23
" With her hands still fisted in his shirt, she gave a gentle tug until he bent enough that she could kiss him softly. And then not so softly.
“What was that for?” he asked when she pulled free, his voice sexy low and gruff now.
“For being the kind of guy who can admit he has emotions.”
He cupped her face. “We don’t have to tell anyone, right?”
She smiled. “It’ll be our secret.” But then her smile faded because she wasn’t good at secrets.
Or maybe she was too good at them . . . “I’m not helpless,” she said. “I want you to know that.”
“I do know it.” He paused, looking a little irritated again. “Mostly.”
“Good,” she said. “Now that’s settled, you should know, the caveman thing you just pulled . . . it turned me on a little bit.”
He slid her a look. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Looking a little less like he was spoiling for a fight, his hands went to her hips and he pulled her in tighter.
What the hell was she doing? Clearly, she wasn’t equipped to stay strong, and who could? The guy was just too damn potent. Too visceral. Testosterone and pheromones leaked off of him. She dropped her head to his chest. “Ugh. You’re being . . . you.”
“Was that in English?”
“This is all your fault.”
“Nope. Definitely not English.”
“You’re being all hot and sexy, dammit,” she said. She banged her head on his chest a few times. “And I can’t seem to . . . not notice said hotness and sexiness.”
He smiled. “You want me again.”
Again. Still . . . She tossed up her hands. “You wear your stupid sexiness on your sleeve and you don’t even know it. "
― Jill Shalvis , Sweet Little Lies (Heartbreaker Bay, #1)
28
" You stopped,” she whispered, looking surprised.
“This isn’t the place,” he replied.
For a moment her face showed no change of expression. Then, almost as if someone were pulling a shade over her face, horror dawned. It started in her eyes, which grew impossibly round and somehow even more green than usual, then it reached her mouth, her lips parting as a gasp of air rushed in.
“I didn’t think,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
“I know.” He smiled. “I know. I hate it when you think. It always ends badly for me.”
“We can’t do this again.”
“We certainly can’t do it here.”
“No, I mean—”
“You’re spoiling it.”
“But—”
“Humor me,” he said, “and let me believe the afternoon ended without your telling me this will never happen again.”
“But—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “You’re not humoring me.”
“But—”
“Don’t I deserve this one little fantasy?”
At last, he broke through. She smiled.
“Good,” he said. “That’s more like it.”
Her lips quivered, then, amazingly, her smile grew.
“Excellent,” he murmured. “Now then, I’m going to leave. And you have only one task while I go. You will stay right here, and you will keep smiling. Because it breaks my heart to see any other expression on your face.”
“You won’t be able to see me,” she pointed out.
He touched her chin. “I’ll know.”
And then, before her expression could change from that enchanting combination of shock and adoration, he left.
-Sophie & Benedict "
― Julia Quinn , An Offer From a Gentleman (Bridgertons, #3)
