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It Started with No Strings...
It Started with No Strings...
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It Started with No Strings...

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She swallowed. ‘I forgot to ask—do you have, um, protection?’

‘Yeah. Though I guess I ought to check it’s in date.’

She blinked. ‘You’re seriously telling me that a hot guy like you …’ She stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry. None of my business. No questions.’

Meaning, he thought, that she didn’t want him to ask questions, either. That moment when she’d looked sad in the salsa club and then claimed that she was celebrating … Whatever the reason, she clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

And it suited him just fine—because he didn’t want to talk about emotional stuff, either.

‘Thank you for the compliment,’ he said, focusing on the bit that wasn’t going to rake across any raw edges. ‘I guess I ought to let you know that I don’t normally invite women I’ve only just met back to my flat.’ He stroked her face. ‘And I’m pretty sure you don’t normally accept invitations from men you’ve only just met.’

‘I don’t.’ She shook her head.

So why him? Why tonight?

No questions.

Ask nothing, and you’ll hear no lies. And you won’t be expected to answer anything, either, he reminded himself.

He rummaged in his bedside drawer and checked the date on the packet of condoms. ‘We’re safe.’ He paused. ‘Though if you’d rather I left the room so you could get dressed while I call you a taxi, that’s fine—I’m not the kind of man who’d ever force a woman to do something she didn’t want to do.’

‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘Or I wouldn’t have agreed to come here with you.’

Funny how her confidence in him warmed him. It almost felt as if something had cracked around the region of his heart. Though he was pretty sure the permafrost would be too deep for that. This was about pleasure, not emotions. He’d make this good for her. Good for himself, too. And then he’d drive her home, they’d say goodbye, and the chances of their paths crossing again in a city of nearly eight million people were pretty remote. They’d just get on with their lives. And he could go back to doing what he always did: getting on just fine with people, fitting in with the crowd on the surface, and not letting himself get too close to anyone.

‘Don’t think,’ she said softly.

Meaning that she didn’t want to think, either? He was pretty sure that she was running from something; and he appreciated that she didn’t want to discuss it. Because he sure as hell didn’t want to discuss what was ricocheting round his head.

‘No thinking,’ he agreed, and kissed her.

And it was easier not to think when he was touching her. Easier just to feel, to lose himself in pleasure.

He pushed the duvet aside, then lifted her up and laid her against the pillows.

She stroked his cheek and smiled at him. ‘Aaron.’

He kissed her again, then hooked his thumbs into the sides of her knickers and drew them down. She lifted her bottom slightly so he could remove them easily.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said again. ‘And I really want to touch you.’

‘Then do it,’ she commanded softly.

He dipped his head and nuzzled the hollows of her collar bones. She arched back against the bed and he moved lower, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. She slid her hands into his hair, urging him on.

He kissed his way down over her abdomen, then shifted to kneel between her legs. She dragged in a breath as he took one ankle and slowly stroked his way upwards, letting his mouth follow the path of his fingers; and she was almost hyperventilating when he kissed his way along her inner thigh. Which was just what he wanted; right now he wanted to make them both forget everything except this.

‘Aaron, yes,’ she whispered as his tongue stroked along her sex.

He teased her, flicking the tip of her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, taking it harder and faster until she was almost whimpering in need, then slowing it right down again and letting it build up and up again. He could feel the second that she climaxed, her body tightening beneath his mouth; he held her there for a long, glorious moment, and then ripped open the foil packet, slid on the condom, and pushed into her.

He could still feel the aftershocks of her climax rippling through her. He loved the idea that he’d managed to turn this gorgeous woman to complete mush.

‘Aaron,’ she whispered, and he held still, letting her body adjust to the feel of him inside her.

‘I wanted the first time to be for you,’ he said softly.

Her eyes filled with tears, as if she wasn’t used to being considered like that, and he wanted to punch the guy who’d made her think her feelings weren’t important. Right at that moment he had a pretty good idea what she’d been running from and why her confidence in herself was so low.

Well, he could make her feel better. And at the same time he could make himself feel better, too.

‘No thinking,’ he said, and began to move.

She wrapped her legs round him to draw him deeper and tensed her muscles round him.

‘That’s so good,’ he groaned.

She smiled, and did it again.

‘Do you know what I really want?’ he asked.

‘What?’

‘You on top of me. With that glorious hair falling over both of us.’

She looked slightly shocked. ‘You like my hair?’

How could she not know how glorious her hair was? ‘I love your hair.’

She smiled, and let him roll with her so that he was lying on his back and she was straddling him. Then she moved over him and tipped her head forward so her hair fell over them, just as he’d asked.

And the reality was even better than his fantasy.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ he said. ‘Totally gorgeous.’

She seemed to like being the one in control; she teased him the way he’d teased her earlier, letting the pressure build to almost fever pitch and then easing off just a little, then letting it build again.

By the time he climaxed, he was near to hyperventilating.

He felt her hit the peak again at the same time, so he wrapped his arms round her and held her tightly until it had all ebbed away.

‘I’d better deal with the condom,’ he said finally.

She nodded. ‘And I guess I ought to get dressed and call a cab.’

He glanced at his bedside clock. ‘At this time of the morning?’

She looked at the time, too, and grimaced. ‘I suppose it’s a little late.’

‘Stay,’ he said softly. ‘No pressure. Unless you have to be somewhere?’

‘I can be anywhere I choose,’ she said.

‘Then stay,’ he said, shocking himself. What the hell was he doing? He should be getting dressed and offering to drive her home, not asking her to stay. This was the first step on a very slippery slope towards letting someone into his life. Bad move. He was rubbish at being close to people. Work was fine, but anything emotional made him back off. Every single one of his girlfriends had complained that they needed more emotional commitment than Aaron could give them. But not one of them had made him feel strongly enough to want to change or keep the relationship going—and that reinforced what he’d always known, deep down. Love wasn’t for him.

So he needed to stop this. Right now.

But his mouth clearly wasn’t working with the plan. ‘I can make you breakfast. There’s a patisserie round the corner that does fantastic croissants.’

‘And would that mean more of your coffee?’ she asked.

‘Definitely more of my coffee.’

Where was his common sense? Why wasn’t he pushing her out of here as quickly as he could?

He made a last-ditch effort to put an obstacle in the way. ‘Do you need—well, insulin or anything?’

‘I’m sorted,’ she said.

He could hardly say now that he’d changed his mind and ask her to leave, could he?

OK. This was just for tonight. Spending one night with someone wasn’t the same as a declaration of everlasting love, was it? So it wasn’t as if he was going to screw things up totally. Even he couldn’t manage to do that with a one-night fling.

He went to the bathroom, dealt with the condom and came back to the bedroom. ‘There are fresh towels in the bathroom. Help yourself to whatever you need.’

She gave him an embarrassed smile. ‘I know this is going to sound crazy after what we’ve just done, but do you, um, have a bathrobe or something I could borrow?’

‘Sure.’ He took his bathroom from the hook behind the door and handed it to her. ‘And I’ll close my eyes.’

‘Thank you.’

She returned a few minutes later, smelling of his citrus shower gel and with her skin still slightly damp.

‘Do you want me to close my eyes again?’ he asked when she stood beside the bed.

She nodded. ‘It’s a bit pathetic, I know.’

No. It just meant she really wasn’t used to having a one-night fling.

But maybe this was what both of them needed, right now.

He waited until she’d got into bed and he’d felt the duvet being pulled up on her side, then leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Just for the record, it’s not pathetic,’ he said. ‘It’s kind of cute. And I’m very flattered that you chose me to—um, well. Be with you.’

‘Hmm,’ she said, but her eyes crinkled at the corners.

‘Let’s get some sleep,’ he said, and switched off the light.

It had been a long, long time since he’d spent the night with someone. He knew it wasn’t the most sensible decision he’d ever made; but right now it felt good to fall asleep curled round a warm body. So he’d go with it. And tomorrow—tomorrow, they’d have breakfast, they’d smile, they’d say goodbye and they’d walk away.

Joni was warm and comfortable, the body wrapped round hers holding her close.

Then she opened her eyes as the realisation hit her. The body wrapped round hers.

She’d stayed overnight with Aaron.

Uh-oh.

This could be awkward.

Last night was—well, last night. A crazy impulse, one she really shouldn’t have acted on.

Why had she stayed for that last dance? Why had she let him kiss her stupid and then made love with him? Why hadn’t she taken the chances he’d offered her to back away and flee to the safety of her own flat?

Panic seeped through her. What would Aaron expect of her this morning? Last night he’d talked about having breakfast. But would he think that they were now officially a couple because she’d stayed the night? Or would he, too, be having these doubts and panicking that she’d want much more from him than he was prepared to give?

She took a deep breath, held it, and listened.

He was breathing deeply and evenly. OK, so he could be faking it—but his body didn’t feel tense against hers, which it would do if he really was faking it, Joni told herself. His body felt relaxed; so it was pretty safe to assume that he was still asleep, and she might just have a chance of salvaging the situation.

Leaving without saying goodbye was taking the coward’s way out, she knew, but right at that moment she could live with that. All she had to do was get out of the bed without waking him, collect her clothes, dress as quickly as she could, and then let herself quietly out of his flat and out of his life. The chances of them bumping into each other again in a city as big as London were pretty remote, especially as she had no intention of going back to the salsa club. And this way they’d both be left with some good memories and no disappointed expectations.

Tentatively, she lifted the fingers of his hand away from her waist. His breathing remained deep and even, to her relief. Clearly Aaron was one of those people who slept like the dead and it would take a really loud alarm to wake him in the morning.

She hoped.

Moving slowly, she managed to wriggle out of his hold and slide out of the bed.

There was enough light coming through the curtains for her to locate her clothes, and she remembered that she’d left her shoes by the front door. She crept out of the room, hoping that she wouldn’t accidentally stand on a squeaky floorboard and wake him, and closed the door very gently behind her.

From there, it was a matter of seconds to drag her clothes on and find her handbag where she’d left it on the worktop in his kitchen.

Leaving without a word seemed a little harsh. But there was a memo block and a pen next to the phone in his kitchen. She scribbled a brief note and left it pinned down in the corner by one of the clean mugs. Then she collected her shoes and let herself quietly out of his flat.

A passer-by in the street gave her a knowing look; it was Sunday morning, and she was dressed for a Saturday night, so it was obvious that she hadn’t gone back to her own place. She ignored the passer-by and straightened her spine. OK, so her behaviour last night hadn’t been the way she normally acted. But it had been exactly what she’d needed. Aaron, unlike Marty, had made her feel good about herself. He’d taken away the lingering sadness of a day she’d been dreading. So she had no regrets. And now she’d find a taxi, go home, and get on with the rest of her life.

Aaron woke to find the bed beside him stone cold.

Joni had clearly left without waking him.

He knew he ought to feel relieved; he really didn’t want the complication of getting involved with someone. And yet he was shocked to discover that what he actually felt was disappointment. He’d actually been looking forward to waking up beside Joni and having a leisurely breakfast together.

Was he totally crazy?

He shook his head to clear it. He knew nothing about Joni other than her first name. The chances of finding her in a city like London were next to nothing. And that, he reminded himself sharply, was probably for the best.

He showered, dressed, and went to make himself a coffee. Which was when he saw her note: Thank you for everything. J.

Cute. Good manners.