by Louise Bay
“I never knew drinking tequila could be this sexy,” I said, copying him by coating my index finger in my drink and sweeping it across his lips. I paused for a second, and he leaned toward me, encouraging me, inviting me. I couldn’t help myself; I leaned forward and licked him clean.
He groaned and caught my tongue with his, pressing and pushing, taking and giving. My breathing came out ragged and uneven, and heat rose between my thighs. How could a public kiss be this hot? What was I doing, giving in to the kisses of a man who could only ever hurt me?
Playing with fire.
Setting myself up for a fall.
Opening my heart to someone I knew couldn’t give me what I needed.
But I didn’t care. Not right then. It was just kissing. It was just tonight.
FOURTEEN
Noah
We had only kissed last night but it felt like more. As I sat facing the changing rooms at the office of the stylist, a tray of champagne on the table in front of me, it still felt like more.
Despite resolving to keep things about the foundation, last night something had snapped within me. Seeing her up on that stage, it was as if her devotion to all the good causes, her commitment, her desire to do right by so many people had all reached a crescendo. Seeing her on stage, giving a speech, dressed in an evening gown that left me speechless and unable to take my eyes off her, I was proud, overcome—defeated.
I’d wanted her.
And then her heat, the way she tasted and softened last night under my touch? It was passion and purity all wrapped up in one.
I should have held back, but I’d selfishly taken what I wanted without a thought for the consequences. I’d almost done the same just before I left for New York. But this time was different. There were even more reasons I should have held back. This time I wasn’t going anywhere. We were friends, our lives entangled, and that made things complicated.
“There’s no way,” Truly mumbled through the door to the changing room.
“Come out and let me see,” I called. “You’re hungover. You’re in no place to judge.”
The girl still couldn’t drink, which was why last night had stopped at kissing.
I grinned as I remembered carrying Truly up the stairs to her flat. She’d insisted she could sleep in the bar. In the Range Rover. Or on the pavement—wherever it was that we were on route back to her place.
“Shall I come in?” asked Natalie, the stylist Veronica had set me up with.
“It doesn’t fit. I can’t see where this arm is meant to go,” Truly muttered.
Natalie shot me a smile, knocked on the door, and went in to help.
I’d always liked Truly, thought she was gorgeous from the first moment I saw her, but since she’d turned me down at the wedding, I’d backed off. Become the friend she insisted we should remain, but whatever attraction I’d felt for her in the beginning had been magnified last night. I’d felt it a thousand times stronger than I ever remembered.
So I’d kissed her. And kissed her again. It seemed like it had gone on for hours. And even now, sitting here with my hangover, all I could think about was her half-dressed on the other side of that door.
I needed to get a grip.
I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. My new assistant had arranged for an IT system to be installed at the office, and I now had a business email address. I knew I wanted part of my job to be investing in up-and-coming entrepreneurs, but seeing the state of the rehab center and helping the foundation had made me want to do more—really make a difference.
Natalie burst through the door, a huge grin on her face, then turned and held her hand out, coaxing Truly out of the changing room.
“It’s not very me, is it?”
I couldn’t focus on her question because I was mesmerized by her. And her outfit. “Well, it’s certainly very . . .” It wasn’t that it showed a lot of flesh—or any, for that matter. It was a one-shouldered black jumpsuit that teased with every curve it hid. The material flared out at the waist and clung to her arse.
“I knew it. I look ridiculous.”
“You really don’t. You look sexy as hell. Turn around.” It was conservative and obscene at the same time. “I think you should get it.”
“You do?” She looked at me as if she thought I was losing my mind. “It’s super expensive.”
“You look great. How does it feel?”
She avoided my question. “It’s not the sort of thing I’d wear in the office. Or at a ball.”
“No,” Natalie said. “It’s an evening outfit. Perfect for a date night. Or cocktails.”
Truly scoffed. “I’m not really a cocktails kind of girl.”
She was so cute. So bloody adorable. Drunk or sober. In jeans or an evening gown. Last night or now.
“Dates, then?” Natalie asked.
Truly cleared her throat. “I think I’d prefer to focus on things I know I’ll wear.”
Did she date? Was she dating? The thought of her with another man had my jaw tight and my fists clenched.
“The next couple of outfits are perfect for the office,” Natalie said.
Truly exhaled. “Let’s try those.”
Natalie was right; the next couple of things were perfect work wear. A dark green dress that made her hair look black as night and a pair of trousers that had me asking her to spin around twice so I could check out her arse and then wondering whether I wanted other people to see her look so incredible.
What was happening? I might have been able to convince myself that my attraction to Truly last night had been courtesy of the tequila and her red dress, but today, no matter what she tried on, I couldn’t help but imagine her out of it.
At the bar, I’d not thought through kissing her. I’d just acted on instinct and alcohol, but the same desire I had last night seemed to have seeped through into today. What had changed? Why had I kissed her last night when until then I’d been content with being friends?
I knew I enjoyed spending time with Truly. I looked forward to it, felt lucky that she gave me some of her hard-won attention. Truly was special. Rare. I liked her relentless honesty, the way my money didn’t impact the way she was with me. I liked the way I knew that although she looked hotter than Hades in a tight dress and high heels, she looked just as sexy in a Batman t-shirt and pajama bottoms. I liked the fact that she worked so hard and was exceptional at what she did. And I liked that I couldn’t outsmart her in a pub quiz or over a conversation about the economy of China.
But none of those things meant that kissing her had been a good idea. My relationship with Rob and Abigail meant there was more at stake than usual. My friendship with Truly hung in the balance. After not seeing her for so long, I realized how much I valued our friendship, and I didn’t want to lose that again.
What was happening to me? I groaned, uncomfortable at the unfamiliar, shifting ground beneath me.
“Are you bored?” Truly asked from the other side of the changing room.
“No, just trying to get my email to work.”
“Are you sure?”
I was anything but bored when I was with Truly, which was something I couldn’t say that about most of the women I spent time with. Maybe it was because I wasn’t sleeping with Truly that she was more interesting to me. “I promise I’m not bored.”
My phone buzzed. “Hey, I just got a message from Rob inviting me over for dinner.”
A ping followed by a giggle suggested Truly’d just received the same message. “Yeah, me too. But that’s weird for a Saturday, especially with Abigail in bed.”
My phone buzzed again at the same time as a ping rang out from the other side of the dressing room door.
“Ahhh. That’s nice,” Truly said. “We’re going to have dinner in their bedroom to help Abigail feel less stir-crazy. My sister doesn’t do well without lots of noise and people around her.”
“Can you make it?” I asked.
“Sure. It’s Saturday night—not like I have anythin
g better to do.” The rustle of fabric filled the silence. “Can you make it?”
“Yeah, I can make it.” I wasn’t sure there was anything better to do than have dinner with old friends. And Truly. “We can go straight after this.”
Truly appeared in the door to the changing room. “Does this say winter ball to you?”
I swallowed, glancing down from her neckline where her breasts threatened to spill over the top of the navy-blue velvet. The bodice was fitted, and made it look as if I could wrap my hands around her waist. Because I couldn’t form the words to tell her how incredible she looked, or how I wanted to push her back into the changing room, burrow under her skirt, and taste her, I just nodded.
“You hate it?” she asked, disappointment heavy on her face.
I shook my head. “I think it’s perfect.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking about the outfit or her.
A smile crept over her face. “Really?”
“You know it.”
She leaned forward, peering left as if to check if anyone was around. Natalie was at the other end of the store looking at accessories. “It’s not easy to get in and out of.”
I slid my phone onto the table in front of me and stood. “You need a hand?” I asked, my heart pounding.
She paused and our eyes locked. “Just with the zip.”
I nodded and stalked toward her as she backed up into the changing room.
She turned and swept her hair up so I could reach the fastening.
I inched it down as slow as I could stand, tracing my finger above the seam, then down as the fabric revealed the smooth skin of her back. All I could hear was the heavy thud of my heart against my ribcage and the way she tried to keep her breathing even. When she tilted her head to one side and let out a little sigh, I couldn’t resist pressing a kiss against the curve of her neck.
The zip undone, I slid my hands around her waist and held her, wanting to stay as we were for just a few minutes.
“How was that?” Natalie called.
I released Truly and stepped back as she shooed me out of the room. “It’s hard to get in and out of,” she replied. “But I kind of love it.”
I grinned. I kinda loved that dress, too.
As Truly changed into the next outfit, I got to my feet and pulled Natalie aside. “Can you put the jumpsuit on my account and have it delivered to me?” I knew Truly would never spend the money herself if she couldn’t wear it to work. But even if she never wore it, Truly should own that jumpsuit. And she should wear it. For cocktails. Or dates.
With me.
FIFTEEN
Truly
As I waited at the red lights, I skirted my fingers across my neck where Noah had kissed me, remembering how he’d taken such an excruciatingly long time to unzip my dress. It was as if he’d been savoring every moment we were so close.
I’d expected last night’s tequila-induced kissing to be easy to sweep under the carpet. But as soon as I’d seen Noah this afternoon, all the feelings I’d been trying to push down had risen to the surface. It was becoming more and more difficult to pretend they weren’t there. Lying to myself wasn’t working. Then the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d touched me? He was shooting holes in every defense I had. I was supposed to be being sensible. Keeping my distance.
A car honked and I moved forward, then around the corner. We’d traveled to the stylist separately. It gave me some time to breathe. But I still didn’t have any answers. Just a few seconds later I was pulling in to Rob and Abigail’s drive about to face him again.
Noah’s car was already there. No surprise, as I’d stopped for wine for the three of us and macarons for my sister.
I knocked and let myself in.
“Just turn it slightly,” I heard Rob say, his voice strained.
“It’s only me.” I started up the stairs and came face-to-face with Noah’s broad back and perfect arse.
“You need to shift it to you,” Noah said.
“Why are you guys moving furniture?” I asked.
“We need to make our bedroom more social,” Rob replied. “The sofa from the study will fit and give people somewhere comfortable to sit”—he heaved as they came to another tricky maneuver at the top of the stairs—“when they come visit,” he finished as Noah reached the top step.
“I’ll go and get some glasses,” I said.
“Bring a bottle of that pinot noir that Noah brought. It’s in the wine fridge.”
I padded down the stairs, stuck the considerably cheaper bottle that I’d brought with me in the wine fridge and took out one of the ones I recognized from lunch a couple of weeks ago. I stuck the box of macarons under my arm, forked my fingers through the glasses, and scooped up the wine.
“Do you need a hand?” Rob called from upstairs.
“No, I’m on my way.”
As I reached the doorway to Rob and Abigail’s bedroom, I paused, watching the three of them chat. This was all so familiar. So comfortable and one of the many reasons why Noah and I shouldn’t have kissed last night. In the completely impossible scenario that we started dating, what happened when it was over? I might be able to imagine us growing old and gray together, but that wasn’t the way Noah operated. He’d soon get bored, end things, and then evenings like this wouldn’t ever happen. I’d avoid lunch. He’d make excuses for not coming over for drinks. And I’d lose him as a friend. It wasn’t worth it.
“Hey,” I said. “I’ve brought wine and treats for the pregnant lady.”
“Tell me the treats are macarons,” Abi said.
“Of course.” I caught Noah grinning at me out of the corner of my eye.
Abi reached out her arms for the sugar like a toddler.
“Hang on.” Noah jumped up and took the wine and the glasses.
“Thanks,” I said, catching his eye and giving him a small smile.
I pulled the box of macarons from under my arm and held them up. “These are the ones, right?”
Abigail glanced between Noah and me without looking at the box.
“Abi?” I said.
She frowned and held out her hand. “Sure. They’re great. So, tell me, Noah, how’s Truly doing? Did last night go well? Truly didn’t send me a single photograph or even message me to let me know.”
“Sorry, I totally forgot,” I replied while Noah smirked, knowing why I’d forgotten.
“Did something dreadful happen?” Abi sat straight up, horror unfolding across her face. “Oh my God.” She flopped back down dramatically. “Were you drunk on stage? Is there video?”
“You have nothing to worry about,” Noah replied. “Truly was completely sober when she did her speech. You didn’t even have a sip of wine, did you?” He turned to me and I shook my head. “And she was . . . remarkable. They laughed at her jokes, applauded in all the right places. They loved her.”
Abi glanced from Noah to me and back again. “Oh,” she said. “Good. Great. So, everything went smoothly?”
I nodded. “It wasn’t as good as it would have been if you’d handled it, but it was fine.”
“It was a lot better than fine,” Noah said. “You were really warm and natural—completely yourself.”
My cheeks heated at his words. He sounded so genuine. Not at all as if he were saying it just to make Abi feel better or to boost my confidence.
“Anyway, luckily it’s over with now. So, nothing until the lunch with Global Tronics and then the new corporate donor lunch in a couple of weeks. Oh, I have the presentation to Artemis Group.” I stopped talking. There was so much happening and if I let myself think about all the things I had to do, it was easy to get overwhelmed. I’d save that for when I wasn’t with Abigail. She didn’t need to see how much anxiety her absence caused.
“So why did Noah smirk when I asked why I’d not seen any pictures?” Abigail asked. “It’s like you two are keeping something from me.”
If only she knew. But she couldn’t know. She’d think I was an idiot to succumb to advances from such a
practiced player.
I shook my head, ready to skirt over it, when Noah said, “We went out for a drink afterward.”
Shit.
“You didn’t want to get home?” Abi asked. She knew I hated being out late. That for me, the best part of any social function was getting home and back to a good book.
“Just a quick drink,” I said, hoping I wasn’t blushing. Abigail couldn’t know about the way Noah had held my hand, pressed his thigh against mine, kissed me. How he touched me like he couldn’t get enough, unzipped my dress this afternoon, and held me until we’d been interrupted.
“Your sister’s a lightweight,” Noah said.
“Hey,” I replied, feigning offence. “I did nearly two shots.”
“Two shots of tequila?” Abigail asked.
Noah chuckled. “She drank one and passed out halfway through the second. If I hadn’t taken you home, you would have woken up on the curb.”
My sister narrowed her eyes as if she was trying to figure out if I’d had highlights or a nose job or something else that made me look different. “Boys, can you go check on dinner? I’m starving.”
“Err, okay,” Rob said, putting down the wine he was just about to sip. Poor Rob. Abigail wore the trousers in their relationship at the best of times, but now that she was bedbound, Rob couldn’t complain about any request Abigail made.
“Take your wine,” she said. I got the distinct feeling that hunger was not driving Abigail. She wanted to know something she didn’t want to ask about in front of Rob or Noah.
“So,” I said, turning to her as they filed out. “You can rest easy, knowing I’m not drinking on the job. I’ve prepared the slides for the meeting with Artemis next week and I’ve—”
“Truly,” she said, fixing me with her older-sister glare. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I told you everything’s under control and you—”
“Shut up about the foundation. You know that’s not what I mean. What’s going on with you and Noah?”
Heat crept up my neck, and I willed myself not to blush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s helping me fill in for you, which was your husband’s suggestion, by the way.” She didn’t have to know everything about me, right?