He stared at me a beat, then, al of a sudden, he pul ed me completely out from under the covers and slid my na**d body across his lap. He yanked the covers over me, wrapping them around me to keep me warm and then his hands went into my hair on either side of my head and held me, facing him.
“Sweetheart, I’m thirty-five years old and I’ve had a f**k of a lot more lovers than you counted on your one hand last night. I’ve come to the point, with women, that I know what I want when I see it and I haven’t seen anything in a long time that interests me as much as you.”
Holy cow.
I was trying to process that (and struggling with it) when he continued.
“Not only that, but I’ve seen a lot of shit in my job and I deal, day to day, with the filthy crust eating away at the edge of good civilization. I know good people, I know bad people, I know good people who do bad things and bad people who do good.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed, fascinated and speechless as his face dipped closer to mine.
“I know what kind of person you are and nothing you say over breakfast is gonna change the fact that, while I’m runnin’, I’m gonna think about your f**king fantastic body na**d and asleep in my bed.”
A shiver slid through me.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“So you can stop worrying,” he finished.
I nodded.
He watched me for a beat and then his hands went from my head, to my shoulders and then around my back.
“One more thing, Roxanne.”
I nodded again, stil speechless, stil processing and, even though I nodded, I was not entirely sure I could take
“one more thing”.
“I meant what I said last night, about you and me. I know you’re scared –”
“I’m not scared,” I lied, automatical y and in self-defense.
His arms tightened. “Quiet,” he ordered.
I shut up.
“You think we’re going too fast.”
“That, I’l agree with,” I broke in again.
He shook his head and smiled. “What you need to get is that it’s done. The minute I slid inside you last night, it was done.”
That got a bel y quiver.
“You said that last night,” I reminded him.
“I have to know you get it.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause whatever it is you’re gonna tel me in a couple of hours is gonna make me involved.”
“I’m not sure it means that.”
“I am.”
“Whisky –”