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And it had gotten better. Most of the time, other than a few twitches in his gut, he’d learned how to deal.
But he just wasn’t certain if he was ready to handle it for both faces he seemed to be wearing these days. Especially not yet. He was just now learning how to function in this world again. He didn’t need to juggle more on top.
“How did you get started writing them anyway?” Ressa asked. “I mean, Absence is a huge leap away from Exposing the Geek Billionaire.”
There were still shadows in her eyes. He wanted to carry her up to his bedroom and hold her until she slept—okay, other things first—but she needed sleep.
“Well.” He settled on the foot of the lounger and caught her hand. Her nails were wicked red, a slim ring of twisted copper on her right middle finger. He wished he could draw worth a damn, because he loved her hands. Elegant and beautiful and strong.
Aware she was still watching him, he finally looked up and met her eyes. “It was Aliesha,” he said. “She kept pushing at me to do it. After she died, I couldn’t write—not anything—for a year.”
Ressa’s eyes fell away.
He continued to hold her hand as he talked. “Then on the a
“So this was some sort of closure for you,” she murmured.
“The first one was.” He shrugged. “Yeah. The second one? There was another idea . . . and it was fun. I had fun with it and I hadn’t had fun with writing for a long time. So . . . I wrote the third one. I’ll keep doing it as long as I have fun with it.”
“And when you stop having fun?”
“I’ll try another kind of story.” He gazed into the fire. The firelight danced over his skin and she was struck anew by how beautiful he was.
The question hovered in the back of her throat.
Ressa told herself not to ask.
Now wasn’t the time.
She didn’t need to do this right now. She opened her mouth, then closed it, feeling like a fool. Before her internal debate could be solved, there was a crashing sound and they both went silent, turning to follow the noise that had come from beyond the hedge that ran along Trey’s yard.
There was no way to see beyond it, not with the fence and the thick, lush green that rose above it.
The odd sensation of being watched settled over her. “What was that?”
“Probably Nadine’s dog,” Trey said. “She’s got an old bulldog that’s blind as a bat.”
The night was quiet, save for the lapping of the water in the pool.
He brushed his fingers down her cheek. “You worry too much.”
Forcing herself to look up, she met his gaze.
“What?”
He cupped her cheek, stroked his thumb over her lip. Tucked there in the corner of his backyard, she felt like it was just the two of them in the world.
He lifted his eyes to hers but they were practically lost in the shadows.
“You wear every thought, right there for people to see,” he said. “Instead of worrying, why don’t you just ask?”
Ressa’s heart lodged up in her throat. She licked her lips, opened her mouth. But the words wouldn’t come.
Trey just shook his head, a faint smile twitching on his lips. “I loved Aliesha. She was Clayton’s mother, was the love of my life . . . while I had her. But she’s gone and I’m not the man I used to be.”
Reaching up, she lay a hand against his cheek. Stubble scraped against her palm. “And who are you now?”
“In this very moment?” He turned his face into her touch. “I’m the man who wants to take you to bed.”
Her heart jumped up into her throat.
She thought of Neeci, thought of Clayton, thought of a hundred reasons why maybe this wasn’t the smart thing to do.
But she could argue with herself for hours.
For once, she was going to listen to what her heart said.
“I like that man . . . a lot.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Ressa didn’t know why she felt so nervous.
It had seemed so easy, so right, outside a few minutes ago.
She’d called her aunt and Angeline had acted so casual, taken it completely in stride when Ressa said she was thinking about staying the night with Trey.
Shoot, the woman had already pla
“I’ve already got clothes for Neeci here, baby. We’ll work out plans to meet tomorrow for you to get your car.”
So simple, so easy.
Except it wasn’t.
Now, lingering by the French doors in Trey’s room, she tried to calm the crazy knots in her belly. She heard a door open—the bathroom, she assumed, and she shivered, opened her mouth to say something. Stall . . . say something, you need to think . . .
But then she was in his arms.
“I missed you,” he whispered against her mouth.
Think.
Yeah, she was going to be doing a lot of that.
Trey moved—she had the dizzying impression of the room spi
“Shut up.” She dragged his mouth back to her, nipped his lower lip.
“Yes, ma’am.” Trey stripped her shirt away and then he leaned in, his mouth seeking out the curve of her neck while he reached behind her for the catch on her bra.
“You, too,” she demanded, tugging at the plain white button-down.
She laughed when he pulled it off with a force that sent buttons flying.
“I hope that wasn’t one of your favorites,” she said as he boosted her up.
“Wouldn’t matter. It was in the way.” He braced her against the wall, leaning in to press his mouth to her neck, then go lower, brushing soft, light kisses along her collarbone, and then he moved back up, claiming her mouth with his.
His tongue stabbed into her mouth as he popped the button on her jeans, undid the zipper. He seemed to have a thousand hands, because the jeans were gone in a blink. Then he boosted her up, braced her against the wall so he could rock against her. He was only wearing a pair of jeans now—and other than her panties, rough denim was all that separated him from her. His cock pulsed and she whimpered, feeling that sensation all the way down to her toes. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she clung tight, almost delirious with the pleasure.
He caught her tongue and sucked it into his mouth and then rubbed against her again.
Was it really possible to see sparks? Maybe even feel them? Because in that moment, she thought she was seeing, feeling . . . tasting—
Tearing her mouth away, she shoved him back. “Stop.”
He went still. “Stop?” His voice was harsh, uneasy, his breathing as ragged as her own.
“I can’t . . .” She had to wait a second to catch her breath. “I can’t breathe.”
The slow, wicked smile that curled his lips sent fire sizzling through her veins and she thought maybe, just maybe, she’d learn what it felt like to combust. “Good.” He leaned back in, but instead of covering her mouth with his, he pressed his lips to the curve where neck and shoulder met. She hissed out a breath, the heat of him scalding her, and the sensation of him raking his teeth down her skin sent shivers racing through every part of her.