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He tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. ‘Guilty as charged.’
The gesture made her realise what a mess she must look. This was not how she had intended the night to end. She tried to climb off his lap—beyond mortification now the storm had passed. ‘I should go.’
His hands tightened on her waist. ‘Nothing doing.’
‘This isn’t...’ Oh, god, this was embarrassing. She was supposed to be bold and fearless, the Blind Date Bitch. And instead she’d behaved like a hysterical muppet. Over something that had happened two years ago! She didn’t give a shit about Henry anymore. Where had all that anguish come from?
His knuckle tucked under her chin. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Honestly? I feel like a complete tit. A complete tit who’s probably having the bad hair day from hell.’ She swiped a finger under her eye, examined it for signs of runny mascara. ‘Please tell me I don’t have panda eyes, or I may have to shoot myself.’
He chuckled as his gaze glided over her hair. ‘No panda eyes and the bad hair suits you. Okay?’
Her heart jumped into her throat at the affectionate tone. ‘It’s been an exhausting couple of days.’
His fingers found the tab of her zip and pulled it down. ‘Then let’s destress.’
She jolted. The shudder of arousal almost as shocking as the purpose in his gaze.
‘What was that you said to me last night about being my sex toy?’ he asked, flicking open the hook on her bra.
‘You cannot be serious?’ Could he? ‘I must look about as desirable as a wet dish-rag.’
He kissed the tip of her nose, the touch of his lips unbearably gentle as his warm palm stroked up her spine and pushed her bra straps off her shoulders. ‘Then I guess I’ve got a thing for wet dish-rags.’
She felt it then, the hard ridge beneath her bottom. ‘Goodness, you are serious.’
‘Deadly.’ His fingers paused in their exploration. ‘But how about I be your sex toy this time?’
She grasped his cheeks, impossibly touched by the offer. She’d lost control, and now he was giving it back to her. She pulled him towards her, able to hold back no longer. ‘Yes, please.’
She was through being a coward. Through pretending that this meant nothing when it could mean something wonderful. She was through feeling shitty about something that had never been her fault. And through pretending that she didn’t deserve to be happy.
She covered his mouth, feasting on those firm sensual lips that she’d come to adore. His tongue duelled with hers as he answered her with a hunger of his own. But when she tried to push him back onto the bed, he held her hands.
‘Are you sure, Tally? Because I want more from you than tonight. A lot more.’
Joy and longing and anticipation flooded through her at the declaration. Her own needs and wants too huge to contain as the last of the fear ebbed away.
‘You’ve got more.’ How could she have thought, even for a moment, that she would be able to resist him? That she would want to?
His grin was quick and really rather pleased with itself. So she simply had to tease. ‘But that still makes you my sex toy for tonight.’
He chuckled, the sound rich and full of promise. Releasing her wrists, he lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Sure, a deal’s a deal. Tonight you get to call the shots.’
She rubbed her hands together, laughing with happiness and no small amount of excitement. Having this sexy, gorgeous, superhot man at her disposal for the rest of the night would have been spectacular enough, but thinking about all the dates to come put it right past spectacular to...well, epic.
Reclining on the bed, she raised her knees, giving him a tantalising peek beneath the hem of her dress.
His breath rumbled out on a tortured groan.
The smile on her face reached ear-to-ear proportions. Oh, yes, tomorrow had the potential to be epic, but tonight it was time to have fun. Dirty, sexy fun.
Inching the cool chiffon up quivering thighs, she watched his pupils go dark with lust. ‘Okay, big guy. It’s time to go down or go home!’
* * *
The Twitter account of @BlindDateBitch closed the following day, with a final tweet:
