“Don’t waste my time with meaningless remarks,” she said.
She thought his compliment was meaningless? That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He found her stunning, gorgeous, which was going to be a problem. Forgetting about this afterward would be easier if he admired her less. He still wasn’t sure how that part of the deal was going to work. Whenever he caught sight of Vivian, he knew he’d remember this heart-stopping image of her standing in front of him with her wary blue eyes, boyish haircut and bare br**sts.
But there’d be time enough to worry about tomorrow and all the days after. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
He reached for her, but she held him off. “So…you don’t hate my haircut?”
He almost laughed. Another challenge. And yet there was a hint of insecurity beneath her question that he found endearing, especially after all her rejections. “No, I don’t hate your haircut. I wasn’t sure at first, but…I like it.”
She remained skeptical. “They’ve done studies. Most guys aren’t attracted to women with short hair.”
Was that why she’d cut it? She was so contrary, so ready to dismiss the whole world, daring him or any other man to like her.
“Then maybe they asked the wrong guys, because I think what you’ve done is sexy as hell.” So was the rest of her. She was different, intriguing. She was also rebellious—but, oddly enough, that made him want to protect her. Convince her that she could trust him.
It also warned him that losing Amber Rose might not be the only painful thing he’d ever experience.
Myles eyed her as if he couldn’t quite figure out what was going through her head. “So…are we fine?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”
Vivian wasn’t sure. Rational thought was beginning to intrude, beginning to make her question why she was behaving so irresponsibly. “I’m reconsidering…”
“What?”
Everything, but she could only admit to part of it. “This. I’ve only been with two other men in my life. My husband and a steady boyfriend.” Who was currently missing. “This situation is so…different, so reckless, so—”
“You’re telling me you’re not as brave as you pretend to be?”
“I don’t want to make a mistake. I—”
Whatever she was about to say fled her mind as he took her face between his large hands and kissed her tenderly. “I’m going to take good care of you, Vivian. You believe that, don’t you?”
She did. He was a cop. Taking care of people wasn’t only his job, it was part of his nature. She liked that about him. The problem was that she wasn’t taking good care of him. If, after this was all over, she couldn’t replace the barricade she’d tried so hard to maintain between them, she could be putting him in harm’s way.
“I believe you’ll try,” she said. “But…we shouldn’t be doing this. You don’t…you need to pick someone else. You have a lot of options.”
His hands dropped to the curve of her waist and held her in place as he lowered his head. “I don’t want anyone else,” he whispered, and drew the tip of her breast into his mouth.
The sensation of his tongue caused darts of pleasure to race through Vivian’s blood, interfering with her ability to think. “You promise you won’t ever call me again?” she gasped, trying to stand firm.
He looked up at her as though he might change the rules or question why it had to be that way. But when she unzipped his fly and began running her fingers over him, his chest lifted as if the contact had just kicked his heart up into his throat. “I promise.”
His voice sounded strangled. She knew the way she’d exacted his agreement hadn’t been fair. But she planned to hold him to his word. She had no choice.
“Good. Kiss me again,” she whispered.
10
Vivian had never made love quite like this before. They stripped off his clothes and what was left of hers and joined instantly.
“Let’s…slow down,” Myles panted, his chest damp with sweat even though they’d moved from the wall, where he’d borne her weight, to the softest place in the vicinity—a bearskin rug. “I want…this to be good for you.”
He seemed intent on achieving come control. But she wouldn’t allow it. She believed she’d be able to forget him far more easily if they took a quick bow to lust and only lust. So she urged him to let himself go, told him she wanted it that way, and he obliged her. Hooking his arms beneath her knees, he drove into her with the abandon she craved, and the intensity and pleasure carried Vivian where she needed to be—to that place where thoughts don’t exist, just sensation.
Their lovemaking ended almost as fast as it’d begun, which made her feel as if she’d won a victory of some sort. At least she hadn’t enjoyed it too much. That somehow meant she couldn’t miss it later. Or so she told herself until, after a short nap, they woke up and started all over. Soon, they’d made love in the living room and in the bedroom as well as that first time in the hall, and each experience was better than the last.
It was three hours later when, too exhausted to expend any more energy, Vivian rolled away from Myles to check the clock on the wall above the dining table. Almost eleven. She’d been admiring his face while he dozed, but knowing she’d never see him this way again felt like such a loss she didn’t want to think about it. “We’ve got to go,” she whispered, giving him a slight nudge to wake him. “It’s late.”
His eyes opened but he made no move to get up. “Let’s sleep a little longer.”
“We have kids to worry about.”
“One more time.”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re not satisfied,” she said with a laugh.
Instead of laughing with her, he sobered. “I’m not satisfied.”
“How many times is it going to take?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve been holding out on me. Why?”
Scowling, she glanced away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she responded.
“Yes, you do.”
“I had fun.”
“You encouraged me to let go and enjoy myself but you wouldn’t. You hung on to your control so tight I couldn’t pry you away from it.”