Giving In(38)

“You’re a hard-core cynic,” he murmured. “I hadn’t realized just how much of one you were. You’re going to be a tough nut to crack, baby, but I’m up for the task. I’ve never backed down from a challenge and I don’t plan to start now.”

She stared incredulously at him. The things she’d said to him had sent every other man she’d ever attempted to date running for the door like the hounds of hell were after them. And yet Jensen wasn’t remotely put off by her “issues.” If anything they seemed to make him more determined to break through those walls she’d erected. Walls that had been solidly in place her entire adult life and most of her childhood.

She’d learned at a very young age how to protect her mind, her sanity. To shut out the world around her and stay in self-preservation mode. It had served her well, but had made personal relationships impossible. Because who wanted to deal with such a head case, much less make a commitment to one?

She glanced down at her plate, surprised to see it was empty, then she looked over at Jensen’s to find he too was finished. What now? Once again, she felt the awkwardness of not knowing what came next.

The movie. He had a movie. The plan was to eat dinner and watch a movie. Simple enough. She could handle that.

“You ready for the movie?” she asked, proud of the initiative she took. “I’ll just put the plates in the sink and wash them later. Why don’t you go start up the movie and I’ll bring us both a glass of wine, unless you’d prefer something else?”

“Wine is fine. Your company is what I want most. Anything else is just bonus material.”

Damn it. What to even say to that? He was seducing her with mere words and that heart-melting, warm, fuzzy smile he sent her way every so often. He hadn’t even tried to get into her pants and they were already halfway down.

Disgusted with her raging hormones—why had they picked now to rear their ugly head?—she took the plates and did a quick rinse before leaving them in the sink to take care of later.

She took a moment to compose herself and calm her racing pulse down. It was just a movie. For God’s sake, get it together.

She poured two glasses of wine, though she had no intention of drinking hers. She’d already had her limit and the last thing she wanted was a fuzzy head. Jensen did that to her all on his own. No alcohol needed, though the liquid courage aspect might be appealing.

When she entered the living room, Jensen was leaning back on the couch looking very much at home. The remote was in his hand and he had the movie paused at the beginning. She didn’t even know what they were watching. Did it matter? She doubted she’d remember much of it anyway.

He held out his hand to her, not for the wine, but to take her hand once she placed the glasses on the coffee table. She allowed him to slide his fingers through hers and pull her gently to the couch beside him.

“There, that’s better,” he murmured. “Now the evening can begin.”

“What are we watching?” she asked.

“Some zombie apocalypse movie,” he said with a twist of his lips. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I had to be careful with my selection so you didn’t read anything into my choice or my intentions.”

“So should I worry that you’ll bite me and infect me with some virulent strain of some super virus?” she said dryly.

He chuckled. “I like your sense of humor, Kylie. It fits mine well. Though some would likely argue that neither of us has one. But I think we fit just fine.”

Her cheeks warmed because no, no one had ever accused her of having a sense of humor, twisted or not.

He laid his arm over the top of the couch, a silent invitation for her to move closer. She hesitated at first, not wanting to be obvious, but she found herself gravitating to the warmth and strength of his body.

Soon she was cuddled up next to him, his arm hung loosely over her shoulders. His fingers danced idly over her upper arm, eliciting a trail of chill bumps. His touch was like fire, even through her shirt. She tried to focus on the movie but found herself increasingly distracted by her proximity to his body.

At one point she turned to look at him only to find him staring intently at her, his eyes glowing. So very warm. Comforting. Unconsciously she leaned in, not even realizing what she was doing. He met her advance and brushed his lips softly across hers.

It was an electrical shock to her system. She shivered uncontrollably and then he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping over her lips, licking and then sliding inside to brush over hers.

He tasted of the wine they’d drunk. That and something altogether different. Heady. Masculine. The taste was undefinable. But she liked it. A lot.