Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
W hen Michael woke up the next morning, the first thing he became aware of was the lush, silky warmth of Reese’s body curved snugly against his, as if they were interlocked pieces of a puzzle. A perfect fit.
As he came more fully awake, he made another stunning discovery.
He was in the same spot he’d been in when he’d drifted off to sleep after making love to Reese last night. The exact same spot. He knew because the covers weren’t twisted around his legs or hanging off the bed, as he usually found them in the mornings. No, they were still resting at his waist, undisturbed. Which could only mean one thing.
He hadn’t moved all night.
But that’s impossible , his mind rebelled.
For as long as Michael could remember, he’d always been a fitful sleeper. His mother used to tell him that as a newborn, the only way she could get him to sleep for a few hours was to keep him latched onto her breast. The moment she stopped feeding him, he’d wriggle himself right awake. As he grew older, his parents often entered his room to find him huddled in the middle of the bed and shivering in his sleep because he’d kicked the covers off.
Over the years he’d lost count of how many women had accused him of retreating to his side of the bed and not snuggling with them during the night. He’d grown so tired of hearing the same complaint that he’d stopped spending the night with his lovers, getting up and leaving them shortly after sex. Sure, it made him seem callous and selfish, but he figured that was the best way to spare their feelings in the long run.
He wasn’t a sound sleeper. Never would be. So spooning a woman during the night was out of the question.
Yet there he was spooning Reese. And, apparently, he’d done it all night.
I’ll be damned , Michael thought, shaken by the discovery.
It was just one more example of the way Reese was turning his world upside down. Before meeting her, he’d had absolutely no concept of what it meant to be obsessed with a woman, to crave her so badly that damn near every waking thought was consumed with her. But over the past week he’d received a crash course in blind obsession, and he was proving to be quite the apt pupil.
As vivid memories from last night flooded his mind, he couldn’t keep a slow, wolfish smile off his face. After their explosive interlude at the restaurant—would he ever see his precious kitchen the same way again?—he’d somehow convinced Reese to spend the night with him. Though she’d seemed a bit subdued on the ride to his penthouse, once he took her in his arms again, she’d surrendered with the same desperate abandon as before. They hadn’t even made it upstairs to his bedroom before he’d had her long legs wrapped tight around him, her nails digging into his back as he thrust into her, taking her against the wall. He’d made love to her over and over again throughout the night. He was insatiable, couldn’t get enough of her.
As if to demonstrate, his dick hardened in response to the lush swell of her ass nestled against his lap. He grinned, already contemplating several creative ways he could wake her up—all involving the use of his hands, lips and tongue.
But as he edged even closer to her, Reese suddenly tensed and shifted away from him.
His grin faded. Was she already awake?
Propping himself up on one elbow, he peered down into her face. Sure enough, her eyes were open as she stared straight ahead.
He leaned down and pressed an openmouthed kiss to her silky bare shoulder. A fine tremor passed through her, and her long lashes fluttered. He felt a glimmer of hope.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
She didn’t turn to look at him. “Good morning.”
“Did you sleep well?”
She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
“I did, too. Slept like a baby, in fact.” It was true. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever enjoyed such a deep, satiated slumber. And he’d awakened feeling refreshed and blissfully content. He could definitely get used to more mornings like this.
Provided he got the opportunity.
Smiling down at Reese, he gently combed his fingers through the thick, lustrous strands of black hair fanned out across her pillow. She closed her eyes, but not in languid pleasure. She looked strained, as if she were waging an internal battle.
He found himself holding his breath, wondering which side would win.
A long, nerve-racking silence stretched between them.
When Michael couldn’t take it anymore, he decided his only option was to tackle the unwelcome elephant in the room.
“You’re having second thoughts about last night.”
Reese’s eyes opened. She hesitated, then nodded tightly. “It was a mistake.”
Anger flared inside his chest. “It sure as hell didn’t feel like a mistake.”
It was the wrong thing to say, the wrong approach to use.
She scooted away from him and sat up quickly, clutching the sheet protectively to her chest. Her cheeks were still flushed from hours of savage lovemaking, her lips were still swollen from hard kissing, her hair was tousled about her face and shoulders, and beneath the sheet, her luscious breasts beckoned to him.
She was unbelievably beautiful.
And too damn tempting for her own good.
Michael reached for her. “Reese?—”
She moved away from him.
“Shit.” He fell back against his stack of pillows and blew out a harsh, frustrated breath. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. He’d been looking forward to spending a few more pleasurable hours in bed with her. And then he’d imagined them cooking breakfast together, divvying up the tasks, making a silly game of “accidentally” bumping into each other as they worked side by side. He’d envisioned them laughing, teasing, stealing hot little kisses as they carried their plates out to the balcony to enjoy the scenic view.
But maybe his expectations had been as unrealistic as those of the women who’d wanted him to cuddle during the night.
Exhaling a shaky breath, Reese dragged a hand through her hair. “You should probably take me home now.”
“ No . Not yet.” Michael was surprised—and slightly appalled—by the note of desperation he heard in his voice. What the hell was wrong with him? Since when did he beg a woman to stay after sex?
Reese looked at him, those dark cat eyes roving across his face in silent appraisal. She seemed to be taking his measure, weighing an important decision in her mind.
He stared back at her, waiting.
After a prolonged moment, she glanced away and shook her head. “I owe you an apology.”
Of all the things he’d expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them. He stared at her in surprise. “What do you have to apologize for?” he asked carefully.
She tugged her plump lower lip through her teeth. “I haven’t been myself lately,” she confessed.
“Who have you been?”
“A woman who doesn’t know what she wants. A confused, indecisive woman.” She grimaced. “The kind of woman I’ve always disliked and strived not to be.”
Intrigued by the self-deprecating words, Michael shifted onto his side to face her, propping his head in his hand. “Why don’t you know what you want?” he asked quietly.
She sighed heavily. “It’s complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Believe me, I wish that were true.” She heaved another resigned breath. “Anyway, the reason I owe you an apology is that I’ve been giving you mixed signals since the night we met. I say one thing and do the complete opposite. Spending the night with you was the behemoth of all mixed signals.”
“You don’t hear me complaining,” Michael drawled .
“Of course not,” she muttered, throwing him a sardonic look. “You’ve been a willing accomplice.”
He cocked a brow. “Accomplice? Have we committed a crime here?”
“I almost wish we had,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.
Michael pretended to take umbrage. “I think you’re the first woman who’s ever told me that committing a crime would be preferable to making love with me. There goes my ego.”
A muffled laugh escaped her. “Oh, hush. You know what I meant.”
He smiled lazily.
Uncovering her face, she shot him a shy glance under her lashes. “Don’t get me wrong, Michael. Last night was amazing?—”
“That doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
She blushed deeply, averting her gaze. “You’re right. Amazing doesn’t do justice to what we shared last night. It was…unforgettable. But that doesn’t change the fact that it was a mistake.”
His breath hissed through his teeth. “Here we go again. The damn boyfriend.”
“Yes!” she burst out, her dark eyes snapping angrily. “I have a boyfriend, a fact that you seem unwilling or incapable of respecting.”
Michael flinched. Her words had struck a raw nerve, forcing him to acknowledge how easily he’d abandoned his long-held convictions. Maybe he and Grant Rutherford were more alike than he’d thought. Like his stepfather, Michael had pursued and seduced Reese, flagrantly disregarding the other man in her life. Although the obvious difference here was that Reese wasn’t married with children, his behavior was still deplorable by his own standards.
Agitated, he scrubbed his hands over his face and muttered a vicious oath under his breath.
Reese moved to slide out of the bed. “I really should?—”
Michael’s arm shot out, forestalling her retreat with a hand on her thigh. Beneath the covers, she quivered at his touch.
“Wait,” he growled, sitting up quickly. “You don’t have to leave. Let’s talk about this, damn it. How serious is this thing between you and that dude?”
Jerking her leg out of his grasp, she snapped, “I’m not going to discuss my relationship with you.”
That was probably for the best, Michael mused grimly. The thought of her being with another man—giving herself to him with the same passion and abandon with which she’d surrendered to Michael—filled him with a possessive fury that was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.
Yeah, he definitely didn’t need to know the specific details of her relationship with what’s-his-face. Still, he couldn’t resist demanding, “Are you guys fighting or what? I mean, he sent you two dozen roses and asked you to come back to him.”
“So you did read the card,” Reese pounced accusingly. “I knew it. You had no right!”
Michael scowled. “It fell on the floor. It’s not as if I went digging through the box to find it.”
“You could have handed it to me without reading it!”
“I could have, but I didn’t. Anyway, that’s not the point. I asked you a question. Are you and Victor having problems? Are you breaking up with him?”
“I don’t know!” she burst out in helpless frustration.
Disappointment knifed through Michael. He held her flashing gaze a moment longer, then eased back against his pillows and folded his arms behind his head, a deceptively relaxed pose.
Silence lapsed between them. This time he wouldn’t be the one to break it.
And he wasn’t.
“I’m not a cheater.”
Michael turned his head on the pillow to look at Reese. She’d spoken so softly he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “What did you say?”
“I’m not a cheater.” A wry, humorless smile turned up one side of her mouth. “I know that sounds hard to believe under the present circumstances, but I generally pride myself on being faithful.”
She sounded so forlorn that Michael felt a twinge of sympathy—and guilt. “We can’t always control who we’re attracted to, sweetheart,” he murmured.
Her lips twisted cynically. “That’s such a typical male thing to say. How many poor women have you fed that line?”
He bristled. “It’s not a line. It’s the damn truth.”
“Right.” Still clutching the sheet to her body, she drew her knees up to her chest, as if she needed another barrier between them. Suddenly she looked very small and vulnerable in the enormous bed .
A surge of protective tenderness rushed through him. “Did someone cheat on you, Reese?”
Something flickered in her eyes before she looked away. “I don’t need firsthand experience to know that cheating is wrong.”
Michael studied her. He knew there was more.
“But, yes,” she said in a low voice, “I have been cheated on.”
Michael’s jaw clenched and every muscle in his body tightened. “What bastard hurt you?”
“My fiancé.”
“You were engaged?”
He watched her throat work with a hard swallow as she nodded. “Four years ago. He was the son of an old family friend. We’d known each other since childhood and seemed like a good fit. That is, until he slept with his paralegal.”
Michael stared at her. He felt violent, his palms itching to inflict pain on the faceless motherfucker who’d hurt and betrayed her.
“Anyway, it was for the best. He clearly wasn’t right for me. Truth be told, I loved the idea of being engaged more than I loved the actual man I was engaged to.” She shook her head at the ceiling, her lips twisting sardonically. “He’d call me a hypocrite if he could see me now.”
Michael frowned, hating the recrimination in her voice. “Are you and Victor on a break? Because if you are, you’re not cheating.”
She wouldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t give him an answer. She didn’t want him getting a foot in the door. Didn’t want to let in the big bad wolf.
Her silence confirmed he was on the right track. “When couples take a break, it’s because their relationship has taken a wrong turn somewhere. You take a break to reassess things, to figure out if your problems can be fixed or not. During your separation, it’s generally understood that you’re a free agent.” Michael watched her reaction to his words, the way her sooty lashes flickered as she looked down, the way she scraped her teeth against her bottom lip.
He pressed his advantage, keeping his tone low and measured. “You’re not cheating, Reese. You’re exploring your options.”
That wrung a grim laugh out of her. “Let’s not kid ourselves, Michael. As unforgettable as last night was, we both know it was nothing more than a one-night stand. ”
“You’re wrong,” he said mildly. “By its very definition, the term ‘one-night stand’ could never apply to us.”
“And why is that?” she challenged.
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a silky murmur. “Because I intend to have you again. And again. And again .”
Her breath hitched, and he watched in pure satisfaction as her dark gaze went to his mouth, then roamed across his bare chest before lowering to where his erection tented the covers at his waist.
Heat flared in her eyes. Above the top edge of the sheet, her breasts heaved as she struggled to regulate her erratic breathing.
“No, Michael,” she whispered.
“ Yes , Reese.”
Their gazes held for another long, sexually charged moment before she looked away, expelling a shaky breath.
“This is ridiculous,” she mumbled. “You’re not listening to me. I just explained to you why this was a mistake, and why it can’t happen again.”
“And I’m telling you that it can, and it will.”
“What’s the point?” she burst out in exasperation. “You and I both know this isn’t leading anywhere! In less than two months I’ll be back in Houston, and you’ll be back to enjoying your status as one of the country’s most eligible bachelors. Why ruin lives over what essentially amounts to a summer fling?”
“This ain’t no damn summer fling,” Michael snarled, incensed by her repeated attempts to trivialize what may have been the most spectacular night of his life.
“Oh, come on, Michael,” she scoffed. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? I mean, you’re Michael freaking Wolf . You can have any woman you want, whenever you want, wherever you?—”
Something snapped inside him, and he exploded, “I don’t want just any woman! I want you! ”
Reese stared at him, her eyes wide with stunned disbelief.
He glared back at her, his jaw tightly clenched as he fought for self-control. His heart was hammering against his ribs, and his entire body was vibrating with the fierce, overpowering urge to pin her to the mattress and make love to her in a way that would leave no doubt in her mind that she belonged to him. Because she did. She totally fucking did .
“Oh my.” Reese bit her lip, shaking her head slowly at him. “You really are going to make me fall in love with you, aren’t you?”
Michael’s pulse thudded. An emotion suspiciously akin to hope sprang to life in his chest. And then he saw a trace of humor glittering in her eyes.
“What’s so damn funny?” he snapped.
“You. Me. Us .” She sighed, shaking her head again. “The truth is, Michael, I’ve been halfway in love with you for the past three years. My family, friends and colleagues tease me constantly about having a major crush on you. It’s so bad they’ve even taken to calling you my fantasy boyfriend.”
Michael wasn’t amused. “So what’re you saying? Last night was about you living out some sort of fantasy?”
She sighed. “You have no reason to be offended. What we shared last night far exceeded my fantasies, and I didn’t think that was even possible. But just because you completely rocked my world doesn’t mean I foolishly expect you to become my boyfriend.”
“And why the hell not?” Michael growled. “What would be so damn crazy about that?”
She gave him a wryly amused look. “C’mon, Michael. You’re not real -boyfriend material. You’re fantasy -boyfriend material. You’re that smokin’ hot guy every girl fantasizes about. The guy who, though you know he’s totally unattainable, you’d jump at the chance to spend one wild night of sex with. And then years down the line—long after you’d settled into a comfortable life with the safe, sweet, reliable man you ended up marrying—you’d indulge in a moment of girlish whim and tell your daughters all about that one reckless night of passion you had with your fantasy lover.” She smiled demurely. “I’m very lucky. Not every woman gets such an opportunity.”
Michael glowered at her, seething with anger and something darker, something infinitely more dangerous. Something that made his heart ache with raw, primal yearning.
Reese’s smile wavered. “Uh, Michael?—?”
He lunged for her.
She let out a squeak and scuttled back against the headboard, slapping her palm against his chest to stop him in his tracks.
“Who’s Shauna?” she demanded.
His eyes narrowed to a squint. “Who? ”
“Last night when we stopped for gas, a woman texted you. Your phone was lying on the console, so I saw her name on the screen.” A pulse jumped in her throat, betraying her agitation. “Who’s Shauna, Michael?”
So that was why she’d been subdued on the way home.
“She’s not important,” he muttered. “Just someone I hooked up with a few times.”
A faint smirk touched Reese’s lips. “Like I said. Fantasy boyfriend.”
Michael glared down at her, his jaw clenched so hard it was a miracle his teeth didn’t shatter. His heart was thumping like a machine out of control, and he wanted to kiss her so badly it was an acute physical ache.
Her warm hand flexed against his chest, right over his jackhammering heart. He saw her pupils dilate, her nostrils flaring slightly. She kept her gaze locked on his until finally, unable to resist, she lowered her eyes to his mouth.
Blood rushed straight to his groin.
“ Reese ,” he growled just as a phone suddenly rang, intruding like the blast of an explosion in the room.
Reese scrambled to the other side of the bed, looking as relieved as a little doe that had narrowly escaped the clutches of a savage predator.
Scowling, Michael watched as she reached over the bed, grabbed her phone out of her handbag—when the hell had she brought that upstairs?—and answered in a breathless rush, “Hello?” Pause. “Yes, this is Reese St. James.”
The sheet had become dislodged in her mad scramble to reach the phone. Michael stared, his dick twitching at the sight of her big breasts crowned with berry-dark nipples. He remembered the delicious weight of them in his hands. Remembered the way they’d swelled beneath the hungry lash of his tongue, the way they’d bounced and jiggled as he drove into her.
He reached down to stroke his erection before he caught himself.
Reese listened into the phone for a moment. “Sure. I’ll hold.” Her eyes lifted to Michael’s. “It’s—” She broke off at the arrested look on his face. Following the direction of his gaze, she frowned and snatched the sheet back over her tits.
Michael felt a sharp pang of regret—and annoyance. Who the hell was calling her this early in the morning? It’d better not be her damn boyfriend!
“Who’s that?” he demanded.
Her eyes narrowed at his jealous, possessive tone. She pressed the mute button on her phone and said coolly, “It’s Drew’s assistant. They want me to come down to the studio today for an orientation session, and she also wanted to remind me that you and I are supposed to be shooting our promo spot on Monday.”
“I don’t need a damn reminder.” Leaning back against the headboard, Michael gestured impatiently at the phone. “Why are you on hold?”
“She’s double-checking some details with the production crew.” Reese clutched the sheet tighter to her chest, pinning him with a hostile glare. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get dressed.”
“Knock yourself out,” he muttered, waving in the general vicinity of the master bathroom.
“My clothes are downstairs,” she reminded him.
“So go get them,” he retorted, defiantly rebelling against every gentlemanly instinct that had been instilled in him from the time he could walk.
He could almost hear Reese gnashing her teeth. “I’m on the phone,” she said tersely. “And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not wander around your penthouse butt naked. Especially with all these damn windows.”
“We’re on the fortieth floor. No one can see you.”
Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “I’m asking nicely.”
“You don’t sound very nice to me.”
“ Pretty please! ” she snapped.
Heaving an impatient breath, Michael flung back the covers and swung out of the bed. To demonstrate to Reese that they were safe from the prying eyes of voyeurs, he stalked across the master suite and stood before the wall of windows, just as bold and naked as he pleased.
“See,” he said, turning back toward the bed. “It’s all g?—”
The rest of the words died on his lips.
Eyes filled with raw, naked hunger stared back at him.
His body reacted with a sharp jolt of lust that sizzled through his veins and rushed straight to his groin. His erection, which had taunted him all morning, now hardened into full-blown arousal, stretching up to bob against his stomach.
Reese was utterly riveted.
Driven by some perverse impulse, Michael ran his hand slowly down his abs and trailed his fingertips along his rock-hard length. Inwardly he smiled at the soft gasp that came from across the room .
Without looking at Reese, he wrapped his fingers around his dick and gave himself a long, stroking caress. Up and down, slowly, provocatively. He licked his bottom lip and let his eyes drift closed, as if he was so caught up in pleasuring himself that he’d completely forgotten he had an audience. A very captive audience, judging by the sound of Reese’s shallow breathing.
Not that he was entirely immune to the eroticism of being watched by her. As he slowly pumped himself, he pretended it was her hand sliding along his shaft like she’d done last night. Stroking, caressing, driving him insane with lust. He got so turned on by the explicit images that a pearly bead of precum seeped out of his cock and pooled at the tip, adding to the realism of his little “performance.”
When he finally stole a peek at Reese, her eyes were heavy lidded and glazed with need, her lips parted on a soundless moan. He felt a surge of wicked triumph tempered only by his own mounting arousal.
Giving her a lazy smile, he left the windows and began sauntering from the room, his dick slapping against his thighs.
“Y-yes, I’m still here,” he heard Reese croak into the phone.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her reach beneath the covers to touch herself. As she closed her eyes and released a shuddering breath, he grinned with satisfaction.
Maybe being a fantasy boyfriend wasn’t such a bad thing after all.