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Authors: Faye Avalon

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BOOK: Bad in Bed
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“Well, we’re not moving, are we? And God knows
what damage you’ve done banging around up there.”

He rewarded her with another lopsided grin.

Vaguely, Amber thought it the sexiest thing.

He bent one elbow, leaning closer so that his
chest brushed her breasts.

He felt so warm, hard, and powerful that all
her hormones, asleep for months, burst to joyous life with a celebratory beam
on their little faces.
Damn
. This was
ridiculous. But there was no denying the heat pooling deep in her belly and
trickling down to her core.
 

Without taking his gaze from hers, he reached
down and grasped her hand. “You haven’t tried pressing the button yet.” He
wrapped his fingers around her wrist, holding her lightly as he stretched her
arm out toward the wall panel.

As much as she wanted the damn elevator to
move, she wanted to stay right there. She wanted to be here with his body
pressed to hers, his mouth full and lush and within biting distance, those eyes
twinkling down at her full of sexual desire and lusty innuendo, his touch light
but determined. She had to swallow before she could respond. “Will it work?”

“Go ahead and try. But before you do—” He stayed
her hand as she reached out her fingers toward the button. “Don’t I deserve a
little reward?”

With bells on, her happy hormones screamed, but
she gave him a haughty look. “I’ve only got a couple of quid on me.”

He laughed and tapped her chin. “Funny. I had
something better in mind.”

She huffed, for form, because dampness spread
between her legs and made her aware that this had probably gone far enough. “Something
better? Now let me take a wild guess as to what that could possibly be.”

He leaned in a little more. “You’ve got a dirty
mind, gorgeous. Not that I’m complaining.”

Before she could protest that if anyone had a
dirty mind it damn well wasn’t her, he tapped her chin again. “Dinner. There’s
a nice Italian place on the corner of

Dortman
Street
. You can shout me a pizza. Tonight. Seven?”

“Can’t make tonight.”
Or any other night
.

“Tomorrow works out even better as it happens.
It’s a date.”

“Not going to happen. I’m off men.”

One of his eyebrows quirked as a dangerous,
predatory gleam flashed in his blue eyes. “Interesting.”

She cocked her hip. “That wasn’t a challenge.”

“Didn’t take it as one. But how about I make a
deal with you? You press that button and the lift moves, you meet me tomorrow. Agreed?”

“You’re pushy, I’ll give you that.”

“Pushy and hungry.”

The way his gaze moved over her left no doubt
about the hungry part. Her insides skipped and her face heated, the warmth
between her legs now flooding her panties. It was a heady feeling to have a
man, a virile, exceptionally attractive man, come on to her. Maybe, as the
girls had tried to convince her last night, it was time to get back in the
saddle and bury Trevor’s cruel accusations forever.

And then there was that promise she’d made to
herself mere moments ago. She took a deep breath. “Okay. If the elevator moves
I’ll meet you tomorrow. Seven.”

“Good. You know the place?”

She nodded.

He regarded her for long moments. “Let me tell
you something.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “If you bite your lower lip that
way one more time, I’m going to need a down payment.”

“On what?”

“On dinner. I’m hungry for pizza tonight, yet here
you are making me wait a full twenty-four hours.”

“You can have pizza whenever you like. Don’t
wait on me.” His close proximity and the way his gaze swept the contours of her
mouth had her nerves dancing a fiery tango. Hell. She would have to find some
way to avoid seeing him. The way he made her feel when he looked at her meant
there was only one way the evening would end. She couldn’t chance that. It was okay
to indulge in little flirtations, dalliances that were fun at the time but
didn’t lead anywhere. She maybe wasn’t ready for anything else. Yet.

She angled her chin into the air. “To be honest,
I’m not into Italian and like I said, I’m off men. You should go find someone
else to share your pizza.”

He was still too close for her comfort levels
and that damn mouth was altogether too tempting for any woman, let alone one
sworn off men.

“So what happened? With the guy who screwed up,
and in the process did untold damage to the rest of us?”

“Like I’m going to blurt out the disaster that
is my personal life to a complete stranger.” Or anyone else outside her three
closest friends. “Just let me say that right now I’m not your best bet for what
you have in mind.”

Hell and damnation. If only she was. As one
side of his mouth slid higher than the other when he grinned back at her, she wished
with everything she had that she could take this where it could so easily go. But
she couldn’t chance another rejection right now, not when her fragile
confidence was teetering on the brink of extinction.
 
 

“Okay, let’s take care of the complete stranger
part.” He held up his hand, offering it to her. “Ethan Monroe. And as far as
what I have in mind goes, gorgeous, all I did was invite you for pizza.”

She dragged her gaze from his mouth and into an
equally compelling hot, cobalt gaze. “Pizza, as a euphemism?”

“Now, I’m not about to share that sort of information
with a complete stranger,” Ethan parodied.

Her lips twitched. God. There was something
about him. She brought her hand up between them to meet his. “Amber Green.”

He didn’t step back as she’d hoped, but curled
his fingers around hers and squeezed. “Amber Green. Appropriate,” he murmured.
“Surname, same color as your eyes.”

Amber swallowed. It didn’t help that he looked
into her same-color-as-her-surname eyes the way he was doing. The dampness
between her legs was in danger of thoroughly soaking her panties.

As if he sensed her growing arousal, he moved
in so that his chest brushed her breasts. “Now we’ve gotten the formalities out
the way, how about that down payment?”

She swallowed again, endured another of those
sexy, cocky grins that transformed her nipples into tight, hard buds. What the
hell, she thought as the heat from his chest burned into her skin. She had to
start making good on that promise she’d made to herself at some stage. Why not
now?

Tentatively, she reached up and wrapped her
fingers around his upper arms. The muscles beneath his tee shirt were hard, as
was the bulge that pressed into her stomach. Shit. What was she doing? Was she
a glutton for punishment? Maybe, because she loved the way he looked at her,
the way his eyes darkened and the lids grew heavy. She loved the way his gaze kept
straying to her mouth as if it was the most delectable mouth known to man.

She didn’t protest as he dipped his head the
last few centimeters and their mouths fused into the kiss.

He wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t rough either. The
kiss was somewhere gloriously in between. He made her knees weaken as he ran
his tongue around her slightly parted lips before pushing full into her mouth.

Holy hell
, she thought, and kissed him back.

His arms banded around her waist, tugging her
into him. His erection pressed lustily against her lower abdomen.
Big
, she thought. Big hands, big
shoulders, big dick. She lost all ability to think about anything else when he
groaned into her mouth and his hands cupped her backside. As he lifted her
forward, his rigid length pressed hard against her. His fingers dug into her
flesh, and she felt her skirt rising up beyond her thighs.

She should put an end to this. Now. But hell, sex
in a broken down lift with a complete stranger? God. The thrill of it. And,
according to the girls, wasn’t it exactly what she needed right now? Something
to build her confidence? Make her believe in her own sexual power again? Maybe Ethan
Monroe was exactly the type of man capable of helping her do that.

Except those damn memories swiftly elbowed
aside her growing abandon in Ethan’s arms, her ex’s cruel accusations echoing
in her head like an unwanted mantra.

Panicked, she dragged her mouth from his, noting
that his breathing was as erratic and heavy as hers. “I think that pretty much
takes care of payment in full.”

He sucked in a huge breath and shook his head.
“Uh, uh. Deposit only. We’re definitely having dinner. And before you try and
protest that you’re not into me, I can guarantee that if I put my hand up your
skirt right now, I’d find you hot and slick and ready for me to finish what we
just started.”

That little observation did nothing to settle
her still raging hormones or calm her overheated blood. “So pizza really is a
euphemism.” She tried to sound haughty, to be affronted by what he’d said, but
she was still so turned on she almost begged him to do what he’d threatened.

He stepped toward her, touched his fingers to
her lower lip. “Why don’t we start with the real deal, then see how it goes?”

One half of her brain argued that there was no
harm in that, while the other screamed at her to turn him down, that she’d be
humiliated all over again. That what little of her self-esteem she’d managed to
recover and rebuild might again be destroyed. Yet the positive side of her
brain reasoned that if she gave in, Treacherous Trevor would win. Why should
she give
him
the satisfaction of
running her life, influencing her decisions, and affecting her choices?
 

“All right.” Her voice trembled around the
simple words. “But I’m not agreeing to euphemism pizza, just so you know.”

“Fair enough. Want me to pick you up?”

“No. I’ll meet you there. Seven.”

He nodded, touched his lips to hers in a brief
kiss. “I’ll be counting the hours.”

She laughed. “As if.” A man like him was
probably already mentally flipping through his who-to-ring-to-get-laid-tonight
files to ease his overheated blood and raging erection. “Can we get out of this
elevator now?”

He stepped back and bowed as he gave a
theatrical gesture with his hand.

Amber reached for the panel and pressed the
button for the fifth floor. The elevator lurched slightly then started whirring
as it began its ascent. She turned to him, eyes wide. “You really do know about
elevators.”

“Just as well, seeing as I own the company carrying
out refurb and maintenance on the system.”

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Amber took a breath as she sat behind the wheel
of her car and stared at the red fluorescent light across the road announcing
Zutini’s Pizzeria
.

It was early enough that she’d found a parking
space near the restaurant, which meant she’d be primed for an early getaway if
necessary.

She checked her appearance in the rear view
mirror, again. Her short blonde hair looked good, courtesy of the hair
appointment she’d begged them to fit in for her that afternoon. She’d convinced
herself it was all part of rebuilding her self-esteem and had nothing to do
with seeing Ethan again. Of course, she was a big, fat liar. She’d barely been
able to think of much else since yesterday and had imagined a thousand
scenarios about how tonight might pan out, all of which entailed her naked and
stretched out beneath him. The thought brought a shiver of nerves. If only one
of those fantasies could become reality and she could morph into some sort of
femme fatale who knew her way around a man’s body. But even if that were
possible, what would he think when he saw her shoulders, her back?

Amber took another breath, grabbed her bag from
the passenger seat and left the car. The sun had lost its heat, the early June
evening fresh and alive with possibilities. Amber tucked her bag underneath one
arm, then smoothed down the mid-thigh skirt of her plain lemon dress with the
other. The dress had an inbuilt bodice held in place by wide shoulder straps.
She’d taken care to cover herself with a white bolero top that hid the scars on
her upper arm.

Amber hesitated as she pushed the car door
closed. Was she being an idiot going along with this? Wouldn’t it be better to
get back in her car and drive home? It certainly would, as far as ending the
evening with sex was concerned. But she wanted to see him again, wanted to
spend the evening having fun with a man who didn’t even try to hide his
attraction to her.

Locking her car door, she yet again asked
herself what it was about him. He was what could be described as ruggedly
handsome, with that short dark hair, those hot blue eyes, the kinky grin, and a
strong, firm jaw. His body was leanly muscled and, from what she could tell
from having him pressed up against her, toned to perfection. Probably from all
that hoisting himself about in lifts.

As she walked across the street toward the
restaurant, she recalled how she’d taken him to task over his deception as
they’d traveled to the fifth floor in the errant elevator. By the time he’d
walked her to the offices of Dollison and March, where she worked as a
marketing assistant, he’d redeemed himself and she’d forgiven him. It was hard
not to, seeing as he’d charmed the pants off pretty much every female in her
office, including her sixty-something boss, within seconds of meeting them.

BOOK: Bad in Bed
4.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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