Her Enemy With Benefits. Nicola Marsh

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across his consciousness ever since. ‘I got a glimpse of how hot you are beneath the ice and it’s a major turn-on. Last night was great. Stupendous, in fact. And a great prelude to going the whole way. So I’m not going to make excuses for it or apologise or act recalcitrant.’ He pinned her with a direct stare. ‘For the fact is I’d do it again right now, right here.’

      Her frosty façade melted a little as her mouth curved at the corners. ‘I’ve always wanted to do it on a desk.’

      ‘Duly noted.’ He trailed a fingertip across the back of her hand where it rested on her lap. ‘For the record, mine’s padded.’

      ‘No, it’s not. It’s bevelled glass.’

      He winked. ‘I’ll make sure to bring a blanket next time we meet in my office.’

      She waggled her finger at him. ‘Didn’t I just say we should keep business and social stuff separate?’

      ‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I agree with it.’

      She huffed out an exasperated breath—something she’d done often when they’d been studying. ‘You know we have to talk about what happened last night, right?’

      They did? From where he was sitting, he’d rather be doing much more than talking. Like finishing what they’d started last night, with him deep within her this time around.

      ‘Talk is overrated.’

      ‘Spoken like a true male,’ she said drily, jabbing him in the chest. ‘We need boundaries, that sort of thing.’

      ‘We need a desk with our name written all over it,’ he said, sotto voce, earning a delightfully unassuming, tempting pout for his trouble.

      ‘You’re the same infuriating, annoying, over-confident—’

      ‘And you’re the same subtly sexy, smart, amazing woman,’ he said, meaning it.

      He’d met some incredible women around the world, had enjoyed every moment of his bachelor life, but it hadn’t been until he’d arrived back in Melbourne and strutted into Sea-borns that he’d remembered Sapphire had a certain something that elevated her among other females.

      He couldn’t explain what it was, but the hint of vulnerability underlying her usual toughness appealed on a deeper level he rarely acknowledged.

      And that meant he had to focus on one thing only. Sex. No time or inclination to discover where her newfound softness had come from or to delve beyond the obvious: they were two people with a serious sexual attraction that would combust if last night’s prelude was any indication.

      And he couldn’t wait for the main event.

      Her mouth opened, closed. Her loss of words was cute. A rarity. He took full advantage.

      ‘I meant what I said.’ He snagged her hand beneath the table and she let him. ‘I had no idea you were so hot in high school—’ She pursed her lips in disapproval and he rushed on ‘—which is probably a good thing, as I would’ve made you fail Biology. But seeing how into it you were last night, us hooking up, major turn-on. Fantasy stuff.’

      He must have said the right thing, because she turned her hand over and intertwined her fingers with his. ‘You drove me nuts in high school, teasing me and mucking around with your slackass attitude.’

      ‘Surely that kiss on graduation night redeemed me slightly?

      She winced. ‘Another thing I’d rather not talk about.’

      ‘Yeah, I kinda got that impression when you didn’t return my calls.’

      Her fingers convulsed for a second. ‘I was mortified.’

      ‘Why? Because your date was a drunken dumbass?’

      She shook her head, dislodging a few strands from her slicked back do. Mussing the severity of that product-drenched hair added to her vulnerability.

      ‘No, I was embarrassed because I’d treated you badly yet you didn’t hesitate in stepping in to help me out of a rough spot.’

      He saw genuine regret in the reluctant gaze that met his, and he didn’t like his answering zap of emotion.

      Who cared what her motivations had been back then? He wanted her in his bed now. That was all that mattered. No room for emotions whatsoever.

      ‘Hey, I liked the putdowns and the cutting remarks. It spurred me on to tease you harder.’

      ‘That’s what the kiss was about, wasn’t it?’

      She’d lost him.

      ‘Huh?’

      ‘I thought you kissed me out of pity.’

      She said it so softly he strained forward to hear it.

      ‘What the—?’

      ‘I thought you felt sorry for me after Mick ditched me at the dance,’ she said, bolder this time, daring him to disagree. ‘You teased me during the drive about my lousy taste in dates, said maybe it was my dress or my hair or my corsage that drove him away, then we got home and you kissed me and I thought it was a big joke—you taking your usual taunts that one step further.’

      He swore.

      ‘You thought I was that shallow?’

      ‘That’s the only side of you I ever saw,’ she said, as if that made it better.

      It didn’t. There was a reason he’d acted that way, why he’d only shown the world a certain side, but he couldn’t tell her. He’d divulged enough truths for one day.

      ‘Well, sweetheart, here’s a tip. When a guy kisses a girl it isn’t out of pity. It’s usually driven by hormones.’

      He shrugged, trying to make light of the situation before he blabbed about why he’d really kissed her that night. It wouldn’t help to admit he had felt sorry for her, that he’d kissed her as a distraction to prevent tears. She’d slug him for sure. Or worse, not follow through on the promise of sensational sex.

      So he was a guy? Sue him.

      ‘And here’s a heads up. My motivation for kissing you back then is irrelevant. Because all that matters now is I sure as hell want you. Right now, if I had my way.’ He tugged on her hand and she leaned in close. ‘I’d clear this table, hoist you onto it, and have you out of those pants in two seconds flat.’

      Her eyes widened, locked on his. Thankfully she’d lost the injured lamb look. He could handle her cool and controlled. He didn’t do her insecure side well. It unnerved him, seeing the woman who’d verbally fended off his barbs and then some all soft and susceptible.

      It made him feel stuff he didn’t want to, so he regained control the only way he knew how.

      ‘I’d spread your legs, start at your right knee and kiss my way upward. Nipping your inner thigh…gentle bites.’

      Her

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