and we could walk away clean at the end, the more time we spent together, the bigger the potential for fallout.
I should walk away now. Get the hell out before the sex morphed into something more.
But she stood at that moment and held out her hand. ‘Ready for dessert?’
‘We talking about those lemon tartlets I spied on the counter or something else?’
Her lips curved in naughtiness. ‘I thought those tartlets would taste fabulous later.’ She paused for effect as she leaned forward to murmur, ‘In bed.’
I stood so fast my chair slammed against the wall. So much for making a run for it while I still could. Time to make a last-ditch stand so I could tell my conscience to shut the hell up later.
‘When we first met, I had you pegged as some prissy, society princess playing at baking.’
An eyebrow quirked. ‘And I had you pegged as a selfish, arrogant playboy who didn’t give a crap about anyone but himself. Your point?’
‘You may be a princess playing at baking but you’re far from prissy.’ My gaze boldly raked her body. ‘And you’re sensational in the sack.’
‘Right back at you,’ she said, with a haughty tilt of her head, playing up to my initial assessment. ‘If you’d care to join me in the sack, maybe we can be sensational together?’
I hadn’t put up much of a fight. Hell, it had been a token protest at best. But the time for backing out of this thing between us was long past. Whatever happened from here on in, I’d have to take full responsibility.
Because this was my call.
I knew it; she knew it.
She’d been upfront from the start, labelling me as a way to purge her past. But I hadn’t returned the favour.
Because Abby was far more than just sex for me.
I was using her. In a way that would alienate her completely if she ever found out.
‘Don’t you back out on me now, Bad Boy.’ She sauntered towards me, hooked her finger into my waistband and tugged. ‘Whatever you’re thinking, forget it. We’re not invested in this emotionally, so stop second-guessing or feeling guilty or whatever it is you’re doing, and come show me more of that beautiful body.’
I blew out a long breath, releasing some of the residual tension making my shoulders ache. ‘I’d never have thought you’d be into tats.’
‘They’re incredible,’ she said, tugging my T-shirt over my head and flinging it away. ‘I could spend hours studying them.’
I didn’t move as her fingertips skated over my skin, exploring, lingering, just as she had that first time in my private room at the club.
Now, like then, lust blinded me, pounding through my body in time with my heart.
I didn’t get it. Abby was beautiful, but I’d dated stunning. She was inexperienced, where I’d dated sexpots who knew their way around a guy and then some. She blew hot and cold, whereas I’d been with women who were hot to trot any time of day or night.
But there was something about her that got under my skin in a way no woman ever had.
‘What’s your favourite?’ My skin rippled with awareness as she paused over the four-leaf clover on my right shoulder blade.
And licked it.
‘This one.’
‘Why?’
‘Because every time I see it, I get lucky.’
I laughed as she slid her arms around me from behind in an unexpected hug. ‘I like it when you lose the frown.’
‘I frown?’
‘Quite a bit of the time,’ she said, her breath fanning my back. ‘It makes you look formidable, when you’re really a pussycat.’
‘Says who?’
‘Me.’ She released me and stepped around me, her eyes glowing with wicked intent. ‘I think it’s time you made me purr.’
I didn’t have to be asked twice. Catching her by surprise, I scooped her into my arms and she squealed. Looped her arms around my neck. Proceeded to nip at my shoulder. Pleasurable bites that bordered on painful, accentuating the fine line we trod.
What we did now might feel good, but it had the potential to hurt like a bitch if it went pear-shaped.
I nudged open the door to her bedroom and strode inside, depositing her on the bed gently. She wanted to purr? I’d make sure of it.
‘How did you know this was the bedroom?’
‘I stayed here once, sleeping off a bender.’ I undid my jeans, snagged a condom, and stepped out of them, along with my jocks.
Once again, her lack of curiosity surprised me. I’d half expected her to ask why I’d stayed here and not at Remy’s house, why I’d turned up drunk at the patisserie in the first place. But she didn’t say a word. Instead, she crooked her finger at me, shimmying up the bed to rest against the pillows.
‘You are the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen.’ She lay back, hands behind her head, studying me with unabashed appreciation. ‘I could look at you all night.’
The longer she stared at me with shameless adoration, the better I felt. Like I could slay dragons for her. Like I could be the kind of guy she deserved.
But that was bullshit and the moment I thought it I knew I had to shatter this illusion. Because that was all it was. Something that appeared to be wonderful but could never be real.
I wasn’t the guy for her. No matter how much I wished I was for this brief moment in time.
‘And I could fuck you all night.’
If my crassness shocked her, she didn’t show it. She just lay there, a smile playing about her mouth as her inquisitive gaze drifted from my chest, to my belly, to my cock.
‘Then what are you waiting for?’
I started at her feet. Massaging her insteps. Tugging her toes. Drifting up to her ankles. Soft strokes that had her sighing with contentment and wriggling like a cut snake.
Holding onto her ankles, I tugged her down the bed a little. And spread her legs.
She wasn’t wearing panties.
‘Hot damn.’ I crawled up the bed towards her, flipped the skirt of her dress up, baring her to me.
Slick folds glistening with how much she wanted me.
The feeling was entirely mutual.
‘I love when you look at me,’ she murmured, squirming a little when I slipped a finger inside her. ‘You make me feel beautiful.’
‘That’s
