“You were with your ex.” He didn’t phrase it as a question. He knew she’d been with Levi Hamilton. Damn it, he didn’t even know the guy, but he hated him.
She lifted her head, the shoes she’d clutched dropping to the floor with a soft clatter. Shock etched across her features as she folded her arms in front of her chest, plumping up her breasts. Yeah, he noticed. Even when he was frustrated with her he couldn’t help but check out her tits. “You’re right, I was with him earlier. We, uh, went to coffee and played catch-up. Then I went over to Delilah’s and hung out for a little bit.”
“Did you have a good time strolling down memory lane?” He sounded like a jealous asshole, which was accurate because he felt like a jealous asshole, something he hadn’t experienced since when? High school? That he was jealous over some punk dick who strutted back into town and messed with his ex-girlfriend’s head all for his own selfish needs infuriated him.
“It was . . . ” She hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Weird. And confusing.”
Not the answer he expected. “Why?”
Wren curled her arms tighter around her middle. “Levi said some things that . . . surprised me.”
Tate didn’t want to pull it out of her, but she wasn’t being particularly forthcoming either. If he kept badgering her, it would seem like he cared, and she might misinterpret his questioning.
But if he was being honest with himself, he did care. He cared a lot. Never had he felt this way about a woman before, especially a woman with whom he had a platonic relationship. Yeah, they’d flirted. A lot. He’d felt her up in his bed. Had his mouth on her skin. Kissed her just once. But he still didn’t know what she looked like when she came. Or what his name falling from her lips as she moaned sounded like.
He wanted to know all of those things and a million more when it came to Wren. She held herself back with him, much like he did with everyone. Keeping people at a distance meant they couldn’t really know him.
Wren though. She was a mystery he desperately wanted to figure out.
“I’d bore you with all the details. Nothing’s going on with me and Levi. Trust me.” She dropped her arms and pushed away from the wall with a weary smile. “Besides, I already unloaded enough on Delilah. I should probably let you get your sleep. Good night, Tate.”
She was about to turn and walk into her temporary bedroom when he stepped forward, wrapping his fingers around her upper arm. Pausing, she turned to look at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide, her full lips parted. Her tongue darted out, and she licked at the corner of her mouth, her expression nothing short of nervous and, fuck, still so sexy. He didn’t want her unsure and timid around him. Screw that.
“You can unload on me anytime,” he said, careful to keep his voice even and meaning every word. “Whatever’s bothering you, if you need to talk, I’m here for you. Even if I’m the one who’s bothering you.”
“Well. You do drive me crazy sometimes.” Her smile returned, faintly tipping up the corners of her mouth. God, he couldn’t stop staring at her fucking lips. He wanted them. Wanted to taste and tease, nip and lick and suck.
“I thought so.” He loosened his hold on her arm, skimming his thumb across her skin in a gentle caress. Goose bumps formed, and the tiniest shiver moved through her. “Do you realize I haven’t
even really kissed you yet? Why? What the hell is wrong with us?”
She gaped at him. Yeah, Wren needed to know he had zero plans on giving up. He wasn’t even close to being finished with her. What if that asshole Hamilton was trying to get her back? Fuck that. The jackass needed to go back to the big city where he belonged and leave Wren alone.
Leave Wren for him.
“You kissed me at the lake.”
“One kiss is not enough,” he murmured.
“Oh. You’re, um, probably right.” Her voice was shaky, her gaze dropping to his lips. As if she wanted them on hers. He stepped closer, his body brushing against hers, forcing her to flatten herself against the wall. Her hair and her skirt rustled with the movement, and her breasts rose and fell with each hurried breath. All he could hear was the sound of their accelerated breathing in the otherwise quiet of the house, the tick of the clock that hung in his kitchen. He slid his hand down her bare arm, his fingers ghosting along her skin. “We should probably try it again. You know, see if we’re compatible,” she whispered.
“I’m fairly certain we’re beyond compatible,” he murmured, touching her face, his fingers drifting over her cheek, thumb streaking across her plump lower lip. Her lids fluttered, a gust of warm air caressing his hand, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. “I missed you tonight, Dove.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing his gaze to zero in on her chest, the hint of cleavage exposed. The top of her dress dipped just low enough to tease, and his mouth watered at all that pretty, smooth skin on display. “You should’ve texted me.”
“I thought you were coming home earlier.” He touched her neck, slid his index finger down, down, until he was tracing the neckline of her dress, touching the spot where skin met material. “My feelings for you confuse the hell out of me.”
He lifted his gaze and studied her face, the way her delicate brows drew down at his admission, her tongue sneaking out for another quick lick. Lord help him, the woman was driving him crazy.
“I don’t want to come on too strong,” he confessed when she still hadn’t said anything. “But I’m not going to let you slip through my fingers either.”
Her eyes opened slowly, her slightly dazed blue eyes staring into his. “You’ve never shown much restraint around me until now.”
Chuckling, he dipped his finger beneath the dress’s neckline, touching warm, soft skin, the snug valley between her breasts. She sucked in a harsh breath, goose bumps chasing after his touch. “Suddenly feels like everything’s on the line, you know?”
“Really?” She sounded surprised. Didn’t she see? He wanted her. He’d never done anything like this before, but if he had to fight for her then . . . he would.
The realization was startling. He’d never had to fight for a woman. Ever.