"Tempting?" he repeated, but was answered with only silence.
"Hannah?"
"I didn't mean to say that."
"Oh." He considered that, then found himself smiling. "I'm flattered."
"We've already established you're a hottie. Don't think you can go back to that well."
He bit back a laugh. "Fair enough." He shifted, then stiffened when her back brushed up against his. He closed his eyes, fighting for control.
"Small bed," she said, increasing the distance.
"Very." He cleared his throat.
She shifted again, and this time her foot rubbed his calf.
"You're doing that on purpose."
"Doing what to you?"
"I didn't say you were doing anything to me. I said you were doing that."
"But am I doing something to you?" Her voice was so low he could barely hear it, and when he did, he felt himself go even harder.
"Hannah..."
"I know. I'm sorry. It's just..." She rolled over, and he felt her breath against the back of his neck as her hand rested on his hip. "Well, it's just that I'm not interested in a relationship or any of the stuff we're pretending to be. But that doesn't mean I don't want you."
He closed his eyes. He should say no. He should slide away.
He should grab a blanket and sleep on the floor.
Instead he said, "What do you want?"
"Only tonight," she said. "We could call it method acting."
He swallowed the sudden lump that grew in his throat. "You're wearing barely nothing and you're pressed up to me in bed. If you don't mean what you're suggesting, you need to scoot away and not tease a man like that."
"Like this?" She slid her palm along his hip, up higher until her hand was under his shirt, and the heat of her palm against his skin was burning through him.
Slowly--wickedly, enticingly slowly--she moved her hand to his lower abs. Her body moved too, because she had to close the distance. Which meant that by the time her fingers had slipped under the band of his boxers, her entire body was spooned against him. Her chest to his back, her sex against his ass. Her breath against his shoulders.
He closed his eyes, striving for control but not finding it. He was hard already, painfully so, and when her hand slipped lower and curled around his shaft, she released a low, throaty gasp of pleasure.
"Tell me I did that. That thinking about me made you hard."
"Baby, you know it did."
"Do you like this?" Her hand was curved around him, and she stroked slowly with just enough pressure to drive him wild."
"God, yes."
"Me, too," she murmured, then shifted behind him, adjusting her position so that her lips teased his shoulder, his neck, his ear. And all the while she was teasing his cock, whispering about how much she wanted him. How much she'd wanted him the whole night.
"When you kissed me, I thought I'd come right then," she said, and that was when he couldn't take it anymore. He reached down to take her hand--mostly to make sure he didn't injure himself--and then rolled onto his back, forcing her to straddle him.
She grinned. "I like this," she said, then pulled off her top and tossed it onto the floor.