She’d been four, maybe five at the most, dancing around the kitchen with her momma while her daddy cooked.
“Thank you. I didn’t mean to cry, but you surprised me,” she admitted as he took off her shoes. He undid her necklace and carefully placed it on the nightstand, then began to remove her earrings.
Such an intimate act, without even removing her clothes.
Blake’s eyes were so blue this close up, like the color of the ocean at dusk. “Never be afraid to be yourself with me, and never apologize for letting your feelings show.” He brushed a kiss against her forehead, but she tipped up her chin for more. He made a noise of dissent, but she insisted.
“Please. I need... you.”
Their lips met and she tasted him, her tongue licking the corner of his mouth. His tongue met hers. He tasted so sweet that her toes curled. He tasted better than cherry cokes.
“Ella,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re not... if you weren’t drunk, you wouldn’t be kissing me.”
“So.”
“I want you sober.”
Their mouths met again, his body coming on top of hers. He was so large, so warm, and so male that she writhed against him. A low groan left his chest, and he pushed away from her. She grabbed for him, catching his shirt.
“Ella, I can’t. We can’t. I promise you I want you, but not like this.”
“Sleep with me? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
He gazed down at her, indecision playing across his face. “As long as my virtue is safe from you.”
A helpless giggle/snort left her mouth. “Very safe.” Yes, she wanted him. Yes, she loved kissing him and feeling him... everything, but—she frowned.
What had she been thinking about?
The room spun, as did Blake.
Closing her eyes, she let the darkness take her.
Chapter Five
Ella woke up the next morning with a start. Unfortunately, she couldn’t claim to have forgotten everything that had transpired the night before, so it was no shock to find Blake in bed with her.
But the tender smile on his face was rather unexpected.
“Does your head hurt?” he murmured in that sexy voice of his, his fingers light on her temple as they explored.
“Not really,” she said. It didn’t. She hadn’t been that drunk. The three shots she had traveled through her system like lightning, making her giggly, talkative... and vulnerable.
“That’s good.” His blue gaze turned serious. “Feel like eating? I can order room service.”
“I’m not really hungry. More thirsty than anything,” she admitted.
He turned to one side and then back to her, holding out a glass of water. As he tipped it up to her mouth, she drank greedily while he continued to hold it. “Better?” he asked several moments later.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
For whatever reason, she didn’t immediately move to get out of bed, and he obviously took that as a sign to inch closer to her. They were both still dressed, though without shoes—or jewelry.
Her mouth quirked at the memory.
“You are lovely in the morning.”
Her eyes widened and for the life of her, she couldn’t think of a snappy comeback. “I am?”
“Very.” Reaching over her, he set the glass on the nightstand, while she came face to face with his muscular chest. The scent of him, something woodsy and male, infused her nose. Despite herself, she breathed deeply.
Her body pricked with awareness as he slid back again, his arm brushing her breasts. Her nipples hardened.
She gasped.
He froze, holding himself suspended above her. “Ella,” he said, dipping his head. “Last night, I think you wanted something more from me. This morning, I’m fully prepared to give it to you.”
Swallowing another gasp, she gazed up at his face, and then into his intense blue eyes. They were full of desire. Her gaze dropped to his full lips, lips that she had kissed last night. Ones that tasted so good her toes had curled.
She couldn’t remember the last time a kiss made her toes curl. Had her toes ever curled from a kiss? Maybe it was the shots of vodka... or the sweet gesture of him having all of her favorite things for dinner.
“We don’t get along, Blake,” she reminded him.
“Perhaps we can try to get along while we’re here.” He drew closer, his mouth a breath away.
“What about the emails and your threat—”
“Gone.” His gaze turned rueful. “I scrubbed them from the server after you deleted them from your folder, two years ago.”
She blinked up at him. He’d lied to her, but then again, he’d never said he had them. Only taunted her with them, made her keep blaming him for her embarrassment over the choice she had made.