Page 39 of Planned Seduction
Focus.
“Not distracted. Just trying to make a point. I can’t see any marks. Not on your shoulder or your knee. I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “They’re not there.”
He said nothing, raising his eyebrow instead.
Damn it, the man knew exactly what she was thinking. But how could he not? Her tongue was still plastered to the floor. “Are you going to stand there dripping all over the carpet? Or are you going to get dressed?”
“That depends. Do you want me to get dressed?”
“What kind of a question is that?”
“You don’t seem particularly eager for me to put my clothes on. In fact”—again with the infuriating dimple—“you seem to have developed a certain affinity for my towel.”
Wrong. If he could just lose the towel, she’d be happy.
No. She wouldn’t.
“What can I say, Dan? I’ve fallen for the towel. I’ve always been a sucker for a good towel.”
Daniel looked surprised. “Well, I tell you what. I’m a nice guy, and I’d hate to get in the way of you getting what you want. So I’m gonna go get dressed, and I’m gonna leave you with my towel so the two of you can have a few minutes alone to get acquainted.”
Ever so casually, he pulled the terry cloth from around his waist and handed it to a dumbfounded Amy.
“It’s a little wet.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”
Amy was sure she’d have responded appropriately if she hadn’t been so busy confirming her erection suspicions.
Forget the towel. The wettest thing in the room right now was her. She wished she had a pair of super-industrial-strength panties, because the longer she stared, the wetter she got.
Well, don’t stare, then.
Easy for you to say.
Lift your eyesupward, to his face.
I swear, I’m trying. It’s not working.
Daniel saved her from further internal debate. “I’ll be back in five, Morgan. Enjoy getting to know the towel.”
He turned around and sauntered off to his room, leaving the towel dangling uselessly in her hand.
…
It took longer than five minutes to get dressed. Daniel feared zipping up jeans in his current state would maim him for life. He pulled on his clothes slowly, his lips twitching. Yep. There was no doubt about it—just like he’d planned, his good pal was hot and horny and ready to jump him.
And he’d walked away.
Had he lost his mind? No reasonable man could walk away from a woman who looked at him like that.
But then Daniel wasn’t exactly of sound mind. He hadn’t been since he went down on Amy. Got a taste of her sweet sex. One lick and his sanity was history. Fucking her was the only thing that would help him regain his common sense.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t fuck her yet. If he did, all his well-laid plans would be ruined.
When he did make love to Amy, he wanted her to wake up the next morning without one iota of regret. He wanted her to know it was the best step she could have taken. Yes, she might want to fuck him tonight, but by tomorrow morning, she’d be appalled. She’d wake up comparing him to Simon and her father, convinced he’d be the next man to walk out of her life.
There was no question about it. She wasn’t ready, although ever so slowly, she was getting there—and he couldn’t deny he was enjoying tormenting her a little in the process. His encounter with Lexi might have been unplanned, but it had turned into a perfect excuse to torment Amy a little more, stir up her awareness of him.
He bent his knee back and forth a couple of times. A little tender, perhaps, but nothing serious. Then he rolled his shoulders. After Amy’s massage and his bath, they should feel loose and relaxed. They didn’t. They were as tightly wound up as the rest of him. Lexi’s cricket bat might not have caused much damage, but the memory of Amy’s touch made him ache.
