And hadn’t he.

But she meant the game. He’d lost all those balls, too. “I did.”

The enormity of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He was bonding, and bad, with a woman who was nothing like his ideal. Not just bonding, he was falling. Falling hard.

Quickly he stepped away, unable to touch her anymore without tearing all her clothes off or asking her to do something crazy like stop looking for silly women for him to date.

Seeming to sense his sudden change in mood—and how couldn’t she?—Drea rubbed her hands over her arms. “Well. Game over. It’s late anyway. I should go.”

“Yeah. I suppose you should.” She should. She really, really should.

He didn’t want her to go.

“We can go over those ideas for your date tomorrow in the morning. First thing.”

“Yeah, first thing.” He had a meeting that had come up for first thing in the morning, but he didn’t say that. He didn’t want to ruin this night with Andy by talking about another woman. He didn’t want to talk about another woman ever again: if you asked him at that moment.

He was no longer scared. He was terrified.

“Um, I need to call a cab.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I can take you.” Or was it him who wouldn’t meet her eyes?

“You can?” Her voice sounded both happy and sad. As if she was glad that he offered, but maybe not so glad about going home.

Or was he simply transferring his own emotion onto her?

“Of course I can.” He gestured for her to go ahead of him. “After you.” He was confused and awed and he needed a minute to gather himself. Except he wasn’t sure a minute would be enough.

What was he doing? With Jane? With Drea? All of it was a muddle. The life plan he’d set seemed off kilter. Seemed wrong. The only thing that felt right was the woman standing outside the door, waiting for her ride home.

He wasn’t sure what to do with that realization. But he couldn’t keep her waiting.

When he stepped into the hallway, he found her leaning against the wall, panic on her face as she kicked her leg out to the side of her. Blake looked down to see the dog was attacking her leg. At least she was laughing.

“Puppy, no. Shoo. Stop that.” Chuckling, he bent down to the floor to pry the dog off Andrea’s leg. “Get out of here.” Puppy obeyed, scurrying down the stairs.

With the dog gone, he grew serious. He pinned his focus on the gorgeous calf in front of him. “I don’t blame him, though. You do look awfully good in jeans.”

Andy giggled. “So you want to hump my leg?”

He didn’t answer, but he made a choice. For the first time ever, he decided to stop thinking about rules and life plans. He only wanted to live in this moment with Andrea, consequences be damned.

He trailed his hand up her beautiful denim-clad leg as he stood, settling it at her waist. He put his other hand on the wall behind her, caging her in.

Her breathing sped up as she peered up at him. “Blake…?” The question trailed off as if she couldn’t say the words she meant to.

“Andy…?” He suspected he knew what she was asking, but he wanted to know for sure. Needed to know for sure. After all, he was about to break all the rules, and though he was decided on it, her permission was absolutely necessary.

A smile eased across her beautiful rose lips. “You called me Andy.”

That’s right, he had. It was fitting for her at times, he realized. As fitting as Andrea was at others. Both names describing different aspects of this woman that he so adored. This woman that he might even, maybe, love.

Hoping she didn’t see the true depth of his emotion on his face, he simply said, “Slip of the tongue.” And oh, how he wanted to slip his tongue in other places. Slide it along the line of her jaw. Flick it across her nipples, which he noticed were already standing at attention.

He moved in closer, his mouth hovering just inches above hers.

“Blake…?” Her voice was soft and pleading.

If she couldn’t say what she wanted, he’d have to help her. “If I asked you to stay the night—”

She cut him off. “I’d say yes. Are … are you asking me?”

“Yes.” Blake closed the distance between them, kissing her jaw first and working his way up to her lips. He wanted to take his time, loving the build of anticipation. Also, he knew that this kiss was going to be important—it was going to change everything.

Chapter Seventeen

When Blake’s mouth finally met Andrea’s, he felt like he’d found the Force. Like he’d been searching for it his whole life and now he had it in his grasp. Though he’d kissed her before, both sweetly and frantically, this was the first time it had been with all his walls down. He was naked before her, exposed—and he still had all his clothes on. It gave the kiss a sense of newness. It was surprising. Exhilarating. The best goddamn kiss of his life.

His lips sucked at hers, teasing, tasting before he allowed his tongue to slip in and stroke along her own. For several minutes, their hands were still, letting the movement of their mouths take center stage. They had an entire conversation with lips and tongues moving in rhythm—I want you, they said to each other. To get to know you. To savor you. To have more with you.

Soon, though, kissing wasn’t enough. Andrea brought her hands around his neck and pressed into him, rubbing her body against his like an affectionate kitten. God, that made him hot—the way she moved her tits along his chest, her pelvis pushing at his erection. If he didn’t stop her now, they’d be doing it in the hall, and that was not where he wanted her.

He wanted her in his bed.

He pulled away, the confusion in her gaze lasting only until he took her hand and led her silently to the double doors on the opposite side of the hallway. Without flipping on the light, he continued past the threshold of the darkened room, steering her to his bed where he helped her sit.

She reached for his embrace again, but he stopped her.

“I want to see you.” He flicked the switch on the nightstand lamp, the sudden light causing them both to momentarily blink and adjust even though the illumination was dim. The overhead was too bright, but he was aching to gaze at her when he stripped her naked.

In their trysts at the office, they’d never undressed fully. It had been almost an unspoken addendum to their rules—sex with clothes on was much different from sex with clothes off, after all. Maybe not fundamentally, but emotionally. So many times he’d wanted to unbutton her blouse, strip her of her bra, and take her naked breast into his mouth, yet he’d restrained himself. Tonight, with all the other rules already broken, there was no longer a reason to hold back. He’d feast on her with his eyes, then with his tongue. He’d make love to her with nothing between them. Hell, with her permission, he’d even forgo the condom.

When he turned back to face Andrea, he found she’d moved to a kneeling position. She reached forward to tug on his shirt. He smiled, letting her pull him toward her. She was as desperate to keep touching as he was. Cupping her hands around her face, he kissed her again, thoroughly. Then he grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and broke away from her mouth so that he could rid her of the clothing. Her powder-blue lace bra came off next, joining her shirt on the floor.

“That’s better.” Much better. Blake was amazed at how Drea didn’t try to cover herself up, but let her arms stay loosely at her sides, showing him her goods without shame. And she had nothing to be ashamed of in the least. Why had he wasted so much time on such scrawny girls in the past? Drea’s breasts were magnificent. They would fill his palms, voluptuous without being showy. Absolutely perfect. He wanted to squeeze them and watch her shiver. Wanted her perfect dusky nipples between his lips.