How long they lay there she didn’t know, but the longer they lay together, the more she wanted to stay there. Guilt rose to choke her. She could make all the excuses in the world, but she couldn’t escape one fact—this man had been her sister’s lover. She’d willingly given herself to him, with little care for the consequences, to how it would change their relationship. Panic swelled within her. She had no idea what happened now.
How could she regret this? She’d had certain expectations of what her first time would be like. Her near rape in high school had turned her against the idea, made her afraid to try, for fear every man would be the same. Dillon surprised her. He was patient and gentle, more concerned with her pleasure than his. He made her first time something she’d remember forever. It had far exceeded her expectations.
She’d denied herself this simple pleasure for too long—the power of a physical connection. Dillon opened the floodgates. The man made her yearn for things she hadn’t ever thought possible, things she’d been too busy to notice were missing. Love. Passion. For once in her life, she did something not in the plan. Shouldn’t she be allowed one point of selfishness, one moment in time all for herself?
What she expected to happen after they made love, she didn’t know. Maybe the softening of her emotions, of having shared something so intimate with a man she’d known most of her life had addled her brain. She expected…something sweet. Soft sighs. An exchange of tender, conspiratorial glances. Laying together, still joined, limp limbs still tangled, separated only by a thin sheen of perspiration, the muscles beneath her palms slowly tensed again.
He finally lifted his head and slid off to her side—distinctly
not
curling against her or enveloping her in his embrace—and pinned her with that accusing stare again. Her heart lurched, and she found herself caught between the expectation of it and the disappointing reality of actually seeing it in his eyes.
“You should’ve told me.” His brow furrowed. Panic screamed from the depths of his eyes when he sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.
“You regret it.” She let out a heavy sigh, surprised by how much it hurt to realize.
He drew in a deep breath and dragged his hands through his hair. “No.” The word left his mouth on an expelled breath. “But I have to be honest. I’m not in the market for a serious relationship. I’ve told you that.”
She froze, unable to believe her ears. He had to say that now? Of all times? They were still naked, for crying out loud. She wasn’t asking for any of that, hadn’t expected it, but he threw it at her nonetheless. Reminding her of her place in his life. Which only made her feel used. Tossed aside like yesterday’s trash.
What had she expected? Dillon was a self-proclaimed bachelor. A man determined to stay that way. He told her so himself.
“Did I ask you for one?” She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, disgusted with herself for believing in the pull between them. What had she expected? It was sex. Only passion. The cravings of the flesh. It wasn’t going to be like in the movies or in novels, all romantic and steamy, but deep inside she wanted that and found the reality less than desirable. It made her feel like a fool. Like a stupid silly high school girl who got in way over her head.
Unable to keep the pain from reaching her voice or the tears from pricking her eyelids, she exited the bed and went in search of her clothes.
Dillon proved faster and rounded the bed at her. One strong arm snaked around her waist, gently pulling her back to him. His voice was soft and gentle in her ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I used you. That’s not how I meant it.”
“We used each other.” She jerked free of his touch and side-stepped around him, gathering her clothing off the floor. “I was a virgin by choice, not because I’m young and stupid. No worries. I get it. Loud and clear.”
She didn’t bother to wait for a reply.
Chapter Nine
Dillon’s heart hung heavy when Emma stormed from the room. Completely naked, her hair flew out behind her, her bare backside disappearing around the corner and into the hallway. He ought to go after her, smooth things over. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, had tried for exactly the opposite.
Except, he knew chasing after her wouldn’t change the way he felt. He’d gone down the marriage and family road once and gotten burned. He’d given his heart to one too many women who were only after his money. It hurt beyond belief to find out after he was in love with a woman that she didn’t care for him in the least. He did it not once, or twice, but four times.
Leila was the worst. He fell the hardest for her and gave the most of himself. In the end, it left him feeling like a fool for not seeing the lies sooner. He decided after Leila left he wouldn’t put his heart out there again.
No, he couldn’t go down that road again. Not even for Emma. She deserved more than what little he could offer her.
Knowing she deserved the truth from him instead of lies didn’t make him feel any better. That he took her virginity on top of it all left a very bad taste in his mouth. Made him feel like he used her for his own selfish benefit. Which made him exactly what everyone accused him of being. More to the point, if he felt that way, how did
she
feel?
He dropped onto the edge of the bed, ducked his head, and raked his hands through his hair. Boy, he managed to screw this one up. They were back to that place again, where she didn’t trust him and assumed the worst of him. They’d been here entirely too much over the course of their lives. It seemed they were forever destined to be here, where she didn’t trust him. He longed to be in that place where her smiles ran free and her face was open, instead of guarded and reserved.
He couldn’t leave things the way they were. Some way, somehow he had to fix this. She deserved that much.
After getting rid of the condom, he yanked on his shorts and jeans and went in search of her. She was in the kitchen. Fully dressed now in a pair of black slacks and a short-sleeved pink blouse, she stood at the sink, washing the dishes he used to feed Annie lunch. Sidling up behind her, he braced his hands on the counter on either side of her.
He meant the action to keep her from walking away again, but he could only focus on her soft curves brushing his. Only minutes before she’d been naked and writhing beneath him and his entire body hummed with the potent memory. They shared something and even he couldn’t deny it. The sheer restraint it took not to lean into her, not to wrap her in his arms, had tension knotting his shoulders.
It didn’t help matters any that when he leaned his head beside her ear, her soft floral scent swirled enticingly around him. Drawing a deep breath, he forced his mind to focus. He may not get another chance, and he needed her to hear him out.
“I won’t lie to you. I’d love nothing more than to explore this new aspect of our relationship. I’ve wanted you for a very long time. I also need you to believe you are anything but another notch on my bedpost. I have far too much respect for you to ever use you like that.” More than he had words to tell her. “But I can’t offer you anything more than this.”
He paused, drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a rush of air. The words tumbled out on a simple need to share them, to make her understand.
“Leila and I were together for over three years. I really thought she was it. Turned out she was like all the rest, and when it ended…” The painful memories rose up around him. He shook his head, lowering his voice. “It about killed me to watch her leave. I can’t do this again. I’m just not ready.”
He spoke nothing but the truth, but he hated saying it. It made him feel like a louse.
Emma shut off the water and turned in his arms, forcing him to straighten, and she leaned back against the counter. For a long moment, her eyes searched his, stared almost through him. Made him wonder what she looked for, what she saw, and if she’d voice it. Finally, one brow arched. “Did it ever occur to you I’m not asking for any of that?”
He shook his head with all the misery that twisted inside of him. “You deserve a hell of a lot more than a fling.”
“Maybe that’s not your decision to make.” She laid a hand against his chest, her fingers warm and soft against his skin. “I’m a grown woman. I’m not naïve. I know perfectly well what I’m doing, and I’m very capable of making my own decisions about what I want.”
He covered her hand with his, curling his fingers around hers, for reasons he didn’t want to fathom, needing the connection with her, however minute. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then stop treating me like I’m one of those women.” Her fingers curled against his. “We got caught up in each other. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”
Could it really be that simple? With anybody else the answer would be yes, but with Emma? He didn’t know. More than he cared to admit, he yearned to explore this side of her, this side of them, see where it led him. His body vibrated with the need to wrap his arms around her, if only to feel her against him.
Exactly why he shouldn’t. He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted her. There’d always been something so soft, so honest about Emma that made him crave to be near her. The effect she had on him scared the hell out of him. He was starting to envision her in his life permanently. The vision of the three of them like a family came far too easily.
“Listen.” He took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets. He forced himself to change the subject before he went mad thinking about it all. “It’s going to take me a bit of finagling, but I may have somewhere I’d like to take you tomorrow. If I can pull it off, will you go with me? I’d like to show you something.”
He had a surprise for her, had wanted to wait until the details were final before he sprang it on her, but now seemed the perfect time. With any luck, it would help bridge the gap between them. To prove once and for all he wasn’t the man she assumed him to be had become very important, and he hoped this would earn back some of her trust. Permanently.
It also gave him some place to focus his attention while he sorted out his thoughts.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You won’t tell me what it is.”
He shook his head. “I’d like it to be a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.” She pursed her lips, a frown puckering her brow.
“Everybody says that, but nobody ever really means it. Will you go?”
She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down, searching his eyes. “All right.”
“Good.” He gave her a soft smile, pleased beyond measure she hadn’t turned him down. They’d taken a step in the right direction.
* * *
“Why is it I have to wear this again?” Emma reached up to touch the makeshift blindfold Dillon tied to the back of her head.
“Because it won’t be a surprise if you see where we’re going.”
She pursed her lips. “I hate surprises, Dillon.”
He chuckled, the warm, rich sound teasing her senses. “No, you hate not knowing.”
Actually, she found the feel of him behind her the most unnerving. Everything had changed between them. This morning he looked at her differently. His deep, dark eyes held an unmistakable longing, a shared sense of intimacy when their gazes collided, and it made her weak in the knees.
It was a sense of mutual connection and it called to her, beckoning like a piece of candy, sinful and delicious and oh so tempting. She refused to overthink her actions, to regret what happened between them. If she did, the guilt would eat her alive. For the time being, she held on to it. It was something completely and totally selfish. Her boyfriend in high school was wrong. It didn’t make her a slut just because she got caught up in passion. For the first time in her life, she wanted to let herself get lost in an emotion. To hell with what anybody said about it.
Did she want it to move further? She didn’t know. The thought scared her to death. Casual or serious, she’d never taken this big of a step in any of her romantic relationships before.
Dillon shifted from behind her. “You ready?”
She reached up to touch the blindfold again. “I can’t see anything. Why not wait ’til I’m in the car to put this on?”
He slipped his hand into hers, threading their fingers. His warm breath feathered along her cheek. “Because I can.”
She didn’t need to see his face to know a self-pleased grin was spread across it. The arrogant, amused tone of his voice said it all and she couldn’t help smiling in response. She was putty in his hands with this blindfold on and not only did he know it, but he obviously liked it that way. God help her, his arrogance was sexy right then.
“Actually, the answer is two-fold. It’s supposed to be a tease. I wanted to make this fun for you.” His voice lowered to an intimate murmur. “I happen to like teasing you, because I love watching you smile. You’re incredibly beautiful when you smile. You don’t do it enough.”
A heated shiver ran the length of her spine. She didn’t know what to say to that. Or even if she ought to say anything. Lucky for her, Dillon continued before she could think of a proper response.
“Right now, not only are you smiling, but your entire demeanor has changed. You’ve relaxed. Which brings me to my second reason.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s also an act of faith. I screwed up yesterday, and now there’s tension between us. I don’t like it when you look at me like you aren’t sure if you can trust me, and I don’t like knowing you aren’t comfortable with me. I’m not anywhere near perfect, but I’m not that guy who hurt you and I’m not the guy you think I am. Like this, with the blindfold on, you have to put yourself in my hands, trust me to take care of you, to not let anything happen to you.” He shifted from behind her, and took her hands in his, stroking his thumbs over her knuckles. “I’m asking you to trust me, Em.”
The simple feel of his hand in hers, warm skin against warm skin, electrified her nerve endings. His words floored her. That had to be the sweetest thing any man had ever said to her. He was right. Things were awkward between them this morning.
Did
she trust him?