by Heidi Rice
‘Where shall we go?’ she asked.
‘I don’t care, as long as there’s a bed and it’s no more than a couple of minutes away.’ He dragged her out into the street, flagged down a cab. ‘Take us to the nearest five-star hotel, buddy.’
‘Right you are, mate.’
The cabbie grinned through the partition, the knowledge in his eyes making Tally’s cheeks heat.
What was that about? She never blushed. And she’d started this ball rolling. She wanted this, wanted to feel the heat and the desire consume them both—so why did this feel way outside her comfort zone?
It took less than five minutes to arrive at a boutique hotel wedged between two sky-high office blocks. And only a few more to book a suite. But by the time the door of the palatial room closed behind them, she had failed to get her breath—or her equilibrium—back.
He threaded his fingers through hers to draw her into the bedroom. But as he sat on the large king-size bed and positioned her between his knees, her heartbeat stumbled again, and then galloped. Her clit was so hard and swollen it hurt, but when he cradled her cheeks, she had to grip his shoulders to keep from falling.
‘Why so quiet, Tally? Are you okay with this?’
She found her voice at last. ‘Of course this is what I want. This is what we’re good at.’
His fingers brushed the backs of her knees, then curled around her thighs to pull her against him. She could see the epic tent in his pants. Could feel the clench of her muscles at the thought of that huge cock driving into her again. Driving her towards oblivion. But when she reached for his fly, he clasped her wrist to lift her fingers to his lips. It was something he’d done several times during the evening. Something that she would have considered cheesy once. But not tonight.
Then the raw emotion on his face stopped her cold. ‘Don’t,’ he murmured.
‘Don’t what?’ she asked, stalling for time. Scared that he had already seen too much.
‘Don’t pretend sex is all you want.’
She jerked her hand out of his. ‘Of course it is.’
‘What are you so damn afraid of, Tally? We went past just sex this afternoon.’ His brows lowered. ‘Hell, we went past it last night, even if neither one of us wanted to admit it. But I’m admitting it now.’
‘We’re both on edge. We need to take the edge off,’ she said, desperate to believe that was all it was. That the huge swelling in her chest, the aching pain in her heart was nothing to do with the longing to have more with him and everything to do with the sexual tension, snapping in the air like static electricity after a long night of foreplay.
He reached up to clasp her neck and rested his forehead against her chest. His hands rose to cup her naked bottom, his thumbs riding the cleft of her arse, but the stroke was gentle, exploratory, as if he were scared to take things further. To take more.
He lifted his head finally, and looked into her face. ‘I’m more than willing to fuck you into next week, but it won’t take the edge off. Because you’re not being honest with me. Say you feel it too. Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk out on me tonight.’
‘I’m not planning to walk out on you. I’m here, aren’t I?’
‘Yeah, you’re here, but you’re not planning to stay.’
How did he know that? ‘This can’t work, not after tonight.’
‘Why not?’
‘You barely know me.’
‘I know more about you than you think. I know you use sex as a means of keeping guys at a distance. Because I’ve been doing the exact same thing for three years.’ His lips quirked, the spike of humour making her heart stutter again. ‘Well, not with guys, obviously. But you get me.’
‘Please, Brent, I don’t want to talk. I’ve been ready to jump you all evening.’ Her gaze flicked down to his fly. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t feel the same way. Tent poles don’t lie.’
He barked out a laugh, then, gripping her around the waist, picked her up and pitched her onto the bed.
She scrambled up on her elbows, his strength and the ease with which he handled her as arousing as the rest of him. But then he climbed on top of her. Caging her in, his body pressing hers in to the mattress. She took ahold of his shirt and ripped it apart. Buttons popped as she bared him to the waist, took advantage of the hard muscular chest she’d revealed. His pecs bunched as she skimmed her palms down to his waist.
‘Uh-uh!’ Gripping her wrists, he yanked them above her head, manacling them in one hand and anchoring them to the bed.
She struggled against his grip, trying to free herself. He didn’t budge. And suddenly his strength was rather more annoying than arousing. ‘For goodness’ sake, I’m desperate here.’
‘Yeah, I get that.’ His eyes trailed down to her straining cleavage. ‘But there’s gonna be no instant gratification until you talk to me.’
‘You call this instant? We’ve been waiting most of the night. And I don’t want to talk anymore, I want action.’
‘Did someone mess with you, Tally? Is that why you’re so determined to pretend this is only sex?’
No way, he couldn’t possibly know that. It was just a lucky guess.
She bucked again, but no joy. ‘What makes you think this isn’t exactly what I want? Maybe I prefer no-strings sex. And I don’t want commitment.’
‘No point in using the C word to scare me off. It won’t work.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yeah, you do. And I get it, Tally.’ His voice took on a persuasive tone, the understanding in his gaze slicing right through her belligerence. ‘My ex-wife made me feel like shit and I believed her. If someone did that to you too, you can tell me about it. I won’t judge, I swear.’
How could he see so much, so easily? When no other man had ever even bothered to look? ‘Fine. Yes, there was someone. But he was an arsehole and I dumped him. End of story.’
‘What did he do?’ he said softly, cutting through the last of the defences she’d worked so hard for so long to keep in place.
‘Why do you want to know?’ How could she tell him what an idiot she’d been?
‘Jesus, Tally, isn’t it obvious? Because I care about you. I want to take this further. And I think you do too. But how can we do that if you won’t level with me?’
She could see he meant it. ‘We can’t take it further.’
‘Why not?’
Because you won’t care about me once you know.
She shook her head, tried to free her wrists. She couldn’t tell him the truth. That she’d been a fool. That Henry had used her, and she’d let him. She should have guessed why he could never meet her on weekends. Why he never gave her a home number. Why he always came to hers, and never wanted her to come to his. She’d thrown herself at him, adored the attention, the sex, had assumed it meant so much more—and had never once questioned why he would want her. Ultimately, she’d been no better than all those women she’d despised as a child who had thrown themselves at her father.
‘Come on, Tally, give me an answer I can understand. Why not?’
‘Because I’m scared, okay. I’m terrified.’ The words burst out before she could stop them. ‘I thought I loved him. I thought he loved me. And I was wrong. All I was to him was an available fuck when his wife wouldn’t put out. I can’t go through that feeling again, of being nothing. Of being so ashamed. Of longing for something and then feeling like I don’t deserve it.’
To her horror tears seeped out of her eyes and the choking sensation in her throat got worse. Cutting off the words, making it impossible for her to lead with her anger. Humiliation scoured her cheeks. She shut her eyes. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t want him to see her.
‘That’s bullshit, Tally. He was married, not you. He was the one that lied. Why should you feel bad abo
ut that?’
‘Because I never asked. Because I didn’t care.’ She bit her lip, the feeling rushing up her torso like a pressure cooker about to blow.
‘Yes, you did care,’ he said with complete conviction. ‘Or you wouldn’t still be so cut up about it now.’
Climbing off her, he scooped her up in his arms.
God, what was happening to her? It felt as though everything was disintegrating. All the anger and the fear she’d held inside for so long crumbled like a wall of dust until all that was left was the hurt—the great big gaping wound in her torso opening up to suck her inside.
The first sob wrenched up from her stomach and burst out of her mouth. Then the tears flowed and wouldn’t stop. The same tears she’d refused to shed two years ago cascaded out of her now. On a wave of misery.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got you.’ His hand rubbed her back as she nestled her head under his chin. She curled into the solid, steady warmth he offered. She wanted to disappear into him, to roll herself into a tiny ball and blow away—the way she had as a child, when she could hear her mother crying and her father’s shouted denials. Blaming the women he’d screwed—for leading him on, for being whores—instead of admitting that he was the one who’d been in the wrong.
The sound of her sobs was brittle and hoarse, hacking coughs of emotional pain. But above it she could hear Brent’s deep soothing voice saying, ‘It wasn’t you, Tally, it was him.’
She heard the steady thunder of his heart as the wrenching sobs finally began to subside.
‘He sounds like a real arsehole-ed-ness.’ His murmur had a laugh choking out.
‘It’s not a noun.’ She gazed at the handsome face above her, and the last few jagged edges inside her smoothed over at what she saw. Not judgement, or disgust, but simple understanding. ‘But yes, he definitely was.’
‘More than me?’
‘Much more than you. You’re not an arsehole. You’re not even a hard-ass.’ She touched his cheek. ‘You great big faker.’
He tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. ‘Guilty as charged.’
The gesture made her realise what a mess she must look. This was not how she had intended the night to end. She tried to climb off his lap—beyond mortification now the storm had passed. ‘I should go.’
His hands tightened on her waist. ‘Nothing doing.’
‘This isn’t...’ Oh, god, this was embarrassing. She was supposed to be bold and fearless, the Blind Date Bitch. And instead she’d behaved like a hysterical muppet. Over something that had happened two years ago! She didn’t give a shit about Henry anymore. Where had all that anguish come from?
His knuckle tucked under her chin. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Honestly? I feel like a complete tit. A complete tit who’s probably having the bad hair day from hell.’ She swiped a finger under her eye, examined it for signs of runny mascara. ‘Please tell me I don’t have panda eyes, or I may have to shoot myself.’
He chuckled as his gaze glided over her hair. ‘No panda eyes and the bad hair suits you. Okay?’
Her heart jumped into her throat at the affectionate tone. ‘It’s been an exhausting couple of days.’
His fingers found the tab of her zip and pulled it down. ‘Then let’s destress.’
She jolted. The shudder of arousal almost as shocking as the purpose in his gaze.
‘What was that you said to me last night about being my sex toy?’ he asked, flicking open the hook on her bra.
‘You cannot be serious?’ Could he? ‘I must look about as desirable as a wet dish-rag.’
He kissed the tip of her nose, the touch of his lips unbearably gentle as his warm palm stroked up her spine and pushed her bra straps off her shoulders. ‘Then I guess I’ve got a thing for wet dish-rags.’
She felt it then, the hard ridge beneath her bottom. ‘Goodness, you are serious.’
‘Deadly.’ His fingers paused in their exploration. ‘But how about I be your sex toy this time?’
She grasped his cheeks, impossibly touched by the offer. She’d lost control, and now he was giving it back to her. She pulled him towards her, able to hold back no longer. ‘Yes, please.’
She was through being a coward. Through pretending that this meant nothing when it could mean something wonderful. She was through feeling shitty about something that had never been her fault. And through pretending that she didn’t deserve to be happy.
She covered his mouth, feasting on those firm sensual lips that she’d come to adore. His tongue duelled with hers as he answered her with a hunger of his own. But when she tried to push him back onto the bed, he held her hands.
‘Are you sure, Tally? Because I want more from you than tonight. A lot more.’
Joy and longing and anticipation flooded through her at the declaration. Her own needs and wants too huge to contain as the last of the fear ebbed away.
‘You’ve got more.’ How could she have thought, even for a moment, that she would be able to resist him? That she would want to?
His grin was quick and really rather pleased with itself. So she simply had to tease. ‘But that still makes you my sex toy for tonight.’
He chuckled, the sound rich and full of promise. Releasing her wrists, he lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Sure, a deal’s a deal. Tonight you get to call the shots.’
She rubbed her hands together, laughing with happiness and no small amount of excitement. Having this sexy, gorgeous, superhot man at her disposal for the rest of the night would have been spectacular enough, but thinking about all the dates to come put it right past spectacular to...well, epic.
Reclining on the bed, she raised her knees, giving him a tantalising peek beneath the hem of her dress.
His breath rumbled out on a tortured groan.
The smile on her face reached ear-to-ear proportions. Oh, yes, tomorrow had the potential to be epic, but tonight it was time to have fun. Dirty, sexy fun.
Inching the cool chiffon up quivering thighs, she watched his pupils go dark with lust. ‘Okay, big guy. It’s time to go down or go home!’
* * *
The Twitter account of @BlindDateBitch closed the following day, with a final tweet:
#EndRule: The #EpicHotLoverHunt is over, my tweeps, & @BlindDateBitch is signing off—4evah—tweeters, I’m dating him! smug smile
* * * * *
About the Author
USA TODAY bestselling author Heidi Rice lives in London, England. She is married with two teenage sons (which gives her rather too much of an insight into the male psyche) and also works as a film journalist. She adores her job, which involves getting swept up in a world of high emotions, sensual excitement, funny, feisty women, sexy, tortured men and glamorous locations where laundry doesn’t exist. Once she turns off her computer, she often does chores (usually involving laundry!).
Books by Heidi Rice
Cosmopolitan Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin
10 Ways to Handle the Best Man
Harlequin POP!
Movie Bliss: A Hopeless Romantic Seeks Films to Love (On sale now!)
Harlequin KISS
Too Close for Comfort (June 2013)
Maid of Dishonor (September 2013)
Beach Bar Baby (June 2014)
Harlequin Presents Extra
Heidi has a further 12 titles available as ebook that were published in Harlequin Presents and Harlequin Presents Extra. Check out Harlequin.com.
Do YOU want to write a story for Cosmopolitan Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin?
The editors of Cosmopolitan Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin are looking for new writers with fresh voices and entertaining romances. The editors review each and every submission looking for bright new talent. It could be you!
Cosmopolitan Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin are 25,000 to 30,000 word fast-paced, passionate romances for today’s fun, fearless females! Set in big cities, including glamorous international locations, each features a twentysomething heroine who values her female friendships and is building a successful career. She does not need a man to make her life complete, but he is the icing on the cake! The ensuing hot romance has strong conflict, witty repartee, a fresh contemporary voice and a hero you want to spend the weekend in bed with.
Complete details on how to submit at http://www.harlequin.com/harlequincosmo
ISBN-13: 9781460339602
10 Rules to Sex Up a Blind Date
Copyright © 2014 by Heidi Rice
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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