I rake my fingers through my hair, trying to erase the memory of what just happened. Two steps forward, three steps back.
The guest room next to the master is a foreign sight. I haven抰 set foot in here for years. When my father sets up a 揻amily?vacation, it抯 always to the Alps for Christmas or on some tropical island. Whenever I抳e spent time here, I抳e stayed in the master. There抯 no way I抦 setting foot in there tonight.
I strip down to my boxers and face plant into bed.
I wake with a dry throat while it抯 still dark out. I roll around in the sheets for a few minutes, trying to find a comfortable spot that will lull me back to sleep. Eventually, I give up. I stand and leave the bedroom, heading for the dark, silent kitchen.
It takes me three tries to find the cabinet with the glasses in it. I fill one with cold water from the tap, drain most of it, refill it, and then turn to leave.
Scarlett is leaning against the doorway, staring at me. My heart rate accelerates, slows, and then picks up again.
揇o you want any water??
She scoffs and turns away.
I cross the kitchen in a few strides and grab her arm. 揝carlett. Look, I棓
She whirls on me. 揥hat? What do you want from me, Crew? Because I thought it was sex. But I offered that to you on a platinum fucking platter and you decided to sleep down the hall.?
揧ou weren抰 thinking clearly.?
揘o shit. I can抰 think clearly around you.?
揟hat抯 the sweetest thing you抳e ever said to me, baby.?
揇on抰 get used to it.?
揑抎 like to.?
That seems to pierce whatever armor she抯 wearing underneath her flimsy nightgown. These scraps of short fabric will be the death of me, I swear. 揥ill this end once we have sex??
揥hat??
揊orget it.?
揓ust say what you mean, Red. I抦 not a fucking mind reader.?
She chews on her bottom lip. 揑 want to sleep with you. I don抰 want it to change things.?
揅hange them from what? Not talking in New York??
揊rom厰 She shakes her head. 揘ever mind.?
I make the first move. I erase the space between us and press my palm against her waist, guiding her against me.
She makes the second. Her hands run up my arms and shoulders before sliding in my hair. 揓ust warn me, okay??she whispers. 揥arn me it抯 going to end. I抣l be fine, as long as I have a warning.?
揥hat the hell are you talking about??
Scarlett doesn抰 answer. She kisses me. Heady and deep and arousing. The sort of kiss that can be the main event. I could kiss her for hours. Memorize exactly how it feels, how she tastes, the little sounds she makes, and it still wouldn抰 be enough.
But I realize this won抰 be the main event when her hand slides south. Before I can think, much less react, she抯 fisting my cock. And I抦 done. I won抰 be the one stopping this. The brakes aren抰 working. I want her. I抳e wanted her for so long it抯 hard to remember a time when I didn抰。
She makes quick work of my boxers, and I tug off the silk that barely covers her. I抦 not thinking clearly, but I抦 aware enough to realize this doesn抰 have to happen in the kitchen. I haul her up against my body, and her legs wrap around my waist. Maneuvering through the dark house while carrying her isn抰 easy, but I manage.
I toss her down on the bed, in the midst of tangled sheets that suggest tossing and turning. 揅ouldn抰 sleep??
揝top talking.?Her hand grips my hair as she steers me back to her lips.
I want to savor this: her feel, her taste, the sight of her spread beneath me. But it抯 dark in here, meaning I can抰 see much more than her shape. I haven抰 had sex in months, which isn抰 helping matters.
Scarlett isn抰 exactly slowing things down. She writhes beneath me until the tip of my cock slides through her wet heat. Her hips rise, teasing me. Pressing us closer together. Fingernails dig into my back. My name breaks the silence in a ragged moan.
I start to sink inside her and realize what feels different.
I pull away, trying to remember where I left my luggage.
揇on抰 stop.?Her voice is unlike I抳e ever heard it. Desperate. The vocal equivalent of stepping in someone抯 way.
揑 need a condom.?
揘o, you don抰。？
It抯 not the response I抦 expecting. We haven抰 discussed birth control or kids梐side from her saying she isn抰 ready to have them. Not to mention, there抯 the surgeon she抯 supposedly screwing. I抦 clean, but she doesn抰 know that. All things we抣l need to discuss eventually, but not right now.
Her answer is reckless and irresponsible, neither of which are adjectives I抎 normally use to describe Scarlett.
My shock must show on my face. Abruptly, she drops her hands from my back, lying on the white sheet like she抯 about to make a snow angel. Open, but not vulnerable. 揊orget it. Get one.?