Page 39 of Entangled
“No. Not at all.” She wraps her arms around me and rests her head on my shoulder while I gently stroke her back.
We stay like that—locked together—until our breathing returns to normal.
Rowan straightens, and I lift my head to meet her gaze. Her eyes focus on mine. “Maybe sometime we can actually be naked for sex.”
“Tell me when.”
She flutters her eyelashes. “Anytime works for me.”
“Am I turning you into a sex fiend, Princess?”
“Yes and no. I mean, I’ve always had a healthy libido—obviously—how else would I be able to work for The River? Anyway, it’s great to finally use it. In the flesh, that is.”
My muscles tense as visions of her dancing for other men float through my mind. She’s mine, but who am I to claim her? I’m nothing more than an old, fucked-up, asshole with more baggage than the RPS warehouse. She can have any man she wants.
What if this is just sex for her?Am I the only one who feels something?The pain of that thought burns me. I clench my jaw, forcing a calm I don’t feel.
She notices, of course.
“What’s wrong?” She tilts her head to the side, studying me.
“Nothing.”
“I call bullshit.”
I grip her shoulders and lift her off me, setting her back on the bed. “Call it whatever you want, Princess. It’s time to sleep.” I tuck my cock back into my pants and climb to my feet. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, you’re actually coming with?” she asks, like she’s genuinely shocked.
“We made a bargain, didn’t we?”
She narrows her eyes. “Yeah, but you’re pushing me away like you did last time, so I kinda figured you were gonna renege on your end.”
“I didn’t push you away.”
“Again, my bullshit meter is at capacity.” Rowan stands and fixes her nightgown. “You definitely did, and you’re doing it again.” She props her hands on her hips. “Gotta tell you, it feels really shitty to be on the receiving end when you go all cold and distant after sex.”
“I didn’t go co—”
“It’s fine. Let’s drop it. I’ll see you upstairs.” She spins on her heel and heads for the door.
My legs eat the distance between us in two long strides. I snag her around the waist and haul her up against me, her back to my chest. “Let me make myself abundantly clear,” I growl at her ear as she gasps and clutches my forearm that’s wrapped around her. “Cold is the last thing I feel when I’m around you.”
She cranes her neck to look back at me. “If that’s the case, why are you so moody then? Aren’t most guys on cloud nine after sex?”
“I’m not most guys.”
“No kidding. You’re—”
“Am I distant? Yeah. I’ll give you that, but I swear it’s not you.” I release her and grip her shoulders, spinning her to face me once more. “Maybe I can’t find the fucking words to say what I wanna say. Maybe I don’t know how to handle what I’m feeling. Maybe I have no business wanting the things I want. Did you ever stop to think that there’s more going on beneath the surface?”
“No. I guess I didn’t.” Her throat moves on a swallow as she stares up at me with so much need in her gaze, my chest tightens. “What do you want, Henry?”
You. I want you in my arms forever.
“I’m still figuring that out.” I drag my hand over my face and release a harsh exhale. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“It’s OK,” she whispers. Squaring her shoulders, she lifts her chin and nods to the door. “Let’s get some sleep.”
