Taking It All Off. Cindi Myers
said you wanted to find out what kind of woman you really are.” He took her hand and laid it in his, palm up, as if he was about to tell her fortune. “Lesson number one—a lot of sex takes place inside a person’s head. And I want to know what’s going on in yours. Why did you run out?”
She tried to pull her hand away, but his fingers encircled her wrist, trapping her. His gaze on her was steady. Relentless. She was going to have to answer his question. She took a deep breath. “I think I was a little overwhelmed by what happened. It wasn’t what I expected.”
He raised one eyebrow. “I hope that means it was better than you expected.”
She nodded, one quick jerk of her head. “Oh, yeah. Better. And…different.”
With his forefinger, he traced her lifeline, coming to rest at her pulse. “It was pretty intense.” His eyes met hers again. “I can’t say that’s happened to me very often.”
“It’s never happened to me before. I…I don’t know what it means.”
“It could be that it’s been a while for both of us, and that intensified the experience. Or it could mean that we’re particularly well-matched, physically.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Who would have guessed it?”
She flushed. “We aren’t that much alike, are we?”
“But maybe more than you give yourself credit for.”
His words startled her into smiling. “You can’t be serious. We’re nothing alike.”
He shrugged. “Think about it. We’re both driven. Ambitious. We don’t have patience with incompetence.”
She studied his long hair, faded T-shirt and baggy shorts. He was sexy in a just-rolled-out-of-bed way, but he was completely unlike any man she’d ever dated. She couldn’t imagine them being truly compatible. “We live completely different kinds of lives,” she said.
“I’m not likely to forget that.” His gaze took in her silk shirt and designer shorts. “But this weekend, none of that matters, does it?” He released her hand. “This weekend is about doing what feels good. About taking that intensity and running with it.” He stroked her cheek with one finger. “About learning to loosen up and let go.”
She nodded. “Yes.” At least for this weekend she had to stop listening to what her head told her to do, and pay more attention to her heart. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “So what now?”
He sat back and studied her. “I think I want to photograph you.”
She started to laugh, but the seriousness in his eyes stopped her. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I want to photograph you naked.”
The passion in his eyes warmed her, as did the blush that rose to her cheeks once more. “I don’t think—”
His hand on her thigh stopped her. “Don’t think about it now. We’ll talk later. Before the weekend is over.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Where are we going?” She slid off the stool and put her hand in his.
“Someplace where we can be alone.” He smiled down at her, mischief in his eyes. “Time for lesson number two.”
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