One Night Only / No Strings. JC Harroway
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Wishful thinking, asshole.
The phone in her hand buzzed, and she glanced at it, distracted.
He dropped his towel as if he were alone and strode to the dresser, selecting a fresh pair of black cotton boxers. If she chose to waltz into his home uninvited...
‘For goodness’ sake—do you have to?’
He shot her a look, the underwear he’d been about to don still dangling from his hand. Why should he be alone in this fierce, futile and, frankly, damned inconvenient attraction? Time to play with her a little.
‘Hey, you saunter into my home, uninvited. If you don’t want to find a guy naked, I suggest you call or knock first.’
He tugged the boxers on, noting with a slug of satisfaction the way her stare clung to his nakedness until the last second. Or perhaps she was gloating at his steely length, ready for action. But he was only human. She was a beautiful woman with a knockout body—but that didn’t mean he’d act on his unconscious reaction to her. Or his conscious thoughts of splaying her over his bed and fucking her out of his system for good.
Her cheeks flamed.
Another buzz of the phone.
Someone was desperate to get hold of her.
‘Got a hot date?’
She scowled a death stare at him, dropped the phone into her bag and then fisted her hands on her hips as if she couldn’t quite believe his audacity.
Believe away, darling.
‘None of your business.’ She tossed her head with a haughty lift of her chin, the long swathe of russet hair gliding over her shoulders. How would that gorgeous hair look spread over her naked back as he took her from behind; the tips brushing her rosy nipples as he pinned her to the wall and sank to his knees in front of her; spread out over his stark white bed sheets as he pummelled her up the mattress?
‘So first you accuse me of being a liar, and now you break into my home just to give me attitude?’ He could live with the latter, but having his integrity questioned pricked at the crude stitches holding him together.
She glared but had the good grace to blush. ‘Look. I...I’m sorry about calling you a liar. You didn’t actually lie to me. I just... I was gobsmacked to see you again.’
‘Apology accepted. And that made two of us.’ Ash moved to his walk-in closet, still visualising all the ways he’d like to make her come.
‘But, I didn’t break in,’ she called after him. ‘Ben told me where to find your spare key. And I did knock.’
‘Ah, yes. Ben. A bit awkward, isn’t it?’ He selected a black T-shirt and poked his head around the door as he tugged it on, furious that his urge to touch her again was not only still present but seemed to intensify despite the stained dress, reminders of her name-calling and his own rigid rules. Well, if he had to suffer, he wanted answers. ‘Tell me, what is a graduate with a PhD doing working behind a bar?’ She was too smart for this job to be a career move, unless her degree was in hospitality management.
She bristled, her hip jutted to one side in a move that accentuated her curves and the shapely length of her bare legs. Legs he’d like to sink between...face first.
‘I...I’m considering my career options. Ben was left in the lurch, and us working together is a good opportunity to get to know each other better.’
So she had a mission that involved spending time with Ben? Damned inconvenient for him and his raging inner battle, but equally intriguing, forcing her deeper into the crevices of his mind where she’d taken up residence since yesterday. He needed an eviction notice.
Another buzz from her bag. Why didn’t she silence the damn thing?
‘Why don’t you answer that?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s just some...notifications.’ She breathed a long sigh. ‘Look, we’re all grown-ups.’ She looked at him while she twisted a few strands of her hair the way she had yesterday. Perhaps, like him, her head was saying one thing while her body had ideas on a refresher.
But Ash didn’t do regret over relationships any more—been there, done that. Look where he’d ended up after yesterday’s lapse in judgment. And he was damned determined not to give in to the unfathomable desire currently dragging at him. A desire to have a second dip in the water.
‘It was just a one-night thing. As I told you, unlike you, I’m no expert. But isn’t it best to just...move on? Forget it ever happened?’
Was she convincing herself?
And she was right. His head had moved on pretty quickly—he’d trained himself well. But his libido, and his dick in particular, were as keen as mustard. It must be those damn flirty dresses that clung to her gorgeous tits like a second skin. Or her warm cinnamon scent infecting his bedroom. Or that pouty bottom lip her teeth kept tugging on...
‘I’m sure it makes sense to you, too. After all, we have to work together.’
He emerged from the closet tugging up his jeans and buttoning the fly, trapping his still-eager dick behind a row of studs. If only he could trap his erotic musings as easily.
‘Do we? Couldn’t you resign? Tell Ben you’ve changed your mind?’ Yes—remove temptation. She and Ben could get to know each other on their own time. His own sisters drove him crazy sometimes—how much time did they really need to spend together?
There was a small gasp as if he’d suggested abandoning kittens at the roadside. ‘I’m not letting Ben down like that.’
‘Surely he won’t care.’
For a second she paled as if he’d struck a deep, throbbing nerve. ‘Why would you say that? What has Ben said?’
Until today he’d never given much thought to Ben’s news a year or so back that he had a half-sister in London. Their friendship had stretched over the years as careers took hold, their recent contact limited to a snatched beer after work or a trip to the gym. What was the nature of Ben’s relationship with Essie? How close were they and why had she been out of the picture growing up?
One thing was certain: she didn’t know Ben well enough to be confident in his reaction to her quitting. Interesting... He shrugged. ‘I just mean I can replace you within the hour. No disruption to service.’
Fire shone from her stare. ‘Oh, I just bet you could. Well, I’m not disposable and I’m not that easily substituted.’ She stalked nearer, shunting his body temperature dangerously high with her teasing scent—summer, cinnamon and all woman. ‘I’m not an inconvenience to be sidelined, quietly slinking away as if I don’t exist.’
Whoa, where was all that coming from? He had clearly done more than touch a nerve—he’d sawed one in half and poured salt on the cut ends.
Her eyes danced over his crotch and then lifted.