He stood there, at the foot of the bed, beer in hand, and she wished beyond reason that she could send him away, go back to before, when he didn’t know her deepest secret, when he didn’t have her running scared.
“What makes you think I’m not attracted to you?” He walked to her, placing the beer on the bedside table.
“Honestly, Tony, I don’t want to have this conversation. I don’t.”
He sat, narrowly missing her legs still stuffed beneath the covers. “But I do. And you know, making a baby together sort of entitles me to be heard.”
“Then let’s not do it.” She shoved at the covers and wiggled off the opposite side of the bed, fully aware that her bottom half was bare beneath the oversized T while Tony sat guard over her leggings and underwear. “This was a mistake. We have too much in common, like work and Ange. I got caught up in the possibilities and clearly didn’t think it through.” She walked the perimeter of the bed, eyeing her pants.
Tony lifted a foot and dropped it slightly to the left, pinning her clothes beneath his boot. “Fine. We don’t have to make a baby. But if you think for a minute I’m leaving here before I get something in return, you’re crazy.”
She stopped, narrowed her eyes, and punched hands to hips. “Is this another joke?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I think you should lift up the shirt.”
“Excuse me?” Pressure built inside her head, heating her face, and bugging her eyes.
“You’ve been teasing me for two weeks, ever since that birthday party and your comments about the cake.”
“My comments? What comments?”
He flattened his palms against the mattress and leaned back, just a smidge, not enough to free her clothes, but enough for his leather jacket to fall open and his fabulous chest to strain against his shirt. “You know what you said, and you know why you said it.”
She scoffed and wiggled a bit, hoping to shed the shivers from his stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was with Jackson that night.”
“Uh huh.” He smiled. “But you wanted to be with me.”
Trish shut her mouth so hard her teeth chattered. Had she been that transparent? “Tony, stop it. Give me my pants and go.”
“Okay. As soon as you lift the shirt and put me out of my misery.”
She rolled her eyes. These games might work on his usual conquests, but she wasn’t usual, and she wasn’t his conquest. “Never mind. I do own other clothing, you know?” She turned her back on him and walked to her dresser.
Before she could open a drawer, his arm looped around her waist and he spun her to face him while crushing her body against his. “Let’s get something straight.” His mouth hovered inches from the tip of her nose. “Long before you hit me with this crazy plan there was something brewing between us.”
The hint of beer on his breath, the strong arm locked across her back, the heat rising between them. She’d planned for a lot, but she could’ve never planned for this. She blinked, grasping for control of her wayward emotions. “So you admit this plan is crazy.”
He grinned. “Don’t change the subject.” And then he lowered his cheek to hers, smoothing skin to skin until he was nibbling her ear, licking the lobe, drawing it into his mouth, leaving her breathless. “For the record, I am very attracted to you.”
“You are?”
“I am.” He backed her into the dresser, hooking a hand beneath her knee, and hiking her leg along rough denim.
Trish shivered. Something rough and unfiltered stirred in her chest, urging her to drive him back toward the bed and see this thing through.
“Despite what you may have heard, I’m a gentleman,” he continued, adding his trademark grin. “And you asked me to leave. So I’m asking you, is that really what you want, or should I stay and finish this?”
Beneath a hypnosis caused by Tony’s beautiful face—bold black brows, dark chocolate eyes—Trish wanted the baby, but suddenly somehow she wanted the man more. “Stay.” It was a hurried answer made by her overheated body instead of her overused mind.
A second later, his lips met hers, shocking her body with pleasure and giving her mind a much-needed break. It was impossible to think straight while being electrocuted, so she didn’t try. She surrendered to her tingling skin and racing heart, neither of which was necessary to get pregnant. But when his tongue invaded her mouth, making thought soupy and knees weak, she decided the chemistry was a welcomed bonus. At least she wouldn’t have to grin and bear it, not while his fingers crawled along her bare thigh and his mouth dropped to her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut and blocked her nervous chatter, threading fingers through his soft, thick hair, holding his head as he sucked the skin on her throat. Her sigh echoed in the silence. Burying her nose in the blanket of black, she breathed him in and let him consume her.
Just as she managed to fully relax in his arms, he spun her away from the dresser, releasing her onto the bed. Her shirt wound around her waist, and she scrambled to cover. Instinct.
“Too late.” Tony smiled. “I saw what I saw, and I liked it.” His jacket hit the floor. “Your turn.”
“For what?” She gulped to go along with the blush.
“I lost the jacket. You lose the shirt.”
She glanced at her jumbled shirt. “No way. I’m pantless. You’re not. We’re hardly even.”
“Fine.” He unbuttoned his shirt, widening the V at his neck, and then lifted the fabric over his head, pitching it to the floor. “There. You’re bottomless. I’m topless. Call me even.”
She’d call him mouthwatering. Hard and rough. Dark and light. A breathtaking balance of masculine beauty. And then there were the tattoos, strategically peppering his arms and abdomen so she noticed his best places, like his bicep, where the Italian words she’d noticed before looped his muscle, and his forearm, where a large star and rambling vines marred his flawless skin.
But there were unexpected works of art as well, ones he kept hidden beneath T-shirts and faded Oxfords. She eyed the fiery comet covering the uppermost part of his right pec. A tail of orange, red, and blue sprawled over his shoulder and disappeared around his back. She lingered there, noticing how the muscled chord of his neck created a gentle swell at the juncture with his shoulder. Her lips twitched, wanting to taste it. She swallowed too hard, knowing she stared too long.
“When you’re done admiring the goods, you can return the favor.”
She choked down the embarrassment. “Nope. We’re not even until you’re pantless, too.”
He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Well, ditto for your top.”
She would’ve rolled her eyes had they not been busy ogling his chest. And her brain, it cried for sanity. She was slipping further and further away from the simple purity of her plan. Have sex. Make baby. There wasn’t a single bullet note on watching each other undress. All they needed to do was the deed—missionary style—on the right days, and then wait for the positive test result.
But Tony changed the game, didn’t he?
He flicked the button on his jeans and tugged down the zipper, revealing gray boxer briefs. “Come on. Gimme something.”
“Fine.” Which was a complete understatement. She wasn’t fine. She was rolling onto her knees and reaching gingerly under her top to wiggle out of her bra in front of this gut-wrenchingly gorgeous man.
He waggled his brows. “Tricky, but I can see your nipples.”
She slapped her arms around her chest. “You shouldn’t be teasing me now.”
“No?” He walked to the bed until his legs touched the mattress. “Then tell me what I should be doing?”
She would if she could. The problem was, nothing she planned seemed to fit with this man and this moment, meaning she was improvising, something she avoided like horizontal stripes. Improvising led to foolish
