Page 9 of Rex's Honor
She raised a brow as her heart hammered in her chest. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“Yeah, you are. And the key word is sleep. Not sex. We used to sleep in that double bed we had all the time and not have sex.”
“We’d wake up and have sex.”
“That’s true.” He leaned over, taking her by the hand. “But I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out here on this. I can promise I won’t even think about sex, much less touch you.”
“That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear when a man is wooing her to bed.” She stood, sliding her hands from his, snagging the pillow.
He raised his arms. “I’m trying to be nice and respectful here, but I also want to make sure we both get some sleep.”
“I get the right side,” she said. Good grief, what the hell was she doing agreeing to share his bed? Did she have some sadomasochistic tendencies she didn’t know about?
Or had she just lost her mind?
“You’re still particular about that?”
“Aren’t you?” She held the hem of his shirt down, making sure it covered her ass. She should have kept his shorts on.
“About what side I sleep on? God, no. Then again, I generally don’t have women in my bed so what difference does it make.”
She stopped at the doorway.
“Umph.” He bumped into her.
“Generally? What does that mean?”
He pressed his hand into the small of her back, nudging her forward. “It means I’m not seeing anyone and haven’t in a whileand don’t like women on my boat. Cramps my style. Now stop talking and get into bed before I change my mind.”
That statement sent her insides on a roller-coaster ride. The downhill turns were filled with jealousy over any woman who’d had him after her. The uphill twists were all about the fact he hadn’t been with anyone in a while.
The only question was, what constituted a while, and did he stay at their places instead?
She mentally smacked herself as she pulled back the sheets and slipped onto the soft but firm mattress.
The bed shifted as he sat down, his back to her. The pitter-patter of light raindrops echoed off the boat. As he twisted, the outside light gleamed through the porthole like a ray of sunshine on the heart tattoo. Without thinking, she reached out and traced the letters inside the heart. “I can’t believe you didn’t change this.”
He rolled to his side, propping himself on his elbow. “I honestly never thought to change it. Besides, I like it.”
“Your father was so pissed when you got that.” Mindlessly, she continued to run her fingers on his shoulders.
“I remember being upset with you for not getting a matching one.”
“Back then, it scared me too much.”
“Does that mean you have one now?”
“I’ve got a couple of them,” she admitted, jerking her hand away. “We should get some sleep.” As if she could relax enough to doze even for a short period. As soon as he drifted off, she planned on sneaking out, which was stupid. She didn’t have to stay in his bed, and she certainly didn’t care if he thought her rude for not taking him up on his chivalrous act.
“Where?” he asked, rolling to his back.
“Back of my neck and lower back.”
“Of what?”
She tucked her hands under her cheek and closed her eyes. “On my lower back is a set of butterflies.”
“You always did love those insects.” His chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern. “And the other one?”
