Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3) by Tara Wyatt (electric book reader .TXT) 📗

“Rollback triggers to revert the infrastructure stack in the case of an error,” she said, finishing his thought for him. Dammit, why hadn’t she thought of that earlier?

He turned and grinned at her, and it felt like hot chocolate on a cold day. Warm and sweet and like exactly what she needed. “Right. Then a playback error won’t cause the infrastructure to crash like it’s doing now.”

She nodded. “Yes. I love it. I’m only sorry I didn’t think of it first.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes all it takes is a fresh pair of eyes.”

Before she could stop herself, she laid a hand on his arm, her fingers curling ever so slightly around his impressive bicep. “Thanks for the assist.”

Looking over his shoulder, his eyes met hers and held, his chest rising and falling steadily. She dropped her hand and glanced away, severing the intense contact.

He swiveled in the chair so that she was directly in front of him, his knees brushing her legs. Sparks danced across her skin at the fleeting contact, making her feel hot and itchy. If she moved forward only a few inches, she’d be between his legs. She could slide her hands up his broad chest and nuzzle her face into his neck, breathing him in as her lips—

“I should’ve asked you this a long time ago,” he said quietly, sending butterflies exploding in her stomach yet again. Foolish anticipation pinned her in place. “How are you? After…” He cleared his throat. “The invasion? Are you sleeping okay? Do you feel safe?”

She closed her eyes for a second, completely unsure what to do with his concern. It made her hope while at the same time she knew that hope was completely idiotic. This didn’t mean anything. He was just being nice. He felt bad for startling her, nothing more.

She shook her head, licking her lips. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she nodded slowly. “I’m…yeah. I’m okay. I’m still a little shaken, but it’s fading. Moving into Theo’s place helped. Change of scenery or whatever. I’m sleeping okay. I’ve only had one nightmare so far.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry,” he said, his deep voice rumbling over her, making her want to purr and rub herself all over him like a cat. “But you feel safe, right?”

She nodded. “I do. I know that what happened isn’t likely to happen again, and thanks to you and your brother, Kayla and I are both fine.” Something charged through her, a need, a push to be brave and honest, and she wasn’t able to stop herself from saying, “I do think about it though. Both the invasion and…and everything else that happened that night.” She studied his face, looking for some kind of reaction. Some indication as to what he was thinking, how he was feeling. But his face remained completely neutral, as usual.

But then something happened. It started as a just a flicker, a flinch almost, and the light in his eyes shifted to something hot and intense. He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling a bit faster now. “Willa,” he said, his voice raw and gritty. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, not wanting to hear more of his apologies. She wanted something else. Something bigger and more real than just “I’m sorry” for the tenth time.

She bit her lip and moved the tiniest bit closer. “Do you think about it, Max?” she asked, a tremble in her voice. “Do you think about me? About us, together? Because I do. Almost constantly.”

He pulled in a shaky breath and his gorgeous features tightened. “Of course I think about it,” he said, his voice quiet and intense. “It’s all I think about.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Everything is you, Willa.”

She inhaled sharply and laid a tentative hand on his muscled shoulder, his admission fanning the flames of her hope. “See, you say things like that to me but then you throw up walls so high and so thick that you’re completely unreachable. You ignore me for days on end and then ask me if I have nightmares, out of the blue. You want me to think you don’t give a shit about me, but we both know that’s not true. And I don’t know what to do with any of that.”

He shoved a hand through his hair, leaving a curled lock falling onto his forehead. “Please don’t ever think that I don’t want you. Don’t ever think that.”

“What am I supposed to think?”

His nostrils flared as his hand landed on her hip, tugging her the tiniest bit closer. “That I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, but this—us—it can’t happen. I need to stay away from you, for your own good. I’m not the man you think I am.”

She swallowed thickly, her heart frantic in her chest. He did want her, as much as she wanted him. That knowledge alone was a tiny piece of joy, stained with rejection.

“Who are you, Max? What’s happened in your life to make you think you need to wall yourself away from everyone, including me?” Her voice was thin, high with emotion. Hope and fear and need and lust. She moved a little closer, stepping between his legs. His grip on her hip tightened, making a throb start up deep inside her.

“Trust me when I say you’re better off staying away from me. You need to find someone who can give you what you deserve.”

“But what about what I want?” She toyed with the open collar of his shirt, tracing her fingers along his collarbone. “What if what I want is you? In my bed? Inside me?”

He closed his eyes briefly and let out a soft, anguished moan. He caught her wandering fingers in his free hand. “You can’t say things like that to me, Willa.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s taking everything I have right now not to lock that door and fuck you on this desk.”

“What if that’s what I want too?”

He clenched his jaw and