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I hear the panic in her voice and swallow back a curse. “Shh.”

“No, I won’t shush. I can’t believe I just—just…”

“Made love with a stranger?”

“I can’t make love with someone I don’t know.”

That pisses me off. “You know me. But you don’t know me. You don’t see me.”

“I can’t know you until you let me see you.”

Lauren has a valid point. But she isn’t ready. If she turns me away now, I’ll never get another chance with her. I know this woman. She can be frighteningly closed and private. She’d shut me out completely.

I refuse to let her go.

“You liked it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever climaxed so hard in my life. I admit it. You’re good in bed. Obviously. But you…took me.”

“And I’m going to do it again. But make no mistake, I made love to you, too,” I protest gruffly.

Damn, it’s hard to change my voice every time I open my mouth, especially with my mind racing. I wish I could just rip off her blindfold, show her who I am, and talk to her as myself, tell her what I feel. Figure out what she needs to truly give me a chance to be her man.

But everything about her tone and her body language tells me she isn’t ready to deal with what I want. She’s still trying to wrap her head around what just happened between us.

Lauren shakes her head. “No.”

I scowl. “Do you want it softer and sweeter, so you know I’m making love to you?”

“No.”

She sounds positively panicked. What the hell?

“So you just want sex? Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am?”

Lauren draws in a ragged breath and sends me a shaky nod.

I freeze. Suspicion takes shape in my mind. Is she against having a man in her life for more than sex ever again? Is she against love?

The divorce hit her hard; that’s why I gave her months and months to heal. But if she’s still not ready to move forward… Shit. I don’t understand. She never seemed bitter after her split with Tim. In fact, I would have sworn she was relieved. Sad, but glad the dysfunctional relationship was behind her. Sure, she was reserved for a while, but lately she’s seemed resolved to move on with life. That’s why I’m here—in her bedroom, between her legs.

But she’s rejecting anything beyond a booty call.

Is she scared of more loss? Of more pain? I’ll figure out her fears and tackle her reticence…as soon as I make my point.

“Well, that’s a problem, because I want more,” I murmur against her neck. “I want love. I want you.”

Lauren

The stranger’s sandpaper whisper reverberates in my belly, rattling my self-control.

No love. Absolutely not. Love doesn’t last. Love hurts when the relationship is over. I apologized to Tim for everything I could think of…but in the end, I played second fiddle to a shiny new job, another promotion, trips to far-flung places. Men aren’t built for lasting love.

I hate the broken hearts and dreams left behind.

This man above me, still buried balls deep, would be no different. He might want me now, but his desire won’t last. Neither will his “love.”

But his skill with my body, the way he can make me flush with a word and ache with a mere kiss…all dangerous—to my self-control, to my psyche. Even to my heart, since he could use my body to get to my emotions. And when the game is over and the challenge is gone, where will I be?