A war played out on his face, and she hoped to God that she’d be the winner. “Is this what you thinking chatting is?”

“To an Englishman it is.”

“And what do you know of Englishmen?”

“Enough to know I’d like this particular Englishman to spend the night.” She pulled on the back of his neck, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I think it’s best if I went back to Christian’s.” His hand came up, stroking the side of her face, and she leaned into his touch.

“Stay with me,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his throat. She felt him tremble. Peering up at him, his face was a mixture of panic and desire.

“I know what you think you need, Daisy, but you’d regret it in the morning, and the last thing I ever want to see in your eyes is regret.”

Kissing his chin, she said, “Let me be the one to decide.”


Nipping his bottom lip, pulled it into her mouth and sucked. He groaned, his hands coming up to cup the back of her head. “This is wrong,” he said, but he opened the door to her apartment anyway and pulled her though with him.

The light on the table she kept in the foyer gave off just the right amount of light for her to see him. She kicked the door closed.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

“Only a kiss,” he murmured, dipping his head. “Nothing more.”

Their lips met, a slow pass of soft, warm flesh against one another. Her heart sped up, fast as hummingbird wings. Her hand slid down to press against his chest and she smiled. His heart beat faster than hers.

She teased the seam of his lips open, sliding her tongue inside to touch his. To taste him, like he had done to her so long ago. Slow, wet glides and soft nips of lips and teeth. Her body responded of its own accord, arching against him.

His fingers tightened in her hair, his free hand gliding down her back to cup her bottom. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice hoarse. Shaky.

“Just a little bit longer,” she coaxed and he slanted his mouth over hers, searching and wanting, and making her feel exactly how she wanted: desired, beautiful, and sexy.

Then his kisses turned light, concentrating on the corners of her mouth and the sides of her neck, causing shivers to race up and down her spine. Sebastian would stop soon, she knew this. She also knew she didn’t want him to stop.

Fumbling with the belt of her wrap dress, she undid the knot and shrugged out of the material, until she stood in nothing but heels and lacy panties. Normally she wore a bra, but tonight she hadn’t and for that she was grateful.


Sebastian pulled away as soon as her dressed pooled around the hand that still cupped her bum. He refused to look any lower than her gorgeous face.

“Stay,” she said again.

Hating and cursing himself, he replied, “I can’t.”

Her face paled a little. “Are you worried about the contract we have, because this has nothing to do with it.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “No.”

Glancing away from him, her cheeks heated, “At the risk of sounding desperate, I want you to stay with me tonight.” Then she looked at him, eyes all dark and vulnerable, mouth trembling. “I need you.”

Jules! I need you! God he wanted to help her, because she needed him as Sebastian. He wanted to stay, but the deception remained.

“My heart’s broken, Bastian,” she said, stepping closer to him. “Make me feel better.”

Still he didn’t look down. “You want to use me for sex?”

A bittersweet smile curved her lips. “Isn’t that every man’s fantasy?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to use me just for sex. I want you to—” He wanted her to love him, like he did her. This was killing him. He wanted her in the worst way possible, because she made him feel something and forget who he was all at once.

“To what?” She took his hand and placed it in the middle of her chest, just where her br**sts curved. If he moved even the smallest of distances to the right or left, he would touch her bare skin there, feel her bare nipple as it hardened against his palm.

He swallowed, desire rushing through him and knocking down every good intention of leaving her the hell alone tonight. “I want to make love to you, like you deserve.” He’d had fantasies about seducing her, with wine and candlelight. With charming conversations and witty sparring.

But that wasn’t him. He was blunt and no-nonsense. The worst kind of lover in his opinion.

Her mouth formed a little O. “Make love?” She made the words sound foreign. Maybe her relationship with Glen had been worse than he’d thought.

Running his knuckles across her cheek, he said, “Haven’t you ever been made love to? Did Glen ever touch you, kiss you and hold you like you were the most precious, sexiest creature ever made? That every part of him was meant to pleasure you, to make you forget everything, but the two of you together…joined in the most intimate of ways.”

A pink tongue darted out, licking her lip. “No,” she whispered.

“Ask me to do all of that, and I’ll stay the night.”

A heartbeat of hesitation and—“Make love to me, Bastian.”

He crushed her to him, lifting her up by her thighs as she wrapped her arms around him. He navigated his way to her bed and placed in her in the middle of it, settling his body on top of hers. He braced his elbows on either side of her as he simply gazed at the woman he loved and took in every little detail. The way her hair curled at the ends, the way her eyes were green and brown with tiny flecks of gold, the way her lips parted…the tiny freckle on her cheek. Her perfect for him br**sts with pink ni**les, the hour-glass curve of her waist, and the plump thighs that gave way to shapely legs.

His fantasy brought life by a deception he’d perpetrated, but he right now, at this moment, he refused to feel guilty.

“Why are you looking me like that?” she asked, starting up at him.

Because he would never get this moment back—the first time they made love. Maybe the only time. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Smiling, she ran her fingers down the side of his face. “So are you.”

He couldn’t help but smile back. He couldn’t help but kiss her, soft and sweet at first, then fastening his mouth to hers, he became hungry, greedy. He tasted, took and gave. He felt her hands on his shirt, her fingers undoing the buttons and a gasp of surprise.

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