Chapter 18
Rooster
Silence fills the space between us, and I can see her actually working through my words in her head.
I don't know if she's judging me, reevaluating her idea of me, or if she's trying to find a way to tempt me into doing something I just said I'm not interested in.
Hell, she could not be interested at all, and the flirting she did was just second nature, and she meant nothing by it.
"Do you find women attractive?" she asks, and the question doesn't make me lean toward one particular explanation.
"Yes," I tell her. "But I can find a woman attractive and not jump her bones."
She huffs a laugh, and it makes me smile. The brightness her joy brings to her eyes makes her even prettier than when she isn't happy, although she's always gorgeous.
I pull my eyes away enough to give her a little privacy to think, but I can still see her out of my peripheral vision.
She chews the inside of her cheek as if trying to figure out what to say next.
Maybe declaring my stance on casual sex was a little premature, but she hasn't stood up and told me to fuck off.
I'm a little shocked that she doesn't see all the possible things that fit between casual sex and marriage. It doesn't have to be balls to the wall with either extreme.
I also get where she may be coming from, as if there's no point in even trying to see where things might go unless both parties want something serious, but that isn't the case either. I just want to be on the same page with a woman before crossing certain lines. If her goal is just to hook up, then I'm not interested. No hard feelings, but we can be in different places in life that make us incompatible.
"Have you considered anything with me?"
It's my turn to chew the inside of my cheek. I never expected her to flat-out ask. I pegged her as the flirty type who uses suggestion and teasing to find her footing in any situation.
I give her a quick glance but look away almost immediately.
"Is this hot tub getting hotter?" I ask, lifting my arms out of the water.
Her laughter is soft, drawing my eyes back to her face because I want to log every single reaction and commit it to memory.
"You're very pretty," I confess, noting how much my heart rate kicks up with the words.
"Thank you," she says, looking as if she wants to pull her gaze away from mine but can't.
I love the idea that she watches me just because she feels like she has to, as if looking anywhere else isn't an option for her.
"Do I turn you on?"
"The reaction in my shorts would say yes," I mutter under my breath, my cock growing even heavier for acknowledging the damn thing.
I watch, mouth hanging open a little so I can breathe better, as her eyes drop to the water in front of me. Of course, she can't see anything, but my body doesn't distinguish the difference.
"Really?" she whispers, inching a little closer to me.
When her hand floats through the water before landing on my thigh, I almost flex my hips to bring her touch exactly where my body needs it the most.
Her tongue sneaks out, tracing her bottom lip, and I swear my mind rushes with the millions of things I would like her to do with that sexy-as-sin mouth of hers.
"Morgan," I whisper, covering her hand with my own, still not having made the decision about what I'll allow her to do with it.
"I've never done anything other than casual hookups," she confesses, making my mind up for me.
"It's okay if you aren't in the same place," I tell her, giving her hand a little squeeze before lifting it off my leg.
My cock all but screams at me that I'm making the wrong decision, but I have more control over myself than saying one thing and then doing the complete opposite. I fight the urge to feel a little heartbroken at knowing she has chosen the seduce-me-because-she-can option.
"Sorry," she whispers.
"It's fine," I tell her, knowing exactly how that sounds. "I mean that, Morgan. It's not a guilt trip."
I stand, needing an escape before I give in, knowing I'll only have regrets if I do. Just like I don't judge her for her choices, I don't want to be judged for mine. I have my limits, and I think I've reached them.
I reach down and adjust myself despite it being right in front of her face. The woman knows I'm attracted to her, so there's no sense in trying to hide how my body responds to her.
"So you just leave?" she asks. Although the words are a little harsh, the tone of her voice isn't annoyed, just curious.
"We can be friends," I say as I step up and out of the hot tub so I can look back in her direction. "But we aren't looking for the same thing."
"Okay," she says, drawing out the second syllable. "We can't be friends with you still in the hot tub?"
I tilt my head a little, giving her a weak smile.
"I have enough experience to know that I've dented your ego a little."
"I can handle rejection, Robert."
"Can you?" I ask with genuine curiosity.
The delay in her response is telling.
"Yes."
I shake my head. "So, if I stay in the hot tub right now, you aren't going to push the issue and try and get me to change my mind?"
She blinks up at me, that slender throat of her working on a swallow.
"I'm a horrible person," she whispers. I know it's a confession that I predicted exactly what would happen.
"Not horrible. Just human. Just like I know if I stay and you try to seduce me, it's going to work."
"I can be good," she says.
"Yet you're talking to my dick right now," I challenge, laughing when her eyes dart from my crotch back up to my face.
"I'm horny," she mutters.
"I am, too," I confess, once again resisting the urge to reach down and squeeze my cock. "But we aren't teenagers, Morgan. We don't have to give in to every single urge that hits us."
"What happens when you go up to your room?" she asks, and I know exactly what she's not saying. "Because I know what I'm going to do when I go back up to mine."
I swear my cock thickens further, and I wouldn't be surprised if precum is leaking from the tip at knowing where her fingers are going to be in a few minutes.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?"
She shakes her head, and I can see the flirtatiousness in the movement. I swear the woman is a seductress, and I know this behavior has worked for her in the past. Hell, it's starting to work on me right now.
If her hands were under the water, giving me the impression that she was touching herself, it would be impossible to walk away.
"This is Vegas. If I just wanted to get laid, I could find a hundred women to scratch that itch," I tell her.
"But they aren't me," she teases.
"Exactly. You're worth more than a quick fuck."
Her face falls. I didn't mean for the words to be an insult, but clearly, she's internalizing them. I'm not trying to devalue her, but I also can't control how she takes my declaration.
"And I'm worth more, too. Have a good night, Morgan."
I walk away because I'm seconds from stepping back into the hot tub and pulling her onto my lap. If that happens, I know I'm going to slip her bathing suit bottoms to the side and pull her right down onto my cock, uncaring about the video footage I'd have to delete later.
It's more than a little painful to walk away from her, but I manage.
I don't go directly to my room because the woman is right. If I head upstairs, I'm going to end up in the shower with my fist wrapped around my dick. It kills me to know that she'll be taking care of herself later already. I grab a towel in the den and head to my office.
There's always some work to be done, and I can distract myself long enough to get my body back under control.
Of course, I pull up the video feed to check on Morgan, not knowing how to feel when I see nothing but her wet footprints on the concrete leading to the back door of the house. It tells me she has already gone inside.
I fight the urge to rewind the feed and watch her walk into the house. As much as I'm struggling right now, it feels like a win.
I check the programs I have running, hating that I haven't found a damn thing on my brother. Then I spend the next two hours just sitting there, tapping my fingers on my desk because there's no way I can go upstairs.
My mind is already torn between going up to my room to fuck my fist and knocking on her door, forcing her to her knees, and feeding her my cock for tempting me in the first place.
Decisions, decisions.