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Brendan’s eyes dilated before he crashed his mouth down on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him flush with her body. His lips moved a bit sloppy, his teeth grating against hers as he tried to adjust the angle. When was the last time he’d kissed a woman? Another awkward smack against her lips and clash with her teeth, and her mind reeled. Was it possible that he was still a virgin? Perhaps, but she didn’t care. Her stomach lit with butterflies, processing his inexperience with a possessive excitement that he was all hers.
Brendan gained skill quickly, his kisses becoming more fluid. Grabbing the stiff collar of his business shirt, Genevieve backed them up against the wall. She fisted the white cotton fabric and pulled, popping the pearl-patterned buttons apart, and slowly rubbed her hand up his solid, smooth pec, moaning into his mouth while taking over their kiss. His strong masculine scent funneled into her nose—an addictive fragrance of cedar wood and some sort of musky spice. His erection pressed against her, and she responded by pumping her hips, listening to his desperate, almost pained groans.
“Genevieve,” he whispered in a shaky plea. “Please…Genevieve, I…my god…I can’t handle?—”
He gasped as she untucked her cream blouse and grabbed his hands, gliding them up her stomach and placing his palms on her lacy nude bra. Her nipples hardened in anticipation—waiting, hoping—and thank god, he complied. He palmed her full breasts while his tentative fingertips teased her peaks through the lace, his breathing even rougher than hers. She squeezed her legs together, her core achingly wet for him as she reached for his belt.
“Shit.” A sizzling hiss slid through his teeth. He pulled his hands back like she’d seared him and jolted away, tripping over the bed. “I’m…I’m so sorry, Genevieve.” His husky voice shot heat straight through her as he righted himself. “You’re under a lot of stress. This isn’t the right time.”
Her stomach tightened before a flush crept up her cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I’m, shoot…screwing this up,” Brendan panted out, wiping his brow with his sleeve. “I want to make love for the first time when you’re sure I’m what you want. You’re in the middle of an intense situation, and you may not be thinking clearly?—”
“I’m thinking clearly.” Genevieve swallowed through a newly formed lump in her throat. “But I agree with you that it would be better to wait until my life is stable and perhaps until we know each other a little better.” Walking numbly toward the couch, she mumbled, “I should at least know your favorite kind of ice cream and how you take your coffee.” She grabbed some clothes from her bag and pivoted toward the bathroom.
“Genevieve,” he whispered, “please.”
She raised her brows, pinching her lips together. “Yeah?”
“I’m really sorry I upset you, but I don’t regret kissing you or stopping us. I’m not sure another chain of events made sense here other than not kissing you in the first place.”
Chain of events, really? She sighed. “I’m glad you handled it the way you did, though I would rather have been the rational one that stopped us. I hate feeling rejected.”
Brendan vigorously shook his head. “You aren’t being rejected but rather protected. Being rational is in my nature, but that doesn’t make me right. Case in point, I just sent you mixed signals.” Shuffling his feet, he continued, “Please don’t get the wrong idea about my feelings for you. I want you so badly I can barely think straight. My imagination is making me jealous—only in my dreams would I be lucky enough to touch your precious skin.” He fiddled with his glasses, scrunching his brow as if computing how to proceed. “As it was, I only got to second base with your clothes still on and only because you put my hands there. I think my buddies would laugh in my face and slap me with a first-base accusation.”
After a long pause, his words fully sunk in, and she laughed, just as she was sure he intended. The relief that touched his eyes at her reaction to his self-induced teasing warmed her heart.
He plastered on a tentative smile. “Just to be clear, we’re together now.”
“Are you telling me that or asking?”
“Telling you. You said that you’re thinking clearly, so that means when you said I was your man, you meant it.”
“Well then, you just missed out on some really hot sex for no reason.”
Brendan belted out a laugh. “Touché.” He nodded his chin toward her. “The sex can wait, but staking a claim cannot. Hopefully, this doesn’t scare you off, but after muddling my intentions so badly while trying to do the right thing, I’d like to clarify—I want a committed relationship with you. In no way am I rejecting you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Genevieve’s mouth dropped open, and she quickly snapped it shut. Okay, message received. She certainly felt a lot less rejected, but she was now a heck of a lot more…panicked? He was insane. Who said stuff like that? Uh, no one! Could she handle this? Committing to a guy she barely knew? With years of trained practice, she held her face even, but one look into his tender, trusting eyes, and she knew—she wanted him. Mr. Nice Guy with an Edge might just complement her perfectly. Why not find out? It was just the possibility of losing him like she did all certainty in her life that caused her to pause.
Brendan studied her face, trying to read her. Good luck! She wasn’t even sure how she felt. Rocking back and forth, he finally said, “Are you going to say something?” He gazed at her with so much apprehension her stomach coiled with nerves. “Genevieve, I just want to know if we’re on the same page. If I understand you correctly, both of us want a committed relationship, right?” She held back a smile as he visibly…strategized? So darn cute! Who does that? “I know that’s a lot more intense of an ask than a date, but I just can’t imagine touching you again without knowing if?—”
“I think I do.” What did you just say? Commitment, Gen, really? Are you nuts? Your last relationship didn’t go so well, remember? For all her thoughts about Brendan being hers, actually committing to him was entirely different—it made things real. She nibbled on the inside of her cheek. He’s not Jed. Why not give him a chance?
Brendan nodded, releasing the air from his lungs. “Good, discussion closed. One of my business rules is if you almost get a yes, then don’t back down, but with you, I’m going to have to adjust tactics, or I’ll just keep on prodding and screw this up.” He tossed his suit jacket on the bed, rolling his shirt sleeves up and fanning his exposed bare chest like they were inside a furnace.
Genevieve bit back a moan as Brendan stood before her like a male model ready for a photo shoot. What straight woman didn’t want to stare at a man’s sculpted chest peeking out through a ripped-open business shirt while he rocked a set of tailored black slacks? Damn, he could be on a romance book cover.
Brendan continued babbling while she salivated over him. “So my imagination and I are going to park it on the other side of the room. Otherwise, I’ll follow you into the shower.” Sighing, he adjusted his pants where his unattended excitement was boldly evident. “Even more incentive for me to get to work on this and resolve it because, hot damn, I want to.”
She giggled as he walked over to his briefcase, pulled out his laptop, and propped it open on the dented-up computer desk. Grabbing a stainless-steel bottle from his suitcase, he dumped water into his hand and raked his wet palm up his neck and through his tousled hair. He was hot, all right. Adorable!
Just before she entered the bathroom, he said, “Salted caramel ice cream and nitro cold brew coffee, straight-up, both of which remind me of the color of your eyes.” He quirked a grin. “You?”
OMG, so adorable! “Cotton candy ice cream, and nine times out of ten, I go for a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso.” She nibbled on her lip before adding, “And your eyes remind me of hot cocoa, which I also love.”
Brendan cleared his throat, clearly digging her take on his eyes. “Wow, such a sweet palate to mix with my saltiness.” He winked. “We’re going to complement each other nicely.”
She chuckled softly, loving how much he made her laugh. Whew, for a tentative guy, he sure knew how to turn up the heat. But could he handle his own fire? She couldn’t wait to find out.
