Sunset in Central Park (From Manhattan with Love #2) - Sarah Morgan Page 0,70

legs entwined with his. She felt the graze of body hair and the solid weight of muscle trapping her against him. Her body felt heavy and unfamiliar, as if he’d taken it apart and put it together again differently. It had been less a slow seduction than a wild unraveling. There were aches and tingles she didn’t recognize. Feelings she didn’t recognize.

She’d never craved intimacy, but now she’d experienced it she wondered how she’d lived without it.

“I have a confession.”

“Hmm?” His eyes were closed. He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d devoted himself to disproving every belief she had about herself.

“I do like sex.”

“No kidding. I may never be able to move from this bed again. I’ll probably live but it’s too soon to be sure.” His arm was locked around her, and she felt the delicious pressure of his leg on hers.

There was nothing in Matt’s words to cause her anxiety, but still she sensed a subtle change in him that she couldn’t identify. She decided it was probably down to her own inexperience. What did she know about the way men usually behaved after sex? Nothing.

“Are you wishing we hadn’t crossed the line?” she asked.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her, a ghost of a smile on his mouth. “Which line is that? I think we crossed a few.”

She felt heat seep into her cheeks. “The line between friends and lovers.”

“Ah—that one. No. Are you?”

She decided she could happily drown in those ocean-blue eyes.

“No.” Looking at him made her feel dizzy with longing. “What happens now?”

“Right now? I lie here and hope my heart rate eventually returns to normal. I’ll let you know when that happens.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Honey, so am I.” He shifted onto his elbow so that he could see her properly. “What would you like to happen now?”

“I only have limited experience to draw on, but normally at this point the man says, ‘Thanks, I’ll call you,’ and then walks out and never calls.”

“I don’t have the energy to haul myself across the room to get a glass of water, let alone walk out the door. And I’m naked.” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Which is a complication.”

“Once you’ve recovered your strength it’s still an option.”

“It’s not an option for me.” He lowered his head and gave her a lingering kiss. “I’ve known you a long time, Frankie. I know you think relationships always end badly, but ours isn’t going to. Stop thinking about it.”

“Okay.” She desperately wanted to ask him if he meant their relationship wasn’t going to end badly, or wasn’t going to end at all, but she knew that question was wildly inappropriate so she bit her tongue and said nothing. She was craving reassurance and hated the feeling.

He stroked his fingers gently across her cheek. “There are a million things I could say to you now, but it’s not the right time.”

So there was something wrong.

“Tell me.”

He shook his head. “No.” He eased away from her and her heart bumped.

She’d known he was hiding something. “I want to know what you’re feeling.”

“You’re not ready to hear how I’m feeling, but let’s just say I’m not going anywhere. Will you do me a favor?”

“I already did. Several times.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I might be. But obviously I’m a flirting virgin so I’ll need you to be gentle with me.”

He gave a slow smile and lowered his mouth to hers. “I can be gentle if I need to be.” And his kiss was just that. A slow, gentle stirring of her senses that soon had the blood throbbing through her veins. Just when she thought she was going to explode, he lifted his head. “Stop worrying, Frankie. Stop analyzing everything and enjoy the moment.”

She wondered if the reason he wanted her to focus on the moment was because he knew it wasn’t going to last. Was that what he thought she wasn’t ready to hear?

Crap, what was wrong with her?

She was in bed with the sexiest man on the planet, who showed no signs of walking out, but still she was lying here waiting for that to happen.

He was right. She needed to stop analyzing, and she needed to stop using her mother’s butterfly approach to relationships as an example of normal.

“If all the moments are going to be as good as the ones we just had, I guess I could do that.”

He hauled her under him in a possessive gesture and she gasped as he