“You want me to—”
“Yep. Give me your sexiest look,” she encouraged. “Then I’ll judge if it will spark his libido.”
“Okay. Um, here goes.” I breathed out a slow breath and relaxed my face. Then I cocked my head to the side, batted my eyelashes, and smiled wide, teeth showing.
It must’ve went horribly wrong because Emily wrinkled her nose and cringed. “Um, yeah, that’s not sexy. Creepy, maybe, but definitely not sexy.”
I covered my mouth and giggled with embarrassment. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That was obvious by your epic fail of turning me on.”
I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t have turned you on, anyway.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. You are pretty cute.” She leaned closer and toyed with the stem of her wineglass, licking her lips as she lowered her chin and looked up at me beneath her dark lashes.
The sudden change in her demeanor had me stammering. “I…um…”
Emily sat back in her chair and threw her head with a laugh. “I’m just messing with you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I thought you were flirting with me.”
“Exactly,” she muttered, taking a sip of her wine. “You saw how I did that, right? You can totally do it, too. Just practice a little. Then Cowboy won’t know what hit him. He’ll have to be carried out on a stretcher.”
“But what do I do in the meantime?”
“Have another glass of wine for the extra boost of courage and then show him your panties. The rest will fall into place.”
“Are you sure?”
Emily grinned. “As Cowboy would say, ‘God always takes care of helpless creatures.’”
Chapter Fourteen
Cowboy snagged my house keys from my hand and unlocked my front door, pushing it open and stepping aside to let me enter. He followed me inside and shut the door behind us, then tossed the keys on the small entryway table.
To steady myself, I pressed my back against the wall.
Once he turned back to face me, a slow grin lifted his cheeks. He stepped closer, allowing his warm body to lean into me as his firm mouth dropped over mine. His tongue slid along my bottom lip where he then nipped gently. A feverish frenzy coursed through my veins.
My hands moved over his rib cage and onto his back, feeling the hard-packed muscles tighten beneath my fingertips. His hands traveled up my arms to my neck as his knee parted my legs, sliding my skirt up between my thighs. Within seconds, my nails were digging trenches into his shoulder blades.
Moments later, he slowed things down and rationed his touches, then stopped altogether. He backed away slowly. “We should probably dial it down a little before we do something you’ll regret.” Then he plopped down on the sofa and blew out a breath.
A sinking feeling came over me. “Me…or you?”
My remark gave him pause, and his eyes flickered in my direction. “Of course I mean you. Why would I regret it?”
I sat beside him on the couch. “I don’t know. But you seem awfully sure that I would. Maybe you’re the one with the issue.”
“No, of course not.”
“Good.” I leaned closer to him and brushed my lips over his ear, but he only stiffened. “Maybe I should go slip into something a little more comfortable.”
He swallowed hard and pulled at his shirt collar. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
I rose and wobbled toward my bedroom, pausing in the doorway to look back at him. He faced away from me and was eyeing a framed art canvas on the wall, as if he wasn’t the least bit concerned with my intentions.
I don’t know what I’d expected. Hell, I thought I knew what he expected, but apparently I was wrong. Or doing something wrong. His preoccupation unnerved me almost as much as what I was about to do. Most men—at least the ones in their right minds—paid attention when a girl said she was going to take off her clothes.