Just Deserts - Brenda Jackson [40]
“Do you want anything from the bar?” he asked, leaning back in his seat. “Housekeeping left a note reminding us that it’s fully stocked.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t want anything, but you go ahead and get something if you like.”
“No, I’m fine.”
She nodded. “You said you were coming to look for me,” she said, regarding him intently. “What did you want?”
The moment the question had left her lips, Danielle felt a multitude of sensations. It wasn’t helping matters that his eyes were holding hers in a way she’d become familiar with, all but saying what he undoubtedly was thinking—he was much on the same wavelength as she was. Anger hadn’t dampened the desire.
Over the past few days, whenever she’d asked what he wanted, his respond had been the same. You, Dani. I want you. And always the result had been her tumbling into his arms so he could take her. She wondered what his response would be this time.
He broke eye contact with her and glanced down at his hands. He had balled them into fists. He then looked up at her again. “I owe you an apology. You were right—I got kind of carried away about what happened at Craven’s place. It wasn’t your fault and I’m sorry if I came across like I thought it was.”
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t come across like that. It’s just…all that jealousy confused me. You acted possessive and you’ve never acted that way before. But I thought about it and now I understand.” She wouldn’t tell him that she, Renée and Alex had actually discussed it in detail.
“And what do you understand?” he asked in a deep, husky tone of voice.
She shrugged. “I understand men get uptight about the women they sleep with, and although we’re best friends I have to recognize the fact that we’re also lovers, so you might see our relationship vastly differently from the way you saw it before, whereas I’ve been determined to keep it the same. I hadn’t realized what sharing a bed with you entailed.”
Slowly Tristan nodded. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She shifted positions on the sofa and he saw enough of her bare thigh to make his stomach tighten. He took a deep breath.
“It’s not really a good thing or a bad thing, Tris. It’s a situation we have to deal with—unless you don’t want to make love to me anymore.”
The thought occurred to Tristan that he would rather cut off his arm than deny himself the pleasure of making love to her. “No, that’s not what I want,” he said, holding her gaze. “Is it what you want?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not what I want, either. I want to make love to you. I enjoy doing so immensely.”
Desire flared in him, ripped at his most intimate parts. For him nothing was more exhilarating than being in her body, hearing her moan his name, feeling her grip him tight and milk him for everything he had, and then exploding inside her like he had every right to do so, over and over again.
“Do you enjoy making love to me?”
“If only you knew how much,” he said softly. He took a deep breath that sounded ragged even to his own ears. “Making love to you is like heaven. And when I come inside you, I feel like a man on top of the world, a man totally fulfilled. For those precious moments you and I are the only two people on earth. Nothing else and no one else matters.”
Tristan wasn’t sure what possessed him to say all that. He had come one sentence shy of confessing his love for her. He wouldn’t now, but one day he would. He promised himself.
Danielle rose to her feet and crossed the room to him. His senses were on alert with every step she took. She came to a stop in front of his armchair. Their gazes held for the longest time before she undid the sash at her waist and then eased the robe from her body, revealing one of the most daring and sexiest nighties he’d ever seen.
He swallowed tightly, reached out and skimmed his fingers along the hem of the brazenly short nightie that showed everything, especially the dark area between her legs.
“Show me, Tristan,” she said in a voice that seemed to stroke the entire length