“Believe me, I could say worse. But you must trust Connor to some extent, or you wouldn’t be dating him.”
“True.” Maybe they’d discover that Las Vegas had been a fluke and the sex wasn’t nearly as good as she remembered. Of course, to figure that out they had to actually have sex again.
Which didn’t look like it was going to happen anytime soon.
*
Let’s go skiing,he’d said. It’ll be fun, he’d said. And it had been. Until the blizzard stranded them.
Sierra didn’t say it outright, but he could tell she wondered if he’d planned it. He wished he had. How the hell was he to know the blizzard would blow in twelve hours early? Good thing neither of them had work tomorrow. But here they were, trapped at a tiny hotel just outside of the ski area, lucky to get the one room they had left. They’d be sharing one bed. A queen bed, but still, one bed. At least it wasn’t a double.
He was ready to move forward. Hell, he’d been primed ever since the day he saw Sierra again. He couldn’t stop thinking about making love to her. Their night together had played in his head over and over for months. But he still wasn’t sure she was prepared to go all in. She’d said she wanted to take it slow, and damn it, he’d done that. But now he was beyond geared up for more.
Connor couldn’t decide whether something was going to happen tonight, or he should just go sleep in the bathtub. He hadn’t even kissed her yet, not really. Not since Vegas. A kiss on the cheek and a couple of quick good-night kisses didn’t count for much.
Vegas. Neither of them had been drunk that night. But then, neither of them had been stone-cold sober either. Like they were now. He’d almost certainly built up that night in his mind. It couldn’t have been as good as he remembered. So all of his thoughts about Sierra being the one for him were probably exaggerated too.
No matter how often he told himself that, he wasn’t sure he believed it.
But really, what was up with him? Why had he decided that Sierra was the one when he’d avoided committing to anyone since Casey died? Casey, who’d broken his heart right before she died.
Luckily, they’d managed to eat dinner at the lodge by the ski slopes. Not a particularly exciting dinner but decent food, nonetheless. They had no rooms available, though, which was why they were staying at the tiny hotel farther out. Connor had a go bag in his car, which he’d brought inside with him.
Sierra was standing at the window, staring out at the snow. He had no idea what she was thinking. Still trying to take it slow, he hadn’t planned to have sex with her yet. He wanted to but he’d thought it might happen naturally. But both of them were hesitating and that wasn’t a good sign. And now…he didn’t want to have sex because it was convenient. He wanted Sierra to want it as much as he did.
“I’m going to shower,” she said. “Unless you want it first.”
“You go ahead. I have an extra shirt if you want it to sleep in.”
“Thanks.” She held out her hand and he gave it to her. “The guy at the front desk gave me a toothbrush. Actually, he made me pay for it.”
“You’re kidding. Usually they’re complimentary.”
She shrugged. “Not this time. Maybe because I shut him down when he flirted with me. I mean, come on, he knows you and I are sharing a room.”
She went into the bathroom and closed the door. He heard the water come on and tried very hard not to think about her in there naked, with water sluicing over her. Running over her breasts, her stomach—Damn it! This wasn’t helping. He fished out the book he’d stuffed in his go bag. This one a thriller by a writer Cici had recommended. When he’d read the first page three times without comprehending a word, he tossed it aside.
Sierra came out of the bathroom wearing his white T-shirt and nothing else. He couldn’t have stopped looking at her on a bet. And judging by her satisfied smile, she knew it.
When he walked into the bathroom the first thing that hit him was the smell. Flowers. She’d used the sample the hotel left, which was fragrant and evocative. The jerk at the front desk must not have been in charge of that. Then he saw her bra and panties hanging up on the towel bar and choked. He yanked his gaze off them. Shit. Cold shower it was.
He hoped she’d be asleep when he opened the door, but she wasn’t. She sat in bed, with the covers pulled over her legs, flipping the TV remote between channels of static. “Bad news,” she said. “I think the blizzard took out the towers or whatever it is that gets the TV channels.”
“I’ve got a book.” He wore the jeans he’d had in the bag but no shirt.
“Of course you do. I don’t and I don’t have enough of a charge to read on my phone. So unless you have a charger in your handy-dandy go bag, I’m SOL. I guess we’ll have to talk.”
“Sorry. No charger. And I don’t want to talk.”
“What do you want to do?”
Instead of answering, he gazed at her a long moment. “I didn’t plan this, you know.”
“I know. But I wouldn’t have minded if you had.” She got out of bed and walked over to him. She put her hand on his chest and stroked it. “You have a great chest, you know.”
Her nipples showed through the thin cotton. He wanted to hold those full breasts in his hands, suck on her nipples until she writhed, run his hands everywhere, all over every inch of her silken skin. “Sierra, what are you doing?”
She smiled, sultry and inviting. “Well, Connor, I’m seducing you.”
