Blush(50)

Either he wanted her or he didn’t. Now was the time to show her. One way or another.

Just as she was about to release his seemingly reluctant hand, he started moving his large, sexy bare feet. The man did not look happy as he started to follow her up the old, worn stairs. She wasn’t exactly dragging him, but it felt like it.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming or not?” She made sure it sounded neither needy nor belligerent. She felt both.

He gave her a cool, assessing look that made her reconsider her precipitous decision to seduce him. His reluctance, when she was so eager, was humiliating. Any self-respecting woman would just tell him to fuck off right now.

She took the next step up. So did he, but his pace was slower than hers. Less eager. The light in the hallway and on the stairs was as far from romantic as it could get. She’d told him to toss the cheap chandelier, and now there was nothing but the naked 100-watt bulb hanging above them. Hardly flattering after her drenching.

His slow pace, with his hand in hers, almost pulled her off balance on the smooth, slick stairs. Mia had to do a little jog down two steps, then back up one to keep her balance. Another move like that and she’d accidentally knock them both down the damn stairs. She bit the corner of her lip, now half- irritated and half-amused at his reluctance. Slewing her eyes to look at him, she gave his hand a firmer tug. “I’ve never seen anyone trudge before.”

“You know the alternative.”

“That I finish the walk of shame by myself, and get out an appliance? Don’t do me any favors, Barcelona. All cats are gray in the dark. And as much as I want it, I’m not going to go all cave girl on your ass and force you to do something against your damned will.” Mia didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm out of her voice this time.

She’d never seduced a recalcitrant male—probably because she’d never encountered one before. But she doubted even a guy with Cruz’s steely determination would be unwilling if she had her mouth on his penis and his balls in her hand.

The smell of soap on his skin made her insides mushy and her brain forget she was the CEO of a multibillion-dollar corporation, used to bossing people around and having them jump to do her bidding.

Had he ever asked anyone “How high?”? She doubted it. She talked a good game. But they were halfway there. And it wasn’t a plastic dildo she needed between her legs; it was his lovely hot, thick penis. She’d like to handcuff him, have him lying spread-eagled on her bed, and then see who begged for mercy. The idea had an enormous appeal.

Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks; his fingers lost their hold on hers. Pulled off balance, her heart kicked as her bare feet no longer had the solid surface of the wooden stairs beneath them. There was nothing, just air. Empty space.

Heartbeat crazy fast, arms flailing, she reached to grab anything stable to break her fall. Nothing. Too far from the banister. Too far from the upper landing.

Cruz was the only thing between her and fifteen hard steps below. Shock made him appear impossibly far away, as if he’d moved out of reach in the blink of an eye. “Cruz!” For a second, one awful, long second, it seemed as though he wouldn’t catch her, that he was going to just stand there as she tumbled to the foot of the stairs in a broken heap.

Then strong fingers grabbed her upper arm and he yanked her in hard against the solid, safe plane of his chest. Air whooshed out of her lungs on impact. Mia clung to his waist, holding on tightly, face pressed to his chest. The jolt of adrenaline made her heart kick, and cold sweat prickled her skin. It was a near miss, and she could’ve been seriously injured if he hadn’t grabbed her.

“Good catch.” Her voice rushed out on an exhalation of fear and air. She looked up to observe his tight lips and the muscle flexing in his jaw. He drew deep breaths as if he, too, had had a near fall. The unflattering single lightbulb overhead made Cruz look more dangerous, more ruggedly handsome. The light cast shadows on his face, making his eyes appear darker and more deep-set. It formed shadow muscles on his bare chest and accentuated the flexing of his biceps.

Mia shifted to break free of his tight hold. So he’d saved her from a tumble. Didn’t mean he wanted to engage in wild monkey sex with her. She had more pride, more dignity, than that. She was making a fool of herself, and she knew it. Her skin still felt hot and prickly all over. And only partly because of the slip.

“This obviously isn’t working for you, and I don’t need to drag you up the stairs. Or pull you down, for that matter. I still have the number of the Bon Temps agency . . .”

In response his arms tightened, almost cutting off her air. Fine with her. Right now her legs felt weak—she could use the support. “Far be it for me to coerce you into doing something you’re clearly reluc—”