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soon as my legs work."
    What did that mean? But he didn't ask. A few minutes later, she curled up into a sitting position, not looking at him, pulled some clothes from her bag at the end of the bed and slipped into the bathroom.
    Well, hell. How bad had he screwed things up?

CHAPTER FIVE

    "I'm heading out to Gonzales tomorrow since I don't have to compete until Monday," he said after his shower, sitting on the bed and pulling on socks. "I'll take my tent and sleeping bag and you can have the RV to yourself."
    Since she had to work, of course. He wasn't leaving her behind because he needed space. Exactly. She shifted on her seat on the couch. "Okay. Thanks."
    "I'll get some work done out there, be back here on Monday, probably after lunch. Will you take care of Rocky for me?"
    "Of course." It was the least she could do.
    "Come to bed, Kennedy. It's big enough for the both of us."
    She hesitated, then rose, bringing the blankets from the couch with her. He took them from her, then sucked in a breath when he saw her wrists, still red from his grip. He captured them in one big hand, gently this time.
    "I hurt you. I'm sorry."
    "It doesn't hurt," she said with a shrug. "I'll be fine." But she felt her cheeks heat at the outward sign of what they'd done--what she'd enjoyed.
    He shifted to one side to make room for her. Again she paused. The bed was tiny, with his big body taking so much space. And while he'd dressed against the cold night in sweatpants and a t-shirt, she could still feel his hot flesh pressed against her. The fact that she wanted him again so soon scared the hell out of her. It was enough that she'd teased him into acting on his desire, that she'd let her attraction destroy her reservations.
    She sat, then stretched stiffly beside him, her back to him. Moving just as slowly, he rested his hand on her hip and drew her against him. She wasn't going to be able to sleep with his breath stirring her hair, his hand still on her hip. The way he'd touched her only minutes ago, the way he'd moved over her, in her, played through her head over and over and she couldn't relax.
    He had no such problem.  
    ***
    Luke stretched out in the sleeping bag and stared at the ceiling of his house the next night, the first night he'd slept inside it. He was determined not to count the cracks, to find the flaws, not if he wanted any sleep, but damn, it was in bad shape. He'd worked his ass off today on it, should be dead to the world, but he still ached for Kennedy. Damn it.
    He'd reached for her this morning, hoping for a slower-paced lovemaking, but she'd already been gone. He hadn't seen her before he packed up the truck and left. That added to his disturbance. Did she regret sleeping with him? Was that why she bolted?  
    He couldn't really blame her. He hadn't been the nicest guy in the world, hell, he hadn't even kissed her, given her any kind of seduction, just demanded to see her tits. He hadn't been able to think of anything else since she made that offer. No seduction, no build up, and he'd left red marks on her wrists.
    Worse, he'd taken her from Liam that first night because he didn't want his brother to take her to bed. He rolled onto his side and punched the wood floor. He'd been no better, unable to resist the temptation for more than one night. He'd always prided himself on having more control than Liam. Guess Kennedy proved him wrong.
    He worried over her disappearance this morning, and the fact that she hadn't shown up to say good-bye. Maybe she thought he was sleeping with her as payment. He could understand her being upset about that. Maybe she was mad that he hadn't invited her to come with him to Gonzales, but she had to work. She'd be miserable out here anyway--nothing to do. Of course, she wasn't one to keep idle. He could imagine her out here, too easily. Worse, he could imagine her back at the RV, sprawled on his bed, her hair fanned over his pillow. He'd never be able to stop smelling her in his bed.
    Jesus.