Tangling With Ty

“Who said anything about work?”

“You- I-”

“There you go stuttering again.” He set her down but didn’t take his hands off her. “I’m beginning to think you only do that around me, and you know what? I like it. But let’s stick to the subject. I want to set the record straight between us.”

“Oh.” Her face cleared of all expression. She was good at that, he’d noticed, but then again, so was he.

“I see,” she said stiffly.

“I doubt it.”

“No, I do. You regret what happened between us.”

“Is that what you think?” He tipped up her face and saw that was exactly what she thought. “Is that why you left my bed?”

“Don’t tell me you wanted to wake up with me.” She pulled her chin free of his fingers. “I saw the look in your eyes before you fell asleep. Panic, pure and simple.”

“What you saw was fleeting.”

“Because you fell asleep.” She closed her eyes.

“And I didn’t blame you for it, so don’t worry. I’m not the kind of woman a man wants to wake up with.”

He swore, then shoved his fingers through his hair and turned in a slow circle, trying to find the words. “Nicole, you’re exactly the kind of woman a man wants to wake up with. You’re smart, and sexy as hell. You’re amazing. But I was lying there, holding you, still shaking like a leaf, damn it, from the most incredible…” He let out a disparaging sound, having no idea how to say it. “Look, what we shared was different. First of all, I’ve never come so hard in my life.”

She blushed, her expression one of surprise.

“But it wasn’t just sex,” he said. “I know that sounds like a line, but it wasn’t. What we shared was a connection, a real one, and yes, damn it, it scared the living daylights out of me.”

She was very still. “Go on.”

Go on. Hell. He licked his suddenly dry lips. “I felt closer to you than I have to anyone. Ever.”

The fist around her heart, the one that had been there since she’d first set eyes on him, loosened slightly. “Really?”

“I felt like you knew me.”

A warmth spread through her. “I did. I do. Ty, I do.”

“No.” Now he closed his eyes. “You don’t understand.” He turned away, his shoulders stiff. “I came from nothing, Nicole. I was nothing.”

“No, never that.” Her heart ached that he pictured himself that way.

“You have no idea some of the things I did to survive.”

“No one would ever blame the child you were,” she said fiercely. “No one. And you shouldn’t either.”

“I know.” Misery radiated off him, so that she was propelled forward, propelled to put her hand on his back. His muscles leapt at her touch.

“But I’m still that boy deep inside,” he admitted. “I’m still that wanderer. I still feel that need to keep moving. I…I started to feel that need again.”

Now her heart all but stopped as he turned back to look at her.

“You…you’re moving on?” she asked.

“I’ve thought about it. Then I heard from my sister and I really thought about it.” There was nothing but truth in his eyes, the man who’d taught her the one thing no one else had ever managed, how to live outside the box. He was strong and smart and made her smile. He was passionate about work, about life, about everything in between. And unlike anyone before him, he made her feel the same way back.

“It’d be so easy,” he said. “Easy to pick up and go start over.” He lifted a shoulder. “New York sounded good.”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat because it was so thick. He’d thought about leaving, walking away. “Ty…” Don’t. Don’t go.

Reaching out, he ran his fingers over her jaw. Slid them down her throat and cupped the back of her head, tugging her a step closer. Mouth close to hers, his turned down in a grim, unbearably sad smile, he said, “But then I met you.”

He still looked so utterly intent on going that there was no logical reason why hope suddenly burned through her bright as the sun. “And…?”

“And…for the first time I wanted someone to know about me, know my past. Accept it. We know we’re different, Nicole. That I-”

She stopped him with her mouth on his. She knew his past shamed him. Just as she knew the man he really was, a man with a heart and soul dying for acceptance and love, just like anyone else. He could hold people off with his easy charm and laid-back attitude, but he couldn’t hold her off, not for another second.

He tried. Despite her mouth clinging to his, despite her arms wound around his neck, he hadn’t touched her, not yet, so she pulled back and held his face in her hands. “Please want me, too, Ty, if only half as much as I want you.”

“Half?” He let out a half growl, half laugh. “Half. Hell…”

“It’s okay, I-”

“I want you more than my next breath, damn it.” His arms came around her hard, lifting her up against him. “But you’re supposed to know what’s good for you. Nicole, you’re supposed to send me away. You’re supposed to stay away from me.”

“I won’t. I can’t.”

“Well, then God help the both of us.” His mouth came down on hers again, but he shocked her with unexpected tenderness, with an irresistible gentleness, coaxing and nibbling her into a hunger only he could sate.

As if she needed coaxing. After a long, wet, hot kiss, he lifted his head and stared at her. The hunger must have been all over her face because he groaned, and then his mouth slashed across hers again, and this time when they tore apart for air, they stared wild and wide-eyed at each other.

“Not here,” she said breathlessly, staggering when he pulled back. “My bed.”

“Nicole-”

“My bed,” she repeated, and grabbed his hand, tugging him toward her bedroom before he could come to his senses and say goodbye. She didn’t want goodbyes, and she was banking on the hope he didn’t really want them either.

It was late and the room was dark. She flipped on the light switch, then hesitated. Maybe she should leave them in the dark, give them some place to hide.

No. No, she thought, turning back to him as she pulled her shirt over her head and watched his gaze flare with unchecked desire. She wanted to see him want her. Wanted to capture that and save it. Store it in a part of her heart to pull out when she needed.

After he was gone.

“Nicole-”

She wanted to cry at the rough, low voice, tinged with regret. He wasn’t going to change his mind, not now, he couldn’t. She unbuttoned her jeans and he swallowed hard.

“Wait, I-” His words broke off into a rough groan when she shoved the jeans down her hips and kicked them free, leaving her in a siren-red lace bra and a sunshine-yellow silk thong. Laundry day, damn it. She never matched for him. But she couldn’t worry about that now. To make sure he saw her, all of her, she turned in a slow circle, running her hands down her own body.

When she turned back to him, he was suddenly right there, so close she bumped into his chest. “Not fair,” he whispered.

“What’s not fair is that you haven’t started.” She tugged on his shirt. He raised his arms so that she could pull it off and toss it over her shoulder. The bruises on his ribs made her physically ache for him. “Are you okay?”

“Right now I am. I love your color choices today.”

She grimaced. “One of these days I’ll get it together and pay attention in the morning.”

“No, I like it. Tough, cool tomboy on the outside, thoroughly unorganized siren on the inside.” His palms slid up