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“Suck it up,” I snarled back.
Tom’s eyes lit up with heat. He pressed the full length of his body against mine. That was not my pruning shears I could feel against my stomach.
“Suck it up?” He tugged on my hair, the pain exquisite. “That a promise, Rosie?”
I raked my nails down his back, and he groaned into my mouth andholy hell!He was hard against my stomach.
“I want—” I moaned, my hand slipping down to his sweatpants waistband.
“What do you want, Rosie?”
My fingertips slipped under the band. “To fuck.”
I gasped at my audacity. I’d never before been so brazen. I’d never been able to manage being friends with a guy and have all the benefits of a boyfriend. Sex and feelings for me went hand in hand.
That’s why it had hurt so much when Tom had ended things four years ago.
And the hell would I be asking for such a thing from someone I didn’t even like?
Enemies-with-benefits?
Heat in his eyes flared, then he replaced it with a stern look. He grabbed my hand, not rough or tight, and tugged it from his sweatpants. “No.” He sighed and stepped away.
I blinked, part relieved and part angry yet again. I pulled myself out of his grip. “Why not? You were happy with something casual four years ago.”
Tom said nothing. He put more distance between us, and a muscle in his jaw jumped. His lip was puffy from a bright red hairline crack where I sunk my teeth down.
“I’m not drunk anymore,” I reasoned. “This isn’t taking advantage of me.”
“I’m not … I would still be taking advantage.” The sadness in his eyes surprised me. Why was he sad? He scrubbed his face with his hand.
“Oh god, Ainslee.” I reeled back in horror. “You’re back together, or still seeing her. I’d heard—I should have checked—”
I turned on my heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.
Tom swore loudly behind the door and called my name, but I kept walking to the ute, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone at the homestead. I turned the key so hard in the ignition I almost broke it off and drove back to the winery in record time.
Holy shit.I kissed Tom Turner. AGAIN. And propositioned him for sex. What wasthatabout?!
One moment I was giving him a piece of my mind, and the next, I was offering him a piece of me.
I sunk into my office chair and groaned.
He had looked so good, his biceps straining against his work shirt and sweat on his brow. And he had smelt good—earthy, sweaty and something else—a spice or maybe the soap he used. It was a heady mix that when I got close, his smell was all around me and scrambled my senses.
And I’d kissed him.
And how my body lit up being pressed against him.
I don’t like him. That was a hate kiss. A lapse in reason.
My nipples were still hard even now, just thinking about hate sex on the rebound with Tom.
I let out a strangled cry and my sister, Anthea, jumped, her coffee sloshing over the rim.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“That was one hell of an entrance. You sprayed gravel all over the garden when you parked.”
