“I don’t know. You tell me. You’re the only one who’s been there,” he said. Suddenly there was nothing but seriousness in his voice.
That got her eyes to soften, and he took the moment to cup her hips and tug her closer. She still kept her arms crossed. Fine by him, because he’d also been serious when talking about using his mouth on her.
“I thought about you today,” he said.
She frowned. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Because you’re a nice thought.”
She gave a small laugh. She reached one of her hands toward his chest and slowly traced a line along his pec with her finger. He was really happy he hadn’t put a shirt on now because feeling her touch, no matter how brief, on his skin was a slice of fuckin’ awesome.
“Did you think about why you keep testing our boundaries in public?” she asked.
“Actually, yeah, a little,” he admitted. “Among other thoughts. But I guess you come around and make it hard…” He paused for dramatic effect. “To focus.”
She gave a little scoff that sounded more like a laugh. “Well, you make things difficult.” She ran her finger up and down again then glanced at his mouth. “What other things did you think about?” she asked softly.
Honestly? He thought about her in everything. And for no particular reason nor anything specific. He thought of her smile, her eyes. Wondered what she was wearing and if she was baking. Tried to picture her in her life, even though he knew he could never be a part of it in the way he wanted. Pictured her in his bed…waking up with her. That could never happen, though. He’d be run out of town because Beaufort wasn’t big enough for the both of them. Lemon-Anne would disown him—heck, knowing her stern standards, she might disown Natalie, too, for having scandalized the family name. And he’d lose everything—his friends, the only family he knew… But he didn’t want to focus on that now. He only wanted Natalie.
But he couldn’t tell her that. That kind of pressure would be so unfair. And he didn’t do relationships. He couldn’t. So instead he went with—
“I thought of your taste. The sweet vanilla.” She glanced up at him, and he ran his finger under her chin. “Do you think of me?”
“I thought of how I need the van keys,” she said.
He laughed. She wasn’t pulling any punches, and he kind of liked it. It kept his ego in check. But then she blinked twice and admitted, “I thought of your skin.”
“My skin, huh?”
She nodded. “You have ridiculously soft skin.”
That made him frown. “Um, by soft skin, clearly you mean rugged, manly skin.” He held up his hands and waved his palms. “Calluses.”
She just laughed and placed her whole hand on his chest and rubbed slowly up, then back down. “Sorry, buttercup, but you’re a softy.”
“Nope, no way,” he said, and flexed his pec for effect while her palm was resting over it.
“Yep,” she argued. “Your hands may be rough, but your skin, like right here”—she placed her hand over his heart—“is super, super, soft.”
“I can guarantee there’s at least one hard thing about me,” he teased.
She didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, I know. You’re hard everywhere,” she agreed. Her hand trailed lower until she reached the waistline of his shorts. “Especially your…” He took a deep breath, but right when he thought she’d grab his straining cock, she said, “Head.”
She pulled away and started to walk toward the door.
What the hell? She’d gotten him worked up on purpose and was now walking away?
“Whoa, that’s pretty rich coming from the stubbornest woman I know,” he called.
“You have a hard head, Easton. That’s not my opinion, that’s a fact. And I’m not stubborn, I’m just usually right. There’s a difference.”
“Where the hell are you going?”
“Home, to get ready for my date. Call me when you find the van keys.”
She went to open his front door, but he was on her in two seconds flat and kept her inside. He whipped her around and pushed her back against the wall.
“You’re toying with me, baby. And that’s not nice.”
“Just like you toyed with me at that CPR class?”
“I did not…” Okay, he did. A little. But not to embarrass her. He did it to be near her. “I just wanted you for a second.”
“In public? With all the women staring?”
“Yes!” he admitted. Because deep down, he wanted everyone to see him with a woman like Natalie, to pretend, for a single stolen moment in time, that he deserved a woman like her.
“I want you, Natalie.”
She shoved at his chest and lifted her leg to his hip to keep him close at the same time. She was hot and ready, and he was, too.
“That’s an awful thing to say,” she snapped.
“That I want you? Jesus, woman, you’re so damn frustrating. You don’t want me to want you?”
“No! And I don’t want to want you.”
“But you do,” he growled. He cupped her thigh and tugged her so close that her skirt hiked up, and he pressed his hard cock against her core. “Admit it. You want me.”