“This is absurd. Knock it off.”
“Why? You want me, right? You aren’t going to leave me alone until you have me. So let’s just get it over with,” she said as she leaned against him.
“As much as I want you in my bed, I’m not taking advantage of you now.”
She turned more quickly than he thought possible in her inebriated state, suddenly straddling his lap and pressing down against the part of him that was throbbing in agony.
Honor. Why in the hell did he have to feel it? This was what both of them wanted — needed. But instead of kissing her as his lower brain told him to, he stood up with her in his arms.
“What’s the matter, Tyler? Are you not actually man enough to go for it now that I’m offering it?” she asked.
“We can’t do this.” He could barely speak through the frustration. Was this his fate with this woman?
“Are you not turned on when a woman becomes forward?” she taunted, acting perfectly content to lie against his chest as he held her close to his body.
He grabbed her chin and made sure she was focused on him. “This is not a game,” he said slowly before leaning in and kissing her mouth roughly to get his point across. “I want you and I will have you. Just not at this moment. You won’t be able to blame alcohol the morning after.” Tyler growled as he reminded himself that patience was a virtue.
“Your loss,” she slurred.
“You can sleep here tonight. If you still feel the same way in the morning, we’ll talk then,” he told her as he began walking through his house and quickly made his way up the wide staircase to the second floor. He automatically turned into his own bedroom.
“I don’t want to sleep here,” she murmured, but her eyes were closing.
“Tough! This conversation isn’t finished, but you need to be sober first.”
He laid her down and she looked as if she were struggling to open her eyes, but within a minute, she gave up the battle and he groaned again when he realized she had already passed out. Even if he had taken her up on her offer, she wouldn’t have lasted long enough for them to make love. And he wasn’t the type to resort to the human equivalent of a blow-up doll.
She obviously didn’t handle her liquor too well.
After pacing his room for several passes, he moved back over to her and removed her shoes and trousers. The sight of her barely there silky black panties sent a new surge of pain through his body.
She needed water, and he needed a break from looking at her to try to give himself time to get his libido under control.
He left the room, practically limping from the bulge in his pants. When he returned, she hadn’t budged an inch. He woke her long enough to make her drink the glass of water, and then she passed out again.
Sleeping wasn’t going to be nearly as easy for him.
Why did he have to torture himself even further? Obviously because he couldn’t help it. He lay down on top of the covers — climbing in beneath them with her half-bare body would have proved fatal. When he put his arms around her, she instantly snuggled against him once more.
As he held her against him he reminded himself that this was just a basic bodily need, that she could be any woman. But as his body pulsed, and his heart thudded, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, it was only this woman who he wanted.
That certainly couldn’t be true. Because if it was, he was surely damned.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Light was creeping in through the gap in the curtain when Elena’s brain started to reach daytime speed. She was fighting to remember. Where was she? How had the night ended? How had she made it to bed?
Her body stilled. Feeling a foreign weight on her stomach, she looked down and saw Tyler’s arm. Then she glanced over, directly into his eyes.
Damn, that was a powerful way to wake up.
“Good morning, Elena.”
That was all he said, and yet his words still traveled through her blood and straight to her core. Desire, pure and strong, ran through her hot and heavy.
“Do you have nothing to say?” he asked, turning them both so they were face to face, his arm around her, his hand running up and down her back.
“Where are we?” she croaked.
“In my bed,” he replied.
The pulsing of her heart sped even higher.
“Why am I in your bed?” She didn’t so much as move a pinky finger.
“Because you got drunk last night, threw yourself at me, and then passed out.” All the while he spoke, he was stroking her back with his hand.
“I see.” She wished she could forget the night before, but she couldn’t. Everything flashed through her mind.
“Have you changed your mind, Elena?” he asked, pushing her tousled hair away from her eyes.
She felt exposed, excited, and unsure of what to do next.
“You won’t quit pursuing me until we’ve had sex; will you?” she whispered.
He froze beside her, and his hand stopped running through her hair.
“I’m not a rapist, Elena.” The barely leashed fury in his voice told her to proceed with caution, though she wasn’t afraid of him. She was afraid of herself.
“I know that,” she said. “But you definitely go after what you want.”
“Yes, I do. I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” he told her.
“And you’ve decided you want me, so there’s no stopping you.” Did she really want him to stop? Lying in his arms didn’t feel at all unpleasant. Could she hate him and desire him at the same time? This was something she’d asked herself before. Evidently she could, so it was decided.