Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,21
cells.
Against her groin, she again felt the rigid heat that proclaimed his desire for her more than words ever could. Clad only in the robe, with his body slammed against hers, she couldn’t help but notice the rock-hard strength of him. She moaned, low in her throat, and rocked toward it, so filled with need she thought her legs would give out.
He suddenly tensed, as if realizing they were one step away from too-far-to-stop. Dropping his hands, he ended the kiss and pulled away, staggering back a step to punctuate the end of their embrace.
The sound of their ragged breaths filled the silent air. Candace felt certain every ounce of blood in her body had pooled in her most intimate places, which now throbbed and boiled with demand. Her breasts hurt, the nipples so sensitive that the scrape of the silk robe was almost unbearable, and she knew nothing would make them feel better but his hands, his tongue, his lips.
But the look on his face said she wasn’t going to get any of those things. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his tongue was back in his mouth, his lips were sealed tight and turned down in a frown.
He was trying to pretend he regretted the kiss.
She knew he didn’t.
“That was...unexpected,” she admitted, hearing the weakness of her voice.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”
“Oh, of course you meant to. Just as I meant to.”
“Maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t mean it can happen again, or go any further.”
She opened her mouth to argue.
“You’re only here for a short time, you’re my boss’s granddaughter and he trusted me to look after you.”
“I think he was sort of hoping you would romance me,” she said, her tone dry.
“Yeah, but not bang you up against the front door.”
“Is that where we would have ended up? Gee, and the sofa is right in the next room.”
“Damn it, Candace.”
She held a hand up, palm out, stopping him from saying anything more. “Forget it. I know you’re right. I have reasons of my own for not insisting you rip off your clothes and do me until I can’t remember my own name.”
He coughed and laughed, both at the same time. Then, as if the laughter—and her saucy words—had snapped some kind of spell, he reached out, put his hands on her shoulders and spun her around so she faced the staircase. Gently pushing her, he ordered, “Go.”
She spun back around. “I can’t.”
His jaw turned into granite. “You’re being ridiculous.”
All because he needed her to be the one who walked away and ended this before it really began? As if he had no free will? As if he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from doing to her exactly what she’d practically dared him to do unless she removed herself from his presence?
You don’t want him to do it, either, remember? You know you can’t do this.
Her grandfather was being moved to a rehab facility today. He’d be there for about a week, and then he would be coming home. But coming home to what? Her having an affair with his groundskeeper, then the descent of the paparazzi once her engagement was announced? Did he really need that while he recovered? Did Oliver, who was obviously here for reasons he hadn’t yet revealed to her? Did she need the scandal? Did Tommy?
No. She might want Oliver, and having sex with him might even be worth what she would go through afterward if people found out. But nobody else deserved it. She needed to cool this, here and now. She had to be the one who walked away.
Which still wasn’t going to be easy.
“I’m telling you, you really don’t want to watch me walking up those stairs.”
“Yes. I really do.”
“And you’re honestly not going to get out of here until I do?”
“No.”
“You’ll regret it.”
“Hell, I already regret it,” he said, tunneling both his hands through his hair this time, leaving it more tousled than before.
“Not as much as you’re about to.”
A helping of anger had been heaped upon her sexual frustration. Yes, she’d decided she couldn’t have him, but did he have to be so damned insistent about it?
She hadn’t been kidding that he was going to regret it. Because she was ready to give him what he was asking for...and wondered if he was ready for what came along with it.
Without another word, she spun around again, squared her shoulders, stiffened her spine and ascended the stairs. He stood below,