“What?” he said, turning on the bar stool to face her. “I like them.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
He grinned at her. “You enjoyed them well enough last night.”
About last night, she wanted to say. Did you kiss me? I think you kissed me. I think you bit my lip. She touched her lip without thinking, right where she’d dreamed he’d bitten her, and she felt a little twinge of soreness. Steve sobered, looking down at his plate.
“Nothing happened, in case you don’t remember,” he said after a moment. “I mean, nothing serious.”
“You kissed me.” She wished she didn’t sound so accusatory. “I didn’t mind. I mean, I don’t mind. I just… I remember it.”
His gaze held hers. “I remember it too.”
“I thought maybe it was a dream.”
He stared at her, then leaned forward and paused, his lips half an inch from hers. “It wasn’t a dream.”
“Oh, wow. So we kissed then…” She tilted her head, an invitation. Kiss me again, now, when I can remember it. Please kiss me.
“Damn,” he muttered. “I don’t want to do this with you. It’s probably better if I don’t.”
Even as he said it, he moved closer. She couldn’t be patient anymore, and made the last tentative movement, pressing her mouth to his and sighing against his lips.
The response was immediate—and forceful. It was the same kiss from her dream, firm, warm, powerful, possessive. She reached for his shoulders as she lost her balance and almost fell off his counter-height stool. He shoved his knee between hers to steady her as his lips forced her mouth wider. His fingers twisted in her hair, traced down her jawline to her neck, and then—
He pushed away, shaking his head. “No, I can’t. You don’t want me this way, do you? We’re friends. I’m the one who looks out for you.”
I do want you this way, she thought. God help me, you’re so big and beautiful. “If you’re not comfortable with it,” she said, “I guess we should just leave each other alone.”
They were so close. His eyes bored into hers. “It’s not that I want to leave you alone. Jesus.”
“I don’t understand.”
He sighed. “Remember last night, when you kept asking about my fetishes?” He came back at her, placing his hand around her neck, not hard, but enough for her to feel it. “I like rough sex, Ruby, and you’re a little slip of a thing, and I don’t want to hurt you by accident, even if you threw yourself at me last night and almost sent me over the edge.”
She swallowed against his palm and he drew away again, like she’d burned him.
“What do you mean, rough sex?” she asked. “What does that mean?”
“What do you mean, what does it mean? It’s self-explanatory.”
“But it’s the fun kind of rough, right? You don’t hurt women. Do you?” She couldn’t picture that, couldn’t imagine teddy bear Steve getting cruel in bed. She stared at his hands, and his thighs beside hers.
“No, I don’t hurt them.” He blew out a breath, flustered. “I’m just…rough. This probably sounds twisted, but I like to hold women down, to choke them, maybe even slap them. Just pretend,” he added quickly. “I don’t do any of it for real.”
Ruby sobered, watching her friend’s face. He avoided her gaze.
“You feel guilty about it?” she asked. “Guilty that you like that?”
He paused, which meant yes. Then he said, “It’s not what most women are looking for. I mean, I can have gentle, sweet sex. I just don’t like that as much.”
“What appeals to you about being rough, rather than gentle?” she asked, wanting to understand what it all meant. “It’s the intensity of it?”
He looked back at her, surprised. “Yes. That’s exactly what it is. How did you know that?”
“That’s what would make me excited in a situation like that. But I’d probably find it kind of scary, too. You know, not knowing how intense things might get…”
“I wouldn’t hurt you.”
As soon as he said it, he backtracked.
“I mean, I wouldn’t hurt a woman. Or you, if it was you. But it definitely shouldn’t be you because you might not like it, and we’ve been friends all this time. You probably wouldn’t like having sex with me, and then there’d be this awkward memory between us, where you wish you’d never known that side of me.” He let out a breath. “Holy hell, why did I tell you all this?”
“Because we’re friends. Because we’ve been friends all this time.” She leaned over and hugged him. “You have blown my mind,” she said. “I’m just…my mind is racing.”
“Don’t let it. I’m not sleeping with you. But at least now you know why I can’t. Why I won’t. You were pretty persistent last night, but I didn’t give in because a) you were drunk, and b) you wouldn’t have known what you were getting into.”