“You’re shaking like crazy. Are you cold?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I scared you, didn’t I?”
“A bit,” I admit.
“Scared myself, too.”
I wisely decide not to ask him what that means.
***
I wake up that night around three in the morning. My sleep schedule is all screwed up, and knowing I won’t be able to go back to sleep anytime soon, I tiptoe down the stairs and head outside. I sit in one of the chairs I sat in days earlier when I first arrived at Harris’s house.
He was quiet all throughout dinner, only speaking when I asked him a direct question. After we finished eating, I shoved him out of the kitchen, promising to clean up everything myself. He stayed away from me for the rest of the evening and I didn’t see him before I went to bed.
The door behind me opens and he steps out.
“Been out here long?” he asks.
“Just a few minutes.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you this afternoon,” he says.
“I know.”
“And yet I did.” He steps forward so he’s in front of me, but not facing me. “And I’ll probably have to do it again.”
“I know.”
“Do you, Athena?”
I stand up and move behind him. Something tells me to touch his shoulder, but I hesitate. This type of touch is like a foreign language to me. I know all about bringing a man pleasure, but next to nothing about how to bring him comfort.
Never going to learn if you don’t practice.
I place my hand on top of his shoulder. He sucks in a breath, and I wonder if he knows how difficult that simple move was for me.
“I gave you my word that I’d trust you,” I say. “You haven’t let me down yet.”
“Give me time.”
“You could have ratted me out to Mike anytime you wanted and you didn’t. Not just today, but lots of other times, too. Well,” I said remembering, “except for that first night with Theo.”
“What first night with Theo?”
“When you told Mike I was late.”
He turns around to face me. “I didn’t tell Mike you were late.”
“You didn’t?”
He shakes his head.
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know. It might have been Theo. I promise it wasn’t me.”
I tilt my head. The moonlight makes his hair look lighter then it really is, and his eyes are more intense than they’ve ever been before.
“Why are you so nice to me?” I ask.
“What?”
“Why are you so nice to me?” I repeat.
His voice drops an octave. “I thought that much was clear.” He cups my face and runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “I want all good things for you. I want you to be safe, doing a job you’re excited about. I want you to never feel like you have to look over your shoulder for fear of who you’ll find there. I want too damn much, Athena, and I’m the worst kind of hypocrite there is because when you stood naked in my living room, I just wanted you period.”
I gasp, and he gives me a sad smile.
He’s been beating himself up over this all day. Because a naked woman stood before him and he wanted her. I could go back to bed and pretend like I never heard him. I’m pretty sure that’s what he wants, and he’ll act like we never had this conversation in the morning.
Or....
I cover his hand with mine. “Caden.”
“Don’t, Athena.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do, Harris. I’m damn tired of people telling me what to do.”
And with that, I pull him to me and brush my lips against his.
He’s frozen in place. Either that or he’s told himself he’s not going to respond. I pull away slightly and whisper, “Damn it. Kiss me back.” But again, he doesn’t move. “Please,” I add.
Just when I think he’s going to stay in that same spot forever, he groans and takes me in his arms. His head tilts, and his lips cover mine, and holy hell I had no idea.
This. This is a kiss. This urging of his mouth in time with mine. The way he tastes and takes and gives and licks. I didn’t know so much could be conveyed in a kiss and I almost weep that it’s taken me so long to understand. What had been missing with Isaiah, was present with Harris. I don’t know if it’s because Isaiah was somewhat familiar or if Harris still has that hint of danger.
His hands come up to frame my face and he deepens the kiss.
Never. It’s never been like this with anyone. And I want more and I don’t want it to stop. He takes a step closer and it’s obvious that he wants more and doesn’t want it to stop, either. He runs one of his hands down my side, ghosting my breast, and my body shivers in a new and decadent way. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Isaiah is a good man, I should be drawn to him, but I’m not. It’s Harris who’s touch is awakening those parts and feelings I long thought dead.
I need to touch more of him, and I slide my hand down his back, enjoying the hardness of his muscles beneath my fingertips. I can tell he is beautiful beneath his clothes, and I almost laugh because whoever heard of a man being beautiful?
I’m desperate to see him. My fingers dip under the hem of his shirt and inch it upward. His skin is hot to my touch. Hot and hard and lean and I’ve never wanted so much before.
But he pulls back. “I can’t.” He’s panting, his forehead presses against mine. “I can’t, Athena.”
“Why?” Why when I’m so close and need so much is he shutting the door to keep me where I am? Hot tears burn in my eyes. He knows I’m no good. Why would he want me?
“Don’t. Don’t cry.” He sweeps his thumb beneath my lashes, catching my tears before they fall. “And don’t think for a minute that I don’t want you so bad I’m nearly blind over it.”
“Then why?”
“Because when we make love, it’s going to be when we’re both free.”
“But —” I want to protest, but he stops me with a finger over my lips.
“No buts. I will have you, count on it, but not like this. Not when you’re here this way and not when you have no choice about where you live.”
Even with his words, the doubt that consumes me is painful. “Are you sure?”
And then he completely steals my heart, “I’m more than sure. When I finally have you in my bed, I’m going to do more than just steal a kiss.” His mouth drops to my ear and his words are wicked and hot in my ear. “I’m going to feast on you. I’m going to fucking devour you.”
Chapter Eighteen
We’re having dinner two nights later when Caden gets a phone call. He’s not happy; he’s frowning when he sees the display, frowning when he takes the call to the other room, and frowning when he returns.
“I have to go,” he says. “I hate leaving you.”
I hate it, too. I don’t want to be alone in this house. “Is it him?”
He nods, and even though I don’t like it, maybe it’s better for him to go now. Maybe that means we won’t have to have a another web session anytime soon.
“Go on,” I say. “I’ll be fine.”
But he doesn’t look convinced.
I’m cleaning up the kitchen shortly after Caden leaves when I hear a knock on the back door. I ignore it at first. Who knocks on the back door? Besides, it’s the first time Harris has left me in the house alone, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little freaked out that the minute he’s gone someone’s knocking on the door.
But whoever it is, they’re dedicated to getting my attention and I decide I can at least peek out the window to see who it is. I head up the stairs to look at them from the second story. That way, they won’t see me checking them out.
Once upstairs, I pull the curtain aside and look down.
Isaiah?
What is he doing here? My heart leaps into my chest at the sight of him. But then I remember Harris told me Isaiah was married, and all I feel is conflicted. I want to believe Harris hasn’t lied to me about anything.