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I moan as I slide my fork into my mouth, the flavor dancing on my tongue. “This is better than I remember.”
“I’ve perfected it over the years.”
“I’ve bet you perfected a lot of things,” I say.
“You could say that.” He twirls the pasta and takes a generous bite. “We learn and grow from our mistakes.”
I set my fork down. “I know why you bid so fiercely on me, Cason.”
He frowns. “Do you now?”
“Yeah, this is about revenge.”
He takes another bite, chews slowly, and gives a slow nod of his head. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know, and I was thinking...” I lean forward, and his warm familiar scent wraps around me. Need races through me, floods my body. My breasts swell with heated blood, and ache for him to take them into his big hands. “Most people feel revenge is a dish best served cold, but if you ask me, I think it’s best served hot.”
He sets his utensils down, and sits up a bit straighter, the frown on his forehead deepening. “What are you suggesting, Londyn?” he asks, a slight edge to his voice.
“You said I’m here to do your laundry. I get it, you’re sticking it to me.” I pause to do quotes around those words. “But maybe there are other ways we can go about that?”
“You’re suggesting there are other ways I can stick it to you?”
“Yes.”
He leans toward me, his body so close to mine, all I have to do is inch forward if I wanted to kiss him. His thumb slides over my hand, and the touch vibrates through me, stroking the hot spot
between my legs. As I bite back a heated moan, my nipples harden, poke through my lace bra, and his eyes drop to blatantly stare. I’m not normally one to put myself out there and boldly lay my needs on the line, which is probably why equal amounts of excitement and nervousness are racing through my veins, both fighting for control.
“There are rules,” he says.
I shrug. “Rules are meant to be broken.”
His gaze rakes over my face, and without warning, he cups my chin, his touch firm, reassuringly strong. “You think I’m the kind of guy to break trust?”
My heart slams against my chest at the reminder, and he inches back, leaving cold where there was once heat. “Cason—”
With an unnerving look, he says, “Perhaps it’s time we call it a night.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Cason
I TEAR OFF my shirt and toss it onto the bed as her words continue to race through my brain, teasing my aching cock to the point of pain. The woman is a contradiction. One second she’s hell-bent on neutering me, and the next she wants me in her bed. I want that, too, long before she ever coated her lush, bee-stung lips in that fuck-me red lipstick. Then when she turned seductive, suggesting I stick it to her, I was seconds from carrying her to this very room when self-preservation kicked in. She broke my heart, tore it from my chest and stomped on it. I can’t do this again with her. I can’t get involved.
Then why the hell did you bid on her, dude?
Okay, fine, I hated the way the other men in the club looked at her, but there is no point in downplaying what’s really going on here. I couldn’t leave that club without her. Couldn’t turn my back. Couldn’t walk away. There isn’t a single bone in my body that would let me leave without her. But now that I have her here—and no way are we sleeping together—what the hell am I supposed to do with her for the next two weeks? Maybe I should put her in the car and drive her to a hotel and end this sweet torment right now. I clearly have no idea what I’m doing and tonight was nothing but a total disaster. My dick agrees, even though he’s hating on me right now. But there was a reason she was on that stage, and I can’t let her go until I get to the bottom of the matter.
Across the hall I hear the shower running, and I try not to picture the hot water streaming down her gorgeous naked body and beading on her tight nipples. Is she touching herself, running her hands over her curves and wishing it was me caressing her, the way I dreamed about back in college? Jesus, when her nipples swelled tonight my mouth watered for a taste, and my dick damn near ripped through my zipper.
Why am I putting myself through this kind of torture? Didn’t she hurt me enough already? Agitated, I kick off my pants and boxers and take my dick into my hand as I stomp into the en suite bathroom. It’s been a long time since I’ve abused myself but I believe that dry streak is about to come to an end tonight. Either that, or I hit the local pub and find myself a willing woman, one who understands I only do one-night stands. Not that some random stranger would suffice now, not after spending time with Londyn.
Stick it to me.
I turn on the shower, lather my cock under the hard spray and in minutes I’m spurting into the stream. Jesus, when was the last time I came so fast? I scoff. Londyn screwed me over in a lot of ways, and now she’s turned me into a damn hormonal teenager again.
You should have walked away tonight, dude.
