Oh hell, who was she kidding? She’d like him with a full wig or bald. Naked or dressed. Though at the moment she certainly preferred him one way over the other.
“You’re not my Tim Robbins,” she said in a small voice, well aware she was fighting a losing battle. Again. Why did she even bother when she knew how good it would feel to give in?
She licked her lips as her gaze drifted over his loose navy T-shirt half-tucked into skintight black jeans. The man wore denim well. He wore everything well.
No one else needs to know what happens here between us.
That sounded better all the time.
“Never said I was. Though Susan Sarandon’s pretty hot, so I don’t blame him for going there. Sucks they broke up though.” He held up a hand when she started to speak, his eyes narrowing. “If you say they split because she’s old, I’ll take you across my knee and—”
“What?” she asked breathlessly after he fell silent.
He expelled a breath. “You piss me off, you know that?”
“I didn’t know you ever got pissed off.” Because the urge to crawl into his lap was growing by the millisecond, she forced herself to kick off the sheet and roll out of bed.
“Get back here,” he said in little more than a growl.
His deep voice skated over her skin, the erotic potential in his demand tightening her nipples. “Or what?” She shot him an arch look before she headed into the attached bathroom to face herself in the mirror.
When she had, she wished she hadn’t. “Oh my God.”
“What?” He was up and in the doorway in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
“Look at me.” Leaning forward, she tugged at the gaping neckline of her nightgown. He’d never tied it back up again. “I’m a mess.”
“Didn’t notice.”
“Right.” Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste. She waited for him to leave, but he didn’t move from the doorway. “Mind?”
“Uncomfortable with me here?”
She shrugged and uncapped the toothpaste. “Suit yourself.”
He wandered over to the basket of fancy soaps and bottles of body wash she had on the shelf in the shower. “You use all this stuff?” he asked, sorting through her collection.
“Most of it. Some only on special occasions.” She loaded up her toothbrush and turned on the water. If he wouldn’t leave, she’d try to be as discreet as possible.
Once she’d finished, she put away the toothpaste and sighed as he continued to pick through her belongings. It would?
??ve been almost cute, if she didn’t feel completely grungy and incapable of dealing with company. Though he technically wasn’t, because she lived with him, and he already knew parts of her pretty damn well.
She flushed and glanced away. Enough thoughts about that.
“Which are for special occasions?”
“The honeysuckle ones.”
“Why?”
“They’re really expensive. I buy a new product in the line whenever I’m celebrating something big. Graduation from my doctoral program, when I moved here, my new job at the sanctuary. They commemorate big changes in my life.”
“Kind of like my torque wrenches.” He shot her a grin over his shoulder and set down the pink poufy sponge he’d been toying with. “Although a good month financially is sometimes a big enough reason for me to get one. The guys at the shop love them and hell, why not? What good is money if you never live a little?”
He made an excellent point. What good was anything if you didn’t enjoy life? If you didn’t say to hell with it every once in a while and go for something crazy and wild because you could?
Because it felt so damn right?