Page 22 of Maid of Dishonor


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‘That’s great. But we don’t need them now. This was a mistake.’

She braced herself, ready for him to object, to call her names—it wouldn’t be the first time she’d been branded a tease or worse. And given how his arousal didn’t seem to have abated one bit he would probably have a point. But right now she was too busy protecting herself to worry about any injuries she might have caused him.

But to her surprise, instead of getting angry or annoyed, he lifted a palm and cupped her cheek. ‘Why is it a mistake all of a sudden?’

She shook her head to dislodge the possessive touch—this was fine when it was just sex, but she didn’t want to risk getting her emotions involved. ‘No reason.’

She tried to rise again, but he simply held her waist, making it impossible for her to move without getting into a wrestling match—something she definitely didn’t intend to do, because, while her head was telling her clearly making love with Carter Price would be a very bad idea now, she couldn’t rely on her body to play ball.

‘There is a reason,’ he replied in that CEO tone he’d been using all evening. She’d found it a major turn on during foreplay; she was finding it somewhat less so now. ‘And you need to tell me what it is.’

‘No, actually, I don’t. I’m under no obligation to—’

‘Think again, Gina,’ he interrupted. ‘Because you’re not going anywhere until you do.’

She sucked in a breath, trying to remain patient and sensible, and stave off a hissy fit.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice tight with the effort to sound conciliatory. ‘I realise you’re still extremely aroused...’ She flicked her gaze to his crotch and heat crept up her neck at the sight of the magnificent erection. ‘And that’s obviously partly my fault...’

‘Partly?’ he interrupted, giving an incredulous laugh.

She looked away as the heat hit her cheeks. For Pete’s sake, was she actually blushing? She never blushed.

‘Okay, fine, mostly my fault,’ she added, in the interests of complete disclosure. Because she’d never been coy either. ‘But that doesn’t mean I have to sleep with you if I don’t want to.’

He cursed. ‘Give me some credit here. I’m not a kid, any more. I do have some control. And I would never expect any woman to sleep with me if she didn’t want to—no matter how aroused she’s gotten me. I may not be the gentleman my mama raised me to be, but I’m not that much of jerk.’

‘Okay, good,’ she said, relief flowing through her. He sounded more affronted than angry. Not that she cared if he was angry, she told herself staunchly; she’d never had a problem dealing with male tantrums. But right now she felt too exposed to relish dealing with one from him. ‘Then I’d like to leave.’

She waited, but, instead of releasing her, he began to stroke his thumbs back and forth over the skin beneath her ribs, in a light caress that sent darts of sensation places she really didn’t want them.

‘Carter, let go of my waist,’ she said, breathlessly.

‘Not until I get an explanation. What made you change your mind?’

She couldn’t tell him that. Would never tell him that. Because it would mean revealing something she had decided a long time ago he had never really been a part of. The pregnancy had been an accident, a biological blip, that had ended almost as soon as it had begun—and forced her to re-evaluate who she was and what she was. But she’d come out the other side. She hadn’t thought about it in years. And if she could get away from him, she wouldn’t have to think about it now.

She sent him what she hoped was a bored look. ‘It doesn’t seem spontaneous any more. And I’m really not that turned on now.’

‘You’re really not, huh?’ His mouth curled on one side and she saw the sceptical gleam in his eye. ‘Why are you lying?’

‘I’m not.’

She’d always been an exceptionally convincing liar—after all, she’d had a lot of practice in her teens—but unfortunately as she said the words her lungs seized as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of them at once—and the denial came out on an unconvincing hum.

‘How about we test that theory?’ His voice deepened as his hands stroked down her naked thighs and gripped her knees.

‘If you were any kind of a gentleman, you’d take my word for it,’ she murmured, pushing the words out past the constriction in her throat as he parted her legs. A move she appeared powerless to resist as her centre throbbed in anticipation.

‘That’s true enough.’ His thumbs blazed a trail of goosebumps, caressing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh as his hands headed back towards heaven. ‘And if you were any kind of a lady, you wouldn’t lie about it.’

‘I’m not lying.’ Those damn thumbs angled across the juncture of her legs, and caressed—back and forth, back and forth—making the protest compete with the telltale hitch in her breathing.

Kneeling in front of her, he pushed her thighs wider and let his thumbs touch the slick swollen folds. She braced her hands on the bed, let her head fall back and struggled to breathe as all thought, all feeling, all memory burned away in a blaze of lust.

‘There now. You seem to like that well enough, sugar.’

She could hear the arrogance and the amusement and she would have objected, but all she cared about now was concentrating on the heat, and forgetting the rest. The orgasm fluttered towards her on soaring wings as he used his thumbs to hold her open and then licked at the heart of her.

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