Crossing her arms over her bare breasts, she wriggled out of his grip and stepped out of the tub.
‘Hey, come back here. You haven’t given me an answer,’ he said.
Grabbing a large fluffy white towel from the neatly folded pile on the vanity, she wrapped it round her dripping body.
‘Why don’t we talk about it later?’ she offered. ‘I’m not sure what I’m doing over the next week or so,’ she added, glad she sounded so blasé when she didn’t feel blasé. She secured the towel over her breasts and glanced back, fluttering her eyelashes for all she was worth. ‘And I thought you promised me more really amazing sex?’ she said, deciding that flirtation was the best defence.
She heard the splash as he followed her out of the tub. And gulped as she watched him in the mirror, her eyes devouring the sight of his naked body, glistening wet. His arm reached over her to grab another towel.
‘Are you trying to distract me?’ he murmured against her hair as she watched his reflection hook the towel around his waist.
‘Is it working?’ she asked, tilting her head to see the hot look on his face.
His hands circled her waist, tugged her back against his chest. ‘What do you think?’
Arousal charged through her system as the feel of something hard and insistent butted against her bottom through the layers of towelling. ‘Yes,’ she murmured.
Turning her in his arms, he gripped the top of her towel in his fist. ‘You know, you’re a much badder girl than I gave you credit for.’
‘Bad is more fun, remember,’ she quipped back. ‘You said so yourself.’
‘So I did.’ He pressed his lips to hers, distracting her, while he loosened her towel with a quick tug. ‘But from now on there are rules.’
‘Rules?’ She grasped the fist he had on her towel with both hands as the knot slipped. ‘What rules?’
‘For starters—’ he manacled her wrists in one hand, lifted her fingers to his lips, forcing her to let go of his fist, then whipped her towel off with the other ‘—I want you naked.’
‘Oh,’ she said, the blush spreading up her neck at the wicked grin on his face as her towel dropped to her feet. ‘Well, fine,’ she said, wrestling her hands free from his grasp. ‘But I happen to believe in women’s rights.’ She slid her hands under his towel and yanked it free. ‘Which means the same goes for you.’
He laughed, not remotely embarrassed by the powerful erection standing up against his belly. ‘Good thing I happen to be a firm believer in women’s rights,’ he said playfully, then grabbed her and hoisted her onto his shoulder. She shrieked, kicked, giggled, but didn’t struggle too hard, distracted somewhat by the upsidedown view of a very nice male behind.
‘Or you’d be in serious trouble now,’ he finished as he marched her into the bedroom. Tossing her onto the bed, he climbed up after her, the wicked gleam in his eye so full of purpose she wondered if she ought to make a run for it.
His hand gripped her ankle and he dragged her beneath him before she could make up her mind. ‘But I’m still going to want an answer.’ Cupping her hips, he cradled the thick erection against her belly. ‘Eventually.’
‘I’ll give you an answer later.’ She ran her hands over his broad shoulders, let her fingers caress the strong column of his neck and fist in the hair at his nape as he sheathed himself efficiently with the condom.
Much later.
She couldn’t think about his suggestion now, couldn’t let it ruin the rush of excitement tingling along her skin.
He grasped her hips, and she lifted up, taking his mouth in a seeking kiss. He eased into her as his tongue thrust, the penetration so deep it took her breath away. Pleasure blindsided her as he rocked in short, sharp, devastating thrusts. She built to peak with startling speed, the fanciful leap of her heartbeat, the questions racing in her head, lost in the roar of ecstasy.
‘About the next week or so.’ Jace brushed the flat of his hand over the curve of her bottom, struggling to focus his mind and sound nonchalant while his body was still humming. ‘What’s your answer?’
‘Hmm?’ Her soft breasts snuggled against his side as her nose pressed into his neck and her hand rested against his chest.
He hoped to hell she couldn’t feel the way his heart was battering his ribs.
‘I want to do more of this.’ He turned his head, placed a kiss on her forehead. ‘How about you?’ he finished, a little surprised he was having to press the point.
Why hadn’t she already leapt at the chance to have an affair with him?
Suggesting it had seemed like little more than a formality in the bath, given the way she’d responded to him so far. Damn it, she’d nearly passed out when he’d put his mouth on her—and watching her come apart like that had been exquisitely arousing. But instead of agreeing to the suggestion, she’d been instantly evasive, just like when he’d asked her about her past over dinner. And he’d had to face the unthinkable prospect that she might say no.
He wasn’t so arrogant as to believe every woman wanted to jump into bed with him, but the sexual chemistry between them was explosive. Any fool could see that. She wanted him all right. She wanted him a lot. So why had she refused to give him a straight answer? Was there some problem he wasn’t seeing? And why had the thought that there was a problem piqued his curiosity about her even more? Usually if a woman put up any resistance he backed off instantly. But with her he couldn’t seem to let it go.
It had been a long time since he’d been stupid enough to let his sex drive dictate his actions. But even knowing he should probably back off, he knew he wasn’t going to.
He had close to two weeks in London to meet a series of European buyers and deal with his ex-wife’s solicitors—so he could sell Artisan and finally shove the skeletons of his past back in the closet they had lurched out of and forget about them for good.
For a man who had spent the last fourteen years of his life working eighteen- to twenty-hour days—and playing pretty hard in the hours that were left—the next thirteen days spread out before him like a long, slow canter into extreme boredom. The fact that it was Christmas wasn’t a big help either.
He wasn’t a fan of the festive season. All that false bonhomie and conspicuous consumption got on his nerves—and having to endure it in the place he’d struggled so hard to get out of was going to add a nice thick layer of irritability to his aversion. Sure, the five-star luxury of The Chesterton was a far cry from the cramped council flat in Shepherd’s Bush where he’d grown up—which was the main reason he’d booked the best suite here, the difference proving to him just how far he’d come from that unhappy troublesome kid—but he’d left this city for a reason, and being forced back here by Helen and her recent interference in the company hadn’t improved his disposition one bit.
Until Cassie had leapt into his car with an indignant scowl on her cute face and those deliciously full breasts spilling out of her drenched coat.
He gripped her waist and jostled her slightly. ‘So, Cassidy, what’s it to be?’ he murmured into her hair, her enticing cinnamon scent made even more tempting mixed with the fresh scent of the hotel’s vanilla soap. He imagined all the fun they could have together as he waited for her to reply, ready to do some serious persuasion if she didn’t give him the answer he wanted.
The next two weeks would be the opposite of boring with Cassie in his bed. So he wasn’t about to let her give him some lame excuse. A grin split his features, and luckily she happened to be uniquely susceptible to his powers of persuasion.
Having taken a moment to mull that satisfying fact over in his head, he tilted his chin down to peer into her face. And the smug smile vanished.