The Guy Next Door - By Lori Foster, S Donovan, V Dahl Page 0,14
his back to her, Jett asked, “Are you going to keep taking jabs at my profession?”
“What? No!” She hadn’t meant it that way at all. “I wasn’t ridiculing your work.”
“Yeah, you were.”
That annoyed her. “Wrong, Sherlock.”
He eyed her.
“Sorry. Figure of speech.” Natalie sighed. “I just don’t like having anyone snoop into my business without permission.” She looked beyond him to the open bathroom door. This was going to be tricky.
Why had no one ever told her about cleanup?
His gaze turned speculative, intent. “Hang around awhile and I’ll explain about that.”
Hang around—to be with Jett, to just talk, to learn more about him.
Oh, she wanted to, she really did.
But before she could even think about that… “Jett, I, ah…need to make a dash into the bathroom.”
As her meaning sank in, his expression lightened. He smiled at her. “Stay put, honey. I’ll take care of it.”
Appalled, Natalie watched as he went into the bathroom. Through the open door she saw him dampen a washcloth under running water.
No way.
When he came back to her side of the bed, Natalie snatched up the sheet to cover herself. “What do you think you’re going to do?”
“Clean you.”
“Oh no, you are not.”
As if she hadn’t spoken at all he sat beside her, one hand on her thigh, his demeanor one of pure masculine possession. “I don’t skip condoms, Natalie. Ever.”
They had that in common. “Me, either.”
He coasted his hand up and down her thigh. “Even though you’re on the pill?”
With the washcloth held in his free hand, concentrating on the conversation took effort. “Doubling up is safer, and besides, pregnancy is only one concern these days.”
“True enough.”
And honestly, she hadn’t been with that many men. For a twenty-seven-year-old woman, her sexual experiences were few and far between.
He studied her with lowered brows and grave intensity. “But you let me.”
They both knew they’d just crossed some boundaries into new intimacy. Very softly she replied, “Yes.”
Still holding her captive in his gaze, Jett whipped the sheet away from her, causing her to yelp. “I think you and I are going to share a lot of firsts together.”
She tried to block his hands, but he laughed until he got her pinned down then coaxed her, saying softly, “Let me.”
And she caved.
Jett didn’t realize it, but he’d already been her first in many ways. Her first fling. Her first orgasm—at least through intercourse. Her first spontaneous encounter. Her first time being tied.
And now this.
It unnerved her, the complete and varied ways she enjoyed him. But it also felt so right.
She didn’t fight him as he cleaned her body. She didn’t look away from him either. What she’d expected to be horribly awkward just…wasn’t.
Not with Jett.
He was so earthy, so comfortable with all things sexual, that he put her at ease with his attitude alone.
When he finished, he kissed the inside of her thigh then cupped his hand over her. “I like taking care of you.”
Natalie wanted to touch him, to go to her knees and kiss him.
To have him again.
She started to move and he said, “Be right back.” He returned to the bathroom but was gone only a few minutes.
Natalie stared at the ceiling, attempting to sort her thoughts, to order her priorities.
He returned to his side of the bed, sitting with one leg bent on the mattress, his gaze all over her body again. Neither of them could ever deny the physical attraction—it showed whenever they were together, in the way they watched each other, how they touched and that sharp level of awareness.
“Before we get sidetracked again, tell me that you’re going to stay.”
She wanted to pull him down to her, but she held herself in check. “How long?”
At her reply, his shoulders stiffened. “Is it really asking so much?”
Of course it wasn’t. She felt like a heel. “Sorry. As you said earlier, old habits die hard.”
One brow rose up. “Meaning you’re used to deflecting guys in bed after they’ve just had sex with you?”
That brought her to her knees. She poked a finger at his chest. “Don’t you dare judge me, Jett Sutter! You can’t very well claim inexperience.”
He eyed her breasts. “No.” Catching her finger, he tugged her closer. “But you’re different from every other woman I’ve been with, so I sure as hell don’t want to be the same as every other guy.”
Oh, God. He wasn’t. Molly gave an exasperated sigh. “What I meant is that I’m not used to letting anyone get close, regardless of the circumstances.”
“Not even family?”
She didn’t want to explore