“This?” I ask. God, the intensity in his eyes is unnerving.
“Yes, the reality that we’re both mature adults who consented to having sex, but who are now suddenly shy and don’t know how to address the fact that we did in fact have sex—incredible sex, if I might add—and come to an understanding about what we’re going to do about it. That’s the this I’m referring to.”
“Oh, that this,” I say softly.
“Yes, that this.” He folds his arms over his chest. “Do you regret it?” Point blank. Matter of fact.
“I guess not.”
“Well, that enthusiastic response is a real boost for my ego,” he chuckles.
“No—I don’t regret it—but it was just supposed to be sex. Now it’s obviously more than that because we have to work together and live together and—”
Zane holds up his hand to stop me. “And you’re complicating things when they don’t need to be complicated. Do you like me, Harlow?”
I laugh at his ridiculous question. “I hope I do. I slept with you, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I roll my eyes and huff. “Yes, I like you.”
“Do you still like me after last night?”
“Yes.” My voice is softer this time around.
“Then that’s all we need to know at this point.”
“It’s not that simple,” I say when he starts to walk away.
“Isn’t it though?”
Leave it to a man to think sex and the aftermath is easy.
“No, but—”
“Was it a mistake, Harlow?”
I open my mouth to speak, my head already shaking from side to side when he reaches out and puts a finger to my lips. “Don’t answer that now. Take your time. Figure it out for yourself. We have a long few weeks ahead of us and the last thing I want to do is make it awkward for us, but at the same time . . . if it’s just sex as you say, then hell if I’m going to stop you if you want to have some more.”
I chuckle a nervous laugh as I process what he’s saying, offering, asking . . . “Regardless of everything, we still have to keep up the pretext that—”
“You and your pretexts.” He shakes his head. “Yes, even if you say no, I’ll still have to kiss you when we’re in public. I’ll still have to touch you. I’ll still have to do everything a loving couple does . . . the only difference is every time I do, you’ll be reminded of last night.” His smirk taunts where his words teased.
“Same goes for you,” I reply, knowing damn well it won’t be easy.
“I’m not easily fazed.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Not by a beautiful woman?” I ask and rise from my chair so that we’re chest to chest.
“Dime a dozen.”
“Not when I go like this?” I lean up on my toes and brush a kiss to his lips, my tongue licking against them.
“Been kissed before,” he says in the same even tone, despite the sudden desire darkening his eyes.
“Your nipples are sensitive though. What about when I go like this?” I run my hands from his shoulders to his chest, the pads of my fingertips circling over the hardened discs beneath his shirt.
“I can manage just fine.” A lift of one eyebrow.
The bastard. He wants to act like a hard ass, like sleeping with me again is something he’d turn down when the sudden hardening of his cock against his slacks tells me differently.
Two can play this game.
“And this?” I ask coyly as I scrape my fingernails down the line of his abdomen. The muscles flex beneath my touch, his only tell that he is in fact, fazed. Well, that and the head of his cock currently hardening beneath his slacks. His quick hiss of a breath when I scratch my nails over its tip.
Before I can circle back over it, Zane’s hand flashes to grip my wrist. “Careful, Harlow.”
Our eyes lock in challenge, laying down the gauntlet.
“Is there a problem?” I ask sweetly. “Is it going to be hard to not be affected?”
“Not if you give me a response to my original question,” he murmurs, voice pure sex that I feel all the way through my body.
“And play into your hand?”
“Well?” he says with an angle of his head and a glance down to where he currently has my wrist handcuffed, my hand against his cock.
“You’re used to women jumping when you say yes. I don’t jump unless I want to, and—”
“It’s not my fault women can’t resist me and yet, I can resist them.”
God I want to wipe that smirk off his face right now.
“Oh, I can resist you just fine.”
“You sure about that?” He takes my hand off his cock and moves it so that it rubs against my own aching flesh. “Because . . . we could always just get this over with right now. You could tell me you want me again. I could tell you I figured that to be the case. And then we’d both know where we stand. Just face it, Harlow . . . you can’t resist me.”
“Resist you?” I laugh. “I can barely stand you.”