Moment of Weakness: One Moment, Book 1 (2 page)

It was early yet and there were only a few dinner guests scattered amongst the crisp, white tables of the restaurant. Floor to ceiling windows back-dropped the bay, revealing a brisk autumn wind ruffling at the surface of the water. Abby followed the progress of a yacht as it scudded across the wave tops until she reckoned enough seconds had ticked by.

She took a deep breath, readying herself. Time to play.

With her mind busy conjuring up the sight she was about to walk into, Abby nearly collided with the man approaching the next table when she pushed up from her chair. One look and she sank back into her seat. Marcus. The hot consultant who’d kicked her hormones into action when she’d first arrived. Her napkin crushed into a wad in her hands and Abby resisted the urge to crawl under the table. What the hell was he still doing here? She’d presumed most of the people from Wellsford would drive back after today’s meeting. She and Logan had opted to stay at the hotel where Henry had held his off-site meeting. A short trip from boardroom to bedroom seemed logical.

Of course, it would have to be Marcus who had decided to stay in Baltimore too. Abby tried to ignore the knowing look he shot across the table. The same whiskey-colored stare that had caught her attention more than once in the boardroom today. The same one that had gotten him crossed off her list of potential bed partners the moment she’d met him. And every minute she’d seen of him since. Being in his presence roused thoughts and feelings Abby no longer had room for. He tipped her perfectly ordered world off balance.

She pulled her gaze away from his provocative stare. It was none of his business what she did with her time. Her work at Crovens was completed and as far as she knew, Marcus’s consultancy contract had finished too. Abby intended to leave first thing in the morning without seeing Logan or Marcus ever again. Perfect.

“He’s in a relationship, you know.”

Abby’s attention snapped back to Marcus and she raised her brows. His eyes locked with hers in a cold, unwavering stare. Icy fingers danced across her shoulders.

“Then I’m probably doing her a favor.” She answered with a cool smile.

Marcus leaned in. “Oh, undoubtedly you are,” he said conspiratorially. “Although I’m not sure his fiancée would see it that way.”

Fiancée.
The word struck Abby and twisted around her head to squeeze tight.

He was bluffing. Abby shook off her unease. Nothing Logan had said or done pointed to any significant other. And she could tell. She always made sure.

Or had she been so desperate to find someone—someone who wasn’t Marcus—she’d overlooked her one, big, unwritten rule?

“How do you know?” she challenged softly.

Marcus smiled and lifted his shoulders. “Check.” He nodded toward the cell phone lying next to Logan’s abandoned wine glass.

“It’ll have a password,” Abby argued. But she picked the phone up anyway. A tap of the navigation key and the screen filled with icons. Her breath caught. Expelled in relief. “See.” She waved the phone in Marcus’s direction. “If he had anything to hide, he would’ve locked it.”

“So, what will it hurt to check then?”

Something about the way he spoke, quiet and confident, made it impossible for Abby to put the phone down. He was right. What could it hurt? And wouldn’t it be better to know rather than spend precious time cooling her hormones wondering whether or not he was lying? With a flick of her thumb, Abby opened the message folder. She was determined to prove Marcus wrong.

The name at the top was Madison. Abby gave a mental shrug. Could be anyone. The air grew thick and cloying as she thumbed through the texts.
‘Sorry I can’t be there, babe’ ‘Don’t wait up for me’.
Oh, and this was the kicker:
‘You know I want you so bad’.

Abby kept the polite smile on her face as she got up. It stayed intact as she marched stiffly to the men’s room and entered, uncaring that waitstaff stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her. Three stalls faced a bank of gleaming white urinals. Two doors were open but the one at the end was partially closed. Abby stalked over and smacked it with the heel of her palm.

With pants around his ankles and dick in hand, Logan had obviously been a busy boy. He started as she smashed the door open, then his face split into a welcoming grin.

“Babe, you’ve come.”

Abby’s gaze dropped briefly to his half-formed erection. “So have you, by the looks of it.”

He smirked. “I was just thinking how a blowjob might bring me back to life.” He waggled his cock in invitation.

Abby could only stare at him, her breath coming out in a slow hiss. “If I get anywhere near your cock with my mouth, I will gnaw that fucker right off at the base.”

The expression on Logan’s face told her he believed every word.

Chapter Two

Marcus handed his menu over to the waitress and put in his order for rare filet mignon, accompanied by candied yams with roasted red potatoes. He beamed, almost humming with contentment, an emotion that didn’t come around to visit often. Marcus decided he liked the feeling. A lot.

The pretty waitress’s smile deepened. “Is there anything else I can get you, sir?”

“No thank you. I’m quite satisfied.”

If she’d been taking notice, she would’ve seen him glance at the table next to him, not the menu. As horrible as it seemed, ruining someone’s naughty night away had greatly improved Marcus’s appetite.

Actually, he hadn’t been one hundred percent sure if Logan had a fiancée. That’d been an educated guess. However, anyone looking at the jackhole could tell he probably juggled at least a fiancée, girlfriend, as well as one or two strategically placed fuck-buddies.

What had surprised Marcus was Abby, the chic, professional tax consultant putting herself up to be one of them. Though by the look on Abby’s face as she’d strutted off to the bathroom, he bet that hadn’t panned out so well for Logan.

Marcus gave a short chuckle. He’d bide his time well. Did she believe he hadn’t guessed exactly what she’d been up to from the moment they’d met? She’d assessed him, judged him, wanted him…then summarily dismissed him. He’d watched sexy Ms. Harkness walk off with Logan and had known straight away the game she was playing. And Marcus wanted in.

At least now he had her full attention.

Initially, Marcus hadn’t been sure his motives weren’t purely about winning. Okay. Yes. He’d be lying if he said a little healthy competition didn’t drive him the hardest. When he’d seen Abby and Logan flirting in the boardroom earlier, hunger for her had buzzed through his veins, along with the urge to compete. Crush. Dominate. But as soon as his eyes had lit on Abby tonight, he’d known there was more to his fascination with her. He couldn’t walk away, not without finding out more. Or without her acknowledging the sexual energy that sparked between them.

Her tight control triggered all of Marcus’s competitive instincts. He wanted to be the one with his hands on the reins. He wanted to see Abby’s self-control shatter. He wanted her to give him everything, and he wanted it more than anything he’d desired in a long, long time. He couldn’t allow that lowlife Logan to get anywhere near what Marcus now considered his.

He’d competed with guys like him all his life—arrogant trust-fund babies who bought their time in cushy jobs before being allowed to take over Daddy’s company. While Logan had been fucking his way through his million dollar allowance, Marcus had worked three times harder than anyone else. He’d learned early on that to succeed you had to know the game, gather every scrap of information and carefully calculate your chances. He made sure he always won.

Marcus tapped his thumb in a thoughtful beat against the top of the table, contemplating Abby—the smokin’ hot redhead who was all luscious curves and litheness, stretching down to her pink painted toenails. Those he had noticed, along with her long, bare legs as she’d stalked back and forth during her presentation today. Her job at Crovens was finished as far as he knew. So what was this? A last minute hoorah with Logan before she left?
Here’s my bill and fuck you very much.

The bathroom door slapped back against the wall, followed by the sound of high heels clipping across the tiled floor. Marcus kept his attention on his cutlery as the footsteps stopped beside him. Wallet and key card were snatched up from the table. A pause, and then those sharp steps snapped away in an angry staccato in the direction of the bar.

A few minutes later, a pale-looking Logan shuffled to the table. When he spotted Marcus, his back noticeably straightened and two bright spots of color flared to life on his cheeks.

“Got myself out of a close one there.” He jerked his head toward Abby’s retreating back. “What a cock-tease she turned out to be.”

Marcus fought the urge to smash his fist into Logan’s idiotic face. He breathed out his nose, his mouth stretching into a humorless grin. “You obviously didn’t have what Abby wanted,” he said blandly. “And she didn’t like the look of your fiancée when she came in looking for you either.”

The color leached from Logan’s cheeks. “Shit.” He tripped over his chair in his haste to get to his phone. “Shit. Shit.
Shit
!” Logan tapped furiously at the screen and ran out of the restaurant.

Marcus was still smiling smugly when his perfectly cooked steak arrived. Victory never tasted so sweet, and as the first forkful melted away like butter, he allowed his gaze to drift to the bar.

By the look of the drink Abby was currently pouring down her throat, she wasn’t consulting tea-leaves over the sudden downward turn in her love life. Marcus frowned. In her current mood, who knew what she might get up to? Already there were a couple of seedy-looking barflies eyeing her as an easy target. And if she was stupid enough to fall for Logan’s sleazy pick-up lines…

Marcus finished his meal, ignoring the wine to drain his glass of water. He’d need all his wits about him tonight. So would Abby. He made his way to the far end of the bar. Perhaps it was time to have a quiet word with the bartender.

Abby was nowhere near drunk enough, and it wasn’t from lack of trying. The margarita slid down her throat very nicely,
thank you
—the perfect complement to the high-pitched hiss of dissatisfaction screwing with her insides. But either her anger was burning through the alcohol or she was drinking sugar-water.

Logan. That fucker. Bitterness twisted Abby’s stomach, fusing it together with the citrusy burn of her lime-laden drink. She picked up her glass to belt back the last few swallows and looked around for the bartender to signal another.

Damn. Not nearly enough kick. Her body was fizzing, but not from the margaritas. Or the anger. Nope. Her hormones hadn’t got the message they were back on standby yet. Simply put, Abby was horny as hell—hot and ready. Promises had been made.

She scowled at the key card to the room she should be up in, getting the kinks knocked off the corners of her sexual frustration. With Logan, who’d probably scuttled back to his fiancée by now…Abby had briefly toyed with the idea of ringing his babe, Madison, and introducing herself. Poor thing. No one deserved to be cheated on.

But then, men were all the same, weren’t they? Too scared to admit monogamy didn’t work. So busy hiding their infidelities from the ones they were supposed to love, they missed seeing what love really was.

Like Nathan. If he hadn’t wanted to marry Abby, why couldn’t he have just manned up and told her? But no, he’d cheated on Abby for a year—with her sister, and everyone else in her family had known. Her own mother had never told Abby. One word, one hint, one little clue about what was happening and she might’ve been able to forgive them. Instead, they’d taken everything she’d ever loved and destroyed it.

The familiar weight of hurt and anger sat just as heavily on Abby’s chest as it had three years ago. She picked up her fresh glass and tipped it back, willing the alcohol to strike and soothe the burn of betrayal. Half of her drink disappeared before she noticed someone had sat on the barstool beside her.

Great.
Another asswipe come to try his luck while his wife no doubt waited at home. Not this time. Abby swiveled on her stool, prepared to shoot down whoever it was with her dead-man stare. Instead, she fell straight into a pair of whiskey eyes, shot with a twist of gold and a dash of amusement. Lust stroked twin fingers over her nipples, sliding across her belly and flicked her clitoris.

Abby smothered her gasp and clamped her thighs together. “What do you want?” She lowered her brow into a scowl.

“I want to know the rules.” Marcus’s stare was dark and intense as if he saw right through her. There was no mistaking his meaning.

The rules? Abby’s mouth dropped open. Of her game? Once again she was reminded of the first time she’d met Marcus and the perceptiveness she’d glimpsed. She’d known then he was not a man to toy with. But the way he was looking at her now…there was no doubt he wanted in on the action.
Oh no no no.
She snapped her mouth shut and shook her head. She wasn’t about to go there. Not with him.

“You see, I’ve been sitting here, wondering what you were doing with Logan,” Marcus continued conversationally as if he didn’t notice her outraged look. “And I think I’ve figured it out.”

All of the moisture disappeared from Abby’s mouth but she managed to unglue her tongue enough to speak. “I’m glad I could provide you with such a mind-twisting puzzle,” she retorted. “Perhaps you could consider Sudoku next time.”

Marcus’s eyes sparked with pleasure and he let out a laugh. “Quick,” he conceded. “As well as clever. But not clever enough.” He wagged his finger knowingly.

Abby’s attention was caught by the gesture of his hand as it stirred the air and she imagined those long fingers touching, petting, caressing her body. She concentrated on the level of liquid in her glass instead, knocking back another couple of inches. No point denying Marcus was a mighty fine specimen of man. Abby fixed her eyes on his business suit, sliding downward as she tried to gauge what lay underneath. Her ovaries howled, clamoring for more.

No. No. No.

“A pity you didn’t try to find out earlier.” Dismissing him, she turned back to her drink, praying he left.

Marcus chuckled, a soft sound that sent frissons of heat skittering across her skin. “Business is business, pleasure is pleasure. I concentrate fully on one. Or the other.” His gaze slipped down her body then travelled back to meet her eyes, leaving Abby in no doubt where his focus was right now.

She gulped a giant swallow of her drink and choked back a splutter.
Finish your drink and walk away. Hell, run.
It wasn’t too late.

Marcus brushed his finger across his bottom lip and Abby bit her tongue to stop herself from touching her own mouth. He leaned forward to rest his elbow on the bar between them, inviting her into his intimate cocoon.

Oh, it was
much
too late.

His scent teased her, hints of sumptuous cologne overlaid with the distinctive smell of pure, unadulterated male. Abby’s mouth watered. The top button of his shirt was open and she had a sudden, overwhelming urge to lick the tantalizing sliver of skin carelessly revealed. He was dangerous. Abby didn’t need the silent warning to recognize Marcus represented everything Logan had not. He wasn’t someone to
play
with. His demands would be a whole lot more than just sex, although Abby had no doubt the sex would be hot, hard and oh so good. A ripple of lust tracked down her body at that thought.

Abby drew in a breath and held it. She should be making a fast exit…except she’d already established it was far too late for that. Air seeped between her lips in a long, slow release.

“So tell me the rules.” His softly spoken words were an invocation of promise that feathered through her veins. Helpless, she followed the arc of his fingers as they stroked the condensation beading his glass.

Her thighs clenched tighter, but it did nothing to alleviate the throb of need pulsing low in her gut. She was burning up inside, a sinful flame of pleasure flaring hotly. Abby took another drink in an attempt to extinguish the fire.

But oh, how she wanted to play. And why shouldn’t she? The wicked idea she’d been holding back crashed into her thoughts, grabbing her and dumping her on the shore of twisted rationalization. She knew the game. She’d become an expert at keeping her emotions locked tight, not ever thinking about her bedfellows once their role was over. Why should Marcus be any different?

She couldn’t help herself. “My rules are simple.” Abby gave in to the temptation to tease. Just a little. “Only players. Only sex. And most importantly, only one night.”

His gaze swung to meet the challenge in her eyes. “And anyone can play?”

The husky words sizzled down Abby’s spine, enveloping her in their warmth.

Her insides coiled tighter.
Don’t do it!
The last remaining bastion of sanity shrieked, yelling at Abby to get up right now and leave.

To what?
The lesser-known, insane side of her curled up its lip and jeered.
To Logan?

Marcus hadn’t moved a muscle, but Abby felt like he’d shifted closer. The heat of his body drew her in, melting the last of her faltering resistance. With a rush of breath, she let herself tumble over the edge of reason.

“Do you want to play?” She heard herself whisper. A fierce light flickered in the depths of Marcus’s eyes and Abby’s heart did a slow-motion somersault.

“I’m thinking about it.” His voice was so low it vibrated all the way through her.

Her throat constricted, cutting off the flow of thickening air. A rush of liquid soaked the lace strip drawn across her clit. As if he could scent her, Marcus took a deep breath and a smile kicked at the corner of his lips. His confidence sent a shiver of alarm scudding down Abby’s spine. His smile was pure predator. And she wanted him. Oh, she wanted him badly.

What little sense of preservation she had left chose that moment to kick in, and Abby realized control of the situation was slipping through her fingers. Marcus was a steamroller, an unrelenting force that could devour her. And while the thought should have scared the shit out of her, something told Abby she needed to accept his challenge. She’d played it safe long enough. Now it was time to prove she could play as hard as the Nathans and Logans of this world.

She leaned in close and felt rather than heard his breath hitch. Marcus’s cool, spring scent hit her senses and she resisted the urge to taste…barely.

“Don’t think too long.” Abby issued her own warning.

Hiding the tremble in her legs, she gathered her belongings and slid off the barstool. His hand snaked out to grip her arm before she could make good on her escape.

“Game on.” His other arm fastened around her waist.

Abby came up against his body for a few brief seconds. And what a body it was. She stilled, half of her wanting to melt into him like processed cheese, the other taking note of exactly what she’d just encountered. This was no pampered businessman soft on lattes and late lunches. Marcus was hard, masculine power.
Raw.
The word jumped into her mind and a delicious quiver wound its way down her spine, her nipples stiffening in excitement.