Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)(64)

To steady myself, I pressed my back against the wall.

Once he turned back to face me, a slow grin lifted his cheeks. He stepped closer, allowing his warm body to lean into me as his firm mouth dropped over mine. His tongue slid along my bottom lip where he then nipped gently. A feverish frenzy coursed through my veins.

My hands moved over his rib cage and onto his back, feeling the hard-packed muscles tighten beneath my fingertips. His hands traveled up my arms to my neck as his knee parted my legs, sliding my skirt up between my thighs. Within seconds, my nails were digging trenches into his shoulder blades.

Moments later, he slowed things down and rationed his touches, then stopped altogether. He backed away slowly. “We should probably dial it down a little before we do something you’ll regret.” Then he plopped down on the sofa and blew out a breath.

A sinking feeling came over me. “Me…or you?”

My remark gave him pause, and his eyes flickered in my direction. “Of course I mean you. Why would I regret it?”

I sat beside him on the couch. “I don’t know. But you seem awfully sure that I would. Maybe you’re the one with the issue.”

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” I leaned closer to him and brushed my lips over his ear, but he only stiffened. “Maybe I should go slip into something a little more comfortable.”

He swallowed hard and pulled at his shirt collar. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

I rose and wobbled toward my bedroom, pausing in the doorway to look back at him. He faced away from me and was eyeing a framed art canvas on the wall, as if he wasn’t the least bit concerned with my intentions.

I don’t know what I’d expected. Hell, I thought I knew what he expected, but apparently I was wrong. Or doing something wrong. His preoccupation unnerved me almost as much as what I was about to do. Most men—at least the ones in their right minds—paid attention when a girl said she was going to take off her clothes.

In the bedroom, I stripped off my clothes and changed into a long white satiny nightgown and slipped on a matching silk robe.

“I should get going,” he called out from the living room. “You probably want to get to bed.”

He looked up as I came around the corner, and his mouth dropped open. The robe barely covered my shoulders and I had purposely left it open in the front, allowing the negligee to peek through.

“Funny that you mentioned that,” I stammered, feeling my entire body blush beneath the robe.

Cowboy stood up, but he didn’t come any closer. If anything, he looked like he was about to hightail it for the front door. “Anna, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to proposition me.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“No. I mean, yes.”

The uncertainty in his voice worried me. “Well, which is it?”

Cowboy looked a little lost for words, but finally shook his head. “Yeah, it’s a problem.” Then he muttered a few expletives under his breath before looking back at me. “I can’t…I mean, we can’t…”

“Oh.” Feeling like a presumptuous idiot, I turned away from him and quickly closed my robe, crossing my arms over my chest to keep it in place. What the hell was I thinking? He’d obviously changed his mind about us.

“Anna, wait.” He stepped up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s okay,” I said, holding back tears of embarrassment. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I get it.”

“Do you?” he asked, sounding painfully unsure. “You’ve been drinking and aren’t thinking clearly.”

“I understand the difference between a man who wants me and one who obviously doesn’t.”

“That’s not what I meant, Anna. I was only talking about the alcohol. That’s the reason we can’t do this. When we do, I want you to be sure, and I’m not entirely convinced you are.”

I turned around and looked into his eyes. “You think I’m throwing myself at you because I’m inebriated?”

He grinned. “Even drunk, you can’t stop using big words.”

I dropped my gaze and looked away. “This is embarrassing enough. You don’t have to make fun of me.”

“Darlin’, I’m not poking fun. I think it’s adorable the way you talk.” Using one finger, he lifted my chin. “Look, your first time should be special. Not some post-drinking binge decision.”

I blinked at him in horror. “What?”

“I don’t mind being your first, Anna. But not like this. I know you’re probably nervous about being with a man, but we don’t have to rush into having sex.”

“You know, you have a really infuriating and insulting concept of me,” I told him, crossing my arms once again.

“Sweetheart, I’m not trying to make you feel bad about being inexperienced. I’m just trying to tell you it’s okay. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. It’s not a problem.”

“Apparently, Houston, we do have a problem.” I pursed my mouth, trying to control my temper, then blew out a breath at his puzzled look. “I’m not a virgin.”

The shocked look on his face was almost laughable. And I probably would’ve laughed if it hadn’t been for the annoying way he was staring at me. As if I were tainted or something.