Strong and Sexy (Sky High Air #2)(31)

“Well…” She wriggled again, careful with her knee this time. Leaning down, she thought to give him a kiss, because that would surely remind him—

They bumped noses.

Not letting that deter her, she changed the angle of her head, leaned in and—

Bumped his nose again. “Ohmigod.” Lightly slapping a hand on either side of his face, she held him still. Determined, she leaned in again, and found him—

Laughing.

At her.

Letting out a breath, she pressed her forehead to his. “Are you laughing at me or with me?”

“With you,” he promised. “Definitely with you.”

“Maybe you could do one more thing with me.”

“Anything,” he said in the most thrilling voice.

She executed another wriggle, complete with eyebrow arched that hopefully signaled “do me, do me now.”

But he, the most frustrating, patient man on the planet, just lay there.

“You know what I’m asking,” she finally whispered, beginning to sound desperate, even to her own ears. “You’re a guy. A really sexy, virile guy who has women calling him at the crack of dawn. You know.”

“Yes, but do you?”

“Do I know that I want to have just sex? Yes!”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you kidding me? You probably have women throwing themselves at you nightly. You probably never have to make the first move. And yet you want me to beg you.”

“Whoa—”

“Because believe me, Shayne, I’m this close to begging you.”

“Dani—”

“What?” she snapped, just a little too close to the edge.

Cupping her face, he pulled her in for a kiss. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m not waiting for you to throw yourself at me. I’m trying to resist you.”

“Oh.” That deflated some of her annoyance. “Why?”

“Because…” He slid his hands down her back, over her bottom, her thighs, and then up again, beneath the big T-shirt this time, and let out a low, thrilling groan at the feel of her satiny panties. “Because that’s what you wanted before I brought you here. Because I don’t want to hurt you.” Some of the smile went out of his eyes. “Because I tend to end up hurting the women who care about me.”

“You can’t hurt me.” Liar, liar. “This is a one-night thing only, remember?”

For a long beat he just looked up at her. “You’re very different from the women I’ve gone out with.”

“Different.” But because his fingers slipped beneath that satin, this came out all breathless and whispery. “Different how?”

He didn’t answer, and she lifted her head. The light from the kitchen slashed over him, and she could see the answer in his eyes. “Oh,” she breathed. “Different as in not beautiful and rich—” Damn it. She tried to shift off him but his hands held her still.

“No,” he said firmly. “You have it all wrong. I meant you’re not…” Something flickered in his eyes. Discomfort? “You’re not someone I would sleep with and then not call again.”

The naked, raw truth of that statement was in his eyes, and finally, she understood, both his hesitation and the emotion in his voice. She wanted to hug him for it but instead she sat up. Since she’d had a leg on either side of him, that left her straddling his body.

He thought she was different. Good different, and though he could have no idea what that did for her, she felt deliciously empowered for the first time in her entire dating life. “Shayne?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so so sure.”



Shayne struggled for brain cells, for working brain cells. Not easy with Dani straddling him wearing only his T-shirt and those peach panties. But he managed to find a few. “Dani.” His voice was soft, his body not so much so. “It’s just that this is out of character for you, and—”

“I’ve had one-night stands.”

Lifting up a hand, he stroked her jaw. Her skin was like silk. “Have you?”

“Okay, no.” She covered his hand with hers. “But I’ve thought about it.”

“Dani—”

“I want to do this,” she whispered, her hair falling over his shoulders and arms like a silk curtain. “I want to be held, touched. Kissed. I want to know I’m not alone.”

“You’re not alone.”

“Thank you.” Eyes luminous, thighs hugging his body, she reached down and grabbed the hem of the T-shirt she wore and slowly began to lift it up.

His heart stuttered to a stop, then jerked into motion again, kicking hard against his ribs. “I love the way my shirt looks on you.”

“Held. Touched. Kissed,” she repeated huskily. “I didn’t say anything about talking. Did you hear me say anything about talking?”

His laugh backed up in his throat when the T-shirt revealed the gentle curve of her belly, her ribs…ah, God, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts popped free, creamy pale and full, tipped with nipples already pebbled and begging for his attention.

He lifted his hands to start the touching part of the program, but looked up in confusion when she let out a “goddammit.”