see that he was on the edge of his control. There was barely any left, if there had ever been any at all.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her fingers through his hair and shivering.
He propelled them both down the hallway, to his bedroom. It was neat and immaculate, the same as the rest of the house.
The sight made her heart ache, just slightly.
He had made a beautiful facsimile of a home, but he didn’t think that he deserved to have a family. He took such pains to exercise ruthless control over all of his surroundings. It was evident in every detail of this place.
But he had brought Hank in.
Yes, out of a sense of duty because of what his father had done, but also because he just cared. At the end of the day, Remington Lane was a good man. He always had been. And she had always known it. It was why she could trust him now with her body. Oh, how she wished that she could trust him with her heart.
Yes, she wished that.
