“For what?”
“For seeking revenge on you for making me, um-” She blushed. “Hot for you. I know you were just doing your job, bringing out the sexiness of the show and teaching me how to do it, and I’m sorry I turned on you like that. I wanted to make you hot back and…well, it was juvenile. I can see that now.”
Suddenly he felt very friendly. And very happy she’d come to see him. “I don’t want your apology.” He stepped toward her, so relieved at having this last chance at seeing her again he felt weak.
“You…don’t?” When he took another step toward her, her eyes darkened. “What do you want?”
“Isn’t that just the million-dollar question?” He tipped his head back and pretended to ponder. “What do I want? Hmm… How about I want to know if you’re as scared as me that this is over?”
“I-”
He put his hands on her hips and tugged her close. “How about I want to know if you really came here to apologize or to satisfy this unquenchable need we have for each other?”
“Um…”
“And how about I want to know if you meant it the other day when you told me you weren’t wearing any damn panties, and are you wearing any now?”
Her eyes flashed, and she slid her arms around his neck, putting her mouth on his before he could ask her the rest, before he could tell her he’d discovered the L word for the first time in far too many years and that he wanted to know if she could possibly feel the same.
He wanted to tell her he didn’t want to leave-what a joke that was-but he really didn’t want to go, he wanted to stay forever and become a small-town man who put his nose in everyone else’s business.
But he couldn’t say a word because she’d opened her mouth on his, deepening the kiss, and every single thought flew right out the window.
Then she wriggled and wriggled until she had enough room to yank his shirt out of his pants and over his head. Before he could so much as blink, she’d sunk to her knees before him and was working on his belt, which she promptly tossed over her shoulder.
Her fingers danced over his raging erection as she looked at him coyly. “I’d better be careful with the zipper.”
“Yeah, you’d-” His words were choked off because she tugged down the rest of his clothing, leaving him with no blood left in his brain with which to formulate a sentence, much less a thought.
“There,” she said cheerfully, sitting back on her heels and looking at him with sleepy, sexy eyes. “You’re the first one naked this time. I think I like that. A lot.”
With a growl, he lunged at her, sprawling them across the carpet. It didn’t take him long to unbutton her sweater and tackle her jeans off, where he learned she had indeed gone commando. Rolling, wrestling, laughing, he finally caught her beneath him, grinning at her like the love-struck fool he was.
“You got anything more for me than that smile, Mitch?”
“Are you kidding?” In case she hadn’t noticed his erection to beat all erections, he nudged her with it.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “What do you plan to do with that?”
“You’ll see.”
“Might I suggest you hurry?”
“Suggestion considered.” And finally, finally, he sunk into her glorious body.
Her smile faded, and so did his. Her quiet moan echoed his. And they clutched at each other, his favorite part, feeling her nails bite into him, seeing her dazed, just-as-gone gaze meet his.
Mitch was damn glad it wasn’t just him feeling this way. He was so glad it was almost enough to make him weep, but then she arched up and took him even deeper within her and he was lost.
Completely lost.
“Hurry,” she whispered again, and he was all too happy to oblige.
HE LAY on his back, staring at the ceiling, a contented, warm, sated Dimi curled at his side. “Okay,” he said. “We’re definitely even.”
With a groan, she came up on an elbow to look at him. Her hair fell into his face, and though he blew it out, it hit him again.
He thought that just maybe he’d be content to have her hair in his face for the rest of his life. He should tell her that. Wanted to tell her that.
But she was looking at him with a good amount of wariness, and he sighed.
“What do you mean,” she said, “we’re even?”
“I played low and dirty to get you to change your persona for the show. Remember?”
“Definitely. You teased and tormented me and basically made my life a living hell.”
“Uh-huh. Your show became wildly popular, you got a new contract and a great raise and you found you loved this wilder side of yourself, you poor, poor abused baby. Having me…what was it you said? Tease and torment you. Kiss and touch you. And you hated every minute of it, I know.”
She glared at him, making him laugh. “Don’t give me that look,” he said. “Because in return you played low and dirty to drive me crazy with lust, and you know it. So we’re even. And now…” He stroked a hand down her slim back, loving the feel of her against him. “And now it’s time for a compromise so we don’t kill each other.”
“Why?” Her eyes went a little flat. “You’re leaving, remember?”
“Yeah, about that.” He sat, slid his hands up her arms and tried not to get distracted by the sight she made sitting there tousled and naked and annoyed. “That’s the compromise part.”
13
DIMI LEAPT UP. She knew what was coming. A man’s idea of compromise meant he got to go back to Los Angeles and send for her whenever he needed his itch scratched.
Or maybe he’d show up here every once in awhile, all dark and beautiful and ready to melt her with just one wicked smile.
And she would melt, she had no doubt. All he had to do was crook one little finger and she’d drop to the floor in a boneless puddle of Jell-O.
Pathetic, that was her. Feeling very naked, she searched for her clothes and came up with Mitch’s shirt. Good enough.
Mitch stood, too, and reached out to touch her cheek. “It’s on inside out.”
So was her heart. Darn it, how had this happened? How had she fallen for a guy who could never take her seriously?
“Dimi…” He took her hands in his and stilled her movements. “Did I scare you when I said it was time for a compromise?”
“Of course not.” Scoffing, she broke away and went searching for her panties.
“You didn’t wear any, remember?” Mitch sighed when she hauled on her jeans. He reached for his pants. “You going to answer me, Dimi?”
“You don’t scare me.”
“The word compromise sure did.” He put his hands on her shoulders and made her look at him. “What did you think I meant, I wonder?” He searched her gaze and shook his head. “It was a doozy, whatever you came up with.”
“I need to get going.”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded companionably. “I understand. I know the feeling all too well. Things take a wrong turn or something tugs on your heart, just run like hell. It’s been my escape choice for two years, as well.”
“I’m not running away.”
“Liar,” he chided softly, holding her still when she would have torn away. “Why don’t you just listen then, since you won’t talk to me? Can you do that, I wonder?”
No. God, no. “You’re the one who’s leaving,” she said desperately.
A sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. Which brings me back to the whole compromise thing.” He brought her to his couch and sank down on it, tugging her down, as well, so they faced each other.
Only he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his hair looked as if someone had run their fingers through it-which of course she had-and her poor overwhelmed senses could only imagine how it would be to still be on the floor all tangled up with him.
Bottom line, she wanted him, darn it, and her heart felt as if it was going to burst, and she couldn’t believe she’d shown up at his house like this. She should have left it alone after their pizza goodbye, but no, she’d had to see him one more time.