Waking Up In The Wrong Bed. Natalie Anderson
bank balance to be able to stay here. A guy this fit was probably some elite athlete or something. She wondered if she ought to recognise him.
‘Perhaps people thought his folly was his marriage.’
‘Oh.’ Ellie paused. ‘Shame if he was heartbroken. This isn’t a place for heartbreak.’
Her naked lover chuckled. ‘Only for pleasure, huh? But you and your colleague were here for business?’
‘I wasn’t supposed to come here at all.’ She flushed deeper at the unintended entendre. ‘It’s not one of my files but last minute our boss wanted me to be here for backup.’
‘So what’s the business?’
‘I work as a location scout. You know—finding places to film movies and stuff.’
His brows lifted as he picked up her lack of enthusiasm. ‘You don’t think this would be a good location?’
‘It would be an amazing location,’ Ellie said fervently. ‘And I know it sounds like an amazing job and all—it’s actually really not that much fun.’
‘How can having to spend time in places like this not be fun?’ he challenged her.
‘I don’t get to come on the trips much.’ She coloured again as she saw him smile. ‘I’m usually stuck in the office working on the paperwork. I’ve not been there that long.’ She shrugged. Trouble was she excelled at paperwork—every job she had she’d done too well in the admin department to be let out of it. Frustrating wasn’t the word.
‘And so to make sure you got the most out of this trip, you went hunting for some pleasure as well?’ He was laughing as he said it.
And what could she do? There was no hope in denying it or in explaining the mad moment of need for contact that she’d experienced. So she nodded. ‘Massive mistake.’
‘Yeah, but not a disaster.’
Not a disaster, no—she’d had the best sex of her life. But it had been with a total stranger. They hadn’t even kissed. There was absolutely no emotional connection between them. It just wasn’t supposed to work that way. And she couldn’t want more—could she? She tried to claw back her common sense—because what kind of a guy happily screwed complete strangers? A playboy. With a smile that cheeky and attitude that cocky? Yeah, as he’d admitted, he was no innocent.
She closed her eyes and groaned. ‘Why didn’t I turn on the light?’
‘Given the way you’re clutching that sheet around you, I’m guessing you like it best in the dark.’ He laughed. ‘Typical.’
‘Excuse me?’ Indignance rose, she couldn’t restrain her reaction to his tease.
‘Hiding your body.’ He shook his head. ‘What a waste.’
There was some truth to his accusation. Lights on for sex wasn’t something that did it for her—fast-train to self-conscious. And it was then that she became aware of what she must look like—no doubt her hair would be bigger and more bouffant than some eighties rockstar’s. Oh, fabulous. At least she wouldn’t have panda eyes from smudged mascara. But still, this didn’t really make up for the fact that she’d slept with the wrong guy. The guy she couldn’t tear her eyes from.
He was smiling as dangerously as ever. ‘But then you clearly have a latent wild streak.’
It seemed so. But next time she felt in need of satisfaction she’d mail order a vibrator. She clamped her elbows to her ribs, holding the sheet in place while she tried to cool her cheeks with her hands. She was getting turned on all over again just by looking at the guy. ‘Look, I really should go. Let’s just forget this ever happened.’
She attempted a march to the door. Only her sheet was a liability and his nudity gave him a speed advantage.
‘You don’t get away just yet.’ He leaned against the door blocking her exit, all six feet four inches of bared magnificence. ‘We have some more to talk about.’
Now he was standing up and towering over her, she had the melting sensation so deep it was unbearable. Her fingers itched; she could hardly stand still against the hot pull inside. Secret muscles flexed in excitement. Her heart thundered.
‘Will you put some clothes on?’ she asked desperately. He was too damn hot and she couldn’t think with him like that.
His amusement flared again. ‘Why? I’m not going to hide how attracted I am to you.’
It wasn’t her he was attracted to, it was sex. And his nudity was messing with her hormones too. She’d gone completely animal. She half laughed on a gasp. ‘Just please put some clothes on. Please.’
He shrugged his refusal, his expression one of total tease. ‘I’m comfortable. You’re really not comfortable with baring all, are you?’
What she wasn’t comfortable with was her body’s insane reaction to the sight of his—tall, toned and so sex-ready her insides were curling in on themselves. Her nerves clamoured for the sensation of him sliding in and out of her. This complete stranger had her more insanely excited than she’d ever been in her life. ‘Well, can you please turn around while I get decent?’
‘Really?’ His full lips pouted. ‘I don’t get the peep show?’
‘You’ve had more than enough, okay?’ she choked. ‘Please be the gentleman I know you are and turn around.’
‘What makes you so certain I’m a gentleman?’
She fearlessly held eye contact. ‘You let the lady go first.’
‘Oh, that wasn’t gentlemanly. That was for my own pleasure.’ His lips curved more deeply into that delicious smile and he answered mock primly, ‘But, okay, if you insist, I shall avert my eyes.’
He presented her with his rear view. She just gawped for a second, before remembering her intention and dropping the sheet to hurriedly dash back across the room, around the bed to find her slip. Glancing down, she saw a couple of light bruises colouring her thigh. The faintest of finger marks. She remembered his firm clutch with vivid clarity. The squeezes as she’d slid down to take him to the hilt over and over. She turned her head away and screwed her eyes shut tight, as if she could block the blush as the involuntary excitement skittered through her.
‘Okay, I’m decent.’ Breathing in, she watched him turn back to face her. He was no more physically ‘relaxed’.
‘You were wearing that?’ He half gasped, theatrically pressing his hand against his ribs. ‘Damn, I wish you had turned on the lights.’
‘Stop it.’ She laughed. ‘You don’t need to try and flatter me.’
‘Yeah, I do.’ He walked towards her, totally serious now. ‘How can I not?’
She could see the muscles twitching under his skin. She’d never considered herself any kind of seductress before and she knew she wasn’t really now—it was that sexual toy thing. They shared an illicit fantasy for real. The guy was no doubt sex-mad. Insatiable. One track. Only problem with that was his condition had rubbed off on her. Hell, the thought of him finding her so attractive put a zing in her step. But to do this again—stone-cold sober and in the cold light of day? She wasn’t that crazy. She backed up, snatched up the towel from the low table next to her and threw it at him in defence.
He caught it and held it so it unfolded like a flag. ‘What am I supposed to do with this?’
Oh, hell, she’d not got the towel—only the facecloth that had sat on top of it. Pocket-hanky-sized—ridiculously small hanging from his hand.
‘I’m insulted,’ he teased. ‘I think you need a refresher in what I have to offer.’
‘Oh, don’t.’ She giggled, unable to hide her all-over-body blush in just the slip—she needed the sheet back. ‘Just...don’t.’