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The plan was definitely not letting him steal her heart the way she'd, for years, stolen his damn clothes...
Excerpt:
Feeling very much the evil seductress, she bent her head to his ear and felt him go motionless beneath her. “See? A part of you wouldn’t mind to go slumming with me. Don’t you hate me for being so pretty, Beckham?”
He grabbed her hips and she expected to be raised and shoved aside, but instead, angry hands pulled her down harder to his lap, shocking her.
Steel pressed into her buttocks and it took her a heart-stopping, toe-curling moment to realize it was his cock. Fully erect on his lap.
His voice tumbling into her ear, his finger’s biting into her hips, he warned her in a deadly voice, “If my sister weren’t watching, I’d show you right here and right now what would make me immensely happy.”
A streak of lightning rushed through her as his voice reached her core and he pumped his hips upward so she could feel him.
He didn't sound angry but he sounded incredibly aroused. It frightened her. It aroused her too. That definitely frightened her.
She leapt to her feet and spun around, unsettled, unsure of what to do. She grabbed her cocktail from the table and dumped the contents on his head.
“Don't count on it, Becks, I like my men with balls enough to take me when I climb into bed with them.”
And before he could react, her heart roaring wildly in her ears, she grabbed something from the table that probably belonged to him, and she blended into the crowd.
“Oh my god, why did you do that? What did he say?” her friends exploded.
Too late she realized they had all been watching. Even Calli.
“He said um, n-nothing. I’m sorry, Calli, I just…” She realized she’d taken his keys. Oh, God, she’d thought she was over this issue. But he made her too anxious and… “Can you please give these to him?” She put the keys in Calli’s hands and then she stumbled around and headed outside, her throat constricting painfully tight.
So she was back to stealing?
She hadn’t stolen anything in ten years.
She didn’t seem to steal anything from anyone except…him.
She didn’t understand why.
She swallowed as she searched her phone to call for a taxi. She didn’t want to spend the money on taxi but she didn’t want to stay here after what she’d done either. She w
anted to make peace. Some sort of closure. But her impulsive attitude with him would get her nowhere. This was such a bad idea, she didn’t even know why she’d thought, a few weeks ago, that it was a good one.
The taxi halted, and as she slid inside, someone slid behind her and slammed the door shut, putting out a hundred dollar bill and barking out an address.
Sandy turned, her mouth open in protest, but Beckham grabbed her lips with two fingers and urged them closed. “Not now,” he growled.
