by Nina Croft
He jolted out of the daydream to find her watching him, her lips pursed. He tossed the tie on top of the jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and came across to stand over her. She was staring, which was good.
“More wine?”
She swallowed the rest of her wine in one gulp and held out her glass. After topping off both, he sank down on the sofa beside her, leaving a good foot between them. All the same, she inched away a little more until she could go no farther, before turning to study him, a slightly calculating expression in her eyes.
“So you’re looking to settle down?”
Hmmm, what was the right answer to that one? “No. Definitely not anymore. I’d just like to meet some nice people, make some friends, and concentrate on my career.”
She took another gulp of wine. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a journalist. For a woman’s magazine.”
Hmm, probably wrote about makeup and clothes. That would go with her image.
“What was her name?” Julia asked. “Your girlfriend, I mean.”
Shit. He hadn’t thought of that one. He grasped around. “Melanie. Her name was Melanie.”
“Sweet name.”
“She was. Sweet, I mean.” An image flashed up in his mind of a naked Melanie chained to his bedroom wall, complete with ruby nipple rings and a tattoo of “Eat Me” scrawled across her flat stomach. He couldn’t fight the grin stretching his face at the irony of ever calling her sweet.
“Aw,” Julia said softly. “You’re smiling—you obviously still like her. So why did you break up?”
Shit. Why the hell did they split up? Why would someone leave an accountant? Boring sex immediately came to mind. “Well, I imagined we’d spend the rest of our lives together. But it turned out an accountant wasn’t exciting enough for her.”
Her eyes widened. “Is that what she said?”
“Not in so many words. But she said marriage was for boring people. And she wanted to try things. Things I wasn’t comfortable with.” He cringed on the inside. While he could totally see a bean counter running a mile when faced with Melanie’s preferences, that didn’t keep him from feeling like he’d just handed in his man card.
Julia’s eyes widened even farther, and he wondered if he’d gone too far. Maybe you didn’t talk about such things with your friends. Especially not your platonic girlfriends. Hell, how was he supposed to know?
“Hey, I’m just a normal guy. Maybe that is boring, but it’s the way I am.”
Obviously the right words because her full lips curved into a smile. She put down her glass and edged closer, rested a hand on his arm below where his shirtsleeves were rolled up. At the touch of her against his skin, a tingle ran through him, followed by a shiver of apprehension as it occurred to him that what Dante really wanted was for him to fuck the “good” out of Julia. And that Sebastian would love doing it.
…
Julia resisted the urge to rub her palm against her jeans. It felt as though she’d had an electric shock. Static? Or Thing waking? The former, she hoped.
Searching for something to say, she only just resisted the urge to ask for juicy details. That image flashed in her mind of the two of them going at it doggy fashion—but that was hardly kinky. What had Melanie wanted him to do?
Sex toys, group stuff…bondage. But who got to tie who up? Maybe Melanie had wanted to tie him up and whip him. She cast him a sideways glance. He was so big. What would it feel like to have all that under your control? Yours to do with as you wanted. Powerless to resist.
She wriggled on her seat and then jumped as he cleared his throat. Crap, she’d offered to be this guy’s friend and here she was only minutes later fantasizing about getting him in compromising situations involving him being chained up and at her mercy. Situations he clearly wasn’t comfortable with. Pity. “Melanie obviously wasn’t sweet at all.” She thought for a moment. “How long ago was this split up?”
“Three months.”
“And there’s been no one?”
I haven’t…” He glanced away. “I haven’t even felt like that since Melanie.” He grinned ruefully. “Not even a twitch.”
That was good news, because if there was one thing Julia found hard to resist, it was a challenge. As a distraction, he was perfect. And he wasn’t looking for commitment. Even more perfect.
She studied him surreptitiously. He had to be the most beautiful guy she had ever seen. How had Melanie ever let him go? Could he really be that boring in bed? Maybe all he needed was a good teacher.
She reckoned she could just stare at him and come if she thought hard enough. Especially if he was naked and chained to the wall.
Those eyes were mesmerizing. Dark green and if she leaned closer, she could make out little gold flecks and black rings around the iris.
“You have the most amazing eyes,” she murmured without thinking.
His eyebrows rose. He didn’t say anything, but he reached up and took off his glasses and tossed them on the table.
“From my father,” he said. “Or so my mother told me.”
“You didn’t know him. That’s so sad.”
“No. He disappeared before I was born, but apparently, he was blond with green eyes. I got his eyes but the rest was from my mother—she’s Spanish.”
That accounted for the dusky gold skin and the midnight-dark hair. “Does she live in Spain?”
“No, she’s dead.”
Poor man. He didn’t know his father, his mother was dead, and his girlfriend had dumped him. Obviously, all he’d wanted was a nice, normal family life and the bitch had told him he wasn’t exciting enough. Julia had always been secure in her big family. She couldn’t imagine not having that support, not knowing there were people who would look out for her whatever she did. Just because she belonged.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”
He’d relaxed back in his seat and was returning her scrutiny, but his eyes were shadowed. She scooted around on the seat and inched a little closer. Breathing in, she scented a subtle sweetness tinged with spice. Not an aftershave she recognized—it was unique. All mixed with a musky male scent that made her stomach quiver.
What the hell was wrong with her?
She was going to scare him off if she wasn’t careful.
Friends, remember?
And then he smiled. Electricity hummed under her skin and she couldn’t resist one quick touch. She reached out and stroked her hand down his cheek, along his jawline. The skin was rough with growth. Her fingertips met the smooth curve of his lower lip and she snatched her hand back, then peeked at him from under her lashes.
A dull flush formed along his cheekbones, and he shifted in his seat.
Maybe he wasn’t entirely unaffected. This was exactly what she needed to take her mind off her problems—a project. Give Bastian his confidence back.
After all, neither of them was looking for commitment. Just a little harmless fun.
Her hand came up again, and she cupped his cheek, slid her palm around the back of his neck, and gave a little tug.
At first, he resisted, and then he slowly lowered his head to hers. She hadn’t intended to move this fast, but something drove her on. His mouth was soft but firm and his lips stayed closed.
He drew back slightly, a frown forming between his eyes. “You feel sorry for me. I get that.”
“No. You’re a good-looking guy.” And that was the understatement of the century…probably the millennium. “And I haven’t kissed a man in a while, and I was curious and…and I’m babbling.”
She never babbled. Usually, nothing fazed her. But something about Bastian made her on edge. Made her crave the taste of his tongue, yearn to know what he felt like deep inside her. Jesus, where were these thoughts coming from? She always let the man take the lead. It made her feel less guilty when she dumped them as she invariably did.
Her hand was still at the back of hi
s neck, and she slipped it into the silky hair at his nape. His lashes fluttered closed.
“That’s what I miss. Not the sex, just the touching,” he murmured.
She rested her other hand on his chest, and beneath her palm his heart thudded a rapid beat. She pulled him against her and kissed him again.
This time his mouth opened against hers and somehow, he was in charge. His tongue thrust like hot, wet velvet into her mouth, filling her with the spicy taste of him. At the same time, he grasped her shoulders and turned her so she lay back against the cushions, all without breaking the kiss. Her tongue was pushing against his, sliding into his mouth, rubbing against the sharpness of his teeth.
A hunger awoke inside her she hadn’t known existed and suddenly they were pressed together, the hard length of him scalding hot against her. A pulse frantically beat between her thighs, breasts swelling against the lace of her bra, until everything felt tight, constricted. She needed out of her clothes. Right now.
She needed his naked flesh against her more than she needed her next breath.
She recognized the hard jut of an erection pressing into her, and she rubbed against it instinctively. He went utterly still and a low growl sounded in his throat.
And deep inside her mind, Thing woke and answered.
Julia’s eyes flashed open. Panic flared, and she flattened her hands against his chest and pushed.
“Bastian. Back off.” Her tone was tinged with panic, but sharp claws were scrabbling at her belly, raking her flesh. He must have recognized it, because he eased away, his hands coming up in front of him as though to ward her off. And who could blame him.
She’d nearly assaulted the poor man. The man who’d only seconds earlier told her he wasn’t interested in sex and just wanted to be friends.
He pushed himself to his feet and adjusted his pants, where the bulge of what appeared to be a truly impressive erection pressed at his fly. Thing growled again, and Julia forced her gaze away. Clamping her eyes closed, she ran a calming mantra through her mind. Daniel had taught it to her as a way to keep Thing quiet on the day of the full moon.
But the full moon was past, so what was going on?
“God, Julia, I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes flashed open. Bastian was pacing the room but came back to stare down at her, his gaze fixed on her middle. She peeked down. Somehow, her lovely fluffy pink sweater had ridden up, exposing vast amounts of skin. Her nipples were poking visibly through the material.
She forced herself to sit up. No big deal. Just a kiss. And Thing waking up. When Thing had no right to be awake.
Julia shook her head.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Of course. It was only a kiss, and it was my fault. I kissed you, and right after you told me you weren’t interested in sex. I guess I can’t resist a challenge. You’re lucky I came to my senses and didn’t take total advantage of you.” She was babbling again, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to stop anything else falling out.
He handed her a glass of wine. After draining it in one go, she jumped to her feet. “Well, like I said, welcome to the neighborhood.”
He frowned. “Does this mean we can’t be friends?”
“Of course not. Of course we can be friends.” She searched her mind for something that friends did that didn’t involve getting sweaty and naked and… A crowd was what she needed. Somewhere with lots of people. “How about a movie? You can pick what we go and see.”
He nodded slowly, and she was pretty sure that was relief on his face.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Good.” She put down her glass and rubbed her hands down the side of her jeans. “Now I’d better leave you to get on with…whatever you’re doing this evening. I really have to…” Go take a cold shower.
He led the way into the hall and opened the front door for her. She risked a quick peek into his face as she passed, and then couldn’t resist dropping her gaze to his groin. Yeah, that huge erection was still there and all the muscles in her stomach contracted.
What a waste.
When she glanced up, his lips twitched. “Well, at least I know it still works. Don’t worry. It’s no big deal. Thanks for the wine, and I’ll get the tickets. Wednesday night okay?”
She nodded but didn’t trust herself to say anything intelligent and so turned and walked out. He watched her all the way to her own front door. She fumbled with the lock, finally stumbled into her hall, and slammed the door.
“Holy freaking crap.”
…
Shit, his dick was about to burst out of his pants.
You want to do something about that?
The words sounded in his head.
Dante was awake. He’d been quiet since Bastian had accepted the wager. He supposed it was too good to last.
“Stay out of my mind,” he muttered.
I wish I could…really. But for the moment, we’re stuck with each other.
“Well, keep quiet.” But at least his erection subsided.
You know the wager was—she has to say I love you. “Pity sex” doesn’t count.
“Pity sex?”
She felt sorry for you. She might shag you for that, but she’ll never fall in love with an object of pity.
Bastian didn’t agree. He reckoned he’d found the key to unlocking her heart. He went back to the sitting room and pulled a bottle of scotch from the cabinet. He didn’t bother with a glass, just unscrewed the cap, took a gulp, then flung himself on the sofa, the bottle still clasped in his hand.
Yup, he reckoned it was official. Julia Melville was a good woman. She was also light and frivolous and hopefully shallow, though that might be wishful thinking on his part. He would make her fall in love with him and right after she said the all-important “I love you,” he would walk out of her life. Because he wasn’t a good man. And afterward, she would move on to the next man…or woman.
But he could still taste her on his lips, on his tongue, and his dick jerked again. Inside, he heard the echo of a chuckle.
She’d been so soft. God, he’d wanted to loose himself in that softness, bury himself so deep. Somehow remember that there were good things, good people in this world. Forget for a little while that he wasn’t one of them.
I prefer Melanie myself.
“Fuck off.”
Chapter Five
Julia flung open her wardrobe door and inspected the contents.
What did you wear for a date that wasn’t quite a date? With a man who wanted to be your friend, whom you wanted to jump but keep an emotional distance from?
The movies on Wednesday had been great, though she hadn’t paid much attention to the film. They’d laughed at the same places, although usually seconds after the rest of the audience, as though they were both trying too hard. She’d found it near impossible to concentrate with Bastian—even his name was sexy—so close. His long jean-clad thigh almost touching hers.
She’d bought a big tub of toffee popcorn and eaten the whole thing herself. Bastian didn’t have a sweet tooth apparently.
Afterward, he’d walked her to her door, waited while she went inside, and made absolutely no attempt to kiss her good night.
And why would he? He needed a friend, not some crazy bitch who fantasized about doggy sex with him.
Now it was Friday night and they were going for pizza because that’s the sort of things friends did. So why couldn’t she decide what to wear?
She was aiming for casual sexy, as if she’d dressed for a friend, but the friend wouldn’t be able to look at her without thinking sex.
At least Thing had been quiet. Julia hadn’t heard a sound from her since she’d interrupted the kiss. Which was good because if Thing really wanted a new name, then she’d better stop poking her nose in where she wasn’t wanted. Now, nearly a week after full moon, Julia was hopeful she would stay quiet until the next one. Which she refused to think about right now.
The doorbell rang. It was too early for B
astian, and she tightened the robe around herself and took the stairs at a run. Peering through the peephole, she found Lissa standing on the doorstep, a bottle of champagne in her hands.
They were celebrating. But celebrating what?
She pulled open the door, glanced sideways at Bastian’s place, and pulled Lissa through. “Why didn’t you use your key?” she asked.
Lissa grinned. “I didn’t want to in case I interrupted something.”
“Not much chance of that,” she muttered.
“Why? Hasn’t Mr. Hot-Next-Door-Neighbor been back?”
“We saw a movie on Wednesday, and we’re going for a pizza tonight.”
“Hmmm, not very romantic.”
“No. He doesn’t want romance. And neither do I. He wants a friend, and I want sex.” She groaned as sexy, naked images flashed up in her mind.
Lissa laughed. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get him to comply. Is he imminent, or do we have time…?” She lifted the bottle of champagne and waved it in Julia’s direction.
“We have time.” Besides, she would have made time. She wanted to know what Lissa was celebrating and she wasn’t leaving the house until her friend spilled. “So where’s Daniel tonight?” she asked as she led the way into the sitting room.
“He’s gone to some fight.”
“Really. That doesn’t sound like Daniel.”
“It’s something to do with the pack. Something, Ethan set up before—”
“Before Daniel killed him and the rest of the guys and gals ate him. Okay, don’t spoil my Friday night. I don’t need to know any more.” She got a couple of champagne flutes from the cabinet. “So what are we celebrating?” she asked.
Lissa was struggling with the cork, which didn’t want to budge, so Julia took the bottle from her and pulled it out with ease.
“My, how strong you are, Grandma.”
“Yeah, and what big teeth.” She’d never actually tested her new strength, hadn’t wanted any more evidence of exactly how screwed up she was, but she supposed it had its uses. She poured the champagne and held out a glass to Lissa.