Page 35 of Frog

I stopped and looked back at him.

“You don’t leave a man that looks like that or works that job or has the financial portfolio he has alone. You just don’t. You keep thinking that you can ride off and he’ll just be here when you get back each time, and that’s idiotic. You should not even have a choice. A man like you, lacking in prospects and everything else, where do you get off even being here or—”

“Oh.”

We both looked to the end of the hall where the gasp had come from, and there was Cy, standing in the bedroom doorway, wrapped in a big fluffy brown robe, hair tousled, smiling, his bare feet poking out from under the flannel pajama bottoms.

“Hi.” I heard Ross exhale.

Cy forced a smile, and then his eyes flicked over to me. “Web?”

Dear God.

Really, you would have had to be blind to miss the open joy on the man’s face or the carnal heat in his eyes. Without thinking, he licked his lips, clenched his jaw, and took a deep steadying breath. No doubt about it, the man liked me just a little bit.

“Are you coming to bed?”

“Right now,” I assured him, striding down the hall fast, brushing against his robe on my way into the room and hearing him call out a goodnight to Ross before he closed and locked the door behind me. I turned to face him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Wantin’ me instead of the guy who’s better for you.”

He shook his head.

“It’s true,” I said, rushing him, hands on his face, tipping it up, smashing my mouth down over his, kissing him deep but slowly, gently, not hard, finally alone with him and loving it.

“Oh God, Weber, you’re the only one who’s good for me.”

We didn’t fall on the bed; we sort of sank down into it, collapsed, and continued making love with our mouths. And I wanted to attack him or have him ravage me, but I just could not for the life of me stop kissing him.

First I was on top and he was under me, and then he pushed up and I was rolled fast to my back. He started plundering my mouth, and the pace changed, got frantic, as he bit me and I sucked on his tongue. His moan was so sexy, and I was so hard and just certain, down to the depths of my soul certain, that if I didn’t get my hands on his bare skin that I was going to die.

“God, I fuckin’ hate you,” he whispered, the words hot on my face.

I put him flat on his back and found myself staring down into turbulent brown eyes. “Cy?”

“You belong to me, you stupid sonofabitch!”

I sighed deeply. “Cy, we’ve been over—”

“What is so wrong with letting me stake you in a business?”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know, whatever you—I could sponsor you and you could—”

“No sir,” I said, rolling sideways onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. “My body can’t rodeo no more. I may be stupid, but I ain’t suicidal. I’ll find a ranch where I can—”

“I don’t want you on a ranch somewhere in Texas! I want you right here!”

I turned over, moving further away from him, and went face down into the pillow. Fighting was not what I wanted to do. This was what had happened the last time, and I remembered his ultimatum, how angry he’d been, trembling with rage, furious at himself and his tears, livid that I had any power over him at all.

“This was a mistake,” I muttered, moving the pillow as I rolled my head sideways. “I’m so sorry, Cy. Just when the damn thing was healin’, I show up and tear off the bandage and make it start to bleed all over again.”

He was silent, and I cursed myself for saying anything.

“Weber,” he growled my name, surprising me with his body on mine, pinning me under him to the bed. “Did you ever think that the only thing you’re supposed to do is just love me?”