“I’ve never been like this with anyone either,” she says, and I’m as glad as if she’d told me I’d taken her virginity. “I’ve imagined it sometimes, but I’ve never had the courage to ask a guy to try it out.”
“If you had to ask, it would be beside the point.”
“Well. Yes. Exactly.”
Unlike her, I haven’t thought about it. But I get it. It feels natural. Right. The way I want to make her bend to me again and again—it’s like a second engine I’ve just discovered. An engine that’s fully tuned and raring to go.
The possibilities of future trysts stream through my mind as I gather her clothes. Silently, I help her put them on, the whole time thinking about the next time I get her undressed, thinking about her wrists tied behind her back with the sleeves of her blouse. Thinking of the cups of her bra pulled down, propping her tits up for my exploration.
And it hits me. “I have to see you again.”
She takes a shaky breath in, and I’m sure that acquiescence is on the tip of her tongue.
Except then she turns away.
“It’s not a good idea,” she says matter-of-factly, bending to get her jacket. She’s careful to keep her distance and avoid my eyes.
“Uh, what?” I totally did not expect that response.
She straightens and forces her eyes to mine. “I said it’s not a good idea. It’s not. So we had our fun, but we’re done now.”
“Bullshit.” No fucking way is she getting away with that. She must want me to convince her to change her answer.
She shakes her head, her mouth drawn down sullenly. “I have things that I want—things that aren’t you. Things like my job. My father already doesn’t take me seriously. Spending time with you will look like I’m using my body to get what I want at Werner Media, and that won’t help prove to him I’m actually qualified.”
“Your father doesn’t have to know. In fact, he shouldn’t know. Because that’s just…” I don’t have kids—obviously—but I have a niece, and there’s no way I ever want to hear about her having sex with someone. “That’s weird, is what it is. Besides, maybe I can help you figure out a way to get him to listen to you.”
She squints at me. “And how do you plan to do that?”
“I haven’t gotten that far. We should talk about it over dinner.” I wink, which is maybe a little much.
“Not happening.”
Yeah, definitely should have foregone the wink.
I grab the edge of her jacket and pull her to me. Clasping my arms around her waist, I kiss her forehead. “Come on. Imagine it. Us, exploring this thing further. Pushing boundaries. Discovering what it is that we really want out of a sexual encounter. Together. Are you imagining it?”
“Maybe.”
I bend to study her features. “You are. I see it in your eyes.”
“Imagining doesn’t mean considering.”
Damn, I love her creamy European complexion—it’s the best tell, her every emotion showing up scarlet on her skin.
She knows it too. She twists out of my embrace, trying to hide her face, but I catch her from behind and wrap my arms around the bottom of her breasts.
“You are so considering it,” I say, pressing my mouth to her ear. “Let me help you with your decision by giving you this little bit of information—the things I want to do to you? The ways I want to fuck you? The nasty things I want to whisper to you? We haven’t even scratched the surface.”
“Chandler…” she says with a shiver.
“See me again, Genny.” Without letting her go, I twist my torso around so I can watch her face. I have her physically gridlocked, and when she tries to push my arms off, I only tighten my grip.
She struggles, and Jesus, does it make my boxer briefs feel tight, and it also makes me wonder once again if I’m doing the wrong thing, crossing a line. Mixing up my desires with her consent.
She lets out a frustrated sigh. “You need to let me go. Please.”
“First, say you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow.”
“No.” She isn’t budging.
Neither am I. “Tonight, then.”
“I have plans.”
It could be just an excuse, but I’m suddenly jealous wondering who her plans are with. “Are you playing hard to get?”
“I don’t need to play—I am hard to get. Now let me go.”
But I don’t want to. Which is fucked. I mean, who the hell am I, and what the hell happened to my standard protocol?
It’s gone out the window, obviously, because I’m holding her tight. “Say you’ll go out with me first. You know you want to.”
“No. I really don’t.” She pushes against my arms, and I don’t let her go, but I twirl her around so I can face her. And then I really look into her eyes, and I see that she’s serious. Dead serious.
Fuck. Did I just read her totally wrong?
I let her go. Reluctantly.
“Thank you.” Her lips purse, and she won’t meet my eyes again. She nods toward the door leading to the hall elevator. “I don’t suppose I should leave the way I came. Will that get me out of here?”
“It will.” I try once more to woo her. “If you’re sure you really want to go.” Yes, I give her my charm-your-panties-off grin.
She rolls her eyes and moves toward the door.
I follow, confused. Because I have no idea where I went wrong in the last few minutes. Didn’t we just have amazing sex? Didn’t we both say we liked it? And then, did she just turn me down for another repeat?