Page 82 of Just One Look

“Not even close,” he said. That had come out clipped. She glanced at him. His jaw was tight, and even his shadow of beard looked darker. He went on, “This your normal conversational style with men? You tell a fella he’s not earning enough at his job—his self-destructive job, which would have a point if he were running into burning buildings to save people, but not so much when he’s running to stop somebody else from scoring—and that he won’t be earning even that for long? And assume he’s never contemplated that for himself, so it’d be good if you pointed it out?”

* * *

They wereat his car again. He should climb in there and leave. What did he think he was doing here? He didn’t need to be judged again. He didn’t need to hear that he wasn’t worth taking seriously.

She stood still a minute, breathing hard, dark strands of hair whipped around her head, and he forgot that he should leave. He couldn’t have said how he felt. He couldn’t even have come close. She said, “Well, obviously, that was exactly wrong. I went to my default. I’m not good at emotional conversations, and I’m also not good with hot guys that make me flustered. Obviously, because this is bad even for me, so that’s because of you, and your … your arms. Your affect. The impression you give. I’m just … my amygdala disables my frontal lobe, to put it in layman’s terms. I’m not making a logical choice of response. But that’s me, right? That’s me. How do I … how do I not apologize for myself, and still apologize? How do I get back? I don’t know how todothis!”

Her hand was in her hair, the scent of her perfume wafting over to him now that her body was warm.

He didn’t know which part of his brain was working. It didn’t feel like his brain was involved at all. He took a step and got one hand behind her head, threading through the strands of dark hair, while the other hand tilted her face up for him. He saw her eyes open wide, and the desire leaped in him like she’d turned up the flame.

As soon as his lips touched hers, he stopped thinking about his brain. Her skin was warm and damp, and his hand wasn’t on her face now. It was on her lower back, pulling her in, kissing her the way he needed to. She drew in her breath in surprise, and her hand went to his shoulder and shoved against it hard enough that he started to pull back. And then her arm was around his neck, and he was kissing her hot and deep, her head in his palm, his hand on the small of her back, just above the swell of her bum.

He’d pulled up the duvet and left her there last night, when she was warm and naked and so curvy. Now, though, his fingers were spreading to feel more of her, his mouth was at her neck, his head was full of that soft, sweet scent, and she was grabbing his shoulder and trembling a little and not saying a word.

The sticky tires-on-asphalt soundof a car rolling past, then the hoot of a horn. Oh. They were in the street. He stopped kissing her neck, but then she opened those deep blue eyes and stared at him, and he nearly lost it again. A drop of rain on his hair, then more, and the heavens opened up.

He grabbed the door handle, flung it wide, and pulled her into the car.

* * *

She was half-soaked and shivering,and his skin, the fabric of his shirt were cool under her hands. The rain was pounding, driving like bullets into the hood of the car, the roof over their heads, nearly rocking them. It was frightening. It was exhilarating. It was carrying her away. He was halfway over her, his mouth on hers, his hand around the back of her neck, and she had her hand, somehow, under his T-shirt, splayed over the ridged texture of his midriff and moving up.

Her head against the window, so the pounding rain was all but in her body, while her legs stretched out toward the center console. He was all the way across the driver’s seat, and his hand was underhershirt now, too. Not bothering to feel his way. Pulling her shirt straight up.

His mouth moved across her cheek, and he was kissing her neck again. His hand was on her breast, then inside her bra, and the cold of it, the urgency in his touch, were a shock. She shuddered, gasped, threaded her hand through his hair, and held him to her.

And then he moved his head lower and jerked against her, and she was jolted right back into reality.