Six Hot Summer Nights. Leslie Kelly
studied those eyes that showed so much emotion. It was probably a good thing he was on the other side of the camera. No way could he ever hide his true thoughts.
“I see a lot of pain,” she told him, smoothing the line between his brows. “I see a man who wants to hope and is afraid to. If you’ll look back at me, really look, you’ll see we aren’t so different.”
And then she did something she’d been dying to do—even with the accusations, the lies, the uncertainty.
Taking control of the situation, she rose on her bare toes and kissed him.
He was toast.
Bronson knew when he’d been waiting on her porch that if she so much as hinted that she wanted physical contact, he’d be all over her. He’d been wanting her for weeks. Not just a kiss, either.
And her pressing her lips, her body, against his was much more than a hint—it couldn’t get more obvious than that.
Bronson wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, holding her body against his. She’d read into his feelings, his emotions too well, and that scared the hell out of him. He didn’t want to be under her scope—he didn’t want pity.
He wanted to know if she was trying to trap and destroy him.
But most of all he wanted to know what she wore beneath her simple black skirt and sleeveless pink top.
Mia framed his face with her palms and moaned as his mouth traveled from her lips down her neck. She arched into him, sending all kinds of jolts throughout his body.
“Bronson, we—”
“Need fewer clothes.”
He hated the loss of control he had as far as she was concerned. Hated that she had the power to ruin him.
But right now, Mia’s breathy sighs and pants in his ear clearly overrode common sense.
“Dinner …”
He nipped at her lips. “Still has a while and I need you now.”
Mia’s eyes widened, then softened as a smile spread across her face. “I didn’t think you liked me.”
Bronson palmed her breasts through her silk top. “I like you, Mia. I still can’t trust that you’re telling me the whole truth, but right now, I don’t give a damn.”
She started to protest when his mouth settled over hers. He didn’t want to hear excuses or reasons they should not be together. He knew them already and chose to ignore them.
He slid his hands around to the waist of her skirt and moved the zipper down. She wiggled those mesmerizing hips until the unwanted garment fell to the floor with a whoosh. She pulled the silk top over her head and tossed it toward the breakfast area, leaving her in a sexy, pink, lacey bra-and-panty set. Her rounded belly wasn’t the only sign of pregnancy. Her breasts nearly spilled over the top of the lace.
“You destroy me,” he muttered before pulling her body back against his. “Utterly destroy me.”
He devoured her mouth as her hands made quick work of his belt and pants. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants, then lifted her onto the kitchen island and stepped between her legs.
“Just to be clear, I’m going to have you again tonight on a bed.”
Mia smiled, tracing his lips with her fingertip. “Count on it.”
He pulled her bra cups aside and slid his hands over her bare breasts, pleased when she moaned and arched into his touch. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he pulled her against the edge of the counter.
“Do we need a …” She trailed off, her eyes questioning.
“It’s a little late for that,” he told her. “Besides, I’ve always used one and I just had a routine physical. I’m clean.”
“Me, too. I had complete bloodwork for my prenatal appointment.”
He smiled, easing into her. “That settles it then.”
Mia’s arms came around his neck as her hips tilted against his. This woman was becoming a drug in his system that he couldn’t get enough of. Those little moans, the sighs and the way she fit against him only proved to him how much she wanted this. She wasn’t immune to their sexual chemistry.
He slid into her slowly, wanting this to last, knowing it wouldn’t. He’d desired her, ached for her since Cannes. Wondered if he’d imagined how good they were together.
He hadn’t. No, those dreams he’d had every night since were spot-on.
Bronson shoved aside all thoughts, focusing on the woman writhing in his arms, whispering his name. In no time she shuddered against him, sending him into his own tailspin. He held on to her until they both stopped shaking and silently vowed to make this better later in that promised bed.
As he eased back, he couldn’t help but wonder how this would affect their … what? Relationship? They didn’t really have a relationship. They’d supposedly made a child, but what should he call what they had?
Regardless of what this arrangement was called, he knew he wanted Mia again and he had no intention of leaving her house tonight. And the deeper he became involved with her, the more he wanted to trust every word that came out of her mouth.
Mia poured an after-dinner drink for Bronson and moved into the living room where he’d settled and was flipping through to find a movie, his gloriously tanned broad shoulders and bare chest on display for her to appreciate.
“Really?” she asked, setting his drink on the glass side table. “A movie?”
He eyed her. “We can start one, but if you try seducing me, I reserve the right to turn it off.”
Was he actually going to stay? Did he want to play house? Mia was so confused by his actions because they contradicted his words. She didn’t want to play games, didn’t want to wait around until he decided where they stood. She just didn’t have the emotional stamina for it.
“We need to talk,” she told him, sitting down beside him. “I’m all for what happened before dinner, but I have to be honest—I’m not looking for a fling, Bronson. I think there could be something between us if we could just be honest with each other and not keep this so shallow.”
His hand froze on the remote before he laid it down on the table. “I’ve told you I can’t offer more to a woman, Mia. I just can’t. You know why.”
“I know what happened in your past,” she retorted. “Let go of it and move on. Let those wounds stay covered and stop reopening them.”
He turned his head and sighed. “Mia, I’m not looking for happily-ever-after. I used to, but that’s gone. Now I’m focused on work, and I have more than one project going. What I have to offer is minimal.”
Meaning sex. Mia placed a hand on his arm. She knew he was softening—she’d seen it in the doctor’s office when he’d heard their baby’s heartbeat. She also knew their chemistry was amazing. So many elements to make for a wonderful family if he would just open his eyes to the possibility.
Patience. She had to learn patience if she wanted to forge a family with Bronson. And if the compatibility wasn’t there, then she’d let it go. But she had to try. Her heart had already gotten entangled with him.
Mia started unbuttoning Bronson’s dress shirt, which she’d thrown on before dinner. One by one his eyes traveled the path of her fingers.
“Then I’ll take what you have to offer,” she told him, shrugging out of the oversized shirt. “But I won’t stop trying to make you happy and to show you how good we could be together.”
She came to her feet, allowing