she stirred, looked at him, all big, blue drowsy eyes. Her heart right there in them—longing. His own heart did a weird flip-flop thing. It wasn’t comfortable in the suddenly gaping cavern of his chest. Usually in this situation, when all the blood in his body had rushed south, he’d be on course for some highly satisfactory action. But today, despite the screaming tension from that most masculine part of himself, his brain wouldn’t shut down. Amazingly the clarity of his thoughts was more acute than ever. And all he could think was how lovely she was.
‘I’m really sleepy,’ she said, scratchy-voiced.
‘I’m not going to bed without you.’ He didn’t want to let her go.
‘You’re not going to bed with me.’
He smiled. A kiss and he’d have her mind changed. The glittering look she gave him beneath her lashes let him know she knew it too. But it had hit him hard—he didn’t want to lose her from his life. Not yet. And knowing what he did—of her need for attention, her habit of running from rejection, of her refusal to ever communicate with an ex...not to mention his own dismal track record in maintaining any length of a relationship...
Yeah, now he knew he had to do what she’d asked. Reluctantly. ‘Then I guess I’m not going to bed.’
He sat on the sofa, still holding her in his arms. She was soft and warm. He rested his head on hers.
‘I had a nice night,’ she murmured, settling closer.
So had he. And he was tired and too human to resist the temptation to kiss her again. Her sleepy, soft response deepened. She was deliciously lax in his arms, as if she’d let him do anything. Her breathy moan pretty much confirmed it. But they were friends and while friends kissed, that was all. And frankly? He’d never found kissing so rewarding. Long and luscious, kiss after kiss after way more than friendly kiss.
‘Ruben.’ She sighed.
He knew she was almost asleep, but she was also begging.
‘You could kiss me all kinds of places.’ A butterfly whisper.
Utter temptation. She had him so hard. And that was what she wanted, huh? To have her cake and eat it too. Or, more to the point, have him eat it. He smiled at his sleepy wanton woman and couldn’t help trailing a finger up her thigh.
Just once. Just once he wanted to see her shudder in ecstasy thanks to him. Yeah, he was that selfish. He’d dreamed of it for too long and, breathing in her fresh scent now, there was no resisting. He was touching only a little. Delving into the soft heat. She clenched on him. He rubbed a couple more times and she was there—right there in his arms—vulnerable, beautiful, and, in that moment, completely his. He watched for a moment, but some emotion deep inside drove him to kiss her, to catch the last of her sighs, to inhale her energy.
The ache tearing him apart inside wasn’t purely sexual. The craving ran too deep to be only that—but it was a yearning for something he couldn’t ever admit wanting. So he clamped it—shutting it down, forcing his own need away.
Breathing hard, he looked at her peaceful expression. She was both vulnerable and strong. His sharp clarity returned. He didn’t want her trying to bend into a box to keep any fling with him going. He had no illusions that a fling wouldn’t end. Of course it would. In the past, a woman in a relationship with him soon grew tired—of his long absences due to constant travel, his mental and emotional absences. Ellie would soon get to the point where she’d had enough. She’d get mad and shout how selfish he was. How he didn’t care.
Frankly he didn’t want to care.
But he didn’t want Ellie walking out on him in anger. She recognised his faults already. Knew what would happen. So she was removing that eventuality with immediate effect because she didn’t want to lose touch with him altogether. She didn’t want to disappear in the sunrise as another one-night stand. There was something in him she liked and wanted—other than sex.
And maybe all that was, was his acceptance of everything she was, without question or criticism. And he felt a simple honesty in return—he didn’t want to screw her over. He didn’t want to let her down. That was the last thing she deserved. And the only way he could ensure he wouldn’t was to do as she’d asked.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ELLIE woke in a crumpled but cosy ball. Stretching out of it was the problem, given her muscles were stiffer than they’d been the day before. Half beneath her was Ruben, toppled sideways on the sofa, still in his tux and destined to have a hellish crick in his neck
They’d spent their first almost platonic night together. There’d been that sleepy kissing session and that moment just before she fell so deeply into sleep—the teasing luxury, the supposed relief he’d given her.
But it was no relief at all. It was like having the merest taste of some decadent gateaux that was now locked behind a glass cabinet and for ever out of bounds. All she could do was look at it with longing. Yeah, she wanted to devour the gateaux now—to indulge in every last bit. She could feel his hard length pressed against her thigh. Who was she kidding about the ‘friends’ thing? The desire to have him was too intense. ‘Ruben?’
His eyes opened, his gaze warm and drowsy. Only as he woke he blinked a couple of times and a cool veil slipped down, masking that expression. She didn’t like it.
She shifted her thigh so his thick erection pressed closer into her softness. ‘You failed already.’
He shook his head. ‘You’re the one who got the “benefit” last night.’
‘You teased me into it.’ He was tempting her deliberately again now—wasn’t he?
‘You asked me to kiss you in the most inappropriate places,’ he said softly. ‘I was a complete gentleman.’
‘With your hand in my pants?’
‘You wanted my mouth there,’ he countered. ‘I went with the less intimate option.’
Oh, it was all intimate. Excitement skittered through her. Yes, the friends idea was a failure already...
‘We’d better get going,’ he said crisply, dropping his gaze from hers. He shifted slightly so he was no longer so intimately against her.
She slid off him—withdrawing too, chilling as she realised he wasn’t out to tease her. He really was drawing the line she’d asked him to. ‘You’re so right. We had.’
Ruben drove them to the airport. It wasn’t as foggy as the day before but it was still grey and wet. No doubt the flight would be bumpy. She sighed as they pulled up outside the terminal. The heartfelt sound gave away more than she meant it to.
‘It’ll be no problem,’ he said, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.
‘Of course,’ she said, not believing it at that point in time. ‘I’m off on a four-day tour next week.’
‘I’m heading up to Taupo in the latter half of the week.’
‘So there we go,’ she said breezily, covering the ache of his absence that was already twisting her heart. ‘Physical distance will take care of any last little itch.’
‘Absolutely.’
