The Dare Collection: March 2018. Nicola Marsh

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       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      Tanner

      ‘THIS IS CATEGORICALLY the best pasta I’ve ever tasted.’ I pushed away my empty plate with a contented sigh. ‘You’re an amazing cook.’

      Abby flushed, her cheeks glowing the same pretty pink they did after sex. ‘Bet you say that to all the girls.’

      ‘Only the ones who give me great head before serving up a meal like this.’

      She blushed harder but her eyes glittered with triumph, like I’d paid her the best compliment ever. ‘I’m glad you liked it,’ she said, her tone demure but those damn eyes, big and blue and defiant, alerting me to the fact she wasn’t just talking about the pasta.

      I liked this side of her. Bold and confident. Taunting and teasing. Allowing her inner flirt to come out and play when I had a feeling she’d rarely done that before.

      To think, I’d been the lucky bastard to be on the receiving end of her first blowjob. What kind of a putz had her ex been, a frigging eunuch? How had he not wanted to experience everything with this incredible woman?

      Me, I wanted it all. I’d have it all. Taking her on an erotic journey she’d never forget.

      I’d wanted to go down on her at the door, return the favour. But she’d sauntered off, citing the food was getting cold, and that we’d have plenty of time for that later.

      I’d agreed because it heightened anticipation. And I hadn’t been able to think straight with my mind reeling from the impact of coming in her mouth. I’d been hard throughout dinner and, while I hadn’t lied about this being the best damn pasta I’d ever eaten, I wanted to eat her.

      ‘Have you spoken with Remy today?’

      Just like that, she doused my libido like she’d dumped cold water over me.

      ‘Yeah, the docs are pleased with his progress, but he’s itching to get back here.’

      ‘Probably doesn’t trust us,’ she said, her lips curving in a mischievous smile. ‘Considering what we’ve been up to, I guess he’s right.’

      ‘I’m going to visit him tomorrow.’

      After what had happened in the storeroom, I’d already made up my mind to come clean. I couldn’t lie to Remy. Anyone but him.

      Then again, I’d been doing it to him for most of our lives. Before Mum had died, she’d been a buffer between Dad and me, so I’d only been exposed to his hatred a few times. But after she’d died and Dad’s guilt and anger had coalesced into a hard ball of rage against me, I’d had to lie to Remy on the rare times I saw him at home.

      I remembered those nights vividly, when he’d come home late after putting in extra hours at a bakery and have a mountain of homework to get through too. He’d ask how was my day, was I doing okay at school, then grab a snack and head into his room. He always bought my trite responses that everything was fine. If he’d picked up something was amiss, he probably put it down to me missing Mum.

      He never, ever suspected the awful truth and I kept it that way. Remy was a good guy and I didn’t want him feeling bad, even after the old bastard had curled up his toes and done us all a favour.

      Something in my tone must’ve alerted her to my thoughts, because her smile faded. ‘Are you going to tell him about us?’

      I bit back my first response, ‘there is no us’, because that would irrevocably hurt her. Besides, there was an ‘us’ of sorts, even if labelling our insatiable craving for sex with each other was ‘us’.

      I nodded. ‘He’ll know if he asks me about you, which he will, and takes one look at my face.’ I clasped my fingers in my lap to stop from fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kinda goofy when it comes to you.’

      Her smile softened the lines of concern bracketing her mouth. ‘You know we’re both consenting adults and what we do in our leisure time has nothing to do with him?’

      ‘I know, but I don’t like hiding something this important from him.’

      Damn, it’d been the wrong thing to say, because she’d interpret me as saying our relationship was important when in fact I’d meant our involvement, being Remy’s brother and protégé, would be important to him. Yeah, that was what I’d meant. Right?

      Thankfully, Abby didn’t call me on it. ‘If you two are that close, how come you haven’t been around much the last year?’

      ‘I travel a lot for work. Acting as a consultant for new clubs around the world takes time.’

      It was a trite answer, a vague answer, and we both knew it.

      ‘If you need to tell him, tell him,’ she said, with a shrug. ‘As long as he doesn’t give you or me grief when it ends.’

      I knew we had an expiration date. I was counting on it. I would never have started anything unless Abby knew it too. So why did the pasta feel like it had wedged in my chest, giving me a bad case of heartburn?

      I pushed back from the table a little, clamping down on the urge to bolt while I still could. ‘None of his business and as you said we’re both consenting adults, so when this ends it won’t be messy.’

      I didn’t buy her bright, fake smile for a second.

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