“You and me. Nothing serious. You’re not into hook-ups and that’s cool, but I just thought maybe for tonight we could be friends with…benefits.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, old fears burst like a damn and my entire body stiffens. Rider’s hand instantly stills on my body.
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Rider,” I say, and spin around. Deep gray eyes meet mine, and the desire I see reflected there does the strangest things to me. Before I can help myself, I blurt out, “I’m not very good at this.”
He frowns, and angles his head. “Good at what?” I look down, but his rough thumb captures my chin and lifts it until we’re eye to eye. “What is it, Jules?”
The genuine concern in his voice gives me the courage to go on. “This…” I say, and wave my hand back and forth between the two of us.
“Being friends?” he asks, his brow furrowed.
“I’m not explaining this right,” I say, finding it hard to think with clarity as his heat envelopes me.
“Hey,” he says. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to do this, it’s fine. We’re still friends. We can eat grilled cheese and watch a movie.”
My heart misses a beat. I totally love how sweet and thoughtful he is, and that he’s putting zero pressure on me. His words wrap me in a blanket of comfort and safety, and that’s something I’ve not experienced in a very, very long time. Or maybe even ever.
“Jason—”
“Wait, who?” he asks and backs up. I reach for his hand, pull him back to me.
“He’s my ex.” Rider relaxes, and his body bumps mine as I tug him closer. “He was kind of a jerk.”
“Is that who you were talking about at the bar?”
“Yeah. He sort of did a number on me.” I give a fast shake of my head. “I have no idea why I’m telling you this.” I blink up at him. “Actually, I do.” I want him to know he’s suggesting sex with a woman who can’t let go—can’t orgasm.
“I’m listening.”
“He…he basically said I was bad at sex.”
Rider curses under his breath. “Where does he live?”
Wow, who knew this man would be so territorial, or that I’d love that about him? I laugh, but it comes out rough around the edges, heavily saturated with arousal. “While I appreciate the gesture, I’m over him.”
Those astute gray eyes study me. “Actually, I don’t think you are.”
“No, I am.” I blink rapidly and nod in an effort to convince him. “Really. I promise.”
“No, Jules. What I mean is you’re not over what he said to you. Give me a chance I’ll fix it.”
“Fix what?”
He slides a hand around my waist and tugs me against him, hard. I might be a strong, independent woman, but this alpha act and how damp it’s making my panties doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I can guarantee you the problem was his, not yours.”
I bite my lip, and shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. Look, I just…I have a hard time relaxing and giving up control, you know.”
His eyebrow shoots up. “Because of Jason—”
“No,” I say flatly and don’t elaborate. Jason shattered my confidence in the bedroom, but he wasn’t wrong. I do hold back. I don’t fully let go. But that stems from my first love—my first loss—Brett. I slam the doors on those memories, not wanting them to invade and break this intimate moment between us.
His eyes move over my face, and I see many questions lingering there. “You don’t have to tell me who hurt you, or why you’re guarded. It’s okay. That’s your business. But…” He places his palm on my cheek, his fingers so warm against my skin. “I can build a safe place for you in the bedroom, a place where you can feel free to let go, no judgement, just
acceptance, if that’s what you want.”