Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas #2)(61)

“I guess it’s obvious I’ve been worried about you.”

“Whatever for?”

He dropped his hand from the bedpost. “Because I don’t believe you realize how vulnerable you are. I guess I didn’t realize it, either, or I’d never have said what I did about how nothing was ever going to happen between us.”

She blinked her eyes. What exactly did he mean by that? “I’m not vulnerable.”

“You sure are. You’re hell bent on sleeping with somebody, and both of us know it. Unfortunately—and this is where I’m starting to lose sleep myself—you don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re doing.”

She bristled. “Considering the fact that you’re in my bedroom right now, and I’m nearly naked, I suppose I can’t argue.”

“I’m the safest man in the world for you to be nearly naked with.”

“You? Safe?”

“Sure I am.” Her incredulity seemed to irritate him. “Just think about it. You saw right through me the moment we met. You know I’m only out for sex, and you don’t have a single illusion about me. I guess that makes me about perfect for what you need.”

She swallowed. “That’s true.” Except it wasn’t entirely true. Kenny liked to paint the worst possible picture of himself, but he wasn’t the villain he pretended to be.

He gave her a satisfied nod. “Tonight I made up my mind not to take any more chances that you’re going to hook up with someone completely unsuitable.”

“Somebody like Dexter O’Conner, for example?”

His eyes narrowed. “He’s your worst nightmare. In the first place, a man like Dexter’s not going to know much more than the bare minimum about sex, so you’re guaranteed to have a rocky initiation. And in the second place, he’s likely to get distracted somewhere along the line and forget about birth control. The next thing you know, you’ll be pregnant with a little nerd baby, but old Dexter will have forgotten your name.”

She laughed. Obviously, he didn’t know Dexter nearly as well as he thought. She wondered how he was going to react when he figured out that his sister, despite her protests, was attracted to the “nerd.” For that matter, she wondered what Torie would do.

Emma considered the irony of knowing that Dexter was exactly the kind of man she’d always wanted to fall in love with, but not once today had she caught herself fantasizing about how he’d look naked. He’d been a marvelous guide, a great conversationalist, and they’d had a wonderful time, but she hadn’t looked at his lips and imagined what they’d feel like touching her own.

She tore her eyes away from Kenny’s lips. “So you’re saying you’ve changed your mind?”

“I have to, don’t I?”

His air of self-sacrifice got her hackles up. “Don’t put yourself out.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you want to swim first, or just go right to that shower?”

“Forgive me for not being overwhelmed by your intensely romantic offer.”

“Not interested, huh?”

“Not a bit.”

He took a slow step forward. “Does this mean you aren’t attracted to me?”

“Sorry.” She noticed her panties on the floor, snatched them up, and thrust them into the pocket of her robe.

He sighed. “All right, then. I guess I’m a big enough man to handle honest rejection. It is honest, isn’t it?”

“Of course it’s honest.”

“I’m not doubting your word or anything . . .” He came toward her in a lazy, sensuous movement that reminded her of oil sliding over water. “But just to be sure . . .” His slacks brushed her robe as he stopped in front of her.

“Kenny . . .”

He smothered her protest with his kiss.

She wouldn’t do it! She wasn’t going to give in to this blatant power struggle he’d mistaken for seduction.

And then his tongue glided over the seam of her lips, leaving heat in its path.

Her annoyance began to fade as he took his time, not rushing her but content to dabble. Oh, but there was something splendid about being kissed by a lazy man.

Her spine bumped the bedpost at the same time that his hips flattened against her own. He was already aroused. Huge. His body’s response entranced her, and she deepened the kiss.

His hand flattened against the base of her throat, ready to dip lower and cup her breast. She arched toward him, craving his touch, but he played in her mouth instead, dallying here and there in intimate tongue play that went on until only the bedpost and his body were holding her upright.

Her breasts ached for his hands, but he still hadn’t touched them. She rubbed against his chest to urge him on, letting the silk of her robe and the fabric of his shirt abrade her nipples. He didn’t take the hint.

No longer so content with his laziness, she dropped her hands to his hips and cupped his buttocks. They were as hard as the rest of him, so different from her own body, which was plump and pliant.

Their kiss went wild. She loved it—loved kissing him—had never imagined kissing could be like this. But she wanted more, and she pushed her hand between their bodies to open the knot of her robe.

He drew her down to the bed without missing a beat. But instead of going on from there, he kept kissing her.