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“About… about…” She waved toward the bed between them.
“I’m fine not having sex, Eve. I’ve spent years without it. I’m never going to pressure you or make you feel bad about that.”
Now it was her time for confusion. “Ooookay?”
“Isn’t that what you were nervous about?”
“No!” This was getting ridiculous. He was so astute and insightful about so many things, but he was completely clueless—totally, irretrievably clueless—about this one thing.
He actually thought she didn’t want to have sex with him.
“Then what was it?” His gray eyes were wide and searching. One sprig of his beard wasn’t lying down neatly with the rest of it. His chest was bare. Since the covers were pushed down to his waist, she had a clear view of the lean muscles, coarse dark hair, and bare skin.
She really wanted to touch him. She opened her mouth to tell him but closed it again.
She wasn’t like that. She’d never been like that. She’d never blurted out what she was thinking before, and there was no reason to embarrass herself by starting now.
“I thought you weren’t really into sex with me anymore,” he said, slightly hoarse. He was scrutinizing every detail of her expression.
Her mouth fell open again. “Wh-what? Why would you think that?”
“I… don’t know. Because…”
His inability to answer was a deep relief. He was no more in control of his feelings than she was.
“I thought we should take it a little slow to let you recover. You were really, really sick. But that doesn’t mean… Of course I still want to have sex.”
His face was changing. Instead of that intense scrutiny, his features softened. His eyes warmed. Blazed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Honestly, I was getting kind of upset because you weren’t making any moves. But I didn’t want you to feel bad if you’d decided… you’d decided…”
“I’d decided I was done with sex with you?” He chuckled again and reached out to gently stroke her hair. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her cheeks were burning again, but it didn’t feel bad this time. “That’s good then.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. It is.”
They stared at each other for a minute.
He finally asked with a lot of gravel in his voice, “So you want to?—?”
“Yeah.”
“Now?”
“Definitely now.”
With a soft groan, he eased her toward him and then above him so that she ended up sprawled out on top of his body. He pulled her head down until their lips met. The kiss was soft and slow and delicious.
Eve giggled against his mouth, overcome with a cascade of relief and excitement and self-directed irony.
She’d really made a mess of the whole thing, but it didn’t matter now.
Because he still wanted her. A lot if the speed with which he was hardening in his pants was any evidence.
He withdrew from the kiss so he could check her face, obviously looking for the reason she was laughing. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him because he smiled too and then drew her back into the kiss.