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Her Enemy With Benefits: Her Deal with the Devil / My Boyfriend and Other Enemies / Blind Date Rivals
Her Enemy With Benefits: Her Deal with the Devil / My Boyfriend and Other Enemies / Blind Date Rivals
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Her Enemy With Benefits: Her Deal with the Devil / My Boyfriend and Other Enemies / Blind Date Rivals

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As she studied the menu with intense fascination he came to a lightning quick decision—the kind of impulse he’d been famous for in his wilder partying years, the kind of decision that had made Paris sit up and take notice of his first dramatic show. Not in a good way.

But this was different. He was a decade older, a decade wiser. And going after Sapphire because he wanted her was a purely primal drive he needed to slake before it became an obsession and screwed with his concentration completely.

Ignoring this attraction was growing old fast. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t spend the next thirty days working alongside her without going insane and taking enough cold showers to contribute to Melbourne’s water shortage.

There was only so much curtailing a guy could take.

‘Sapphire?’

She took an eternity to glance up, and when she did she was worrying her bottom lip with her top teeth. ‘Yeah?’

‘I think I should go.’

Schmuck that he was, he gave her one last out. If she agreed, he’d bolt—make that hobble—out of here. It was his final concession to the reformed him. One last attempt to do the right thing before he went frigging insane with wanting her and took whatever he could get.

He’d leave if she asked and make sure all their future meetings took place within office hours in an office environment. There was only so much temptation a guy could take.

He had no idea how long they stood there, the silence taut and expectant.

He could hear a clock ticking somewhere behind him, the dripping of a faulty tap, and eventually the soft, wistful sigh of a woman as confused as him.

‘Why?’

One word. That was all she uttered. It was enough.

He stalked towards her, even now expecting her to backtrack, to make some flimsy excuse and turf him out on his ass.

Instead she stood ramrod straight, head tilted, unwavering stare defiant.

Lord, he wanted her. Wanted her with the kind of consuming lust that could make a man forget his name.

This thing between them went beyond a teenage fantasy, went beyond the basic craving for sensational sex. He saw something in her that called to him on some base level that defied logic. He couldn’t label it—didn’t want to. What he did want was her. Naked. Hot. Wet.

He stopped a foot in front of her, close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath, too damn far away when he wanted her body plastered against his.

‘If I stay, it won’t be for food.’

‘Food can be overrated.’ Her lips curved into a smug smile, sexy as hell. The kind of smile to give a guy depraved thoughts. ‘So why are you staying?’

‘You need me to spell it out?’

‘I’d rather you show me—’

He claimed her mouth in a brutal kiss. No thought for sweet seduction or taking it slow. No thought beyond the incessant pounding in his head urging him to be inside her now.

She matched him, grabbing his shirt lapels, yanking him closer so that their bodies melded in a fusion of heat.

And it still wasn’t enough.

He changed the pressure, his mouth sliding over hers in slow, tantalising sweeps, and she moaned, straining towards him.

With a tenuous hold on his self-control he grabbed her butt and hoisted her onto the breakfast bar—his turn to groan when his hard-on settled between her open legs. Her heat penetrated the clothing barriers between them and he wanted in.

She closed her eyes and arched into him, her abandonment so at odds with her usual reserve. He would come way too soon.

When her hips involuntarily moved, rubbing against him, he bit back an expletive. One that described what they were about to do.

If they had protection.

‘Do you have condoms?’

Her eyes snapped open, incredibly blue amid the pink blush stealing into her cheeks. ‘No. Don’t you?’

He shook his head and cursed again. Cursed his stupidity in starting something he couldn’t finish. Cursed his new lifestyle choices. Cursed the same impulses of the past that had got him here—frustrated as hell.

‘You think Ruby would have any stocked in the bathroom?’

Sapphire frowned. ‘Nope. She cleaned all her stuff out.’

For the first time in a long time he was at a loss for words. This was awkward. Rampaging lust was fine in the heat of the moment, but now…

‘Though I guess we could double check?’

Her tone held a hint of devilry. He liked it. It meant she hadn’t retreated or gone brusque on him. It also meant she might be up for other stuff if latex couldn’t be found.

She snagged his hand and tugged him into the bathroom—surprisingly large compared with the rest of the apartment.

It had a glass-enclosed shower, a marble tub big enough for two and a floor-to-ceiling mirror with distinct possibilities.

She released his hand long enough to rummage through three drawers and a cabinet under the sink. He would have laughed at her frantic search if he weren’t practically crippled from wanting her so badly.

When she straightened the disappointment in her eyes vindicated what he was about to do.

‘Doesn’t matter.’

Her mouth down-turned. ‘Yeah, it does. I don’t do unprotected sex.’

‘Neither do I.’ He reached out and touched her collarbone, then let his fingertip trail downward, around one breast, then the other, in slow concentric circles, until she sagged against the vanity. ‘But there’s loads we can do without the grand finale.’

Her eyes lit up as she registered the meaning behind his words and before he could say anything she’d whipped off her tee-shirt, giving him an eyeful of demi-cup black satin and pushed-up cleavage.

‘Well, I guess that answers my next question—whether you’d be up for it or not.’

In response she reached for his zipper, tugged it down and slid her hand inside.

He gritted his teeth as she stroked him through the cotton of his boxers, until she reached the tip and he damn near exploded.

‘Turn around.’

Her hand stilled at his command and her eyes widened, but he didn’t see fear. He saw excitement and heat and yearning. Major turn on.

He missed her touch when she eased her hand out of his pants and swivelled towards the mirror but this would be worth the wait.

He wanted to watch her come.

He wanted to watch her watch him.

With surprisingly steady hands he popped the snap on her jeans, unzipped her and slid the denim down to mid-thigh-level.

Man, she was wearing a thong. Black satin. Same as the bra. He liked black. Some would say it matched his soul, but he didn’t agree.

Right about now his soul was red. Fire-engine red. Crimson. The colour of passion and sin and debauchery. Maybe he’d buy her red lingerie for next time.

Her gaze was riveted to his hands as he hooked his thumbs into the elastic riding low on her hips and tugged, revealing her to him.

That expletive spilled from his lips again as he pressed against her—a gentle pressure that had her head falling back to rest on his shoulder.

But she didn’t stop staring at his hand as he slid a finger between her slick folds, circling her, her wet heat driving him slowly but surely insane.

‘Do you trust me?’

‘I’m watching you pleasure me. What do you think?’

He grinned. Even now she was feisty. He liked it.

‘Okay, then.’

He made quick work of tugging down his pants and boxers, biting back another curse when his hard-on made contact with her butt.

‘Spread your legs a fraction,’ he said, and slid between them when she did. The exquisite contact of his shaft with her moist heat almost undid him.

Amazingly, she didn’t stop him or ask questions. She trusted him not to enter her and that knowledge, after all he’d been through over the last year, turned him on more than anything she could have said or done.

‘Watch.’

He pushed forward, his erection fully between her legs, and she gasped as she saw him appear just beneath his hand.

‘Keep watching.’

And she did, as he slid in and out between her legs, mimicking what he’d give anything to be doing deep inside her now.

As his finger picked up the tempo she started moving, her hips pushing back against him, urging him to go faster.

So he did. The torturous friction was building. Peaking. Crescendoing.

She arched a second before she screamed, riding his hand as he’d have liked to be riding her.

He eased away, shocked by the intensity of her orgasm, and even more suprised when she dropped to her knees.

‘What are you doing—?’

‘If you have to ask, you’re not as good at all this as I thought.’

He would have laughed if she hadn’t taken him into her mouth. All the way.

It was his turn to watch, but he didn’t know where to look. At his fantasy come to life or in the mirror, where what she was doing was reflected back to him in eye-popping erotic detail.

He settled for watching her—the golden sheen of her hair beneath the bathroom lights, her lips surrounding him.

Then she started using her tongue and he lost it. He’d been close when she came, and all it took was three sweeps of her tongue around the tip.

His orgasm ripped through him with the force of an explosion and he swore loudly.

As residual shudders of pleasure rippled through him he held out his hands to help her stand.

She ignored them, pulling up her jeans as she ducked down to the sink.

Uh-oh.

He made himself decent, waiting for her to finish and look at him. The tap eased to a drip, she used a handtowel, still didn’t glance up.

‘Look at me.’

After a few moments her reluctant gaze met his.

‘Don’t go having second thoughts now.’ He snagged her hands, grateful she didn’t pull away this time. ‘What we just did blew my mind.’

Relief eased her drawn-together brows. ‘You’re inventive. I’ll say that for you.’

He laughed, and thankfully she joined in. He liked that she hadn’t clammed up on him or gone distant. He would have hated that.

‘But for the record—next time I’m bringing a box.’

‘To stand on?’

‘Of condoms.’ Buoyed by her sense of humour, he pulled her close, enveloping her in his arms with his chin resting on her head. ‘Guess I should be grateful you didn’t say there won’t be a next time.’

She nuzzled his neck in response, and if it wasn’t the damndest thing he was ready to go again. ‘There’ll be a next time. Count on it.’

He was. What he wasn’t counting on was the dazed anticipation in his eyes as he stared at his reflection.

For a guy used to being in total control, a guy who liked his sex without commitment, a guy wary of anything more, he looked like a guy in way over his head.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_faad059d-5b87-5ca3-8ddd-0465e22f99cf)

SAPPHIE SHOWERED AND brushed her teeth the next morning without looking in the mirror.

She couldn’t. Not unless she wanted to go into meltdown.