She had to press her lips together to contain her amusement at his exaggerated look of shock.
"Moi?" he asked, eyes wide. "I would never stoop so low as to angle. Of course, if you were to offer one-so I shouldn't expire from sex-induced hunger-I probably wouldn't refuse."
"Uh-huh." She tapped her finger against the center of his chest. "You know what I think? I think my chocolate-covered marshmallows are all you're after."
"Wrong. I'm after your chocolate-covered marshmallows and your body." A speculative gleam sparkled in his eyes, and he trailed his index finger slowly down her body, igniting tiny bonfires on her skin. "And if we actually placed the chocolate-covered marshmallows on your body, in a connect-the-dots sort of way… well, no telling what might happen then. Whaddaya say?"
"I say you've got yourself a snack."
Chapter 8
Matt awoke to a shaft of early-morning light gilding the room. His senses all engaged simultaneously, all of them registering the same thing: Jilly.
Jilly's warm body sprawled across his as he lay on his back. The feel of Jilly's hand resting on his chest, directly over the spot where his heart beat. The soft curve of Jilly's hip beneath his palm. The sensation of Jilly's shapely thigh hooked over his legs. Jilly's unique scent, spiced with the heady musk of their spent passion. Jilly's round, coral-tipped breasts pressed against his side. Jilly's warm breath blowing gently over his ribs. Jilly's shiny tangle of hair spread across his torso.
He rubbed one of those midnight curls between his thumb and forefinger, instantly recalling an image of his hands tunneled through those lustrous strands, his erection buried deep in her body, his name sighing from her lips as they shared another round of heart-stopping lovemaking.
Heart stopping. That's exactly what it had been. Intense. Incredible. In a way he couldn't describe, because it was completely unfamiliar. He felt like he'd just parachuted down into a foreign country without benefit of so much as a freakin' map.
It was as if everything he'd ever felt for a woman before was suddenly magnified a hundredfold, rendering every woman who'd come before Jilly pale in comparison. It was one thing to be turned on by her but, hell, he hadn't expected to be so turned on. Or so enthralled by her touch. Or so captivated by her smile. Attracted to her sense of humor and fierce need for independence. Fascinated by the flashes of mischief in her eyes. Damn it, he just hadn't expected to be so completely captured by everything about her.
Where were all these unwanted… feelings coming from? He liked her. Admired her. Wanted to learn all about her. In and out of bed.
He drew a deep breath. Oh, man. This was bad. Really bad. Definitely not the way this weekend was supposed to go down. He and Jilly were supposed to share a few laughs, a few orgasms, then-badda-bing-back to work as usual.
Well, one night in her arms left him no doubt that there was no chance in hell of that happening because there was no way he'd be able to put this weekend behind him and pretend it hadn't happened. Not when the taste of her, the feel and scent of her, the sound of her moaning his name as she found her release in his arms, were all permanently etched in his mind.
You're an idiot, his pain-in-the-ass inner voice said, in a disgusted tone. You never should have slept with her.
Great. Now you tell me.
Hey, I tried to tell you before you hit the sheets that this had "mistake of Godzilla-size proportions" tattooed all over it, his inner voice interjected. But did you listen to me, Hormone-Man? Nooooo. You let this chick get your boxers all in a wad and now you've started something that will land you right back in the same mess you found yourself in with Tricia-sleeping with the enemy.
He squeezed his eyes shut and banished the voice. Okay, indulging in sex with Jilly hadn't been smart, especially since he had the uncomfortable feeling that something much more significant than just sex had passed between them. But he wouldn't make the same mistakes he'd made with Tricia. No way. Forewarned was forearmed. This time he knew going in that the woman he was dealing with was ambitious and badly wanted the same account he did.
Yeah, but now he also knew how soft her skin was. Knew her delicious taste. The silky texture of her hair. How incredible it felt to be buried deep in her velvety warmth. That was the sort of knowledge that could cloud his judgment. Cost him his competitive edge. And maybe a hell of a lot more.
But only if he let it. And he wouldn't. So he liked her. So he was attracted to her. Big deal. As long as he didn't do something stupid like fall in love with her, everything would be fine. He was in control.
Feeling considerably cheered by his mental pep talk, he skimmed his hand over the silky curve of her waist. She stirred in his arms, then lifted her head, and looked at him through eyes heavy-lidded with the remnants of sleep. A slow smile curved her lips. "Good morning."
Two words and a smile. That's all it took to sucker-punch all his fine control into next week.
"Good morning."
Stacking her hands on his chest, she rested her chin on her fingers and looked at him through solemn eyes. "We have a big problem here, Matt."
Damn. She felt their connection, too. That just complicated things further. And surely should have filled him with wariness, as opposed to this sensation that felt suspiciously like relief. With a dose of happiness thrown in for good measure.
"Look, Jilly, I-"
"Because I don't smell coffee."
He stared at her. "Huh?"
"Coffee. I distinctly recall us agreeing at some point last night that whoever woke up first was in charge of rounding up the coffee-preferably in an IV drip. Since you were looking at me when I opened my eyes just now, you obviously awoke first. But I don't smell coffee. So you're in big trouble."
His hands slid down her smooth back to the deliciously warm curve of her buttocks. "Oh, yeah? What kind of trouble?"
"As in you owe me big time."
"Are we talkin' money here? How much?"
"Money?" she scoffed. "Oh, no." She shifted, and ran her hand down his abdomen, brushing her fingers over the tip of his erection. "I demand a flesh payment."
"And if I refuse to give in to your heinous demands?"
For an answer, she rolled off him and rose from the bed. His gaze stalked her gorgeous, naked form as she strolled out of his line of vision with a sinful sway of her hips. He heard the sounds of her readying the room's coffeemaker, which was situated on a shelf just outside the bathroom. The ripping of the plastic bag, then the pouring of the grounds into the filter. Filling the glass pot, adding the water to the machine, then flipping the switch. Seconds later she appeared and, leaning against the wall, dangled a white ceramic cup from her index finger.
"If you choose not to give in to my heinous demands, I won't share my freshly brewing coffee with you," she said.
Without taking his gaze from her, he rose from the bed and walked slowly toward her. "You drive a hard bargain, Jilly."
Her gaze dipped down to his erection. "A topic you're familiar with, I see."
When he reached her, he plucked the cup from her fingers, tossed it onto the bed, then yanked her into his arms. Their lips met in a lush, intimate kiss that shot fire through his veins.
"All right," he said, dragging his mouth down her soft neck. "I'll pay up this time, but only because I'm desperate for that coffee."
Her hand slipped between them. She wrapped her fingers around his aroused length and he sucked in a sharp breath.
"Hmmmm. Are you sure coffee is what you want, Matt?"
"Yeah." Dipping his knees, he picked her up and carried her back to the bed. "But I want you first."