When she would have walked off, he grabbed her arm. “Don’t. I made the mess. Let me clean it up.”
With one hand, he pushed her shorts down her legs until they hung around her thighs.
Fuck, she wasn’t wearing any panties, and her pert ass was totally bare.
Before that thought could roll through him and awaken his libido again, he yanked her tank over her head.
She shrieked. “I have to be naked for this?”
“It’ll work better if I can actually get to your skin.” He swept the damp cloth over her back, into the sexy hollow at the base of her spine, over the firm globes of her ass. He’d take any excuse to put his hands on the sweet flare of her hip and run a finger up the shadowy line bisecting her backside, where he was pretty sure no man had ever taken her . . .
“That’s enough.” She pulled away.
Prickly. Okay, he’d stepped over the line. He’d meant to comfort and release her. Instead, he’d almost molested her. If he wanted to ever touch her again, he was going to have to downshift, go slower. With her, that was so hard. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but it felt damn good to hold you. I’m not going to apologize for something I don’t regret.”
Del grunted as she stripped off the shorts and grabbed a towel from the bathroom. She tucked it around herself as she made her way to her duffel, picking through the garments. He rinsed out his shorts, throwing a little soap on them. The silence was tight and awkward.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He frowned at the thought.
“Of course not.”
“So you’re mad because I touched you without permission or because you got off?”
“Because we don’t need this complication now. Someone is trying to kill me, and—”
“Not right this second. The only person in the world who knows exactly where we are is Alyssa. You’re safe.” He walked toward her, as naked as the day he’d been born. “So tell me what this is really about?”
“This—us—isn’t a good idea.”
“Why? When did I ever hurt you?”
Guilt crossed her face. “You didn’t. I probably hurt you by shutting you out. And I know it’s not fair of me to paint you with Eric’s brush, but you were best friends. I’m just not ready to be . . . involved again.”
“So no one has been taking care of your needs, Del?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah? Who’s going to hold you, make you feel desirable, protected, and adored?”
“I’m too busy to worry about any of that. Divorce and parenting by yourself sort of kills the sex drive.”
“Yours seems to be working fine now.”
“Bastard!” She yanked a pair of panties and a T-shirt from the heap of her duffel. “I can’t believe you want to talk about my sex drive before you ask about the birth of your son. But it’s you, so I should.”
“Oh, we’re going to talk about Seth, too. I want to know everything I missed in his life. But let’s finish one conversation before we start another.”
“That’s easy. This conversation is over.”
“And you’re pissed off at me, why? Because I made you feel something for me that you’re afraid of?”
“No,” she insisted.
Tyler knew he’d hit a nerve but shrugged. “If you say so. Let’s see if you’d be less angry if I got you off with my tongue.”
Del gasped. When he reached for her, she hustled into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face. By the time she emerged again a few minutes later, all covered up, she looked composed and pristine. He supposed now wasn’t the right time to mention the love bite he’d accidentally left on her neck. He smiled.
“Are we going back to sleep or are we driving?” Her tense face and posture warned him to back off.