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Before he could stop himself, desire and fatigue pushed him further than he’d meant to go. He reached up, fisting his hand in all that softness, and dragged her closer. All he could see was her big, brown eyes and her wet, parted lips—
She shook herself as if she’d just emerged from a trance. “Yes.” When he only stared at her, she smiled slyly. “You’re on.”
No. This could not happen.
Firstly, she was almost a…friend. At least they’d had occasionally friendly conversations. He had business associates, of course, and people in town he could talk to about any number of banal subjects to pass the time. But ones he’d known since he was a kid and trusted with his most important project, Simply Home? No. There weren’t any.
Secondly, he craved her in ways that were probably illegal in thirty states.
Thirdly, he was so damn hard he couldn’t even think anymore, never mind come up with reasons not to do something he really fucking wanted to do. Specifically—her.
She was looking at him now, waiting for his response. If he didn’t get this right, she’d end up like so many of the other women in his life: an ex determined to ignore him when she saw him out socially unless a glass of champagne found its way into her hand. And then onto his head.
Deliberately he reached down to adjust his erection. It was the sort of cocky move he figured Dill probably had used on women before Alexa. Maybe even on Alexa, too. He followed it up with a slow smile, more than a little flattered when Victoria’s pupils dilated.
Down, boy.
“Look, Victoria, I know I suggested this fake dating arrangement between the two of us but the more I think about it, the more I’m afraid it’s not going to work. We still have certain incompatibilities.”
She stared at the hand he’d rested on his thigh. “What incompatibilities?”
Rather than rattle off his laundry list, he quirked his lips. “I don’t think you could handle me.”
That part at least was true. He ached to do things to her she’d never go for. A control freak like Victoria, consenting to a power exchange in bed? Never. That was even more unlikely than their coming through this insane plan he’d hatched in desperation unscathed. Better to make it clear—crystal—that they were mismatched in every possible way.
And before he had any other genius ideas, he’d get some damn sleep.
She wet her lips and dragged her eyes from his hand to meet his gaze. The intent in hers was clear. “Somehow I doubt that, CEO.” She pursed her mouth and tilted her head. “Besides, it’s not as if you want to tie me up and drip hot wax all over me, right?”
The laugh she let out was breathy and sexy. And just a little nervous. That he could still unnerve her after all the years they’d known each other added another stack of kindling to his already blazing fire.
That she’d inadvertently guessed exactly what he wanted to do to her was even better.
The fingers in his lap flexed, an unmistakable tell he couldn’t hide. He held her gaze for a moment. Two. Awareness built between them, throbbing like a heart.
Finally she whispered, “Oh.” She swallowed hard and he watched her throat move, drawn to the jerk of her flesh like that damn moth that didn’t know any better than to get burned. “Okay,” she whispered.
There were objections right there on his tongue. He tasted them, as bitter as dandelion wine, and closed his eyes before they could spill out. This could be so simple. He could handle the problem of the photos, his parents, and his errant, unquenchable libido in one fell swoop—
He gripped the edge of the couch cushion as she leaned forward, feeling trapped in the honey glow of her eyes. He couldn’t breathe through the wanting of her, couldn’t turn away from what had been rising between them all these years. Didn’t want to.
Easy. For once he just wanted something to be easy.
Damn his parents for putting him in this position. It was all their fault he’d gone outside last night to begin with. If he’d been a few minutes later he wouldn’t have met up with Victoria and all this photo drama would’ve been avoided. He should just say to hell with it and see what happened. She’d be his fake girlfriend—though who would believe the two of them fit as a couple?—and maybe his real lover, and then once his parents left, he could get back to his regular life. And his work. All of this would just become a distant, not-so-fond memory.
But it’s Victoria.
The girl he’d first seen in pigtails outside the library, stapling leaves onto the bulletin boar
d. The young woman dancing in the middle of the gym by herself, just because she could. The gorgeous, alluring woman who looked as sexy in a football jersey as she had the night before in her gold barely-a-dress.
At the last second, he lurched to his feet. He glanced at his watch and tried to see the numbers through the blur of his need. “I have to make some calls,” he managed.
“This late? It’s practically bedtime.”
“Not for an insomniac,” he said in undertone, crossing the room.
“Cory, take some damn downtime for once,” Vicky called after him, sounding surprisingly worried. “If you want, you can crash here—”
