eyes.”
“Graham, I don’t live here alone, my boyfriend...” Her train of thought eluded her when she stared into seductive eyes of warm golden brown, hazel eyes, easily losing herself in his look.
A crooked smile lifted one corner of his mouth and he prompted, “Yes?”
She mentally shook herself, and spoke again, her tone cool and businesslike. “Graham, my boyfriend may be on the road a lot, but I don’t need any complications in my life.”
“It’s Gray, and you don’t sound so sure.”
“Goodnight, Graham.” She lifted her chin, arched one eyebrow, and held his stare.
He laughed. “Okay. Goodnight, Marissa.”
Not wanting to appear intimidated, she stayed in her doorway, watching him climbed over the rail. He reached his door, stopped beneath the overhead light, and looked back over his shoulder. Flashing a heart-stopping smile, he winked before disappearing from sight. It took a great deal of self-control for her to close her door without slamming it.
Slumped against the wall, trembling with feelings she didn’t know she possessed, she inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her jangled nerves. Damn it, what was wrong with her? She was supposed to be in love with Joel, had been attracted to him since the moment they met. But what she felt for Joel, even before her disappointing sexual experience, was nothing like her reaction to Graham. That one touch, something in his eyes when he watched her, sexual awareness of him seemed profound, whatever that meant, hell.
Perhaps she’d been reading too many romances lately, and her one-time experience with Joel didn’t measure up to the propaganda. Graham fit the profile of the tall, dark, mysterious temptation. Yet, despite her keen sexual attraction to the man, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling of familiarity.
Too tired to think any more, she put her suspicions aside and headed for the shower.
Joel remained on the road for four weeks instead of three. The last two weeks passed quickly, because Darien stopped by after work a few times. Graham and Richard came over whenever Darien was there, never when Marissa was alone. She didn’t trust herself with Graham.
The day Joel returned, she told him about meeting their neighbors and suggested they give a party so he could meet them.
“Can it wait until I get back from this next run? I’m leaving next week for at least a month.”
“Fine, I’ll plan the party for your return.”
For the next few days, Joel did local runs. During time spent at home, something about his demeanor made her uneasy. It seemed like a front; it seemed he was pretending, especially when he made love― pffft, his term not hers. She categorized what they did together in street terms, doing the deed, having sex, which left him too satisfied with himself, and her unfulfilled, believing she was frigid. She planned to consult a doctor.
The night before Joel’s departure, she broached the subject of having kids. Being whimsical, she reminded him of the talks they’d had about having children while they were young. Both had younger siblings at home, parents in their late forties. They had agreed they didn’t want to have young kids at home when they were that age. And there were those two spur-of-the-moment incidents when he hadn’t used a condom, so she had babies on her mind.
Joel went ballistic.
Her suggestion that she could be pregnant already, provoked him to the point of grabbing her arms, face hardening as he yanked her close. The coiled tension of unavoidable altercation gripped her insides, and she readied herself for self-defense, believing he intended to hit her.
“Let go, you’re hurting me.” She kept her voice low. “What is your problem?
“I’ll do more than hurt you, if you’re pregnant,” he gritted out.
“Hey. You’re a participant too, and you have the means to control the process, yet you’ve been remiss a time or two.” She didn’t understand his anger, and his illogical attitude
“Graham, I don’t live here alone, my boyfriend...” Her train of thought eluded her when she stared into seductive eyes of warm golden brown, hazel eyes, easily losing herself in his look.
A crooked smile lifted one corner of his mouth and he prompted, “Yes?”
She mentally shook herself, and spoke again, her tone cool and businesslike. “Graham, my boyfriend may be on the road a lot, but I don’t need any complications in my life.”
“It’s Gray, and you don’t sound so sure.”
“Goodnight, Graham.” She lifted her chin, arched one eyebrow, and held his stare.
He laughed. “Okay. Goodnight, Marissa.”
Not wanting to appear intimidated, she stayed in her doorway, watching him climbed over the rail. He reached his door, stopped beneath the overhead light, and looked back over his shoulder. Flashing a heart-stopping smile, he winked before disappearing from sight. It took a great deal of self-control for her to close her door without slamming it.
Slumped against the wall, trembling with feelings she didn’t know she possessed, she inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her jangled nerves. Damn it, what was wrong with her? She was supposed to be in love with Joel, had been attracted to him since the moment they met. But what she felt for Joel, even before her disappointing sexual experience, was nothing like her reaction to Graham. That one touch, something in his eyes when he watched her, sexual awareness of him seemed profound, whatever that meant, hell.
Perhaps she’d been reading too many romances lately, and her one-time experience with Joel didn’t measure up to the propaganda. Graham fit the profile of the tall, dark, mysterious temptation. Yet, despite her keen sexual attraction to the man, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling of familiarity.
Too tired to think any more, she put her suspicions aside and headed for the shower.
Joel remained on the road for four weeks instead of three. The last two weeks passed quickly, because Darien stopped by after work a few times. Graham and Richard came over whenever Darien was there, never when Marissa was alone. She didn’t trust herself with Graham.
The day Joel returned, she told him about meeting their neighbors and suggested they give a party so he could meet them.
“Can it wait until I get back from this next run? I’m leaving next week for at least a month.”
“Fine, I’ll plan the party for your return.”
For the next few days, Joel did local runs. During time spent at home, something about his demeanor made her uneasy. It seemed like a front; it seemed he was pretending, especially when he made love― pffft, his term not hers. She categorized what they did together in street terms, doing the deed, having sex, which left him too satisfied with himself, and her unfulfilled, believing she was frigid. She planned to consult a doctor.
The night before Joel’s departure, she broached the subject of having kids. Being whimsical, she reminded him of the talks they’d had about having children while they were young. Both had younger siblings at home, parents in their late forties. They had agreed they didn’t want to have young kids at home when they were that age. And there were those two spur-of-the-moment incidents when he hadn’t used a condom, so she had babies on her mind.
Joel went ballistic.
Her suggestion that she could be pregnant already, provoked him to the point of grabbing her arms, face hardening as he yanked her close. The coiled tension of unavoidable altercation gripped her insides, and she readied herself for self-defense, believing he intended to hit her.
“Let go, you’re hurting me.” She kept her voice low. “What is your problem?
“I’ll do more than hurt you, if you’re pregnant,” he gritted out.
“Hey. You’re a participant too, and you have the means to control the process, yet you’ve been remiss a time or two.” She didn’t understand his anger, and his illogical attitude
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