Baddest Bad Boys(38)

Suddenly his arms were around her. He smelled and felt incredibly delicious and solid and strong. He tipped her mascara-blurred face up. “So what’s the deal? Does this mean you’ve still got some feelings for me after all?” he asked.

She wiped her eyes. “I’m not ready to give one inch yet, so back off.”

His expression was cautiously hopeful. “Uh, OK. Meaning that in some as yet undisclosed future time, you will be ready? Maybe?”

She shook her finger at him. “Not one inch,” she hissed.

He grinned. “Whatever. My inches are all jazzed up and at the ready, whenever you feel like taking them. Say the word. They’re yours.”

She shoved at him. “Don’t you dare come on to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It just slips out. You really turn me on.”

“We’re not anywhere near there yet,” she said primly.

He vibrated with silent laughter. “Exactly how far are we?”

“After that last time at the cabin…” Her voice trailed off, and her face went flaming hot. “Pretty damn far.”

His grin faded. “I’m sorry what I did made you feel bad.”

She sniffed, eyeing him sidewise. “Hmmph.”

“I don’t apologize for making you come, though,” he added baldly.

She shoved, but the circle of his arms just tightened. She glared up into his unrepentant face. “You don’t apologize much, do you?”

His eyebrow twitched. “Is it so obvious? I’m just being honest. When I’ve got you in bed, I don’t care about what’s polite. I go straight for the prize. Watching you come so hard you pass out—I love that.”

His voice rasped across her nerve endings. His erection pressed her belly. “You’re rushing me,” she whispered. “Ten minutes in the door, and you’re rubbing your hard-on against me and talking dirty.”

He dropped his arms, and stepped back. Cold air rushed in around her where his delicious heat had been. She missed it.

“I will not force you.” The quiet words had ceremonial weight.

She was at a loss, wavering without his sustaining embrace.

Jon looked around the bare apartment, the single folding chair, the narrow cot. “That’s one hell of a narrow bed,” he commented.

“Is this your sneaky way of asking me if I’ve entertained a dozen lovers on it since I last saw you?” she flared.

His gaze whipped back to her. Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. “No, actually, it was just a random observation.”

The silence stretched out and sagged under its own weight.

“So?” His voice was hard. “Have you?”

She swallowed. “What if I had?” she asked quietly.

His jaw clenched. “I’d hate it. And then I’d get the f*ck over it.”

“It wouldn’t matter to you?”

“I couldn’t say that. But it wouldn’t put me off. I love you, Robin.”

Her eyes filled up again, to her dismay. “Jon, I—”

“I’ve never said that to anybody before. Ever, in my life,” he said. “Not even when I got married to Vicki. But I’m saying it now. And I hope you’re listening. I love you, Robin MacNamara.”

“I’m listening. I hear you,” she said. “And I, um…haven’t.”

“Haven’t what?” he demanded.

“Had any lovers,” she blurted. “No one.”

Jon passed his hand over his forehead, and exhaled slowly. “That’s good news,” he muttered. “Jesus, Robin. For a beginner, you know how to put a guy through the wringer.”

I’m sorry. The words quivered on the tip of her tongue. I love you too was right on its heels. But nothing came out. Not yet. This hope was too fresh, too tender. A pale green shoot, so easily crushed.

“I wish I could be more flowery and eloquent about it,” he offered.

She gestured towards her cluttered desk. “I’ve got a thesaurus.”

His eyes sparkled. “What is that, a challenge?”

She shrugged. “Just a suggestion,” she said primly.

“OK, let’s see if I can vamp it up,” he mused. “I, um, adore you. Revere you. My body explodes with volcanic passion for you. You are, uh, sweeter than a cupcake with buttercream frosting and sprinkles. Hotter than a Polish kielbasa smeared with wasabi mustard—”

“Stop it!” she cut him off, waving her arms. “That’s terrible!”

He blinked. “Aw. Well, verbal skills are highly overrated in men, anyway. I’m much more skilled with body language. Wanna see?”

She covered her mouth to hide the smile. “There you go again.”

His arms encircled her. He nuzzled her shoulders, stroking her back. “It’s a serious suggestion. Let me worship at your shrine. The beast stays locked up until you let him out yourself. This is all about you. Showing you how much pleasure I can give you. How much I love you, how much I’m going to love you. Forever.”

“Oh. Wow,” she whispered. Her head dropped back into his hand, and she melted into a kiss that made her forget everything. If she let it.

She pulled away. “I don’t want you to keep any part of yourself locked up,” she said. “I’m not afraid of it. I want it all. No more games.”