Utterly entranced, I felt myself nod.
"That's not my style."
I wasn't following. "What's not your style? You mean like quickies with fans?"
That look in his eye was still there. Very slowly and deliberately, he said, "I don't do quickies."
Oh, wow.My pulse quickened. Ireallyliked the way he'd just said that. And I actually believed him, too. Still, I was curious. "And what about the fan part?"
"Starfuckers?" he said. "Not my thing."
This, I also believed. During the book tour, I'd seen the way women looked at him –andthe way they propositioned him. Sometimes they were subtle, hinting that they'd love to show him around,personally. Other times, they weren't so subtle, whispering things in his ear that I could only imagine.
It was funny in a way. I was a huge fan of his work, and I'd done my share of drooling over him. But I never would've jumped in bed with a total stranger regardless of who they were or what they did.
But now, I simply had to know. "So crazed fans, huh? Am I in that category?"
"You?" Slowly, and without breaking eye-contact, he shook his head. "You're in a category all your own."
Chapter 42
Jack
I wasn't just a cad. I was a bastard – because when her lips parted, and she leaned closer, I didn't stop myself.
Instead, I pulled her close and kissed her like I meant it.
And I did mean it.Somehow, she'd managed to burrow under my skin, itching and scratching, tempting and teasing, warming and willing, whether she realized it or not.
I was done trying to hide it.
Her lips were sweet and warm. Her body was small and tight. Her sounds, light and muffled, were music to my ears. My cock was so hard, I wanted to take her right here and now.
Still, I wasn't so big of a bastard that I wouldn't give her the chance to rethink it.
Me?I'd been thinking of her all day, watching as she worked the line of people – smiling and talking like she knew them personally.
She had a good heart and a contagious smile. She had a way of making people feel comfortable, whether they were eight or eighty.No pretense. No games. No pretending to be something she wasn't.
She was a real girl in the real world – and yet, so different from anyone I'd ever met, especially lately.
And I loved the way she looked. Her ass – it had looked so sweet in that little black skirt, the one she was still wearing. I wanted to yank it up around her waist and explore her body like I'd been doing in my thoughts.
And then, I wanted to make her mine.
But not here.And not without giving her some time to catch her breath.
I pulled back and said, "You realize what you're doing, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm your boss. And your brother's best friend."
Her skin was rosy, and her voice was breathless when she said, "I don't have a brother."
"You know who I mean – Flynn. And your sister. They might not like it."
"I don't care," she said. "Do you?"
