Dating the Rebel

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Dating the Rebel Page 6

by Lisa Childs


  Teo’s voice emanated from the cell. “Sounds like somebody needs to get laid.”

  Grant had been laid—more than once. And it had been the best sex of his life, which said a hell of a lot to Grant. But even though he’d had the most mind-blowing orgasms he’d ever had, his body was all tense and needy again. Needy for Miranda Fox.

  “Fuck you,” he called out to Teo.

  The other man’s chuckle rumbled out of the speaker. “I’m taken.”

  He was. And from what he’d overheard outside Miranda’s office, that and that interview was becoming a problem with her sisters and her business.

  He needed to make sure that didn’t become a problem for Blair. That Miranda didn’t become a problem for Blair and her billionaire...like she had for every other boyfriend Blair had had.

  “See you soon,” Blair said before finally ending her call. Then—unfortunately—she focused all her attention on Grant. “What happened to you? You look like hell.”

  Her friend had happened to him. But she didn’t seem to know. Maybe Miranda hadn’t called her.

  Maybe they didn’t share everything...

  “I see that you filed a flight plan to Monaco and then Ibiza,” she said.

  A twinge of unease passed through his heart. Had she checked it or had Miranda told her that?

  “I didn’t realize you were keeping track of me,” he said.

  “I was tracking down the plane you took,” she said. “To see when you’d be bringing it back.” She smiled. “I was hoping to use it.”

  At least she hadn’t called him. If she had heard Miranda’s voice...

  “I didn’t think I’d have it that long,” he admitted. His plan had been to issue a quick warning to Miranda not to mess with Blair’s happiness, but then...

  “My plan changed,” he continued.

  “While you were gambling in Monaco, you heard about a game on Ibiza,” she said, as if she knew him so well.

  She didn’t know him at all.

  Neither did Miranda...

  “From how bad you look, it must have been an all-night game,” she said.

  He hadn’t changed out of his wrinkled dress pants and shirt. And since he’d just landed in London, he hadn’t had time to go back to his house to change yet, either.

  “And it doesn’t look like you were all that lucky, either,” Blair remarked with a teasing smile.

  He had gotten lucky—with orgasm after orgasm—hers and his. But somehow Miranda thought she won.

  Since he’d forgotten his mission about warning her away from his sister, she had gotten the upper hand for a while. But last night had only been the first hand in a long game.

  He wasn’t done playing with Miranda Fox.

  Not yet.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHATEVER GAME HE’D been playing with her must have bored him, because Grant hadn’t called her. Hadn’t texted or emailed.

  He hadn’t tried, since that morning a few days ago when he’d dropped her off at her apartment, to see her again. Not that he’d really wanted to see her. He wanted to join Liaisons International so he could see other women. Apparently she hadn’t been enough for him that night.

  Maybe no one woman would ever satisfy a man like Grant Snyder—a man who liked the gamble over the safe bet. Not that she was a safe bet...

  Miranda was never going to fall in love and settle down. Or settle, which was what her mother had always done. That was why she’d chosen to buy her mother out of the business. She wanted to make sure that people found someone with whom they were truly compatible.

  Like Blair and Teo...

  That was what she’d tried explaining to some of the irate female members who’d called to complain that they hadn’t been set up on dates with him. “You weren’t compatible.”

  “Anybody is compatible with money.”

  That was why she’d set up Teo with Blair—because she knew her friend would see the billionaire for more than his money. That if she fell for him, it would be despite his wealth, not because of it.

  Miranda wished she could blame the tension gripping her on the business, but she knew why she was so damn tense that she felt she might snap any moment.

  Grant.

  Because she’d been so edgy the past couple of days, she’d sent Tabitha home early this Friday. She hadn’t wanted to snap at her sister—especially when Tabitha had worked so hard this week with all the calls they’d received.

  But despite how busy she’d been, Tabitha had still had time to keep asking her about Grant.

  “Is he a good kisser?”

  “What does he look like naked?”

  “How big is he?”

  Miranda had learned young how to lie and get away with it. So she hadn’t truthfully answered her sister. If she had, she would have only needed one word: spectacular.

  He’d been spectacular at everything.

  Instead she’d told her, “Do you really think that I would sleep with Grant Snyder when all he wants is to join our dating service? He doesn’t want me. He wants other women. Probably rich women...”

  Since that was what everybody calling wanted—a wealthy person to date.

  Tabitha had believed her—too easily—which made her feel stupid. “Of course,” her sister had said. “He wants a female Teo to support his gambling, no doubt. You were smart to not get involved with him.”

  She was smart.

  Usually...

  But her decades-long crush on Grant Snyder had made her a stupid little girl again. She hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of finally living out her fantasy.

  Maybe that was all it had been. Maybe that was why he hadn’t called or texted or emailed. Maybe it had never really happened and she’d dreamed the whole night.

  But her imagination wasn’t that vivid; she couldn’t have just imagined how incredible he had made her feel. How much pleasure he’d given her...

  The release...

  She needed that now, so badly.

  Tabitha was gone now. She was safe. But anyone else who walked in the door or called might get subjected to her tension. She had no patience left.

  If she didn’t get a release again soon...

  She knew that she might do something incredibly stupid...like call Grant. Or something almost as stupid as that and call Blair.

  She’d been tempted to contact her friend and find out what Grant had really been up to, if he’d ever mentioned wanting to join the dating service. But her friend knew her too well.

  If she mentioned Grant at all to his sister, she would give herself up. Blair would know that they’d crossed the line from old enemies to new lovers.

  No. They weren’t lovers.

  They’d just had sex one night. And that was all that could ever happen between them.

  She couldn’t call him. So she needed to take care of herself. That was why she’d slipped her vibrator into her big purse.

  She turned around her chair so that she faced the credenza underneath her office window. She opened the door behind which she stashed her purse. Instead of pulling it out, she reached inside and felt around for her special friend—the one that kept her from getting as damn desperate as her mother had always been for a man.

  When Tabitha had left, she’d told her to lock the door, so she wouldn’t be interrupted. But she’d just closed her fingers around the hard length of rubber and plastic and rechargeable batteries when hinges creaked. With the make-believe cock firmly in her grasp, she froze.

  Damn it!

  Tabitha could not even follow the simple directions to lock the door on her way out. Hopefully the actress’s agent would call her soon with an audition—one back in the US or London. A twinge of guilt struck her that she automatically assumed that her sister hadn’t locked the door. Maybe she had come back to the office or Regina
had stopped in.

  It was all the tension making her jump to conclusions. Tension she needed to relieve...

  Tension that Grant, and his ability to give her orgasm after orgasm, had caused more so than even the business.

  “Tabitha?” she called out. “Are you back?”

  No one answered. And Tabitha was too chatty not to; it was her other sister who’d been giving her the silent treatment since Teo’s interview.

  “Regina?” she asked.

  Not wanting her judgmental sister to catch her with the vibrator, she dropped it back in her purse, closed the credenza and spun her chair around to find her office door open. A jolt struck her heart, and she gasped.

  Neither of her sisters stood in the doorway. As if he’d been there awhile, Grant leaned indolently against the jamb. He wore faded jeans and a black T-shirt that was just a little too tight. The cotton molded to the impressive muscles of his chest, the sight of which made her mouth begin to water.

  She swallowed down the sudden rush of saliva and cleared her throat before asking, “What are you doing here?”

  Me. She wanted him to do her. Now. On the desk. Or the credenza. Or even the floor.

  She didn’t care. She just wanted him. Anywhere...

  “I want a second chance with you,” he said.

  Her heart flipped with hope. He did want her.

  “I want another audition to show you that I can be the perfect date,” he continued.

  Her shoulders slumped with defeat as he dashed her hope. He was still more interested in dating other women than in dating her.

  “Why would I do that?” she asked when seeing him now, looking so damn good, made it nearly impossible for her to keep her hands off him.

  “I based that first date on the Miranda from all those years ago,” he said. “I want to base this one on the Miranda I know now.”

  “You don’t know me, Grant,” she said. “And you didn’t know me years ago, either.” He had never made the effort to do anything besides threaten and warn her away from corrupting his sister.

  She almost wished that was what he was up to now. But surely he would have done it already if that had been his purpose.

  * * *

  She was right. Not that he would admit that to her, though. He’d thought he’d known her, but until that night...

  Until she’d blown his mind—and other parts of his body—like she had, he’d had no damn idea how passionate she was. What an incredible lover.

  He wanted her again—so damn badly. But that had been his mistake. Taking things too fast...

  He needed to slow down, to really seduce her into falling for him. That was what he needed her to do now, so that she would agree to whatever he wanted. Like leaving Blair and Teo alone so they could cement their relationship even more. But he also wanted her to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Like now...

  He wanted to jerk her onto the top of her desk and take her there. Or on the credenza...

  Or even the floor.

  She looked so damn beautiful. Her suit jacket was draped over the back of her chair, so she wore only a thin blue chemise with the skirt from the navy blue suit. The desk with the spindly legs revealed her shapely legs—that she hadn’t crossed since spinning her chair toward the door. He wanted to crawl under that desk and pleasure her like he had in the hotel room. He wanted to taste her desire for him.

  But he also had to learn from the mistake he’d already made with her. So he drew in a deep breath and summoned all his control—even as he acted as if he was totally relaxed and carefree.

  He cared too much about getting a second chance with her. “So let me get to know you,” he told her. And he was intrigued with her—more so than he’d ever been with any other woman. He wanted to get to know her better.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “You’ve been my sister’s best friend forever—”

  “So you should already know me,” she said.

  She was right. He should.

  He’d thought he did, but now...he wasn’t so sure. She was different than he’d thought she was—harder working, more serious and definitely a hell of a lot more sexual.

  “Then our getting to know each other better is long overdue,” he said. “Although I certainly know more about you than I did before.” Like how she kissed and what she tasted like and how easy it was to make her come.

  She leaned back in her chair and sighed. And he knew he was getting to her.

  “Blair would be happy to know that we’re getting to know each other,” he persisted.

  She snorted. “I doubt that. Did you tell her about Ibiza?”

  He shook his head. “I thought you would.”

  Her pale blue eyes widened with shock. “What? Hell, no.”

  “You think she would be upset?” he asked and admitted, “I think she would be...” Because she would want to know the truth of what he was up to.

  “She’s wanted me for a sister for so long that I would be more worried about her planning our wedding,” Miranda replied with a shudder of revulsion.

  He should have been relieved that she wasn’t as marriage-obsessed as her mother had been, but a little twinge struck his chest. She’d probably just pricked his pride again, because he sure as hell didn’t want to get married.

  He was probably even more averse to it than she was. If he hadn’t had his parents’ example of an unhappy marriage, he would have had plenty to pick from among the friends he’d made in the service and in the world of professional gambling.

  Neither was a lifestyle that fostered healthy relationships, though. Which was probably partly why he’d chosen those careers. Or had they chosen him?

  “Did the thought of marrying me scare you into leaving me alone?” Miranda asked him.

  Realizing he’d fallen silent, he chuckled. “I don’t scare that easily.” Unfortunately neither did she, though, or she would have heeded one of his many, many threats to leave his sister alone before now.

  “I don’t, either!” she said, her voice sharp with defensiveness. Her body was tense, too, as if she was on edge.

  Was she as sexually frustrated as he was? He doubted it. She could have called up any other guy to satisfy her. He only wanted her for some reason.

  Maybe the novelty of it all? Once they had another night together, he would get over her. He would realize she wasn’t any more special than any other lover he’d had.

  But first he had to get her to give him another chance. So he goaded her, “You sure seem scared to me, or you’d let me take you out again.”

  She shook her head.

  “Chicken,” he teased. “But then, if I was you, I guess I’d be scared, too, that I would fall for me.”

  Now she laughed. “And you wonder why I won’t let you join the service...”

  “I do wonder,” he said.

  “You’re an arrogant smart-ass.”

  “Yeah?”

  She laughed again before spinning her chair around. She pulled her purse from the credenza then stood up and turned toward him. “Okay,” she said with a sigh of resignation.

  “Okay?” He tensed. “You’re letting me join?” That really wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her.

  She shook her head. “I’m giving you another audition. Prove to me that you can be the perfect date.” Her eyes sparkled with the challenge that she obviously thought he would fail.

  She might have won the first hand, but he was taking this one and the whole damn game.

  CHAPTER NINE

  HOW THE HELL had he done it? He’d found the perfect rooftop restaurant from which to watch the sunset over the water. He’d found the perfect bottle of wine, a sauvignon blanc chilled and crisp.

  And the food...

  Soft mozzarella sprinkled with fresh basil-covered sweet slices of tomatoes. Chick
en and shrimp followed with creamy risotto and truffles.

  And just when she’d thought she was too full to eat another bite, the waiter brought out white-and dark-chocolate-dipped strawberries and champagne.

  Grant lifted his flute and clinked it against her glass. “To the perfect date...”

  He was smug. He knew.

  And she was too happy to lie. So, the bubbles bursting on her tongue, she sighed in ecstasy and nodded in agreement. But she didn’t let him take all the credit. “Who helped you?” she asked. “Blair?”

  “I already told you that I haven’t said anything to her about us.”

  So that left her sisters. Regina wouldn’t have helped him, but Tabitha was as hopeless a romantic as their lovesick mother. “My backstabbing receptionist...” she murmured. Tabitha had to have been the one who’d let him into the office, too.

  She didn’t know whether to be furious with her sister or grateful to her.

  “She was being helpful,” Grant defended his coconspirator. “She said you’ve been really stressed out and needed a good, relaxing evening.”

  She knew what would help most with the stress, and it wasn’t food or wine. It was him. Just him.

  But dare she bring him home with her? All having sex with him had done was make her want him more. But remembering the pleasure he’d given her, the toe-curling release that she needed...

  She knew it was worth the risk, even if tonight was only half as good as the other night with him had been.

  She drained her flute of champagne and said, “The evening’s not over.”

  He arched a brow. “What are you saying?”

  “That you’re coming home with me.”

  * * *

  He’d planned on kissing her outside the door to the lobby of her apartment building. That was all Grant had allowed himself to count on this evening.

  Good food. Good wine. Fun conversation.

  And a wistful, longing kiss good-night.

  Hell, he hadn’t even counted on that; he knew all too well how stubborn she could be.

 

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