Page 4 of Cash

Then I could go home to Cara.

CHAPTER ONE

“What the…” I blinked a few times to make sure my tired mind hadn’t conjured up a mirage in the bathroom. But the blinking didn’t make the sight vanish nor did it vanquish the sweet smell of jasmine that filled the small room. “…hell,” I finished on a breathy huff.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Cash drawled.

I glanced around the bathroom before my eyes once again hit the bathtub.

A tub he was currently occupying. Thick white bubbles floated on the surface of the water leaving his perfectly muscled chest on display. Not to mention his shoulders, throat, and stupidly handsome face. His tattooed arm rested on the ledge of the tub. The other was hidden under those bubbles and for a second I forgot I was pissed and wanted to know exactly where that hand was resting. Or more to the point, on which part of his body.

Gah!

“This is my bathroom,” I told him, something he knew since it was attached to the bedroom I was staying in.

“And?”

And?

I abandoned that line of questioning and started a new one. “Why are you in here?”

His answer was to look down at the bubbles.

“Seriously, Cash, I’m not in the mood for your shit.”

“You know what would get you in the mood?” He didn’t wait for me to tell him that, after the day we’d had, there was nothing that would put me in the frame of mind to deal with his shit before he answered his own question. “A nice, hot bubble bath.”

A rush of heat flooded my veins, but it was the pulsing between my legs I was most ashamed of.

I cocked my head to the side. “Is that an invitation?”

“It’d be a tight fit, baby girl, but my lap’s free.”

Cash’s hand came off the ledge, and he patted the bubbles above said lap, making them disperse. Not enough to clear the way for me to get an eyeful of what treasure was hiding beneath, but enough to snap me out of my haze.

The man was a hard pass.

He had to be.

It didn’t matter that from the moment I’d clapped eyes on Cash Phillips, my first thought was he’d be a fun distraction. And by fun distraction, I meant, upon first glance, I’d decided I was going to tear his clothes off and fuck him silly. And when he opened his pretty mouth and out spewed outrageous taunts, my need to watch him fall to his knees and beg for a taste grew. It wasn’t until I realized how much I enjoyed our banter that my desire to see him laid out before me, wearing nothing but one of his sexy smirks with his undoubtedly impressive cock on offer had died.

I didn’t fuck men I enjoyed being around or ones I respected. Sure, I had to like them on some level—but life had taught me that like was subjective and sometimes the only thing I liked about the men who I took to my bed was their good looks. And for a woman who had nothing to offer and who wasn’t going to stick around for a cuddle or breakfast, there was no sense in pretending otherwise.

I was who I was.

Or rather, I had been who I was.

Now I was someone different.

Which made Cash a walking, talking, sexy-as-hell temptation that I would not give into.

“Thanks, but hard⁠—”

“Nothing’s hard yet, but hop in and we can change that.”

I really wished I was one of those women who found arrogant men a turn off. The truth of it was, the more arrogant they were the more attracted I was.

It was a character flaw.