Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
B utch backs me into a corner as the elevator rises toward my floor. “I remember exactly what was on my mind our first time in an elevator,” he murmurs. His tone heats my blood to a rolling boil.
“Which was?” I whisper.
“Exploring every inch of you.” He presses closer, tilting my face up to meet his. “And that I was one lucky sonofabitch.” Our mouths crash together, opening so our tongues can swirl and dance.
I’m weak-kneed and breathless when the elevator lurches to a halt and dings. He tugs my hand and leads me down the hall. Once inside, his imposing frame dwarfs my tiny studio.
Tossing my keys and purse onto the small dining table, I hurriedly shrug off my coat. “Want a drink or something?”
“Or something,” he agrees, eyes fixated on me.
I gulp. My bed beckons, blatantly obvious in my one-room apartment. In seconds, he’s got me flat against it, and we scramble to discard our clothing while only minimally breaking contact.
Our hands and lips and tongues rove everywhere, hard meeting soft, emerald and amber colliding, harsh breaths and low moans between us. Our bodies move in tandem, familiar yet strange, exploring, wanting, greedy, needy.
A sheen of sweat coats our skin as we come down from another ridiculously earth-shattering round. This shouldn’t be so easy. So right . We hardly know each other.
Butch slowly withdraws, and our uncoupling leaves me bereft. His long arm snags the towel waiting on the bedside table, and he gingerly soaks up the residual evidence of our latest orgasms. Me first.
Engrossed in his task—one he’s clearly enjoying—he murmurs, “I like how you trim this.”
I shift onto my elbows. “What do you mean?”
His gaze remains focused. “Like a heart.”
“Um, I don’t do any . . . grooming . . . there.”
“Huh. Your pubes are heart-shaped,” he says, tracing the outline with reverence.
This is news to me and now I want to see for myself.
“It even swirls in the middle and leads right to this delicious entryway.” His fingers follow, and command central perks up even though she’s satiated. Or maybe she never will be with Mr. Sex God around.
“I don’t have much experience with what other girls look like down there.”
His head tilts. “Yours is . . . dainty. And fucking perfect.”
Although he seems reluctant to leave my pubic region, he inches alongside me and props himself on one elbow. The fingers of his free hand thread through mine. Our gazes lock, and it’s almost too intimate.
“I like you, Sundance.” It sounds like a confession.
My lips lift. “I like you too, Butch.”
“I haven’t liked anyone in a long time,” he admits.
“You’ve been burned.” It’s a statement. I recognize fellow burn victims well after the fire.
He nods, raking his top lip between his teeth. “It’s hard for me to trust women.”
Butch, we’re parking our cars in the same garage. “It’s hard for me to trust men.”
“Guess we make a hell of a pair then.” He smiles ruefully, squeezing my hand before exhaling a prolonged sigh. “Here’s the deal. My life is complicated, my time scarce, and we’re separated by enough distance to make this difficult. But I want to know you better.”
I’m guarding my own castle and can’t fault him for guarding his. I’m neither ready nor looking for a serious relationship, and yet our attraction is undeniable. “I’d like that too.”
Butch pulls me in and wraps his arms around me. “So, we’ll take it slow.”
“Slow,” I repeat.
“Even though we’ve already done dirty deeds.”
I laugh. “Even though.”
“To clarify, I’m not done with dirty deeds.” He languidly strokes the planes of my back and over my ass.
“I hope not.”
“This is new territory for me,” he murmurs. “I want to let you into my life. There are things you need to know about me. Things that might make you run the other direction. I need to trust you first, and the only way to do that is time.”
Can I ever tell him about Mick, Remy, and me? Should I? “And if I run away?”
Butch pulls back, his gaze pinning mine. “I’ll chase you down and haul your pretty ass back into my bed anyway.”
I bark out a laugh then ponder it. “That sounds kind of…hot.” I doubt he’s serious, but I like the idea of a man who would do anything to keep me. Or at least try. I don’t want to think too hard about why.
“Yeah? I would live to fulfill your fantasies.”
All body parts reawaken, standing at attention. “Really? ”
His eyes gleam, expression rapt. “Mm-hmm. And judging by the flush of your pretty cheeks, something tells me you’re into it.”
Judging by his newly sprung boner, something tells me he’s ready to start now.
I’m a definite yes. Those Mick and Remy sandwiches were the stuff of fantasies, the kind I never knew I harbored, showing me an adventurousness that surprised me in the best way.
Those two awakened my sexuality—then fed it—but I’m thirsty to explore it further.
Something I’m just, this very minute, realizing.
I flash him a mischievous smile in answer.
He caresses my jawline, his thumb grazing my lips as he studies my face. “You’re rocking my fucking world.”
And you’re rocking mine.