Incipient A Dark Paranormal Romance - Bianca Scardoni Page 0,57

No. I hardly noticed any of that, what with my eyes all but glued to his naked upper body.

His still-wet, water-beads-cascading-down-his-gloriously-bare naked upper body.

“Was that too long?” he asked as he walked across the room and tossed his clothes into the hamper.

“Huh? No. Not at all,” I answered croakily as I tried not to stare at him when he walked back the other way to his dresser and pulled a folded t-shirt from the second drawer.

But of course, I stared and gawked because not looking at him was almost as impossible as not falling for him.

Dear lord, please make him sleep shirtless tonight.

“On or off?” he asked as if reading my mind.

“Off,” I answered far too quickly to be considered normal. “It’s pretty hot tonight,” I added, hoping that would make it more believable, even though my toes were nearly frozen solid under the blankets.

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked as he threw his t-shirt over his head and jammed his arms through the sleeve, flinging my X-rated hopes and dreams for the evening right out of the window.

Also… “Huh?” I was beyond confused.

He turned and met my eyes. Or you know, caught me watching him, his own expression inscrutable. Neither one of us said anything as we looked at each other, seemingly trapped in a maelstrom of tunnel vision.

Oh, my god, stop staring at him! I screamed at myself. Stop staring and say something! “You look really…” Good. Kissable. Delicious. Sexy as hell. “Clean,” I finished awkwardly, my mouth feeling dryer than a cotton ball.

His dimples pressed in as he suppressed a laugh. “Thanks?” he answered, though it definitely sounded more like a question than a reply. The blush returned to my cheeks with a vengeance and I was sure Trace had noticed it.

Chagrined, I broke eye contact, but my gaze quickly returned, as though I couldn’t stand to look away.

He worked his jaw in quiet contemplation and then grabbed the remote from his desk before turning on the television. “So, lights off?” he verified, cocking his head to the side.

“The lights?” And then it hit me. He had been asking me if I wanted the lights on or off—not his shirt. Resisting the urge to face-palm myself, I nodded and said, “Yup. Off’s good.”

He paused, a half-smile tinkering with his lips. “What did you think I was talking about?”

“What? Nothing. I mean, I thought you were talking about the lights, and you were, so we were totally on the same page.” My blush morphed into a balls-out inferno on my face. “So, how about that movie?”

He gave me another weird, assessing look and then nodded. Pushing a hand through his hair, he flicked the desk lamp off and walked around the bed to his makeshift one on the floor.

“You can lay down on the bed with me. To watch the movie.” I had no idea why I’d blurted that out, or why our earlier kiss was somersaulting through my mind like a clown on crank, but my heart was violently beating in my chest because of it. “I mean, if you want to.”

His focus dropped to my lips and lingered there. “Are you sure?” he asked, working his jaw again, as though he didn’t trust my invitation or the intention behind it. Or maybe he just didn’t trust that I meant it.

His question made me pause, though. Was I sure? What was I even doing right now? Wasn’t this precisely what I was trying to avoid in order to protect him? Then again, we’d kissed, twice now, and nothing bad had happened. That had to stand for something, right?

“Yeah, I mean, we’re just watching a movie, right? It’s no big deal.” I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince more in that moment, him or myself? Whatever. So what if I wanted to be a little closer to him. Was that really so wrong?

Hadn’t I earned at least that?

And yet he still wasn’t moving. Just watching me with those wistful eyes of his.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to,” I said, feeling stupid for even asking him. “I just felt bad that you have to watch it from the floor. Just forget I said anything.” I looked away, turning my attention to the home screen of his television, wishing I could melt into a puddle of water and just disappear into the mattress.

Quiet settled over the room and then he shuffled forward, the bed dipping from his weight. I knew he was laying

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