Against the Edge. Kat Martin
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she could stop him, Ben had a handful of Michael’s striped dress shirt. “Whatever she’s doing, it’s none of your business.”
Claire thought of all those muscles and that he was a man trained to kill. “Ben, please...”
A heartbeat passed. He let go of Michael’s shirt but didn’t back away.
“Michael’s an old friend,” Claire said, hoping to defuse the situation.
“More than friends,” Michael corrected, pinning her with a glare. “At least we were.”
She turned away from him. “If you wouldn’t mind, Ben, I’d like to speak to Michael alone.”
Ben’s gaze remained locked on Michael’s face. Finally, he shrugged, but the muscles across his shoulders remained tense. “If you need me, you know where I am.” Padding back down the hall to his room, he closed the door.
“You notice he’s sleeping in the guest room,” Claire said as Michael’s dark gaze followed him, “if it’s any of your business, which it no longer is.”
“I’ve been away, Claire, but that doesn’t change the way I feel. I love you. I always have.”
“I thought we’d talked this out, that we both understood each other’s feelings.”
“You said the time wasn’t right. I’m here to tell you that in a few more weeks it will be. I have to go back to Colombia to finish my assignment, but after that, I’ll be back in L.A. We can set a date, get married, start living our lives together.”
Claire just shook her head. “What we had was good, Michael, but it’s over. I’m moving forward with my life. You should do the same.”
Michael reached for her, drew her into his arms. “I need you, Claire.” The door opened and Ben walked back into the living room.
“Time to go, friend. Claire needs her sleep. She’s got important things to do.”
Michael’s jaw tightened but he backed away. “It isn’t over, Claire. I’ll talk to you again when I get back from Colombia.” Turning, he walked out of the apartment and closed the front door.
“Your boyfriend, I take it.”
Claire turned to face him. “Ex-boyfriend.”
“For how long?”
“Five months.”
“He wants you back. That what you want?”
“No.”
“Good.” Claire gasped as he hauled her into his arms and his mouth crushed down over hers in a deep, hungry kiss.
* * *
God, she tasted like heaven. Petal-soft lips, skin damp from the shower and smooth as silk. He’d known he wanted her. Until he saw her with Sullivan, he hadn’t known how much.
His mouth moved hotly over hers, coaxing, possessing. She didn’t push him away, but he could feel her reluctance. He didn’t blame her. This wasn’t part of the plan. Couldn’t be.
Still, when her soft lips parted, he took advantage, his tongue sweeping in, her nipples beading beneath the silk robe, pressing into his bare chest. His arousal strengthened and he went hard beneath the fly of his jeans.
She tasted so good he kept on kissing her, and Claire kissed him back. She wasn’t immune to him. He was pretty sure she’d been without a man since Sullivan left five months ago. She had needs, and Ben knew exactly how to satisfy those needs.
Claire’s tongue slid over his. She leaned into him, pressed herself against his erection. Then she tore free.
Her palms trembled where they rested against his chest. “I’m not...not doing this, Ben. I can’t. I don’t do one-night stands, and we both know that’s exactly what this would be.”
His eyes ran over her, took in her rapid breathing, the hard peaks beneath her robe. “I don’t think I could get my fill of you in just one night.”
He didn’t usually say things like that. It sounded too much like a commitment, but it was true. Claire Chastain intrigued him. And she really turned him on.
“That isn’t the point and you know it. Sleeping with me would mean nothing to you, and once you’re ready to move on, our working relationship would be compromised.”
She was partly right. Their working relationship might suffer and he didn’t want that to happen. He had to think of Sam.
“Look, angel, it was only a kiss. You don’t have to get all bent out of shape about it.”
“Stop calling me that. You’ve probably used that on a hundred different women.”
“Hardly, sweetcakes.” Her hackles went up, and he almost smiled. “Somehow angel just seemed to fit.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s a side of you that’s still naive. I saw it the first time I met you. For one thing, just like you said, you aren’t the type for a one-night stand.”
“No, I’m not.”
“All right. So now that you’ve made your feelings clear, why don’t we go to bed?”
“What?”
He laughed. It happened so rarely it surprised him. “I meant in our own rooms.”
Her face colored. “Oh. Yes...well, all right, then.” She glanced at her bare feet. “Good night.” She started for her bedroom, kept walking and didn’t look back.
“Good night, Claire,” he called after her softly. He didn’t tell her that taking her to bed would mean more to him than just sex because he wasn’t sure it would.
He had a hunch, though.
And since those kinds of emotions weren’t things he wanted to feel, Ben hoped his hunch was wrong.
* * *
Claire couldn’t sleep. She kept feeling the heat of Ben’s mouth over hers, the glide of his tongue, the way he took complete control. Not like Michael. Michael’s kisses were warm and sweet, not hot and erotic. She remembered how the muscles on Ben’s chest had rubbed against her, how her nipples had begun to ache and distend. She couldn’t forget the powerful erection that told her how much he wanted her.
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