“No.” A heavy load of rigidity resettled in his broad shoulders. “If I do, I won’t be able to stop.”

Did he not understand how badly she wanted him? “So let’s not stop.”

Eyes still averted, he held the shirt out to her. “Take my word on this, okay? Tonight is not the night.”

Ignoring the offered shirt, she moved up against him, her br**sts to his naked back. “Why?”

He stiffened. “Yvette...”

Arms around him, she smoothed her palms over his chest hair, down those rock-solid abs. He dropped the shirt and caught her wrists. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“If I’m seducing you, then, yes, I do.”

He laughed, the sound strained. “Yeah, you do.” Still clasping her wrists, he drew in a deep breath and turned to her.

Though she wore only a pale pink thong, his attention remained stubbornly on her face.

She might have been humiliated over that, even hurt, except that she knew Cannon was trying to be noble for her benefit. Tonight had been rough, and he thought she needed time to recoup.

If she wanted Cannon to see her differently, she’d have to be different, too.

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Bolder.

She needed to go after what she wanted. Him.

Determined to convince him, she snuggled in close.

Her ni**les, now stiffened, brushed his abdomen. He groaned and tried to loosen her hold. “You’re hurt.”

“Only a little.”

“You’re upset, too.”

“I am. And I know I’ll feel better if we—”

“What?” With clear reservation, he cupped her face, lifted it so he could nip her bottom lip then soothe it with his tongue. “If I go nuts on you? Because that’s where I’m at, baby. No finesse, no patience like I had last time.”

“I like the idea of you going nuts.” She didn’t need patience; she just needed him.

His nostrils flared. His eyes closed. “I’m not a selfish prick.”

“No, you’re not. You’re sweet—”

He snorted.

“—and hot, and I need to be with you.”

Resistance crumbling, he breathed harder. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come—”

Opening her mouth on his chest, she took a soft love bite.

He shuddered. “Because I can’t guarantee I’ll last long enough.”

She cupped his testicles through the soft cotton of his boxers, then wrapped her fingers around his throbbing length. Stroking, squeezing. “So we’ll skip sleeping and do it until we get it right.”

His erection flexed—and a second later he lifted her hands away from his body. “You need to hold up a minute.”

Stunned that he’d still deny her, Yvette pushed back to see his face. “I’m beginning to think you’re the one with the problem!”

After running a hand over his face, he nodded. “Maybe my problem is with you.”

The breath left her, the words hurting like a physical blow. Thinking only of getting away, she turned from him.

He pulled right back around again. His hands on her shoulders were tight but not hurtful. Looking as agonized as she felt, he put his forehead to hers. “You don’t trust me, Yvette, and I want you to. I want that so goddamned bad.”

Trust him? “Of course I do.”

“No, you wear this mask, hiding who you are and what you feel. How you react to things. You don’t trust me not to judge you. You don’t trust me to see the truth of things.”

“What truths?”

“That you’re strong and smart and independent. But shit happens to everyone, and we all have to deal with it. The thing is, you don’t have to deal alone. Not when I’m here.” He gave her a small shake, followed quickly by a cradling hug. “Even now,” he said, his voice raw, “I can tell something’s wrong.”

“My ex tried to kidnap me!”

“I know.” He stroked her hair, his determination pouring over her. “You’re pissed, and a little rattled still. That’s understandable. But that’s not what’s between us now.”

No, he couldn’t possibly read her that easily, know her that well. “I don’t understand you.” Suddenly she felt naked and reached for the shirt he’d dropped on the floor.

Cannon stood on it. She tugged, but he didn’t move. She was eye level with his lap, him wearing only boxers, her in a thong.

They should be having sex, not arguing. If it was any other man, anyone but Cannon, they would be.

But if it was any other man, she wouldn’t want it.

The absurdity of it hit her, and with it a fresh rush of indignation.

Still kneeling before him, she breathed faster...and blurted, “Mindi said you only wanted to finish what we’d started so long ago.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Tonight at the bar. Before she hooked up with Armie.”

“Mindi and Armie?”

Yvette again yanked at the shirt; he again didn’t move. “She said once it’s over, you’ll be done with me. I don’t know how that can be if you refuse to ever start with me.”

She gave up trying to get the shirt and straightened again, wrapping her arms around herself to shield her br**sts. Her gaze met his and stalled.

His killing expression gave her pause.

Cannon stepped close. Voice low and menacing, he said, “You discussed me with Mindi?”




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