Just the Sexiest Man Alive(72)

The game ended and—as much as he didn’t particularly mind having her head in his lap for hours on end—Jason figured he should probably get Taylor upstairs where she could sleep more comfortably. Since walking obviously wasn’t an option, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the staircase to the guest bedroom. Taylor roused at this and, when she saw where they were going, giggled and mumbled something about Gone with the Wind and Scarlett O’Hara not getting any sex for two financial quarters. This apparently made a lot of sense at least to her because, with a lazy smile, she wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck and slowly ran her fingers through the back of his hair.

And that was pretty much the point when he realized there was trouble on the horizon.

Jason carried Taylor into the guest room and to the bed, then stood her down beside it. He figured that was far enough and that, if he was serious about being a gentleman that night, he would make a fast getaway.

But instead of letting go, Taylor tightened her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. She gazed up at him from beneath her long lashes as one of her hands drifted down from his neck. With a finger, she gently traced a path along his chest, then down his stomach . . . Jason sucked in his breath as his abdominal muscles tightened at her touch. This was certainly new territory for them.

“I’ve thought about this,” she murmured in a breathless voice. “What it would be like . . .” She peered up at him. “Did you know that?”

Without waiting for an answer, she began to kiss his neck, teasing him. Biting back a moan, Jason closed his eyes. It was too much—her hands suddenly were everywhere.

“Taylor . . .” His voice came out in a ragged intake of breath. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh . . .” she whispered in his ear. “I’m the lawyer—I’m the one who asks the questions, remember?” Then she pulled back, her lips hovering just before his.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

His eyes locked with hers.

“Yes.”

She cocked her head. “Then what are you waiting for?”

With that, Jason took her by the back of her neck and kissed her. Her lips parted eagerly, and their tongues met as the kiss deepened. Jason didn’t know how long that went on for, and he wasn’t sure who led who, but at some point he realized that they had made their way to the bed and Taylor was lying beneath him. Her hands were at his waistband, pulling impatiently at his shirt, and her legs wrapped around him. Jason’s mouth trailed teasingly along her collarbone, then dipped toward the V-neck of her shirt. Now it was her turn to moan.

“Jason . . .” she whispered urgently.

More than anything, he wanted this. Wanted her, wanted to do all the things he knew would have her moaning his name all night. But something made him pause.

He pulled back to look at her. He saw that Taylor’s cheeks were flushed, her hair strewn wildly over her shoulders. She looked gorgeous and alluring and he was tempted as all hell but—there was one problem.

It was her eyes.

Like always, her eyes told him everything. They were dark and intense, but they were missing that knowing little gleam she always had. And without that gleam, Jason knew it wasn’t really her—the Taylor he wanted—that he was kissing right then.

So he pulled back, unwrapping himself from her. “We’re not going to do this. Not like this.”

Surprised, Taylor looked up at him through half-lidded eyes as she stretched out across the bed. “Not like this?” She smiled. “Fine then, I can be on top. Unless you had something else in mind . . .”

With that, she giggled.

And if her eyes hadn’t told Jason everything he needed to know, that giggle sure did. He pulled the blanket out from under her.

“You’re going to sleep, Taylor.”

She pouted at this. “Awww, come on . . . don’t I get to see the Sexiest Man Alive’s sexy bits?” She cracked up, thoroughly amusing herself.

Jason pulled the blanket over her. “I think it might be best if we save that show for another time.”

Taylor reached for the blanket reluctantly, blinking up at him with one last disappointed look.

“No bits?”

He shook his head firmly.

“No bits.”

She yawned, then with a dramatic sigh and a huffy “fine,” she drifted off. Jason was just turning to leave when she opened her eyes halfway.

“But I just wanted one night where I didn’t have to see the steps.”

He had no idea what she was talking about, but the strange, almost sad expression on her face made Jason sit down on the bed. “What do you mean?”

Taylor gazed up at him as she explained, speaking in a soft voice.

“I bet other women don’t have to think around you. But I do. Because I see the steps: if I do this, then this will happen, then this and this . . .” She trailed off, then sighed exhaustedly. “It’s a lot of thinking sometimes,” she confessed.

Jason tried to fight back his smile. He kind of liked Concussed-and-Nearly-Comatose Taylor. She gave him great insight into what the real Taylor had going on in that head of hers.

“I like that you’re always thinking,” he told her.

She frowned. “You said I’m difficult.”

“Yes. But I like that about you, too.”