“Because you deserve it. You’ve been through a lot. I think you need to be reminded that you’re still a queen. And queens get served.” He tapped her foot playfully with his own.
Tressa dared her body to give one damn indication of how much his words had affected her. Finally, someone saw and acknowledged her worth. But why did it have to be the man she was determined to resist?
Roth continued, “Plus, something tells me you never really abandon nurse mode. That you’re constantly taking care of others and rarely focus on yourself, doing what makes Tressa happy.”
Doing what makes Tressa happy. That should become her new motto. She shrugged one shoulder. “I like helping people,” she said, in lieu of confessing that he was 100 percent correct. She rarely took time for herself.
“This weekend… It’s all about you, lady. Got it?”
Roth crossed one ankle over the opposite knee, rested his hands in his lap, tilted his head and eyed her as if asserting his authority. She propped her elbow on the table, rested her cheek against her palm and eyed him back. That seemed to be their thing—staring at one another for long, heated moments.
“Got it.” What else could she say?
Roth was a lethal combination: successful, sexy, charming. And he used it all well. Though a future with him was impractical, was a night of passionate, no-strings-attached sex out of the question?
What the hell was she saying? Roth struck her as the kind of man who molded into your system and stayed there, the kind of man who made women lose their minds. One night? Something told her one night with him would spiral her out of control. Her world was topsy-turvy enough. Still, everything about him intrigued her. Stay away.
Tressa circled her finger around the rim of the mug, ignoring his alluring aura. “I apologize if I caused any problems between you and your weekend companion.” A corner of Roth’s mouth lifted and her eyes fixed on his lips. Had anyone ever told him how damn sexy his mouth was? She was sure they had.
“Don’t apologize,” he said.
“I ruined your plans.”
“Yes, it does.” And there was some other shit she would love to happen right then.
Shit like him leaning over and kissing her long and hard.
Shit like him gliding his large hands up her bare thighs and underneath her shirt.
Shit like him pushing her panties to the side and curving two long fingers inside her.
Yes, all of that.
“Drifting again?” Roth said in a low, sensual tone.
Straightening her back, she said, “Um…why do you ask?”
Roth’s eyes lowered to her chest and lingered there several seconds before rising. “Seemed as if you were…daydreaming.”
The prickle on her skin told her she would regret looking down, but she tilted her head forward anyway. Yep, regret. Blazing-hot, flesh-searing regret.
There was no hiding those high beams of her beaded nipples. If she could have utilized one superpower at that very moment, it would have been the ability to make herself invisible. She pushed to a stand, urging the floor to swallow her. “I’m really tired. I’m…” Instead of finishing her thought, she forced her feet forward and willed her body to deactivate like she was a Transformer.
“You haven’t finished your cocoa.”
“It worked.” She forced a yawn. “I don’t think I need any more.”
“Wait,” Roth said.
Tressa froze as if he’d pointed a gun at her. When he moved toward her, she felt a wave of nervous tension. His head pointed toward the stairs. “Take the bed. I’ll take the sofa.”
As tempting as the offer was, she shook her head, then snuggled back onto the sofa.
A beat later Roth climbed in behind her. “Anyone ever told you you’re too damn headstrong sometimes?”
Tressa stilled, her body going berserk from Roth’s closeness, his solidness, his heat, his scent. Processing it all scrambled her brain. Her nipples tightened even more, her breathing grew clumsy, the space between her legs throbbed and begged to be touched. Sparring with her out-of-control body, she glanced over her shoulder and said, “Many call it being passionate. And what do you think you’re doing?”