Sweet Temptation / A Private Affair. Lauren Hawkeye
skin flushed and eyes bright from his touch, made it so tempting to seal their deal right then, right there.
But she was giving him a gift, and he wanted to do right by her. So he simply ran a hand over the stubble on his skull and grinned.
“Go home, Meg. Think this over. Are you free tomorrow night?”
She nodded, and the trust in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees.
“Come to my hotel for dinner.”
“You don’t have to feed me,” she said as she smiled wryly. “You don’t have to wait, either.”
“You said you wanted to be taken care of,” he reminded her, surprising himself by crossing the space between them and taking her hand in his. He liked the feeling of her fingers twined with his. “I intend to do that.”
She frowned, clearly puzzled, and he swallowed a chuckle. He didn’t mind throwing this confident, competent woman off her game, just a bit.
“So cold showers for us both tonight?” She cocked her head as she spoke, leaning forward slightly. Deliberately, he was sure, to give him a prime view of her rather spectacular tits spilling out the top of her dress.
His cock stiffened impossibly further.
“I’ll take a shower,” he agreed, squeezing her fingers, “but I’ll be doing it with my cock in my hand, thinking about you.”
“John!” she gasped, her hand reflexively squeezing his. “God.”
“You can call me both of those things as much as you want.” He rubbed his thumb over one of her fingers, wondering why the small gesture made his pulse quicken. “But save them for tomorrow. You keep those busy little fingers out of your panties tonight, understood?”
“You’re not serious.” Her spine stiffened. “You can’t tell—”
“I can, and I just did.” He smirked down at her, bending so that he could whisper into her ear. “You gave yourself to me for a week, remember? And I won’t be cheated out of one of your orgasms.”
Meg’s breath thickened, and he wanted to take care of the mean little ache he’d given her, right then and there.
“There she is!”
Meg and John jerked apart, fingers untangling as they heard Jo’s unmistakable, throaty voice. Looking across the parking lot, they saw Meg’s sister and Theo, winding their way through the parked cars.
“What are you doing out here?” Theo frowned at John. John scowled right back, burying a twist of guilt.
He was new to this whole friendship thing, but he was pretty sure that making plans to screw the lights out of someone your friend considered a sister was a no-no.
“We wanted to talk, and it was too loud in there,” Meg replied mildly. She gave no sign of what they’d been discussing, and John had to admire her self-control, because he felt as though his actions were scrawled in red, right across his face for anyone to read.
He felt that twist of guilt, yes, but what he felt for Meg was stronger. Interesting.
“Did he behave himself?” Theo asked Meg darkly as he shot a look at John. His tone was joking, but John again felt the burn.
He’d cultivated the playboy image for years—reveled in it, even. Why did he suddenly care that people saw him that way?
That was a question for another day. He was trying to think up a reply when Meg cut him off.
“Theo, remember what happened when you gave me the John lecture last time?” Her voice was light, pleasant, but with a thread of steel.
“I’m just trying to—” Theo’s words broke off on a shriek as Meg, lightning quick, snaked out a hand. Catching Theo’s left nipple in nimble fingers, she gave it a quick twist that buckled his knees.
“What? Why?” Theo clasped a hand to his wounded chest, his expression tragic as a baby bird fallen from its nest.
“You don’t get to mansplain my choice of bed partners, bro.” Smoothing her hair back, Meg lifted her chin in the air. “And you have nothing to worry about. John and I understand each other perfectly. Now, did you have a reason to track me down?”
“We’re going home,” Theo bit out, glaring at Meg. “Though I’m second-guessing offering you a ride.”
“You deserved it,” Jo informed her partner. The wounded expression on Theo’s face brought laughter rumbling out of John’s chest.
He watched as the three of them piled into Theo’s car, bickering all the way. The message was clear—they were family. They depended on one another. It was something he’d never had, something he didn’t fully understand, and the thought that he was somehow a part of it, even on the periphery, was both comforting and anxiety inducing.
Meg looked out the window as they drove away, and family was suddenly the last thought in his brain. She winked at him suggestively, then made an incredibly dirty gesture with her fingers, and he burst out laughing again.
Tomorrow night was a long way away.
MAKING DELIVERIES WAS the part of owning a catering company that Meg liked the least. Today, however, as she made her way from business to business, she found herself grateful for the monotonous busywork.
Making sure that the accounting firm two blocks from her rented kitchen had the correct assortment of cinnamon raisin, multigrain and jalapeño cheddar bagels in their twice-weekly breakfast order kept her from focusing on the way John’s hand had felt as it curved around her thigh, holding her open to him. Delivering a platter of beautifully cut tropical fruit to a local spa helped her keep her mind on something other than how good it had felt to have his rock-solid erection rocking against her damp cleft. And ensuring that she had vegan, paleo, Whole30-and keto-friendly lunch options for a big law firm helped calm the nerves she felt when she thought about the fact that she’d offered herself up on a giant silver platter to a man with wicked intentions in his eyes.
Her feet stumbled as she carried an empty cooler through a revolving door and back to her van. Stowing it inside, she took a moment to perch on the bumper, drawing deeply from her water bottle.
Five more hours. Was she insane?
She contemplated that for a long moment as she wiped sweat from her brow and let the cool water soothe her dry throat.
Theo liked to talk, and while part of his warning about John had simply been to let Meg know that his friend was a player and wouldn’t stick around, the other part...
The other had been meant as a cautionary tale, a story of how John was into control, dominance, being on top, however you wanted to put it.
While she was still irritated with him for presuming that she wanted his opinion on the matter, Theo had, in his weird but loving way, meant to demonstrate that John was not someone Meg would be interested in.
Theo had been wrong.
Yes, she was nervous about what would happen tonight, but more than that, she was excited. She certainly wasn’t going to chicken out, not when she knew, knew right down to her soul, that this next week was going to be something she looked back on when she was eighty and cackled over with glee.
Screwing the cap back on her water bottle, Meg’s certainty faltered for a second as she tried to picture John as a senior citizen, charming all the ladies as he stomped around with his walker. Would he look back on this week with the same warm memories? Would he even remember?
“Doesn’t matter,” she reminded herself as she swung out the back of the van. Closing the doors firmly behind her, she circled the vehicle, then lifted herself up into the driver’s