by Nicola Marsh
She spoke so softly he wondered if he’d heard right. The woman who’d worn leather underwear yesterday and kissed him as if her life depended on it today must have some serious self-esteem issues to blurt something like that.
It saddened him, to think she didn’t know exactly how amazing she was.
‘Nothing about you could ever disappoint me,’ he murmured, sliding his hands up her sides to rest on her shoulders. ‘You’re spectacular.’
‘I’m average on a good day,’ she responded drily, her lips quirked in a wry grin. ‘But I can work it when I put my mind to it.’
He chuckled, loving her sense of humour. ‘You know, I had every intention of ravaging you on my desk, right here, right now. But considering we already did the hot and steamy part yesterday, how about we backtrack a little and get to know each other?’
Her eyes widened until he could see the tiniest of green flecks amid all that grey. Like freshly mowed blades of grass against a slate path. Striking.
‘Like a date, you mean?’
She sounded puzzled, as if she couldn’t figure out why he’d want to spend time with her. Yeah, some prick must have dented her confidence real good. He could kill him for it.
‘Yeah, if you want to call it that.’
A tiny furrow appeared between her brows. ‘What do you want to call it?’
‘Extended foreplay.’ He winked, relieved to see her frown clearing. ‘Trust me, sitting opposite you at some restaurant or café, sparring with you, wondering what you’re wearing beneath your clothes, will make it all the sweeter when I get you naked later.’
Her breath whooshed out in a little exhalation as her colour deepened. ‘Just so you know, I’m out of my depth here.’
‘You don’t date?’
‘Rarely,’ she muttered, her honesty surprising him again. ‘But I like you.’ The beguiling pink in her cheeks turned crimson. ‘And I really like what we did yesterday. So yes, I’ll go on a date with you.’
Alex had never met a woman so straightforward. The kind of women he dated were glamorous, confident and a tad whiny. They’d never articulate how much they’d enjoyed sex let alone admit they were insecure.
Charlotte was refreshing. His life might be ticking along just the way he wanted it, no roots in one place, constant travel, a healthy bank account, a stellar career, but he knew there’d been a certain repetitiveness to it lately.
Then he’d walked into that warehouse yesterday and boom! This woman had rocked his well-ordered life and hadn’t stopped since.
‘I haven’t been to Sydney in a while. Do you want me to get some recommendations for a restaurant or would you like to choose?’ He wiggled his ass. ‘I’m happy to be in your capable hands.’
As if she only just realised she still had his ass cheeks in her hands, she jumped and released him, making him chuckle. ‘I prefer simple food over fancy.’
‘Me too.’
She gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment, making him yearn to do the same. ‘I love the freshness of Vietnamese food. Do you like it?’
‘Love it.’
Frankly, he’d eat a plate of roasted cockroaches if it meant spending the evening getting to know her better.
‘There’s a little hole-in-the-wall café near my place. I practically live there.’
She tried to wriggle out of his grasp and he released her. But not before swooping in for another kiss. He liked her gasp of surprise, that he could catch her off guard. By the reserved front she presented he guessed that didn’t happen very often.
She responded to him immediately, as she had earlier, open-mouthed, clutching at him, eager. Major turn on. Huge.
He wrenched his mouth away from hers before he reneged on his plan to take things slower after the fiery start they’d had.
‘I’m hungry,’ he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Vietnamese first.’ He leaned in to whisper in her ear. ‘You later.’
He heard the faintest of stifled moans and it shot straight to his straining cock. They had to get out of here. Now.
‘Come on.’ He grabbed her hand and opened the door, studiously avoiding glancing at the desk and thinking how badly he wanted her spreadeagled on it.
That particular fantasy would have to wait for another day.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHARLOTTE HAD LOST her mind.
Giving into an impulse for sizzling sex with a stranger was one thing. Agreeing to have a short-term fling with him was another.
She’d been powerless under his onslaught of charm.
You’re spectacular.
She was so far from spectacular it wasn’t funny, but when Alex looked at her, he made her feel wanted in a way she’d never experienced.
He had this hold over her she couldn’t explain. As if she could do anything and be anyone around him.
Maybe it was the transient nature of their liaison. Maybe it was the fact he was totally wrong for her. Whatever it was, she’d agreed to spend time with him for the next four weeks and she’d never felt so alive.
Even now, sitting across from him at her favourite Vietnamese restaurant, the place seemed less dingy and the prawn spring rolls more delicious.
‘Do I have mint in my teeth?’ He paused with a lettuce-wrapped spring roll halfway to his mouth. ‘You’re staring.’
‘Just admiring the view.’
She shrugged, like it meant little being so open, when in fact she wasn’t used to giving men compliments.
He smiled and she felt that same little hitch in her chest since she’d first laid eyes on him strolling into that back room at the warehouse. ‘If you’re trying to soften me up, you don’t have to.’ He crooked his finger and leaned forward, cupping his mouth to say in an exaggerated whisper, ‘I’m definitely easy so you can have your wicked way with me later.’
She laughed, a loud burst that had her slapping her hand over her mouth.
‘You’ve got a great laugh, don’t stifle it.’ He tilted his head, as if studying her. ‘I may be pushing my luck here, considering you’ve already agreed to hang out with me for my time in Sydney. But I want you to make a concerted effort not to hold back with me, okay?’
He relaxed into his chair again. ‘I like spontaneous.’ His eyes fixed on her mouth, making her tingle all over. ‘Like how you were yesterday, giving in to your first impulse. Go with that.’
She knew he wasn’t just talking about the sex. But as long as she couched their fling in purely physical terms, she could protect her heart.
Because that was her greatest fear in agreeing to be reckless. That he’d walk away without looking back, just as he’d stipulated, while she’d be left nursing a slightly broken heart because she’d been dumb enough to fall for him despite trying otherwise.
‘I’m not that person,’ she said, mortification making her voice wobble a tad. ‘I carefully consider options and make calculated decisions. It’s what makes me a good accountant. But socially...’ She grimaced. ‘I’m awkward. Guys know it. Which is why I’ve never had a long-term boyfriend and haven’t dated since uni.’
His mouth dropped open and the spring roll in his fingers plopped onto his plate. ‘Never?’
She bit her bottom lip and shook her head, embarrassment making her want to slink under the table. ‘I finished uni three years ago. Since then I’ve been establishing myself professionally and working towards buying my own home.’
She held up her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. ‘I’m this close to achieving my goal. I’ve found my dream house. So I guess working hard doesn’t leave much time for dating.’
He looked at her with a blatant scepticism she found disarming. ‘You finish work at five. That leaves plenty of time to date.’
Charlotte wished she’d never started this. There was honesty and there was revealing too much. She’d done the latter. Now she
’d have to tell him the rest, every mortifying moment.
‘I prefer fictional men to the real thing. They don’t disappoint.’
The corners of his mouth quirked. ‘Care to tell me why I’m the exception?’
Her infernal blush returned, probably making her cheeks glow an alarming fire-engine red. ‘You’ll laugh.’
He held up his hand. ‘Promise I won’t.’
She’d come this far, she had nothing to lose in telling him all of it. Besides, she couldn’t embarrass herself more than she already had. ‘I’m close to putting a deposit down on my dream house. Which means I can follow through with the rest of my plans.’
‘Go on.’
‘I don’t want to live in the house alone. I want a husband. Kids. The works.’ She sighed at how embarrassingly corny it sounded articulated out loud to a man of the world like Alex. ‘The kind of family life I never had.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Your parents are dead?’
They might as well be for all the time she’d spent with them growing up. They’d missed her first day at school, countless award presentations, the day she made the softball team, her graduation. She’d never forgiven them for it.
‘They’re teachers for an international welfare organisation. I got dumped on my aunt Dee from the time I could walk and talk. Well, not that early, but they left when I turned six. They’ve flown in to Sydney on a whim a few times over the years, never announcing their arrival and they fly out again just as fast. Other people’s kids are more important to them than their own.’
He quickly masked his initial appalled reaction. ‘You’re their only kid?’
She nodded, bitterness making her nudge her plate away. ‘Aunt Dee is amazing. She’s quirky and fun and loving. She raised me, and I consider her more my mum than my biological mother.’
Pity darkened his eyes. ‘She’s the one who runs the online business that rented space in my warehouse?’
‘That’s the one.’
His lips eased into a full-blown smile. ‘I have to meet her, if only to thank her for giving her niece excellent taste in lingerie.’
She gave him a look. ‘You know I don’t wear that stuff all the time.’
‘Actually, I don’t.’ He lowered his voice and it rippled across her as if he’d caressed her skin with his fingertips. ‘But I intend to find out, every single day for the next month.’
The bitterness clogging her throat evaporated under the onslaught of his charm. ‘You’re definitely the bad boy I pegged you for.’
Realisation lit his eyes and he snapped his fingers. ‘So that’s why you agreed to this fling. The good girl wants a bad boy before she settles down.’
‘Something like that.’
‘In that case, honey...’ He held out his wrists to her, as if ready for handcuffing. ‘I’m all yours, do your worst.’
She loved his overt flirting, the easy way he made her smile. ‘Keep eating, otherwise the main course will never arrive.’
While he did as he was told and she savoured the succulent prawns in their crispy pastry shells, she couldn’t help but feel glad she’d told him everything.
Well, almost everything.
He’d find out the rest soon enough, when they made it back to her apartment for dessert.
And she wasn’t thinking about Abby’s delectable pastries in her fridge.
This fling could be just what she needed before settling down to the serious business of finding her dream man to go with the dream house.
As long as she didn’t cast Alex in that role, she’d be fine.
She’d never be so foolish as to do anything like that.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MAYBE ALEX’S IDEA to have dinner before getting his hands on her had been a bad idea. He’d envisaged extended foreplay; he hadn’t expected to want to simply...touch her.
Not in a sexual way, but when she’d started telling him all that stuff about her folks and her lack of experience with men, he’d wanted to bundle her into his arms and never let go.
And that wasn’t him.
He could deal with fun and flirty. Dangerous and dirty.
Emotions, he steered clear of. They bred dependency and complications and contempt. He’d seen what they’d done to his dad and he lived with the fallout of that tragedy every frigging day. It drove him, that unrelenting desire not to end up like his father—depressed, suppressed, a shadow of his former self before he ultimately ended his life.
Growing dependent on one person for happiness was a fool’s errand. He sure as hell was no fool.
Hearing Charlotte talk about her folks had reminded him of how long it had been since he’d visited his mum. He rarely returned home to the outback town in northern New South Wales that held nothing but bitter memories. But he flew her to whatever city he was working in once a year, out of obligation.
On those tension-fraught visits they made polite small talk like two strangers. Something he guessed they were, considering the yawning emotional gap between them since his dad’s death.
They never spoke about him. Ever.
He’d tried. Once. After the funeral. She’d shut him down. And Alex had maintained the awkward status quo for the last eight years.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Charlotte propped in the doorway between her small kitchen and lounge room, where he’d taken a seat as instructed when they’d entered her flat.
The place was neat yet cosy. Minimalist furniture. Bright rugs. Overflowing bookshelves. The contrast encapsulating this intriguing woman perfectly.
‘Yeah. You. Naked. Here.’ He patted his lap, his grin lascivious.
He liked seeing her smile. She should do it more often, to alleviate those shadows that lurked behind the grey depths of her eyes.
Her honesty over dinner had surprised him. Telling him about her inexperience with men, her frugal dating history, her parents... He’d wanted to know more about her since their initial encounter. He guessed he’d got his wish.
But at what cost? Growing closer to Charlotte, a deepening of intimacy beyond sex, could only end in disaster. She’d virtually told him as such, in her revelation about her dream.
She almost had the house, then she wanted the man.
He could see it so clearly. Some clean-cut man in a respectable profession. Probably a teacher. A banker. Maybe another accountant. Moving into Charlotte’s dream house, making perfect babies, to go with her perfect life.
She deserved her dream.
Then why did the thought of her settling for sedate when she hadn’t really lived yet bug the hell out of him?
He could have settled. Had the life his parents had. Marriage, mortgage, a kid. But he’d seen what that life could turn into and he wanted no part of it.
Ever.
‘I was asking if you wanted a drink. Or dessert?’
‘Only if I can eat it off you.’ He stood and stalked towards her, one thing on his mind to obliterate the mood that thinking about the past never failed to elicit.
‘On that note, I have a surprise for you.’ She pointed at the sofa. ‘But you have to sit and promise not to move.’
‘Not promising anything,’ he said, but he did as she instructed, intrigued by this playful side of her.
‘See those boxes?’ She pointed to an open door leading to a bedroom, filled to overflowing with boxes. ‘That’s all the stuff I packed up yesterday and there might just be more things I can try on and model for you, if you’re game?’
He made a strangled sound and flopped back on the sofa. ‘Stop. You’re killing me.’
She laughed, a soft provocative tinkle that had him eyeing her with newfound respect. ‘I figure that I became this hot, confident woman wearing that lingerie, it can’t hurt to try again, right?’
‘You don’t need any of that stuff,’ he said, suddenly serious amid
their light-hearted banter. ‘The way we sparked? That’s all you, babe.’
She flushed, her smile coy. ‘Thanks, but I need to do this for me, okay?’
He nodded. ‘Okay. Should I give scores out of ten for these outfits?’
‘Only if you want me to use those painful-looking clamps I spied yesterday around a certain part of your anatomy.’
He winced and she laughed again. ‘Be back in a minute.’
While he spent his life on the road and adventure was his middle name, sexually he’d never been into the kinky stuff. Or half the apparatus he’d glimpsed at the warehouse yesterday. Give him an armful of warm, sexy woman and he was a happy man. About to get happier as Charlotte peeked around the door, her cheeks a fetching pink.
‘I’m not so sure about this...’ She trailed off, sucking her bottom lip in. ‘Nice in theory but now that I’m wearing it, I’m still a chicken at heart.’
‘You’re not a coward.’ He eyeballed her, hoping to convey with one look how attractive he found her, with or without the sexy lingerie. ‘You’re a strong, confident woman who’s taking control of her sexuality and indulging in a little fun. Nothing scary about that.’
His words hit the mark as her head tilted up and she opened the door wider.
Leaving him gobsmacked.
If that faux-leather black number she’d worn yesterday had turned him on, this sheer red chiffon thing shot him into the stratosphere.
It looked like an extremely short nightie that ended at the tops of her thighs, held up by the thinnest spaghetti straps. It fell loosely from top to bottom, making it shapeless. But the fact he could see straight through it, revealing dips and curves, and some equally sexy underwear, made him want to sit up and howl.
‘Too much?’
She sounded uncertain and doubts clouded her eyes again.
He had to show her exactly how incredible she was.
‘You’re exquisite,’ he said, surging to his feet. He had to get his hands on her. Now.
‘Uh-uh.’ She waggled her finger at him. ‘You’re just looking for now.’
