The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2) - Rosie Danan Page 0,79

a little mess? A couple of loose ends to underscore his humanity?

Hands braced on either side of the sink, she stared down her reflection. Her makeup was smudged in the happy, post-party way that reflected a night spent sweating on the dance floor and leaving her lipstick on the rim of cocktail glasses and the collar of Ethan’s shirt.

There were a lot of ways she could play this next part. She could strip off her clothes, piece by piece, leaving a trail on the way to his bedroom. She could turn on the shower, and when Ethan came to investigate, she could tug him under the spray, wait until the water plastered his shirt to his body, and then bite his collarbone until he whimpered.

She could drag him only as far as the hallway before dropping to her knees. The carpet was plush enough that she could spend hours edging him without inviting bruises.

But while each imagined scenario excited her, made her blood hum in her veins, something in her mind kept whispering, Not now. Not yet. Like her body wanted something else from tonight.

She tried to shake it off, to get her head in the game. She’d come home with him for sex, after all. Because she was tired of waiting. She’d known him for months now; if she put it off any longer, they’d never be able to bridge the gap between her imagination and reality.

Her friends had teased her from the doorway as they waved good-bye. “Have fun riding that beard!”

She’d had to duck her head so they wouldn’t see her heated cheeks. How was it possible she hadn’t even seen Ethan naked yet? Hadn’t touched him anywhere below the waist? And while they’d watched her video and kissed enough to wipe out any expectations of virtuous intent, still she hesitated.

She didn’t know why.

All these nerves, they couldn’t belong to her. She never got like this. All giddy and vulnerable and . . . shy?

She knew it meant something, that she hadn’t mounted him yet, and that was sort of terrifying.

The barrier wasn’t Ethan. For all he loved God and wanted to get married . . . he wasn’t the one pussyfooting around. It was Naomi who’d pulled away first when he kissed her good night after their last seminar. Who had shaken her head, just barely, when he’d tilted it in inquiry.

He wasn’t pushing, not even close. But his eyes, when they caught hers and lingered, held a trace of invitation that Naomi had been diluting, dancing around.

It was embarrassing. She hadn’t even had the good form to be smooth about it. The way she kept him at arm’s length didn’t hold any strategy. The difference between teasing and avoidance was intent.

This was ridiculous. Enough was enough.

She stormed out of the bathroom and grabbed his hand. Then, tucking her chin and batting her lashes, she did the voice, just a little. “Show me your bedroom.”

“Okay,” Ethan said, low and soft, and pushed against the door at the end of the hall with one hand, letting her lead the way.

Naomi swayed her hips, calculated, camera-worthy, an exaggerated one foot in front of the other right up to the foot of his massive, well-made bed. She picked up one of the two books resting on top of the comforter.

“Rilke, huh? This keeps you warm at night?”

He moved so he stood behind her, close enough to raise goose bumps on her arms even though he didn’t touch her.

His arm snaked against her side as he reached around her and took the book. “This,” he said, letting his breath hit her neck, his lips trace the shape of her ear, “is how I stop thinking about you long enough to fall asleep.”

It was the perfect segue. All she had to do was pick up her cue.

Might need something stronger after tonight. The line practically wrote itself, but she saved her quip and turned to kiss him.

Ethan kept his arms at his sides for a moment. Maybe he was nervous or waiting for something. Or maybe, she realized when she ran her nails down the nape of his neck and he groaned, biting her lip hard enough that she clenched everything below the waist, he didn’t trust himself not to push for more than she wanted to give.

Her head went fuzzy, lust and other emotions she didn’t recognize and refused to examine fighting for purchase. Getting him naked seemed like the best antidote. Once she had him undone, then she’d know