After The Christmas Party…. Janice LynnЧитать онлайн книгу.
you, we didn’t do anything, not really. We ended up here because I drove you home from the Christmas party and you invited me in. And, although there’s another bedroom, there is no bed.”
Which meant he must have at least considered sleeping elsewhere.
“I wasn’t doing the floor,” he said matter-of-factly, “and I’m too tall to comfortably sleep on your girly sofa.”
She did have a girly sofa. A plush Victorian piece that she loved because it had been the first piece of furniture she’d ever bought for herself, but it really wasn’t that comfy. Not that comfort mattered so much, because she never had company or spent much time there.
Trying to recall the previous night’s events, she closed her eyes, thought back. The Christmas party. She’d danced with Riley, sung one silly reindeer song with him, celebrated that he’d won one of the door prizes when random names had been drawn from a stocking, then they’d left. He’d driven her home. They’d walked into her house and then he’d kissed her. No mistletoe required. Just a simple good-night kiss that had somehow morphed into something more, something hotter, something that hadn’t been simple at all.
Wow, if his kiss had been that amazing she might have really woken up with a smile had they had sex. Then again, had they had sex he’d know how lame her lovemaking actually was.
Her panties weren’t the only thing she was wearing.
She reached up, touched the door prize he’d won and given to her. “You won this.”
He shrugged, causing the covers to slip a little lower at his waist. “I gave it to you.”
He’d taken the pearl necklace out of the velvet box and fastened it around her neck. There had been something mesmerizing about him putting the necklace on her. Something erotic and gentle and totally captivating.
Kind of like his abs.
No wonder she’d asked him to stay. He’d been the perfect date.
Only they hadn’t been on a date.
“You can have it back if you want it,” she offered, in case he regretted having given her the piece. Maybe he’d expected bodily payment for the beads. Ha, had they been out of a gumball machine he might have gotten his money’s worth, but that’s about it if Chase’s claims about her skills could be believed.
Riley’s brows formed a V. “Why would I want them back? Don’t you like the necklace?”
“It’s lovely.”
“Not nearly as lovely as you are.”
He was smooth with the lines. Too smooth perhaps. She swallowed.
“You told me I was beautiful last night.”
Actually, he’d repeated the compliment several times.
“You were.” His eyes bored into hers. She didn’t have to be looking directly at him to feel his stare. He stirred beneath the covers, but he didn’t reach for her. Somehow she knew he wanted to.
“You are,” he continued. “Very beautiful.”
Last night, in her haze, he’d made her feel beautiful. Like the most beautiful woman in the world. This morning she felt like a woman who’d gone to bed without washing her face or brushing her teeth. She was rank and knew it.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true.”
The sincerity in his voice told her that he was either the world’s greatest liar or he believed what he said. Maybe he really did have fantastic blue contact lenses and they were blurred with sleep, leaving him blinded to the truth.
Making sure to keep the covers pulled over her almost bare body, she rolled over to face him directly. She could feel his body heat, could feel the magnetic pull of him. She wanted to touch. Really really wanted to touch. His sheer physical perfection robbed her of thought. Or maybe it was his bare chest that made her brain waves frazzle. He was the one who was beautiful. Eye-poppingly, mouth-wateringly, finger-itchingly, body-twitchingly beautiful.
It occurred to her that the happy trail leading beneath the covers didn’t appear to have anything material impeding its path. At least she was wearing underwear.
No sexual intercourse, he’d said. That left a lot of possibilities. Oh, my.
“What happened to your clothes?” she choked out, more and more flustered that he was naked in her bed.
Although she recalled the removal of her clothes, she didn’t recall how he’d gone from fully dressed to whatever he still wore beneath her covers.
He was wearing something. Wasn’t he? Just because she couldn’t see any outlines, it didn’t mean boxers or cotton briefs weren’t there, right?
His eyes glittered. “You don’t recall ripping them off me with your teeth, princess?”
She’d taken them off him? With her teeth? Her jaw dropped then clamped shut in case her teeth got any fresh ideas.
“Okay, it was bad of me to tease you.” His grin turned devilish. “You didn’t use your teeth.”
She’d…She closed her eyes and tried to recall the events of the night before. “We had sex, didn’t we?”
“I already told you that we didn’t have sex.” He sounded annoyed that she’d asked again, that she hadn’t taken him at his word.
Unable to resist a moment longer, she reached out beneath the covers to touch his chest. His bare chest. To see if the feel of his skin was familiar, to see if touching him would cause a rush of memories.
“Then why are we naked in my bed?”
“I wasn’t planning to spend the night anywhere so I hadn’t packed any pajamas…not that I normally wear anything to bed. But I’m not naked. I’m wearing boxers and would be happy to show you if you’d like proof.” He covered her hand with his, brushed his thumb across her skin. “Besides, you looked as if you needed me to stay. My guess is that you don’t drink often.”
Still reeling from his offer to show her his underwear and just how tempted she was to take him up on that offer, she focused on the other part of what he’d said. “I don’t drink at all and I didn’t drink anything last night except fruit punch.”
“That was rum punch you were drinking, Trinity. It had alcohol in it.”
“The punch was…but…” Hadn’t she felt funny? Hadn’t she noticed that the more she’d drunk the less nervous she’d been? Dear Lord. “I was punch drunk.”
Looking as if he wanted to laugh, he just grinned. “You were a bit inebriated but no worries, you were a cute drunk.”
A cute drunk. As if such a creature existed. No one was a cute drunk. At least no one Trinity had ever had the misfortune of seeing drunk. Her mother had certainly never been cute. Chase had not been cute.
“I didn’t know there was alcohol in the punch.”
“It’s okay, princess.” His thumb paused and he gave her a sympathetic smile. “I figured out that you weren’t at a hundred percent. That’s why nothing happened.”
She tried again to remember the events of the night before, but only bits and pieces came back to her. “You wanted something to happen?”
He gave her a look that questioned if she had really asked that. “Of course I wanted something to happen.”
“Why?”
He laughed but the sound came out a little stilted. “That’s a question with a very obvious answer.”
“Because you’re a guy?”
“Despite what the female population may believe, not every guy wants sex to the point of doing so with any willing