Against the Edge

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.