Proving Paul's Promise Page 18

“What changed?” he asks. His blue eyes stare into mine.

“Everything,” I say. Regret hits me like a truck smashing into my body. I push to my feet and walk to the door. I turn back to look at him. “Are you coming?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Sometimes I just like to watch her sleep.”

“Okay. Good night,” I say softly.

He looks up at me and smiles. “’Night.”

I go out to the kitchen and clean up a little. The pizza boxes go into the recycling and so do the beer cans. I load the dishwasher and wipe off the counter.

I startle when I see Paul with his hip hitched against the counter. “You don’t have to clean up,” he says. He’s quiet, probably because he doesn’t want to wake Hayley.

“I don’t mind.” I wipe my hands with a dishtowel and smile at him. He looks at me. He really looks at me, and it makes me want to squirm. “We never did talk about how much I’m going to pay you for the room.”

“I thought we’d just take it out in trade. You know, sexual favors?”

I snort and toss the wet towel at his head. He catches it. “Have you ever paid for sex?” I ask.

This time he snorts. “Never had to.” He grins, and it’s so damn sexy I could drop my panties right here and not even feel bad about it.

“Women come easily for you.”

He smiles even more widely. “Some come more easily than others.”

He knows that’s not what I meant. “You and Kelly…you weren’t exclusive, were you?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “We were before we had Hayley. Then we weren’t.”

“And that was okay with both of you?” I go sit down on the couch, and he follows me. He sits beside me and takes my hand. Heat shoots from his palm to mine, and a tingle spikes up my arm. I shiver.

“It was okay with us,” he says quietly. “I like that you shiver for me,” he adds, his voice so soft and rough I can barely hear it.

I take a deep breath, and he watches my chest rise and fall and licks his lips. “I can’t have an orgasm,” I blurt out.

He sits back a little. “What?”

“I…um…I can’t have an orgasm. I can’t come. I can’t get off.” Fuck, I should have stopped at orgasm. I groan inwardly.

He chuckles and scratches his head. “Well, that’s a challenge. But I feel sure we can get past it.” He leans down until his lips are almost touching mine. “I’m sure I can make you come,” he says. “I’m a hard worker.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I squeak, pushing him back with a hand on his chest.

He sits back. “Talk to me.”

“Since the insemination, I’m not allowed to orgasm. Not until after my checkup. It’ll lessen the chances of the baby taking root.”

His brows rise. “Really?”

I nod.

“Oh, so on a normal day, you don’t have a problem with orgasms? Getting off? Coming?” He adjusts his jeans, tugging on the zipper, and I can see his manhood pressed hard against it. He doesn’t touch it or do anything inappropriate, and I wouldn’t even know how affected he is if he wasn’t so f**king big. God.

My cheeks are on fire. “No, normally not an issue. Although it has been a really long time.”

“How long?” He turns to face me and rests his elbow on the back of the couch, and drags his fingers through my hair.

“A really long time,” I repeat. I let my head fall back and groan to myself. “I know you’re not used to waiting…” I let my voice trail off.

“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life,” he says. “I can wait as long as it takes.”

“You’re so not what I expected, Paul,” I tell him.

“What did you expect?” His hand stops moving in my hair and starts to trail slowly up and down my arm.

“Sex on a stick,” I say quickly. I want to bite the words back as soon as they fall from my lips, but now they’re out there.

He chuckles. “I thought the same thing about you.” He tweaks my nose. “I’ve been fantasizing about you for years.”

I roll my eyes. “But your fantasies included me and another chick.” He did think I was a lesbian, after all.

He shakes his head. “No, it was just you in my head. All you, all the time.” He gets quiet for a second, but it’s not uncomfortable. “When you kissed me, you shocked the shit out of me.”

I wince. “Sorry.”

He holds up both hands. “Oh, please don’t be sorry. I loved it. But then I knew I had to make some changes if I wanted anything real with you. So I did.” He shrugs.

“Why me?” I ask.

“Because you’re you.”

“You don’t know the real me.”

“I know. That’s why I wouldn’t sleep with you right now even if there was no medical issue with it.”

I shove his shoulder. “Liar.”

He shakes his head. “I want to know everything about you.” He lifts my wrist and looks at my tattoos one by one. I have lettering up my inner forearm, and he starts to read it, but I twist my hand before he can finish. “You have these all over, right?” he asks. “Just like me.”

I nod.

He grins somewhat sheepishly. “I want to explore them all with my tongue.” He chuckles.

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