Bad Boys Southern Style. JoAnn Ross

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Yet, invariably things between a man and a woman get complicated. Especially once sex gets added into the mix.”

      “Are you telling me you’re not in the market for sex, either?”

      She tilted her head. Studied him. It would be a little hard to claim that now. Without seeming like the world’s worst prick-tease, but she had to ask. “Would if make a difference if I wasn’t?”

      “Like you said, sex always makes a difference.”

      He retrieved his hand, took a long drink of water, and eyed her thoughtfully over the rim of the crystal goblet.

      “But I’ve moved beyond thinking with my glands. At least I thought I had until you climbed out of that limo. You are the most stunning woman I’ve seen in I don’t know how long, you smell fabulous, and”—his appraising gaze skimmed over her—“until you decided to have this rules discussion, I was about ten seconds away from biting your thigh. And that was just for starters.

      “But even if we back away from what we’re both feeling, I’d honestly like to hear your take on Morganna. Maybe get some background on this witch business you’ve got going.”

      “Hex Appeal.”

      “That’s it.” When he smiled again, she had to restrain herself from nipping at his square, manly chin.

      “The thing is,” she said, trying to keep her mind on what she needed to say, “as much as I like you, cher, inevitably relationships get fucked up.”

      “Maybe you’ve just gotten involved with the wrong men.”

      “That’s been true enough. On occasion.”

      God, could she screw things up any more? She’d come here tonight prepared to go to bed with him. There was nothing wrong, to her mind, about wanting to scratch an itch without having to deal with the time and energy of a committed relationship. So why in hell was she insisting on talking it to death when what they should be doing was fucking each other’s brains out?

      “But it wouldn’t matter if you were Prince Charming in the flesh and the sex between us was gold medal, world class—”

      “Which it’s going to be,” he promised with sublime self-confidence.

      She couldn’t argue that. The sexual vibrations between them were so strong she was surprised this entire building wasn’t in meltdown.

      “All the more reason to agree to call a halt afterwards. Before we get to that pissed-off point.”

      “So, are you saying you’re only into one-night stands?”

      “Of course not. I mean, I’ve nothing against them, and they can certainly be pleasant—”

      “If we end tonight with you even thinking the word pleasant, I sure as hell won’t have done my job.”

      She felt herself shudder. Knew he’d seen the involuntary response by the satisfied gleam in his gaze.

      “What I meant,” she said, as his hands cupped her breasts and began plumping her nipples, “was I believe they can be…very…oh God…empowering.”

      “You know, I’d applaud that idea.” He tugged the dress down, exposing the black lace bustier she’d bought this morning with him in mind. “But my hands just happen to be a little busy at the moment.”

      As if to back up his words, he caught one erect nipple between his thumb and index finger and squeezed. Hard. She gasped at the stab of pain/pleasure, but rather than back away from the stinging touch, she arched her back, inviting more.

      Much, much more.

      “The waiter,” she remembered reluctantly.

      “Isn’t going to come down here unless I call him.” He bent his head and soothed the tingling flesh with his tongue.

      Her hands felt inordinately heavy as they lifted to comb through his hair. “You planned this.” Her head fell back. “All along.”

      Roxi wondered if Emma had known about Sloan’s intentions.

      “Let’s just say I was hopeful.” He drew the nipple into his mouth with a deep, wet suction that caused her pulse to beat painfully in that hot and liquid place between her thighs. “I’m also going to tell you, darlin’, that female empowerment aside, one night with your sweet body isn’t going to be nearly enough.”

      She had the same feeling. “That’s why I have my three-date rule,” she gasped as his teeth closed down on the flesh his tongue had tormented.

      His breath was a hot breeze against her breast as he sighed. And drew his head back.

      “I’m getting the feeling this isn’t about that witchy Rule of Three that states three times what thou givest returns to thee.”

      She was surprised he knew about that, then remembered she was here tonight because he really had read the Morganna books. “No, not that one.” Though she not only believed it, but practiced it.

      “Nor the usual female one about putting off sex until the third date.”

      He was now openly frustrated. Roxi suspected he wasn’t accustomed to a woman setting the rules. Especially when it came to sex.

      “Actually, it’s just the opposite. I never go out with a man after the third date.”

      “Seems that would be a bit limiting.”

      “Perhaps.” And one problem she was just discovering was that she couldn’t imagine wanting any limits where Sloan Hawthorne was concerned. “But the problem is that after three dates it’s possible that someone’s going to start feeling something—”

      “I’m feeling something already.” He leaned back in the wooden chair and spread his legs, revealing the thick weight of his erection thrusting against the zippered placket of his slacks.

      “Come here.” His patted his knee, his green eyes glittering with a masculine sexual challenge.

      Nine

      Roxi lifted her chin. “I’m not a dog you can call whenever you want attention.”

      A rough, harsh laugh burst out of him. “Sweetheart, that’s one word that no one would ever use to describe you. But, you know, now that you mention it, tonight you’re going to play my sweet, obedient pet.”

      “You make it sound as if I have nothing to say about it.”

      “So far, you’ve been setting all the rules,” he reminded her mildly. “But here’s one from my side of the negotiating table. If we’re only going to have three fuck dates, tonight’s will be on my terms.” His penetrating gaze narrowed, burning into hers. “My rules.”

      She’d never been into submission. Which was, she admitted, why she’d also chosen men who were more willing to be led. Men who were, well, malleable. Controllable.

      There was nothing the least bit malleable СКАЧАТЬ