Rogue - Michele Mannon Page 0,44
a bed-hopping player.”
A V forms between his watchful eyes. “Bed-hopping . . . who else do you think . . . Sabrina?”
My throat hitches. “You aren’t denying it. Gross. Get out of my room.”
He stares at me without an ounce of guilt. Why should he feel guilty? It’s not like his “I like you” catapulted us from being allies into being involved in a relationship. A few uncomfortable seconds pass until he murmurs no words any woman ever wants tossed in their face. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m not settling for her leftovers . . .”
My words seem to remind both him and myself that his finger is still nestled between my moist folds. He withdraws it, rolls onto his back, and stares up at the ceiling. And to my horror, a sense of loss grabs hold of me.
Green with jealousy. Horny. Lovestruck. Conflicted. Yep, that sums it up, all right.
“So it matters to you who I’ve been with?” I hear him ask. Thank God he’s not looking at me or he’d witness a blush of vulnerability walk all over me . . . trampling over me in a wild stampede of emotion. I’ve no business calling him out on his bed partners. I met him a month ago, for Christ’s sake. I barely know him.
Yes, it matters, even though I don’t want it to.
“I bumped into her . . . Sabrina, that is . . . in the hallway, decked out in fuck-me pumps and her peacock finery. Smelling like a brothel and coming from Hayden’s suite of rooms . . .”
Jaxson winks, as the truth hits me.
Hayden’s suite . . . Damn her for screwing with my head . . . ruining what could have been . . . could still be . . .
I kick the sheet free of my legs and move swiftly, straddling his body and positioning myself over his lower waist. His eyes flash and he’s no longer counting ceiling tiles. Seems I’ve thrown him off-center. And as I suck in an encouraging breath, I’m about to knock him off his ass.
Or send him running for the hills. Yeah, there’s always the possibility it’ll all turn to shit. I fold forward until my chest is resting against his own, my arms to both sides of him bracing me as I bring my face up close to his. Mustering my courage, I choke out the four words that might either bring us closer together or tear us apart.
“I like you, too.”
We stare at each other. Two strangers, within this foreign mercenary world. One, a professional. Experienced with manipulation, killing . . . sex and seduction. Then there’s me, the bleeding idiot who’s fallen hard and fast for a man she really knows nothing about. Is he’s feeling this strange pull between us that began when we first laid eyes on each other and which not only hasn’t let up, it’s grown stronger? It’s irrational. Illogical. But the truth, nevertheless.
“It’s hard to believe . . . you’ll never understand . . . I can’t figure out how or why . . .” I mumble, trying to get to the point but struggling to find the words. I like you. I think I’ve falling for you. I might be in love with you.
He bucks up from the mattress and rolls, careful not to crush me as he reverses our positions. He’s on top, with me beneath him, and the world, the bedroom, and everything around me keeps moving in a converged blur. Except for him. Only him. “You haven’t a goddamn clue why I came to you tonight, do you?”
Wrong-o-mundo. I’ve a clue all right. A pretty big one, which is barely contained beneath his gray sweatpants. I feel his long length rubbing up against my core. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, to have such strong feelings for you in such a short period of time. I’ve never felt this way. It’s insane. Very much unlike me. I get it, though. There’s an attraction between us. I think it’s mutual. You came here for a good time. And I’m turning it into an episode of One Life to Live.”
His beautiful, handsome face is just inches from mine. His lips so close, close enough to kiss . . .
His arms flank my body, keeping me trapped in place beneath him on the mattress. He braces his weight on his forearms except for his lower half, where the heaviness of his erection is nestled up against my center.
I started this.
And