She hid her grin. She really had been petting him shamelessly while she read. He grabbed the book from her hand and tossed it on the nightstand.
“I’ll never get through that damn romantic book,” he said, reaching for her. His fingers twitched at her ribs, tickling her. She giggled and squirmed against him. “And it’s your own damn fault. You’re supposed to be teaching me to appreciate it. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
He dug his fingers deeper and she snorted with laughter. He grinned wider at the sound. She poked between his ribs in payback, and for a moment, they engaged in a tense, exciting tussle.
After a moment, she gave up and encircled his neck with her arms, bringing his mouth an inch within her own.
“Give up?” he asked her with a cocky, sultry stare.
She pressed tight against him. He was so hard. It felt wonderful.
“Not really,” she sighed in pleasure when his opened hand went beneath the shirt she wore to stroke her naked hip and ass, all signs of teasing vanished. She arched against him, so hungry for his heat. “It’s just that I agree. Who needs fiction when the real thing is so close at hand?” she asked softly just before his mouth captured hers.
SEVENTEEN
She made omelets for them for breakfast. Trey did his part by making toast and coffee. After eating, they spent a lazy morning lounging in bed, watching television and making love. Every new thing she learned about him she cherished, no matter how small and seemingly inconsequential. He loved Thai, Italian, German and Japanese food. Despite the fact that he added Russian food to his list of favorites after their meal last night, Eleanor was tickled to discover that just the mention of caviar made him look like he was going to throw up.
When he was in college, he played in a cover rock band with drummer Adam Keyes, who later became a member of the bestselling band Commuter Toss. Adam Keyes was also a computer science major who shared Trey’s fascination with online culture. He’d been a big influence in helping him develop BandBook, and BandBook, in turn, had been instrumental in sending Adam and his group to the top of the charts.
Even as a kid, his interests had been diversified. He was a devotee of both American and British football. He could ride a horse by the time he was seven and had started driving a combine when he was only thirteen. He was the only kid in high school who was on the football and soccer teams, a member of Future Farmers of America, the technology club and a newly created jazz band. After growing so frazzled his senior year with all his schoolwork, his social life and helping his dad on the farm, his advisor suggested quitting one or two extracurricular activities.
“Did you end up quitting something?” Eleanor asked him as they lay entwined together in bed. She loved listening to the sound of his deep voice rumbling up to her ear while she pressed it against his chest.
“Yeah, dating.” She lifted her head and gave him a stunned look. “Only for a few months, just before and during final exams. I had a scholarship I didn’t want to lose.” She arched her brows. He eyed her suspiciously. “Oh, I get it. I know what you’re thinking. That the precedent goes way back, is that it?”
“Relationships with women were the first to go, even back then. We were the first to be lopped off the list of importance,” she murmured.
She’d been teasing him a little, so she was a little shocked when he grew so sober. “You’re right,” he said. “I never really thought about that before.”
“Why do you think females were the most expendable thing?”
He thought about it for a few seconds. “I don’t think it’s fair to say it globally about all females.”
“Really?”
“Really. Janice Hoffman, the girl I was dating my senior year, made the bottom of the list. That’s not the same as saying every woman does. Is it?”
“Nooo,” she agreed slowly.
“There’s definitely a but in that no, Eleanor.”
She smiled. “It just strikes me that you often describe the women you date as high maintenance. Maybe you consider relationships work instead of fun, just another project on your to-do list. Isn’t it possible that if you see relationships that way, you might attract the type of woman who fits that pattern?”
“What are you? An amateur psychologist?” he asked her, raking his fingers through her hair and scratching her scalp. Her eyes fluttered closed and she moaned in pleasure.
“That’s a pretty good description of a psychologist’s daughter. I just think relationships and sex and romance should be a lot more lighthearted than you envision them, that’s all.”
“More fun?” he growled softly, planting a kiss at the corner of her mouth. He rolled her onto her back and came on top of her.
“Certainly less like an obligatory task,” she teased.
He laughed and flexed his hips, rubbing his growing erection against her belly. She reached for him, scraping her nails against his neck and shoulders. God, she loved the way he felt. Everywhere. She saw that familiar spark in his blue eyes, and knew he enjoyed her touch, as well. He cupped her breast and feathered the nipple with his thumb. Her smile faded.
“There’s no issue with putting you right at the top of my to-do list, Eleanor,” he said gruffly. “Trust me on that.”
He dipped his head to kiss her. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part. But even
though it was seemingly a teasing, sexy type of thing to say while they were in bed, she couldn’t find a trace of amusement on his face when he’d said it.