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Who knew sex could be that spectacular?
His arm tightened across her shoulders as he peered down into her face. ‘So I take it there were no ill effects this time?’
‘Not one,’ she replied enthusiastically. She stretched, the slight discomfort between her thighs nothing compared to the triumphant afterglow. The flush of contentment washed over her as she recalled how he’d eased into her so carefully and brought her to a stunning …
She bolted upright. ‘Oh, my God.’
She stared in amazement at their surroundings. Phil’s desk, piled high with papers, the shelves full of bulging file folders, the dying pot plant, even the deluxe sofa that they were now lounging on together, completely nude.
‘Is something wrong?’ Rye asked calmly.
‘We just did it in Phil’s office!’
He sent her an amused frown. ‘I realise that.’
‘And you’re my boss …’ She hesitated, briefly distracted by the glorious memory of him buried deep inside her.
He slung one arm behind his head, skimmed his palm down her back to rest on her buttock. ‘Very observant,’ he said, amusement lightening his voice.
‘Rye, don’t you see the significance? I’m cured.’
‘Cured of what?’
She placed her hand on her stomach. ‘I don’t feel nauseous, or even weird about it. I feel wonderful.’
‘Good,’ he said, caressing her bottom. ‘But what is it you don’t feel weird about?’
‘What I saw my father doing to his secretary. It doesn’t matter any more. I don’t care.’ She settled back down, loving the feel of his chest hair abraiding sensitive nipples, and kissed him on the jaw. ‘Rye, you cured me.’ She beamed at him, delighting in the feeling of recklessness, of freedom.
He laughed, stroking her rump. ‘Glad to be of service.’
Maddy laughed at his smug tone. Then shivered.
Rye took her shoulders and lifted her off him. ‘Come on.’ He sat up and scooped her T-shirt off the floor. ‘As much as I enjoy ogling your naked body,’ he said, his eyes slipping suggestively to her breasts as he handed her the T-shirt, ‘it’s getting chilly in here.’
She whipped the garment over her head, pushing the sudden feeling of disappointment to one side.
This was finally it, then. Her wanton fling was well and truly over. They’d done the wild thing until they’d got it right. But, now they had, there wasn’t anything else to explore.
They got dressed in companionable silence but, as Maddy glimpsed Rye’s tight, muscular butt disappearing behind cotton boxers, she couldn’t help letting out a sigh.
Why did Mr Wrong have to be such a stud muffin?
It was very obvious from Rye’s expertise with women, his unassailable self-confidence in bed and the dominating arrogance that had allowed him to march into the café and demand she sleep with him again, that she was just one in a very long line of conquests. He’d been thoughtful when she’d almost thrown up in front of him, and surprisingly sensitive while coaxing the truth about her aversion to sleeping with her boss out of her. But she wasn’t about to kid herself. In a day or two he would have moved on to someone else.
She pushed away the little pang of regret. And the knowledge that it would take her a great deal longer to forget him.
She firmed her lips and retied her ponytail, making herself look away as he tugged his T-shirt over his head and covered up that magnificent chest.
Don’t get sentimental, silly. This is your endorphins talking.
Of course she wouldn’t forget him as easily. Because no man had ever excited her, or made her feel the way he did in bed. But all the qualities that made him so great in bed also made him all wrong for her in every other way.
Sitting on the sofa, she put on her trainers.
She had never been the sentimental type. And she knew, from witnessing the agony of her parents’ marriage for years, that passion didn’t last. You needed compatibility and companionship and something tangible in common to base a real relationship on. Great sex, even spectacular sex, wasn’t enough. However drop dead gorgeous Ryan King might be, and however accomplished in the sack, she knew virtually nothing about him, and what she did know suggested he wasn’t the guy for her.
‘What are you thinking?’
