Mr. Temptation. Rachael Stewart
tightened her grip over the counter edge, trying desperately to regain control. ‘We shouldn’t do this.’
He closed what little gap remained, his hardness pressing up against her belly and replacing all sane thought with sensation, the pang between her legs instant and desperate. She clenched her thighs tight, nursing it, wanting it to grow and not wanting it to all the same.
His tongue flicked out to tease her mouth apart, his free hand joining the other to hook around her neck and hold her in place. ‘Then tell me to stop.’
He took her lower lip in his teeth and tugged, the effect ripping a moan from her and sending streaks of heat straight to her neglected clit—Christ. She wanted him. Badly.
‘I didn’t think so,’ he murmured against her, his tongue seeking entry as her own dared to taste him. He was so musky and male, gentle yet demanding. He teased around her mouth, testing every curve, stoking the fire inside.
And then he growled, the sound fierce as his tempo changed, his desperation breaking through his control and she ignited with it. Like a switch being flicked on, she came alive to match him, move for move, her own mouth hungry for more. Her hands seeking out the crazy flop of blond, and loving that he let her. That he didn’t care. Not like Charles. Charles would have told her to watch it, be careful...
He broke his mouth away, pinning his forehead against her own, his ragged breath sweeping down her front, down the channel of her V-cut blouse. ‘I think you’re very good at this.’
‘Is that so?’ Wow, was that really her? So heated, so flirtatious?
She looked to him from beneath her lashes, every nerve-ending alert as it craved the hardness ever-swelling against her.
Yes, this was her. And this man wasn’t Charles, he was as lost to the moment as she... Or was he?
Doubt sparked. What was she doing? She had no interest in opening herself up again. Especially with a man she didn’t know. Couldn’t trust.
His mouth closed over hers once more, ravenous and urgent, his hand dropping to lift her against him. She moulded into him, her neck arching under the pressure of his continued kiss, her muddied thoughts warring with the passion racing through her veins. It felt so good to feel this rush again.
Again? Who are you kidding? No one has made you feel this crazy, this hungry, this desired.
And she could trust him enough to give in to this—couldn’t she?
He had heart enough; he wore it on his sleeve for Julia, his sister—her client. Shit!
She stilled beneath him, her eyes flying open.
You’re meant to be working, not getting cosy with your client’s brother!
She pushed him away, ignoring his widened gaze and the hard expanse of muscle that flexed beneath her touch. What the hell was he playing at, pretending to have something to discuss, only to seduce her? ‘That was a dirty trick.’
‘What was?’
She forced her breathing to steady, shifting her eyes away from the seductive fire in his. ‘Coming in here, under the pretence of a conversation, only to make a move.’
She stepped around him and headed to the sink, amazed that she could make her jelly-like body do her bidding. She took up a plastic jug from the drainer and turned on the tap, throwing her focus into what she was supposed to be doing.
‘I wasn’t pretending anything,’ he said, his voice still so near in the closed-in space. ‘I wanted to speak to you without my sister listening in.’
‘Really?’ She raised a sardonic brow at him over her shoulder and regretted even looking. He was ruffled, the evidence of her touch in the state of his hair, his puffed-up lips, the heat to his cheeks. He was too hot before, now he just taunted her with what she knew to be real. What she knew she could have if she chose it.
He grinned. ‘Yes, really. It was your provocation that made me forget it.’
‘My provocation?’ Water overflowed the jug in her hand but she couldn’t care.
‘Yes, you.’ He reached out and cupped her chin, scanning her face with that same curious look he’d been sporting half the morning. ‘There’s just something about you, and I can’t seem to control my reaction to it.’
She couldn’t speak. Wasn’t it how she felt too? Hadn’t he broken through the layers she’d effectively held in place for months, all in the space of a look, a touch...?
But hell, it was hardly surprising when she’d been celibate for so long.
‘Need a hand with that?’ he said, reaching around her to twist the tap off and his proximity made her heart skitter anew.
‘Thank you,’ she said, backing away enough to escape the kitchen, jug in hand, the spark of an idea creeping up on her that she just knew she should quash before it took hold. It wasn’t wise, it wasn’t rational...but still, it was there...
Would one night do it?
One night—with him?
She walked around the flat, watering the plants that adorned it, all the while feeling his eyes on her, penetrating her, lighting her up from top to toe. He’d resumed the position he’d been in earlier, his brooding silhouette resting up against the bathroom door. And just as he had then, he clouded her judgement, her mind struggling to function under the effect of his gaze.
Would one night release her from this? Clear her mind and rid her body of this insane need so that normal service could resume?
‘I think you’ve given that one enough.’
‘What?’ She frowned and followed his line of sight to the spider plant she was tending to, seeing the water pooling at the pot rim, a trickle commencing down the side. She cursed, her cheeks warming as she righted the jug. Seemed she couldn’t even cope with the simple task of watering plants in his presence—unbelievable.
‘Can you pass me some kitchen towel?’ she snapped and then cringed, realising she was projecting her frustration onto him and making herself add a guilt-ridden, ‘Please?’
She wished she hadn’t softened her request when she saw how his eyes danced, how amused he was at her fluster, knowing it was because he understood the cause.
‘Sure.’ He pushed away from the door and headed into the kitchen area.
She forced her eyes away. She couldn’t carry on like this. For however long it took to find his sister a home, she needed to get this under control. Christ, she needed his sister to spread a good word. Not tell every Tom, Dick and Harry that she was an airhead... Or, worse, that she couldn’t stop lusting after her brother long enough to concentrate.
‘Here,’ he said, coming up alongside her and offering out the paper towel.
‘Thank you.’
She didn’t quite meet his eye as she took it and bent forward to clean up the mess.
Now was the time, she realised; if she wanted to put the idea to him, she needed to do it now. ‘One date.’
He stilled in the periphery of her vision. ‘A date?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ignoring the bemusement in his tone.
Hell, you’d be bemused if someone had just burst out with those two words.
Straightening up and smoothing her wrist over her hair to right it while avoiding the damp kitchen towel clutched in her hand, she nodded. ‘Let’s go on one date together.’
‘You want to do that?’
Yes... No... Yes.
The words whirled through her mind as their gazes locked and she lost