Page 44 of Hard Deal
“Perfection.” His hand curved around her head and he tugged lightly on her ponytail to tilt her face up. “You’ve ruined me. You know that, right? I’m damaged goods now.”
The words turned her bones to goo and she braced one palm against his thigh. “You’re not damaged goods.”
“Yeah, I am.” He pulled her up and started working on her jeans, popping the button and drawing the zipper down so slowly she wanted to shove his hand out of the way to get the job done faster. “Nothing else will ever feel as good as this.”
“You keep saying these things...” She swallowed. “Like you’re trying to make me feel special.”
“Is it working?” He pulled her jeans down over her hips. The air had started to chill and Imogen was acutely aware of how exposed she was. Her backside was facing the balcony’s edge—her boring, beige undies bared for the world to see.
You’ve got to stop doing that. It’s clear the boring undies trick doesn’t work around him.
“Yes, but you don’t need to romance me.” A lump swelled in the back of her throat. Hope filtered through her veins, her heart pumping the stupid feeling all around her body. She might be agreeing to sex, but that was it. If she started to care about Caleb then she was really going to be at risk. “You don’t have to say that stuff to get into my pants.”
“I know.” He hooked a finger into the waistband of her underwear and slowly dragged the fabric over her hips and thighs. She wriggled and stepped out of them so she was naked from the waist down.
“Then why do you keep saying those things?”
“Because your body isn’t enough. I want to get in here.” He tapped the side of her head and then he tapped the spot over her heart. “And here.”
It was too much—the words, the feeling of drowning in her own desire, the fact that she wanted the same thing from him. His body was great, the sex was great, but that was secondary to the fact that she never felt invisible to him. He’d brought her out into the open—literally and figuratively—shown her it was possible to indulge in her sexuality. To break her boundaries and to try again. To let herself fall for someone.
That’s how you got so messed up last time. You fell for a guy even when your head said it wasn’t right—and what happened? You should have learned your lesson.
“I don’t want you in there,” she said. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. Maybe he was right—every time something started to feel too real she pulled away.
It was why her dates always fell flat—she never shared anything of herself. Instead, she blamed the lack of chemistry on her not being sexy enough when in reality she didn’t make the effort. Turning up wasn’t enough. She needed to engage.
But that was too freaking scary.
“I’ll wait,” he said. “And I’ll be patient, but I will keep trying.”
“Why? It’s not like I’m making it easy for you.” She tried to twist away but he held her fast, forcing her to look at him. “Why would you keep trying?”
“Because I like you. I’ve always liked you.”
The simple sincerity undid her. Whatever remaining ties held the last walls in place around her heart were sliced through. “I like you, too.”
Against her better judgement, the lessons of her past and what she thought she should want...it was true. She liked Caleb Allbrook. A lot.
“Does that mean you agree I’m God’s gift to cha-chas?”
“Pussies,” she corrected with a grin.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Let’s get inside. I want that glorious butt of yours all to myself.”
“No sharing with the great wide world tonight?”
“No way.” He cupped her face with his hands. “Tonight, you belong to me.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IMOGEN WOKE WITH her face mushed into Caleb’s pillow, one arm totally numb from being tucked underneath her. His bed sheets were knotted around her legs and it took her a good minute to disentangle herself. She spotted a drool mark on the pillow and decided to flip it over to hide the evidence.
Post-sex in real life wasn’t quite as glamorous as the movies made it out to be, but that was fine by her. In fact, she kind of liked the imperfect little details because it made everything so much more real...and she wasn’t running away from that anymore.
A stupid, unbreakable grin stretched across her lips and Imogen buried her face into her palms to muffle a fizzy laugh. Who the hell was she right now? Her limbs ached from a night of pure unadulterated bliss, each muscle group telling its own story, from the tightness in her forearms from when she’d gripped Caleb’s headboard, to the tenderness in her butt from where she’d fallen off the bed after he’d chased her across the room. To the ache between her legs from where he’d pushed her to come over and over, their need driving and insatiable.
The room had taken a hit, too. They’d knocked over a lamp, caused the fitted sheet to ping off one corner of the bed and there was a slight splatter on the carpet from where they’d opened a bottle of chocolate sauce and Caleb had gotten a little too excited about licking it off her body.