A Perfect Storm
Page 34

 Lori Foster

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She wanted to deny that, but too many times already he’d read her intent. The ramifications of that staggered her. “Oh, so I’m supposed to trust you, but not the other way around?”
“Give me reason to trust you, and I will.” He strolled to a chair, disregarded it and moved to sit on the end of the bed.
He eyed her, smiled and patted the mattress beside him.
Arizona shook her head. She needed to get dressed before she got close to him again. Contrary to what he’d said, she did trust him, but that didn’t make her more comfortable while hiding under a towel.
Spencer kept his gaze on her face. “You wanted to know what I did with Marla, what made her enjoy having sex with me?”
Her eyes flared and her jaw loosened. He couldn’t be serious. But boy, he sure looked serious. “Uh…yeah.” She really wanted to know. The sad truth was that she’d thought about it way too much, when she had other things she should have been contemplating.
“Then let’s talk.” He patted the space beside him again.
She looked down at her mostly bared body, touched the towel on her head. “Okay, sure. Just give me a couple of minutes.” She turned toward the bathroom and her blow-dryer.
Spencer sat forward and caught her hand. “Now.” He tugged her—since she didn’t really resist—down to sit close beside him.
Her bare thigh pressed against the worn, soft denim covering his. She breathed in the scents clinging to his body, those of sun-warmed skin, aftershave and…earthy male.
Struggling to keep the towel closed over her thighs, Arizona waffled. “You know…I really should get dressed first.”
“This won’t take long.” He stared down at her thighs for so long that heat crawled over her, and her toes curled. It wasn’t at all an unpleasant sensation.
She cleared her throat. “Okay. Shoot.”
His gaze slid up to the notch of her thighs, then to her chest, shoulders, and finally he met her eyes. “I cued into her.”
It had taken him so long to say that, Arizona had to shake her head to understand him. “What does that mean?”
“A considerate man spends time on foreplay.”
And he was considerate? Probably. “You mean kissing and groping and stuff.” She curled her lip. In her experience, that just dragged out the inevitable.
“If that’s what she likes, yes. Lots of kissing, and lots of touching. Doing so gives me an opportunity to pick up reactions to various things. Judging by what a woman liked most, and least, I adjust.” He reached out, trailing the back of a knuckle over her cheek.
Arizona froze, then inhaled sharply.
“When I touch you like this,” Spencer murmured, “you get that certain look about you.”
She’d been sinking under sensation, but now she slapped his hand away. “I do not have a look.” Except maybe a look of fear, which she fought hard to hide. Only with Spencer, she wasn’t afraid. Worried a little, maybe, mostly because of how he made her feel, not because of anything he might do. But there was no real fear.
He smiled with understanding and negated her thoughts by saying, “That look tells me that you like it when I touch you, as long as I don’t push things too far.”
Arizona thrust up her chin. “What’s the look? Describe it to me.”
“Softer. Warmer.” He cupped a hand around her neck so that his fingertips played over her sensitive nape. “Definitely warmer.”
She swallowed hard. “I thought we were talking about you and Marla.”
He grew far too serious. “I know you’re unaware of it, but an honorable man doesn’t discuss the intimate details of his involvement with other women.”
“You big fraud!” He’d had no plan to tell her—
“But,” he said, moving his hand down to clasp her shoulder and forestall her angry rise from his side, “I can give you generalities.”
She crossed her arms. That’d have to do. “Better make it good.”
His mouth twitched into a crooked grin, but he stopped short of laughing at her. “A smart man learns to read women. Anyone can have sex, and I’m sure you know that men get off pretty easily.”
That was…straightforward. Arizona eyed him askance. “Yeah, they do.” With some guys, just looking at a woman was enough. But with others…no. She didn’t want to think about that.
For only a moment, Spencer looked pained. “Right. So, that being the case, the way for a man to make it more pleasurable is to make sure the woman enjoys herself, too.”
“That matters to you?”
“It matters to me very much.”
Huh. She couldn’t imagine why, but she shrugged it off. “Most men don’t care—”
He put a finger to her mouth. “Honestly, honey, you don’t know what most men care about because you haven’t known any real men, any good men.” His voice dropped, and he looked at her mouth. “At least, I assume you haven’t been intimate by choice, but I suppose you could have—”
“No.” She shuddered at the thought.
“There was no one before you were taken?” He studied her. “No one since, or maybe at some point during?”
She snorted. “Before then, with my folks, it would’ve been one heck of a trick to pull off. During and after…” She looked away, saying again, “No.”
He stroked a hand along her arm, up to her shoulder, and ended by cupping her chin. “Then trust me on this. Normal, healthy men love a woman’s excitement.”