by Nina Croft
She pushed open the door and found Regan sitting on the sofa in the reception area, typing on a laptop. She glanced up as Darcy walked in then plunked down on the sofa beside her.
“What’s up?” Regan asked, putting the laptop on the table in front of her and turning to face Darcy.
“I just nearly made a total, complete ass of myself.”
Regan shrugged. “Well, you can’t be perfect all the time.”
“Hah.” She rubbed her finger over the stud in her nose. She’d gotten it when she was sixteen after an argument with her father. Teenage rebellion at its most obvious. But she liked it—just as she liked her tattoos. “I knew I’d get some sympathy from you.”
“Summer’s the sympathetic one, and she’s not here. I’m the realist. Tell me all about it. I can have a good laugh, and you’ll realize it’s not the end of the world.”
She rested her head back against the leather sofa. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“Darcy Butler. The best friend ever.”
Her eyes pricked and she gave a sniff. That was something else. She never cried. Not ever. But these days, she felt teary all the time. Ugh.
“I wouldn’t have made it without you,” Regan said. “Summer certainly wouldn’t have. You made us both strong enough.”
“Ditto.” They’d helped one another.
“Okay. Tell me what happened. I won’t laugh. Promise.”
“I thought Captain Matt was going to ask me to a swanky party.”
“Go on…”
“And I was thinking about buying a dress, with long sleeves, so his friends would like me.”
“And…”
“Instead, he asked me to babysit Lulu so he could ask Diana, the super-perfect, tattoo-less, no-studs-in-her-nose nanny.” Regan’s lips twitched. “You dare laugh and I’ll punch you.”
Regan pursed her lips, no doubt to stop the laugh from falling out. She cocked her head to one side and studied Darcy. She had to hold herself still to keep from squirming. “Did you want him to ask you to the party?”
“To be honest, my brain never got as far as considering whether I wanted to go or not. It went straight to how do I turn myself into the sort of person he wants to be seen with. I don’t even like him.”
“You don’t?”
“He’s smug, and tidy, and perfect. Just like the goddamn nanny. And he reminds me of Steven.” Though that wasn’t totally true anymore. Not really. It hadn’t been for a while.
“And yet…you let him into your pants.”
She glared. “Your point?”
“Well, you’ve clearly got this whole subconscious thing going on with him. Your logical brain is telling you he’s off-limits, that he’s not your type. But underneath, there’s some serious I-want-to-fuck-you going on. Am I wrong?”
She rubbed her lower lip and remembered his penis. Yeah. She wanted to fuck that penis. It was just sad that it came attached to the rest of him. “Maybe not.”
“Aha. We’re being honest. You must be worried.”
“My dress was going to be long-sleeved and probably pink. Hell, yes, I’m worried.”
“Scary. Hmm. Could it be some sort of self-destruction thing?”
“I don’t want to self-destruct.” Did she?
“You feel you let Emma down. You don’t deserve to be happy. Blah, blah, blah.”
“I did let Emma down. But I don’t think I’m quite that bad. I’ve come to terms with it and I want to move on. I just seem stuck.”
“And maybe you’re fixating on Captain Matt because you know a relationship with him is never going anywhere. Maybe you like being stuck because it stops you from having to think about what you want to do next.”
“I do?” Was she that complicated?
“Don’t you?”
“Maybe. We’re total opposites. The only thing we have in common is Lulu. But because of Lulu, we’re in each other’s lives. Long term. If we sleep together, it won’t last. It never lasts. And I wouldn’t want it to anyway—have I mentioned he’s a boring prig?”
“He’s also a gorgeous guy, and there’s an element of the forbidden about him. Plus, it’s been way too long since you had a good shag.”
“All valid points.”
“Well, we can’t do anything about the gorgeous or the forbidden bit, because I think you’re right—it will mess things up with Lulu. Which means we’re going to have to work on the shag part. That, we can do something about.”
“I doubt it.”
“I like a challenge. Go get your glad rags on. We’re going on the pickup.”
Chapter Eleven
He should be riding on a high.
The evening had been a total success. Diana had charmed everyone. Matt gave her a quick sideways glance. They were in a cab on the way back to her place. It was after midnight.
She was a beautiful woman, her makeup was subtle, her blond hair pulled back from her face but loose down her back. She wore a dark blue dress—the word tasteful came to mind. He also knew from the time he’d spent with her that she was a nice woman. Lulu got on well with her.
Right now, he should be thinking about how to persuade her to spend more time with him. To change their relationship to a personal one. Tonight was supposed to have been a run-up to that. He’d never wanted to marry. But there was no denying that a wife would make his life easier. How many people had told him that recently?
Was that reason enough to get married?
He supposed that if they both wanted the same things out of life, why not?
She must have sensed his gaze. She’d been staring out the window, and now she turned back to him and smiled. “I had a lovely time. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“I don’t normally go out with clients.” She gave a small laugh. “Well, usually they’re married, so it’s not an option.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“I had a great time—it’s so…glamorous. All those uniforms. Like being in a movie.”
He’d never thought about it like that. But then, he usually avoided these sorts of affairs. He’d never really felt like he fitted in and had lacked the inclination to try. He’d come up from the ranks, though that had never bothered him. Truth was, he didn’t really give a toss what people thought about where he came from. He was good at his job. This part was just a necessary evil.
The cab pulled up outside her house. “Can you wait for me?” he asked the driver as he climbed out. He came around and opened the door for her, took her arm as he walked her up the driveway, and waited while she got her keys out of her bag. She put the key in the lock then hesitated and looked up at him.
He realized she was expecting a kiss…and that a kiss hadn’t even occurred to him. Hell, a few minutes ago, he’d been thinking about marriage, yet it hadn’t even occurred to him to kiss her? He lowered his head, taking her mouth with his. Her lips parted beneath his. She tasted sweet, and the kiss did absolutely nothing for him. He had an image of another mouth wrapped around his dick, and guilt made him take a step back.
It seemed like the height of bad manners to think about another woman at a time like this. But his dick jerked at the memory.
He took another step back.
“You could stay,” she said. “At least come in for a drink.”
He knew she was asking him for more than a drink. He’d even told Darcy that he might not be back. She’d given him a funny look but had just said not to do anything she wouldn’t. He wasn’t quite sure what that would entail.
“I’d better not. I told Darcy I wouldn’t be too late.”
Something flickered in her eyes. “Okay. Maybe another time.”
“Of course.”
He watched as she disappeared, and the door closed behind her. He returned to the cab and gave the driver his home address. Ten minutes later, he was opening the front door, a sense of anticipation filling him that he hadn’t felt all evening.
But the house was quiet and in dar
kness. Likely Darcy had taken herself off to the guest bedroom. And the anticipation vanished, leaving a void that he didn’t want to peer into.
Lucky escape.
He flicked on the light in the kitchen and stared at the scene of chaos that met his eyes. There was food everywhere.
She wouldn’t have gone to bed and left this mess. Would she? Something must have happened. It looked like a bomb had exploded. Or the two of them had had a food fight. Darcy must have ordered a take-away—Indian by the smell of spices and the half-empty plate of food. He hoped she hadn’t given Lulu curry, or likely they would both be sorry. How could she make so much mess in so little time? He’d only been gone five hours.
He went through into the lounge and found a similar scene of chaos. Just about every toy Lulu owned was strewn about the floor along with cushions, a pair of black boots, an empty beer bottle…
And Darcy.
He stopped short at the sight of her. She was lying on her stomach on the sofa, bare feet hanging over the end, her face buried in a cushion, her hand dangling down, clutching the baby monitoring device. Which was thankfully silent, though the green light glowed, showing it was activated.
He stood over her, staring down. She wore black leggings and a black tank top, which left her arms bare, showing the red and black ink of the tattoos down her left arm. He’d never had the chance to look at them closely. Now, he took in the intricate design. Roses and thorns. A unicorn and a phoenix. They were beautiful and a part of her.
His gaze slid down her body. The leggings were skin tight and hid nothing; she must be either wearing a thong or nothing at all beneath them. Her ass was a delectable curve, her legs long and slender, her feet arched. She wore a toe ring on her right foot and an ankle bracelet—a strand of leather and beads—around her left. Her waist was narrow. There was nothing soft about her. If anything she was too thin, and he could see the lean hardness of muscle beneath her pale skin. Her short hair revealed the long line of her neck, the black dangly earring that hung from one ear. The other had a small black stud.
For some unfathomable reason, he found her incredibly erotic, and his dick hardened in his pants.
Why the hell couldn’t he have felt like this with Diana earlier? Then right now, he’d probably be in bed with her, no doubt in a nice, tastefully decorated bedroom. Yet, he was so glad he wasn’t there. And right in that moment, he knew his fantasy about married life was just that—total make-believe.
He turned his attention back to the sleeping woman. He’d gone over in his head so many times just why this was a really bad idea.
Now he couldn’t remember any of those reasons.
As long as they were both clear about what they were getting into—nothing heavy, just a little fun between consenting adults—why shouldn’t they give in, enjoy what they both clearly wanted?
She shifted in her sleep, her ass lifting, her face snuggling farther into the cushion. He’d take her from behind, slide between those long slender thighs, and push himself deep inside her, hands gripping her hips.
His hand shifted to his dick. Hard.
There was still time to get out of there. Go give himself a wank in the shower. It would be way less dangerous.
Now he was being melodramatic. She wasn’t dangerous.
She was just a woman. One he’d been hard for since the moment he met her, that first night before he’d even known who she was.
He stripped off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, still not sure what he was going to do. If anything.
He should wake her, though. “Darcy.”
No answer. She just shoved her head deeper into the cushion.
He sank down onto the sofa beside her. “Darcy?” When she didn’t answer, he reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. Her skin was warm and soft, and his fingers nudged her gently.
She didn’t move. If anything, she went totally still. She was awake…and obviously waiting. His hand seemed to move of its own volition, his fingers trailing over her back, down the line of her spine. He could feel the bones beneath her skin. He held his breath, waiting for her to stop him, as his hand reached the small of her back and then the smooth curve of her ass. His mouth went dry as her hips rose and pushed against his palm.
His last remaining blood drained to his groin. It occurred to him to wonder just what twist of fate might interrupt them this time.
Maybe Darcy herself. She was as wary of the feelings between them as he was. And maybe with more reason than he had. He caressed the swell of her ass, no longer kidding himself that he was trying to wake her. He could feel the hardness of muscle, and he dug his fingers into her flesh, then massaged it with his palm.
He turned his attention back to her face and found her eyes open, watching him. He squeezed her buttock again, and they closed briefly.
She licked her lips, and heat sank lower, so his balls ached. He knew exactly how clever that mouth of hers was, and he wasn’t going to get sidetracked.
Tonight, he was going to be deep inside her, and from the needy expression he’d glimpsed in her eyes, he reckoned she was in agreement.
“I fell asleep,” she said. “I meant to have everything sorted out for when you got back, but she finished me off.”
“She can do that.”
“And I wasn’t expecting you back.” She pushed herself up, and he reluctantly released his hold on her ass so she could swing her legs around. She glanced at the baby monitor then placed it on the coffee table and turned her attention to him. “Sorry you didn’t get lucky.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want to get lucky.”
“Really? But the two of you are so perfect together.”
Did he detect a hint of sarcasm? Probably. “Maybe I don’t like perfect.”
“Hah.” She looked around at the chaos surrounding them. “I bet you had a heart attack when you walked in here.”
“Maybe. Until I caught sight of Sleeping Beauty and everything else vanished from my head.”
“Aw, cute.”
“You have the sexiest ass I have ever seen.”
Her eyes widened. “You’ve been eyeing up my ass while I was sleeping. That’s seriously creepy, you know.”
“Actually, it was seriously hot. And you were sleeping on my sofa, after all. I had an overwhelming urge to kiss you awake, except your face was buried in the cushions. Your ass, on the other hand, was sticking up in the air.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was just indulging in this fantasy, where I was fucking you from behind and absolutely no one interrupted us.”
She swallowed then licked her lips again. Was she doing it on purpose? He hoped so. “Are you aware I haven’t had sex in three years? You’re taking advantage of a desperate woman.”
He shrugged. “I haven’t had sex in nearly two. I’m quite desperate myself. We can be desperate together.”
“What happened to it being a mistake?”
“It doesn’t have to be. It’s sex. Neither of us is looking for anything more.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted from Diana? The perfect wife and mother.”
“Are you jealous?”
She cast him a look of scorn. “You wish.”
He blew out his breath. “A lot of people have been telling me recently that a wife would simplify my life. And as you said—Diana is perfect.” Was he trying to wind her up? Maybe a little. He reached out and stroked a finger up her arm, tracing the lines of the tattoo. She didn’t try to move away, and he continued to her shoulder, the sharp jut of her collarbone bared by the skimpy tank top, his finger settling on the rapid pulse beating at her throat.
“I don’t want perfect. Perfect doesn’t make me hot and hard.”
“What does?”
He took her hand and pressed it to his groin. His dick jerked in his pants. It wanted out. “You.” When he released her hand, she left it where it was, and he battled to think through the fog of lust. But maybe this needed to be said before he gave in to that l
ust. “I realized tonight—I don’t want a perfect wife. Hell, I don’t want any wife at all. And I sure as hell don’t want to marry just to give Lulu a mother. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
“So what do you want?” But her fingers were curving around his dick as she spoke. It must have been more than clear exactly what he wanted. Desperately.
“I want a bad girl. I want a bad girl who’s as desperate for me as I am for her. Who wants this as much as I do.” He pressed a hand down on top of hers. “But maybe I also want a friend. Someone I can ask for help when I need it. Someone I can trust to look out for Lulu when I’m not here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Hell, neither of us is the marrying type, and maybe that’s why this can work. The sex is just that—it needn’t affect anything else. That way, if it comes to the point where you want to move on, you meet someone you want more with, then we can still stay friends. And Lulu won’t be affected.”
“Sounds…logical.”
“There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be.” Except he didn’t feel logical. Right now, he felt on the edge of explosion. His dick was hard, his balls ached, and he knew that if she said no now, he’d have to sit here and let her walk away and pretend it didn’t matter.
But fuck. It mattered. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone.
“Okay,” she said.
For a second, the word made no sense. “Okay?”
“I’ll be your bad girl. But don’t read more into this than there is. This is an act of pure desperation.”
He didn’t care, and he was through talking. Without another word, he rose to his feet. Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he reached down and put his hands around her waist—he could almost span it—and lifted her off the sofa, then tossed her over his shoulder.
