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‘No, but.’
He pressed a thumb to her lips, silencing the feeble protest.
‘Didn’t you ever wonder what it would be like between us...without all the emotional garbage tripping us up?’
Emotional garbage.
She heard the words, and saw the harsh cynicism behind the hunger.
‘Yes, I have,’ she answered honestly, because there wasn’t much point being coy when her desire had outstripped her caution a good half an hour ago.
Was she seriously considering this? And why couldn’t she seem to consider anything else, such as running off screaming into the night, which had to be the smarter, safer, more sensible option?
He placed both his hands on her waist, and drew her off the stool, until she stood in his embrace, that spicy, musky scent intox
icating her. ‘I have a whole hotel suite upstairs, if you want to find out the answer.’
‘That would be insane,’ she whispered. ‘You’re insane.’ Why did he have to look so gorgeous and why couldn’t she muster even a single iota of the guilt she should be feeling?
‘And this would be relevant because...?’ The quick feral grin sealed her fate.
Because suddenly she knew why she’d never been able to stop running from what had happened that night. It wasn’t because of the mistakes they’d made, the bad things they’d done. She’d been punished a thousand times over for those and she’d changed enough to know she would never be that reckless, thoughtless girl again.
But she hadn’t forgotten the glorious way he had made her feel either. He was the one that had got away. And she’d never been able to forget him. Not entirely.
And now he was back. And available. And this time, whatever they did together would just be about the sex. She could have him, enjoy him, get over the physical hunger that had burned inside her for years, and then let him and all the memories go, and walk away for good with no more nagging regrets.
Because if there was one thing she had learned in the years since that night—it was how to separate her sexual needs from her emotional ones.
‘I guess it isn’t relevant,’ she murmured. ‘Not any more.’
There was no Missy, no marriage in a fortnight, nothing to feel guilty about any more. And they both appeared to be two very different people now.
For whatever reason, Carter, the sensitive, conflicted, sex-deprived virgin had been replaced by Carter the cynical, commanding and sexually confident player. And, thanks to the devastation she’d had to face and overcome after their one night together—not to mention several thousand dollars’ worth of therapy in the years since—she was no longer the screwed-up little flirt who thought having sex with any man who took her fancy could replace the love her father had denied her.
His thumbs pressed into the hollow of her hips as he brought his mouth close to hers. ‘It was good then, but it’ll be better now—because this time, we’ll both know what the hell we’re doing.’
She smiled, disarmed by the self-deprecating comment—even though she was sure it was disingenuous. ‘Be careful, Carter,’ she teased, the urge to flirt overwhelming her caution. ‘You don’t want to oversell yourself, because as I recall you were a remarkably precocious virgin....’
His answering chuckle arrowed through her. ‘There’s no doubting you were a powerful inspiration to me back then. But I’ve learned a few things since—about stamina and focus and technique.’ He gave her bottom lip a playful nip, sending a delicious shiver down to her core. ‘Which makes me confident I can do a lot better now.’
She let out a shaky breath, her arousal already long past the point of no return. ‘Then I suppose the least I can do is let you prove it.’
‘Amen to that.’ He groaned, then clasped her cheeks in rough palms.
His mouth covered hers, his lips as hot and hungry as she remembered them. But this time he took control of the kiss. There was no tender, tentative, achingly sweet exploration, no moans of staggered arousal, just hot, insistent strokes as his tongue took possession of her mouth, and demanded her response.
She could vaguely hear the sounds of the bar around them—but the exhibitionist in her, that had never really gone away, had no problem wrapping her arms around Carter’s waist, and letting her tongue duel with his, refusing to relinquish control and making her own demands in return.
Lust flowed on a heady wave down to her centre as he tried to force her surrender and she refused to submit.
‘Hey, guys, you wanna get a room? We’ve got a whole hotel at your disposal here.’
They broke apart at the pained words from the bartender.
‘Sure,’ Carter replied as he threw several bills on the bar. ‘You ready?’ he asked as he grasped her hand.
She nodded. As ready as I’ll ever be.
