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‘Tufnell Park.’
He slammed the door, then skirted the car and leapt into the driver’s seat. Firing the engine, he shifted into gear.
‘I live on the south end of the Heath.’ The powerful hum of the engine was nothing compared to the driving need in his gut as he roared away from the kerb, then had to brake at the traffic lights on Camden High Road. He glanced at his passenger, fisting his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘My place is closer.’
The smile got bigger. ‘Excellent point.’
Leaning across the steering wheel, he plunged his fingers into her hair and hauled her close—unable to wait another moment to taste her again.
Her lips softened, her tongue tangling with his as he claimed her mouth.
The blast of a car horn forced him to release her as every last ounce of blood surged south. ‘My place it is, then.’
She nodded, looking as dazed as he felt.
He stamped his foot on the accelerator. The screech of burning rubber as they shot away from the intersection made him jerk his foot off the pedal.
Get a grip, Westmore. It’s sex. Not life or death.
He eased out a breath, holding his car under the speed limit as he made the series of turns through the backstreets of Hampstead then drove up the hill past the Heath.
By the time they reached the Victorian mansion block, he’d managed to get his breathing back under control, just about. He adjusted his trousers as he climbed out of the car to ease the pressure. Ruby stepped out the other side, her lush breasts pressing against the thin bodice of her dress. He extended his hand, but, instead of taking it, she clasped her bag to her midriff and a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face.
‘Is there a problem?’ he asked, more curtly than intended.
If she changed her mind now, it would probably cause him a serious injury.
She cleared her throat. ‘Two things.’ She clutched her bag tighter. ‘Firstly, I don’t have protection with me tonight. I wasn’t expecting this.’
The relief that coursed through him almost made his knees give way. He locked them. ‘I have protection,’ he said. He would have used condoms anyway, he always did. But he had to give her points for foresight and practicality, especially as he knew she was as blindsided by lust as he was if her shallow pants were anything to go by. ‘What’s the other thing?’
‘This feels a bit rushed,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘And rushed doesn’t really work for me.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Clearly the loss of blood to his head had damaged his brain cells because he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
She huffed. ‘We’re obviously very attracted to each other.’
Great, so what the hell is the problem?
‘Agreed,’ he said, damping down on his frustration. Whatever the problem was, it would be better to let her say it. He wasn’t going to risk scaring her off.
‘But I’ve never done this before.’
The bold statement, delivered with obvious bravado, made him feel even more clueless. He frowned, his frustration all but strangling him.
‘What exactly is this?’ he asked carefully. If she was about to tell him she was a virgin, he was going to be exceptionally annoyed with himself. How could his radar have been so spectacularly off?
‘This is a one-night stand. I usually date a guy for a while before I consider going to bed with him.’
Relief coursed through him. Relief and something else, which he decided not to examine. So she didn’t jump into bed with every guy who took her fancy. So what? Why should her sexual history matter to him? He’d always considered the double standard when it came to sex completely illogical. If a guy wanted a woman and acted on it, he certainly shouldn’t hold it against her if she did the same.
‘So what’s your point?’ he asked. And wished like hell she’d hurry up and get to it.
‘The point is …’ she began, her gaze darting away from his.
Finally.
‘I’m not the sort of woman who has spontaneous orgasms to order.’ She rushed the words as she met his gaze, her lips flattening into a firm line and her cheeks flushing a becoming shade of pink. ‘So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t rush things,’ she finished.
