Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,95
knew it. She didn’t need physical devotion to feed her self-esteem. In fact, he suspected it was her unshakeable self-esteem that enabled her to take off her clothes in front of a room full of men and yet remain so completely out of reach of all of them.
She could strip for them, entice them, seduce them...but never lower herself to a level that said she’d ever give them what they wanted.
But now, that’s exactly what she was doing. Offering herself...to him. “I’m flattered,” he said, his tone husky.
She reached for him, scraping the tips of her fingers along the waistband of his pants, tugging a little at his shirt.
“But it’s not going to happen.”
Her hand stilled. “You said you weren’t attached.”
“That’s not the only issue.”
“You’re attracted to me.”
He couldn’t deny something so obvious. “We work together.”
Shrugging in unconcern, she stepped closer, sliding one bare foot between his so that her leg scraped against his thigh. “Working together is what makes it so very...convenient.”
She tilted her head, glancing toward the sturdy-looking vanity, and Nick knew she was picturing a very similar scenario to the one that had filled his mind earlier.
It would be shockingly easy to lift her onto that surface, step between her legs and drive into her body. Or to turn her around, lay her over it and come into her from behind. Their eyes would meet in the mirror...but he wouldn’t see the passion in their depths. He could barely make out their color behind the fabric of her mask. And he knew one thing for sure—he would never make love to the woman as long as she wore the thing.
“I’m sorry, Rose. You’re very attractive and sexy, but you’re just not who I’m looking for right now,” he said. “I’ve done the one-night-stand thing and I’ve had enough of it.”
“Who said anything about one night?” Her words were flippant. Her husky tone was not.
The idea of having more than one night appealed to him. But it didn’t change the basics: she was not the kind of woman he needed to get involved with right now. Not even on a purely sexual basis. “I’m sure there are a hundred guys upstairs who’d take you up on this in a heartbeat.”
“I don’t want any of them,” she murmured. “I want you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t have to know you to want to have sex with you.”
“I’m not wired that way.”
She made a sound of disbelief. “You’ve never had raw, wild, uninhibited sex with someone just for the sake of feeling good?”
“Just to get off, yeah,” he muttered, making no effort to be delicate. “But only because time and expediency demanded it. I don’t operate that way anymore.”
“I could make it so good for you.” She lifted his hand again, this time putting it on her bare hip.
Nick couldn’t help squeezing it. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Let me,” she ordered. “Let’s see how good it can be.”
His jaw stiff, he pulled his hand away. “I know how good it could be. I don’t doubt we could screw ourselves senseless and make each other come a dozen times in an hour.”
Her eyes closed behind the mask. He could see her pulse fluttering in her neck. Still talking in that throaty, sultry whisper, she asked, “And what would be so bad about that?”
Nothing would be so bad about that. In fact, it would be incredible. But he’d feel like shit afterward. He knew it as sure as he knew his brother Mark was never going to let him forget he’d been born twelve minutes before Nick had.
Some things were inarguable.
Like the fact that he couldn’t have sex with this woman tonight and still look Izzie—the woman he sensed could be right for him for all the right reasons—in the eye tomorrow. So glancing at his watch, he found some nugget of resolve and said, “Harry’s waiting for me upstairs. I’ll see you later.”
Without giving her a chance to try to stop him, he turned around and walked out of her dressing room. Judging by the way something went flying in that tiny room once the door was closed behind him, he knew he’d left a very angry woman in his wake.
* * *
“SO HOW YOU DOIN’, little brother?” Nick heard a woman’s voice ask as he sat in a booth at Santori’s the next day. It was early Sunday afternoon and the church crowd hadn’t yet shown up for their traditional Sunday big midday meal, so he’d taken advantage of the lull