AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He waited for his blood pressure to drop out of the danger zone. All he needed now was to add a heart attack to the madness that had taken hold of his life.
He’d fucked her in a closet. In the middle of an argument. She’d called it great make-up sex. He called it nuts. Crazy. Certifiable.
It was equally nuts to demand she see him again tonight, given the spontaneous combustion that occurred every time they got within ten feet of each other. But then, he’d left sane behind when he’d first laid eyes on Tally Gladstone yesterday evening. And like he’d told her, it didn’t feel like a bad thing anymore.
Damn, the woman excited him more than any woman ever had—even more than Della in the early days, when he’d been young and dumb and easily dazzled.
He wasn’t easily dazzled anymore. These days he was older and tougher and a lot more cynical. He’d assumed that meant that no woman would ever touch him again, that he’d never feel that bright, blinding surge of attraction that made him feel alive. And optimistic. But that was before he’d seen that raw flash of vulnerability in Tally’s eyes, after she’d wrenched an orgasm out of him that had made him see stars, and he’d been dazzled all over again. But more so. Because this time he knew she felt it too. That moment of connection.
He’d refused to acknowledge it last night—and he’d behaved like a dickwad this morning because of that. But now he was through faking it. Somehow this woman, with her smart mouth and her kick-ass attitude, had made him yearn for something he thought he’d never want again.
More than an anonymous hook-up.
More than hot sex.
More than no-risk companionship.
For the first time in forever he was curious again. He wanted to know who Tally was. Why she was so determined to use that flash-fire temper to push him away. He didn’t just want to bang her anymore—he wanted to discover her. To understand her. And he wasn’t terrified of opening up to her in return.
The surge of genuine curiosity about her felt so new, so novel, so refreshing, he intended to nurture it
. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him and this was going nowhere. Maybe once the curiosity was satisfied, the spark between them would die. But the simple fact that he hoped to hell it didn’t felt good. A sign that he was emerging from the hole he’d been hiding down for three long years.
Taking Tally on a real date would give him the opportunity he craved—to finally stop being a shit-heel and become a human being again—with a woman who was starting to fascinate him. She was scared, he could tell. Scared to trust him. And he wanted to know why. He’d held her against him, gotten high on the sultry scent of her arousal, been deep enough inside her to feel her muscles clench with her orgasm—but for the first time in a long time the sex had meant more to him than just pleasure. Because it had been more than just a physical connection, it had been an emotional one, whether either of them had wanted one or not. And then he’d freaked out and torpedoed it.
But maybe it could be good again. If he could get Tally to trust him, too. If he could find out why that connection had terrified her even more than it had him.
He closed the closet door behind him, the scent of sex mingling with the sharp smell of disinfectant.
But before he could leave shit-heel territory behind, he would have to grab hold of some control tonight and keep his hands off Tally. He didn’t want their real date exploding into yet more superhot makeup-sex in inappropriate places. Or at least, not too soon. Not until he had gotten past that shield she had welded in place to protect herself from getting hurt. He’d gotten a peek behind it last night, only to have it slam shut in his face because he’d been too busy protecting himself.
He scrubbed his hands down his face.
Okay, don’t get too far ahead of yourself. First things first.
On the evidence so far, keeping his hands to himself was going to be one hell of a challenge. Especially if Tally decided to use all the weapons in her arsenal to throw him off her scent.
Chapter Nine
#NewRule: If you are in danger of having a lame date...consider knickers surplus to requirements and bring back the #WTFfactor
Ten past seven. Maybe he isn’t going to show.
Tally rimmed her lips with cherry Chapstick to stop them drying to parchment, and rechecked her makeup in the bathroom mirror for the third time in as many minutes.
Her pulse skittered at the prospect of a reprieve.
Wouldn’t that be just like the man, to leave her hanging now she was ready for anything? After careful consideration, she’d decided that his promise of a ‘real date’ didn’t have to mean anything. All they’d done so far was shag and shout at each other. So what were the chances of this date being any different? That’s probably all he had in mind anyway. Another epic shagathon for old times’ sake. The only thing between them was sex and chemistry. So she’d go along with this pretence of a date—after all, surely she could withstand ten minutes of Brent O’Neill’s charm before she was given leave to jump him again. She sat down to slide on her heels and felt the glide of silk between her legs, where her stockings whispered next to her naked sex.
The door-bell rang, making her jump. Air brushed between her thighs as she walked to the front door, increasing the erotic spell and justifying her decision to wear the deceptively demure bias-cut electric-blue chiffon dress with a push-up bra, silk stockings, four-inch wedge heels and no knickers.
Brent wouldn’t know what hit him.
She opened the door—and her pulse punched her collar-bone at the picture he made standing on her doorstep. Big and gorgeous in a steel-grey designer suit, a dark blue mac, and a white shirt and black tie, the twilight gilding his closely cropped hair with hints of red. He looked like the picture of a hotshot executive—emphasis on the hot.
‘Tally, you look great.’ The line of his lips lifted on one side as that penetrating gaze drifted down, teasing her breasts into tight peaks under the demure neckline of the dress.
‘Thanks. I’m glad to see I haven’t overdressed,’ she said, unable to keep the snip of irritation at bay. ‘As you didn’t see fit to tell me where we’re going, I took a wild guess that it would be dressy.’ Although hopefully not for long.
