Page 75 of About that Fling
Her fingers lightly touched the edge of the table, hesitating there on the edge. “I want all that, too,” she said softly. “And also, I want you.”
Adam choked on his food. Jenna reached over and tried to whack him a few times on the back, but he waved her off. He stood up and made a beeline for the kitchenette where he leaned over the tap and guzzled at least twelve gallons of water before stopping to fill two glasses. He made his way back to the table as Jenna watched him, her expression uncertain.
He set one glass in front of each plate and took his seat again. As he dove back into his dinner, he watched her stand there nibbling her lip. Watched her eyes dart to the bed as he wolfed down the food. Did she mean I want you, like that? The same way he ached to toss her back on the bed and?—
“I want you, too,” he said softly. “Very much. Sadly, we can’t do anything about it.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “But I’ve also been thinking about my aunt. About the look on her face when she talks about her writing. About the passion she feels when she does something she’s really good at. I’m good at my job, Adam, but it’s not the same thing. I want the other kind of passion.”
“The sweaty kind?”
“Right. I mean, something like that. I want the kind of passion I felt with you.”
Adam took a slow sip of water, washing down the meal. Doing his best to wash away the urge to take her in his arms. How could he still want one woman this badly? It made no sense at all, but here he was wanting her so much he felt like his skin was on fire.
“I remember,” he said. “Our fling was pretty phenomenal in the grand scheme of flings.”
Jenna nibbled her lip. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?”
He nodded, though he wasn’t quite sure they meant the same thing.
But they did. Her next words confirmed it. “The passion was great—the sex, I mean. But it goes beyond that. When I’m with you, I feel alive. I feel seen and heard and understood in a way I’ve never felt before.”
God, he felt the same. “I know what you mean. Something between us just fits.” He took another sip of water. “I try to stay away from you, not to lie awake at night wishing I could have you again, just one more time. Or wishing we could stay up all night talking and touching and making each other laugh—not just the sex.”
She smiled and nodded as he spoke. “I want all that, too.”
They stared at each other across the table. Everything hinged on who made the next move. What was the right thing to do here? He had no idea. All Adam knew is that he’d never needed anyone like he needed Jenna McArthur.
“Guess our fling became way more complex,” he murmured.
“No kidding.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Look, I’ve had only one other one-night stand my whole life. Obviously, I’m not very skilled at the fling thing. Maybe it’s my fault.”
“Maybe we’re meant to be something besides a fling.”
“Maybe.” She bit her lip. “Or maybe we just need another go at what we had that first night.”
It wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Or was it? God, he craved her so much it clouded his thoughts. Getting it out of their system once and for all could be healthy. Or maybe it just meant more heartache. What was the right thing to do here?
“You’re talking about one more night together.” He needed to be clear. “Just . . . another secretive, furtive, melt-off-our-eyebrows evening of passion.”
Jenna bit her lip. “Would that be so wrong?”
Would it be? Right and wrong warred in his mind, jumbled with fears about workplace rules and Jenna’s job and her relationship with Mia and God . . . why did his ex have to float through his head in moments like this?
Then his eyes locked with Jenna’s and he forgot about Mia. He forgot about rules and careers and maybe his own name. His whole life, he’d never known anyone like the woman who looked at him now with such naked longing in her eyes.
“I want you, Jenna.” He shoved his plate aside and reached for her. It wasn’t hard, since she hadn’t bothered to sit down yet. She gave a little gasp of surprise, then came willingly into his arms. He pulled her onto his lap, loving the way her body melted against his like she’d done this a thousand times before. Maybe she had, but never like this. Never the way it was between the two of them. He felt sure of it.
She slid her legs around his thighs, her body tight and hot against his. There were too damn many clothes between them, but he didn’t want to pause long enough to remedy that. All he could think about was kissing her, feeling her mouth against his, her breasts warm and heavy in his palms as he slid his hands beneath her sweater.
“Jenna,” he murmured. “Bed.”
“Yes.” She slid off his lap, wobbling a little as she found her feet. He caught her hand and stood up, pulling her to the other side of the room where the white duvet was spread open and waiting. He caught her around the waist and pulled her to him again, falling backward onto the mattress with Jenna on top of him.
The exquisite weight of her body left him breathless, all curves and softness and a dense heat that enveloped him as he drew her down to claim her mouth again. She moaned and twined her fingers in his hair. He could feel the heat between her legs as she ground against him, the seams of their jeans making him mindless with their incessant friction.
He rolled against her, flipping her so she was on her back beneath him. Her hair spread wild and tangled on the pillow, and her eyes held a question he didn’t want to answer right then.
