And he did. He moved his hand down her gently rounded belly, loving every inch of her womanly curves, and brought her to shuddering climax twice more, smiling darkly when she sunk her teeth into his arm. Once her tremors subsided he flipped her over, intent on watching her get off one more time before he buried himself in her and found his own release.
Her eyes fluttered open and she whispered dazedly, “You’re amazing.”
Then she focused her beautiful, almond-shaped eyes on him, and some overwhelming force slammed him in the gut like a one-ton Chevy. He gasped, unable to breathe. Fuck, why couldn’t he breathe?
Half-panicked, Peter shook his head roughly and tried to suck in air. But Leslie just kept looking at him, her eyes swimming with emotions he didn’t want to feel, and he swore when he felt the echo of them inside his own head anyway.
“In me, Peter,” she breathed. “I need to feel you inside me.” Her legs curled around his waist and pulled him to her, the head of his cock rubbing against her slick fold.
“Christ, Leslie,” he groaned and looked down into her stunningly beautiful face. Her eyes were shimmering with wetness, and as he watched one lone tear slipped down her cheek.
It gutted him.
And he went instantly limp. Pushing away from her violently, Peter leapt off the bed, panic and other feelings he couldn’t name pummeling him. He was so overwhelmed by the onslaught that he couldn’t tell one from the other. They came rushing at him so fast. All he knew was that he had to get out of there,
“What is it, Peter?” she asked as she sat up on her elbows, her incredible breasts on full display. Concern cut through her arousal and softened her voice.
But he couldn’t see, couldn’t think.
Ignoring her, he frantically searched for his clothes scattered across the floor. “Nothing.”
Confusion clouded her eyes. “Where are you going? What happened?” And then the words that killed him, “Don’t you want me?”
His throat squeezed shut and he couldn’t speak. So he just stood there like a jackass, staring at her until understanding dawned and her face crumpled.
“You don’t want me.” It was a statement, not a question.
Denial swirled inside him, and though he wanted to say something to reassure her that it wasn’t her, it was him, he couldn’t. So he just shrugged, not knowing what else to do.
She looked him right in the eyes and burst into tears. The hot, raging tears of a person who had reached the brink of what she could handle emotionally. She fell apart in front of him, sobs wracking her chest like they were being torn out of her from some very deep place, and Peter couldn’t handle it. Watching Leslie Cutter lose it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“Leslie,” he said hoarsely, desperately.
But she wasn’t listening. She was curled up in the center of his bed crying harder than any person should ever have to. And seeing her like that made his heart squeeze tight, made him want to go to her and soothe the raging tide of her sorrow.
But he didn’t know how. “Leslie,” he whispered raggedly again.
Her head whipped up, her hair a tangled mess around her anguished face. Bitter eyes stared him down, unblinking. Then she jumped off the bed, grabbed up her clothes, and rounded on him, shaking.
“Fuck you, Peter.”
Without a backward glance she ran from the hotel room.
And she took a part of his heart with her.
PETER KOWALSKIN LOOKED through the peephole in his front door and grinned. Leslie Cutter stood on the other side, her ever-cool exterior two steps away from melting. A frown struggled to form between her perfectly groomed brows and almost succeeded.
Almost. “Open up, Kowalskin.”
His crappy day had suddenly gotten a whole lot better.
A moment ticked by while he considered whether or not to make her suffer a little and work for it. The urge to give her a hard time was almost irresistible. Few things in life were as much fun as ruffling the woman’s feathers.
“I know you’re in there. Are you going to make me wait out here all evening, or are you going to open the door and let me in?” she finished, her voice ripe with irritation.
Just because he could, Peter said loudly so she could hear him through the heavy oak door, “What’s the magic word?”
Her face tightened and her hazel eyes flashed briefly. “Seriously, Peter? How old are you?”
Old enough to know
Through the peephole he watched her roll her eyes and mutter under her breath. Finally she shook her long hair back and tipped her chin, going all haughty. “Fine. At least one of us has the capacity to be mature.
Pete knew she’d rather bite his head off. And it was funny. Damn funny.
Relenting, he opened the door and stepped to the side as he swept an arm wide in invitation, magnanimous as the best of hosts. “Come right on in.”
Scooping up the small leather suitcase by her feet, Leslie held her head high and strode over the threshold. “Thank you.”
The look she shot him was more like “fuck you” and he laughed heartily. “For a woman who’s temporarily homeless and in need of a place to stay, your tone is decidedly ungrateful.”
“I am ungrateful. If you were any sort of a decent landlord then I wouldn’t have a flooded apartment right now. My grandmother’s handmade quilt was destroyed because of your lack of proper plumbing maintenance.” Her lips pressed in a tight line. “Now your butt is stuck with me until everything is fixed.”
He did feel bad about that. That old converted warehouse where she lived had been nothing but a money pit since he’d purchased it a few years back. Maybe it was time to cut his losses and sell it.
Not before he made it right for Leslie, though. “The super has assured me that he’s on top of it.” And he was just going to take Jerry’s word for it, since actual property management was about the last thing he wanted to do.
With a hand at the back of his neck, Peter rubbed at the sudden tension and tossed her a lopsided grin meant to disarm. “If you don’t have rental insurance I’ll cover what’s been damaged. I know it won’t bring back your grandmother’s quilt, but it’s the best I can do.”
Leslie took two steps down into the sunken living room where his iPod was playing music softly in the background and glanced over her shoulder, her sleek sheet of hair whispering across her back with the movement. The hard glint in her eyes seemed to soften a degree. “Thanks anyway, but I’ve got it covered.”
Peter took a good long look at the woman standing in his living room and felt his palms go sweaty. It’s what always happened whenever the two of them were alone and in close proximity. Leslie was the kind of woman who had that effect on people.
“I heard about your breakup with John because of his last-minute trade to the Red Sox. Your little Southern heart couldn’t stand the idea of bedding a Northerner?”
Her chin came up. “Just because you’re from Philadelphia and you think you’re perfect doesn’t make the East Coast utopia, Kowalskin.” A mischievous glint came into her eyes. “My good Southern manners simply keep me from pointing out your delusion.”
Laughter bubbled in his chest and let loose. “Well, thank God for that. I’m not sure my heart could handle the truth.”
