The Driven Snowe (6 page)

“I just want to talk with you, if you're amenable,” he began carefully. He continued to lead her over to where some couches had been pushed pell-mell. He was in luck—no one else was hiding out in the deserted area. “To start, I wanted to apologize for our conversation on Monday.”

Her eyes widened…he clearly had her attention. Now he just had to see how long he could keep it.

“You've got no reason to apologize,” she said, with obvious surprise. “I've already told you…I can't thank you enough.”

“You shouldn't thank me, Angela. I should be thanking you.” They sat down on one of the couches. He noticed she sat as far away from him as possible, and stiffened slightly when he moved a little closer. “Friday night was incredible.”

She smiled, her doe eyes large and thoughtful. “I know.” She seemed to sit up straighter. “I appreciated your help, believe me.”

He laughed. She made it sound as if he'd helped her do her taxes. “So I guess you had a good time?” He lowered his voice, leaning even closer. “I didn't hurt you too much?”

“Oh, no,” she assured him, also lowering her voice and moving closer toward him, as he'd planned.

“Since I didn't have time to ask you the next day,” he said, “I worried.”

Her gaze warmed, and she put a consoling hand on his arm. “You didn't hurt me at all,” she repeated. “At
least, not really. It hurt a little, at first, but then…” He saw her eyes dilate, and her pulse beat a little harder in her throat. She stared at him for a second. It was all he could do not to yank her in his arms and kiss her senseless right there. “Then it didn't,” she murmured.

“I should have asked you that on Monday, but I was too wrapped up in the fact that you left without a word. And more than that, I really wanted to see you again. I just approached it all wrong.” He studied her. “Or was I all wrong, period? Would you really rather not make love to me again?”

She nibbled on her pouty lower lip, a gesture that almost had him groaning. “It's…complicated.”

He grinned. “It almost always is.”

She glanced around, probably wondering if her friends were watching. Then she leaned as close to him as she could. He could smell her perfume. He'd been smelling it on the pillow she'd used since she left. He blamed the amazingly vivid dreams he'd been having on that fact and refused to do anything about it. “I…it's just the fact that I haven't done—
that
—before,” she said slowly. He wondered if she was trying to convince him, or herself. “So it's natural that it will take time to get used to all this.”

“‘All this' being what?”

She swallowed hard. “Wanting you,” she said. His body tensed at the words.

“You could maybe get used to it gradually…” he suggested, but she interrupted him.

“The thing is, I know it's just my body doing all the thinking, and if I don't get a grip on it now…who knows what it's going to convince me to do.”

He didn't think that sounded like that terrible a
demise. Abruptly, he realized the whole reason he was on this quest to convince Angela was a result of his body—at least at first. Now, he didn't want to think about exactly why he was doing what he was doing. “I actually can understand that,” he said. “Still, I think you're making a little mistake here.”

Her eyes widened, obviously insulted. “Okay. Maybe not
mistake,
” he corrected. “Just…a little flawed reasoning. You're afraid that if you and I enjoyed some more time together, that we would get involved.”

“That about sums it up.”

“Are we involved now?”

She looked at him, warily. “I don't think so.”

“It wouldn't be much different, Angela. In fact, I think that spending more time with me would make it easier to get used to what your body is putting you through. It's like…” He racked his brain for an analogy that would convince her. “It's like dieting.”

She smirked at him. “Is it?”

“If you deprive yourself, you're going to just lose it and binge,” he said. “Better to let yourself have what you're craving—have
exactly
what you're craving,” he said, and smiled to himself as he saw her eye his body, then quickly look away. “Otherwise, you'll wind up indulging in other areas, and be unhappy and unsatisfied.”

He could see that her body desperately wanted to go along with his reasoning, but her deep brown eyes were still clinging to the logic she'd started with. “I can understand your point,” she said seriously, “but I don't think you can separate what we've done from the possibility of having a relationship.”

He always had in the past…but now wouldn't be a
good time to make that point. He tried changing tacks instead. “Why don't you want to be in a relationship?”

“I have a lot of things I want to do, and see, and experience. I don't want to get that all clouded up because I'm involved with somebody. From what I've seen, and from what all my women friends have told me, men are simply too…distracting. Actually, the term they use is ‘high maintenance.' If you're in a relationship, that usually takes precedence over everything else, and I have too much to do to get bogged down that way.” She glanced at him curiously. “I'd suspect men feel the same way. Isn't that why you haven't really had relationships?”

“I would rather say I just haven't found somebody I can be happy with.”

She squinted at him, then shrugged. “Well, that's my reasoning.”

He wasn't getting anywhere with this logical debate. His body was starting to “distract” him even as she made her argument in her clear, schoolteacher tone. He didn't want to reason with her. He wanted to…

Maybe that's what I've been doing wrong.
His body wholeheartedly agreed with him.

“I won't argue with you. But we do have one problem.” He stroked her thigh with a gentle, barely there touch. “Do you honestly think that one night was enough?”

He heard her catch her breath as he moved forward slowly, giving her ample time to stop him, to tell him no. To his intense relief, she didn't…she simply stared at him with those deep, soulful eyes. He nibbled at her earlobe, feeling satisfied as she gradually pressed herself against him, putting her hands up against his shoulders.

“A good experiment takes place over an extended
period of time,” he pointed out, kissing her neck as she clutched at his back and her breathing shallowed. He lifted his head, brushing teasing caresses against her cheeks, along her jawline, down her neck. “You don't want to get involved. I can respect that. But I really think you're not giving yourself enough of a chance to fully enjoy the experience.”

They were in a dark corner—away from everyone. The pounding beat showed that the DJ was mixing full force, and no one was coming back to this empty part of the dance floor. “Allow me to demonstrate,” he said, tugging her gently onto his lap, straddling him.

Her pupils had dilated further, making her dark brown eyes seem black. He noticed this as he held her there, poised over his erection, just staring at her as she settled breathlessly. She had to feel it, pressing hard at the junction of her thighs, against those jeans that fit her body like a second skin.

He didn't even have to nudge her. He just stared, as she shivered slightly, and he felt her body move against him, her thighs clenching enough to make him push up to meet her. He watched as she took a deep breath, and moved her head down to meet him with an “I-can't-believe-I'm-doing-this” expression.

Her kiss was surprisingly gentle for the fire he'd seen in her eyes. She started just touching velvet-soft lips to his, parting slightly, moving in that slow searching way that made him feel every movement of the muscles in her mouth. It was maddening. He wasn't sure how, but just by a slow kiss she made him wonder what it would feel like to have that gentle, moist suction over every inch of his body. His erection tensed.

He couldn't take it anymore. He teased her lips with
his tongue, and the kiss exploded. She was breathing hard, meeting him stroke for stroke. She tore away to mimic him and worked on his neck. He'd never thought himself particularly vulnerable to that sort of pressure, but the feeling of it was enough to almost push him over the edge. Her hips…the rhythm she'd displayed on the dance floor was no joke. She was grinding against him in a seductive sway that was mind-blowing. He stroked her breasts, rubbing the nipples through the thin cotton fabric of her tank top. He heard her gasp as she pressed herself farther into the cups of his hands, and made out the mewling little cries of pleasure he'd reveled in when he made love to her before.

If this kept up, he was going to take her, right here in this dance club. It wasn't the place or the time. He had to get a grip.

With more control than he thought he possessed, with more willpower than he'd ever
needed
to use before in his life, he nudged her back. To his surprise, he was breathing hard himself. She growled in frustration, something he found unreasonably sexy.

“Like I said,” he whispered, panting, “there's more to this than just one night.”

“I don't want a relationship,” she repeated, although he could feel the wave of attraction flowing between them. “But I still want you. So where does that leave us?”

He frowned. There was no way he was going to lose this woman. “How about a contract, of sorts?”

She laughed abruptly. He loved the sound of her laugh. “Didn't you get insulted last time when you thought I'd offered to pay you?”

He laughed with her. “I don't mean that kind of
contract. I meant an agreement, a clear definition of what we're doing before we do anything.” He smiled, stroking a hand over her hair. “I just want you to feel comfortable, Angela. No pressure, no regrets. And I'll make sure you enjoy every single minute.”

She eyed him warily. “You're not serious about this.”

If he thought it would get him closer to her, he'd sign his name in blood. He threaded his hand in her hair and tugged her down for a quick, searing kiss. “Did that feel like I was joking?” he asked.

She shook her head, her eyes looking a little wild…a woman at war with herself. “How will I know that we won't get involved?” she said, in a small voice. “I don't know, Josh. This is all so sudden. I just want you so much. I'm not thinking. I can't think.”

He needed to keep her in that state. At least until he could convince her that this was the right thing, for both of them. He needed to show her that she wouldn't be trapped by him, of all men. “I don't have a track record with relationships,” he pointed out, hoping to reassure her.

Her eyes narrowed. “But you
do
have a track record,” she said slowly.

He hadn't even been thinking of other women, so her statement caught him off guard. “Yes, I do. I can't pretend that I don't, Angela.”

“Yes, but how will I know that you aren't…” She trailed off, staring at him, obviously hoping he'd understand.

It took him a second, then he sighed. “No. If you decide to, ah, spend time with me, I promise I won't be spending time with any other women. If you knew me,
you'd know you wouldn't have to worry…but then, you don't know me, do you?” He thought for a moment. “I said it'd be like a contract. Let's make it semi-official then.”

“You want to run this by a lawyer?”

He chuckled. “No. I mean, we can set a time limit, and I promise that during that set limit, I won't see any other women. And after that set limit, we call it quits. No harm, no foul, no regrets.” He looked at her meaningfully. “Unless, of course, we agree to extend the bargain.”

She bit her lip. “I…I don't know. This is all so fast. And it's strange. It's like something out of a movie.”

“I know,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers. She moved to press a satin-soft kiss against his temple, and he felt a tremor that wasn't purely sexual hit him in the gut. “Clubs are always sort of unreal…and the way I met you was practically alien. Maybe this is dumb. All I know is, I want you, and I want this.”

She pulled back enough to look at him, then kissed him…one of the sweetest kisses of his life. “A month.” Her voice quavered. “I think I could handle a month.”

“A year.”

She pulled back a little more. “Are we…bargaining?”

“Like I said, it's a contract.” He grinned at her shock. “I'm a tough negotiator. Ask anybody.”

He held his breath, waiting for her reaction. To his relief, she smiled slowly, moving back to him again. “Two months,” she said, her voice holding a hint of challenge.

He stroked her cheek. “What say we just split the difference, and go for six?”

She stayed quiet for a long time, and Josh suddenly wondered if he'd blown it for good.

“That Friday night…” She took a deep, shuddering breath, and for a brief moment, Josh ignored his need to ravish her. The shadows in her eyes, the clenched tension of her body, all made him want to just hold her until her fear subsided. She might categorize it as concern or reasonable apprehension, but it was obviously fear. “It was a wonderful blur. I had an agenda. I can still barely believe it really happened.”

He waited while she paused, then finally whispered, “So what are you saying, Angela?”

“Convince me,” she blurted out, her hair tumbling over one shoulder. “I mean…I'll see you one more time. If it seems like I can…handle that, then I'll agree to six months.”

He kissed her, relishing the way she clung to him. Tonight wasn't going to be that night—at least, not from her point of view. Still, it was a window. He could work around it, maybe…

“If that's what it takes,” he said.

She smiled…a smile so sweet, that the suggestion that they make tonight her trial run froze in his throat. “So when would you like to do this?” he asked instead.