The Dare Collection: April 2018. Stefanie London
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hi.’
His lip curled, eyes dancing. ‘A tepid greeting for an intimate acquaintance.’ His lips grazed her cheek, the cool formality grating on her nerves already stretched taut with indecision, confusion and the constant burn of need.
His lips hovered over her ear. ‘Have you already forgotten how it feels to come around my cock?’ His breath blasted the tiny hairs on her neck and then he leaned away, eyes sparking, and took a swig of beer. She glanced back to the dance floor. Phil, a head taller than most people, looked their way, his eyes narrowed even as he pressed up behind the woman he’d singled out for his attention.
Harley looked back to Jack, who gave no indication he’d seen her dancing with another man or that he cared one iota. Good. She wasn’t Phil’s. And she wasn’t Jack’s. She could dance with whomever she pleased. If only her libido understood.
‘Are you here with friends?’
He nodded once, his stare dipping to her chest and continuing down to her bare legs. ‘Alex and Libby. But perhaps I also stalked you here, like you stalked me to get what you wanted that first day.’
Did he? Did she care? Goose bumps snaked down her arms and she fought the urge to hug herself. Her nipples peaked, chafing on the gossamer fabric of her halter-top.
‘What do you want?’ Her voice carried a tremulous quality. Fear of his answer? Fear he’d ask her the same question?
He stared. The barest of shrugs. Then he clasped her fingers, his own cool and damp from the beer bottle.
‘I... I’m here with my sister. She’s celebrating.’ Why did she feel the need to explain herself? Why so unsure of this man she’d entrusted with her pleasure, her body? A man she allowed, no, begged, to push her boundaries, her a willing accomplice to their sexy game. A man she wasn’t certain she could trust, but wanted anyway. How messed up was that?
Another nod. His hand found her hip and he tugged her close, her body going willingly to slide along the length of his. Hannah and Phil danced only metres away, the Morris Building could be one big dud, her mind buzzed with secrets, doubts and humiliation that she’d let herself down one time too many, but she didn’t give a damn.
All that mattered was the warmth from his body, the curl of instant lust that sizzled up from her belly the moment she saw him and the frisson of uncontrollable need he inspired as easily as a quirk from his sinful mouth.
His lips glided over the skin below her ear, curling her toes.
‘I’m not the jealous type, ma belle. You either want me, want what I can give you, what we have together, or you don’t. Simple.’
So he had seen her dancing with Phil.
She shuddered, his warmth and spicy scent a combination more potent than the vodka she’d drunk. Was it simple? It should be. Just sex. Spectacular orgasms. No strings.
Why did her second-guessing his motives and doubting his integrity complicate everything? Why, after years of her shoving it to the back of her mind, did Hal’s indiscretion hover on the tip of her tongue every time she looked at Jack? Because she’d developed feelings beyond physical gratification?
‘There’s a reason you didn’t marry him.’
There were hundreds of reasons. Harley pulled away. ‘You knew I was engaged to Phil?’
He shrugged. ‘You’re an heiress. I saw the announcement.’ His fingers flexed at her waist. ‘What happened?’
Not one shred of envy marred his expression. If anything, he looked at her with hunger, as if he was seconds from kissing her, a look she’d grown accustomed to and a need reflected in her for anyone to see.
She sighed, Phil the last thing she wanted to talk about. But she had nothing to hide.
‘He...didn’t approve of me, said I wasted my birthright in pursuit of what he deemed a hobby.’
Jack’s eyes flicked to the dance floor, slivers of steel solidifying there. Then he was back with her, his lips brushing her temple.
‘I’m glad you saw through him, for your sake. A man who needs to put you down, one who couldn’t even get you off...not worth your time.’
‘How do you know he couldn’t get me off?’
He shrugged. ‘An educated guess. If he met your needs, you’d be happily married by now.’
She shuddered. ‘I was naïve. I never loved Phil. But part of me wanted to conform. And Hal approved.’ She shook her head at her own stupidity. She largely shared Jack’s cynicism about the marital state, at least for her. That didn’t mean she wasn’t sincere in her comments about his sister’s happiness. She’d learnt her lesson, both from Hal and Phil.
Ash’s words rang in her ears. Was she a good judge of character? Yes, she’d seen through Phil. She’d realised her relationship with him had been more about her relationship with her father and trying to please him.
But had she grown sloppy, or been mesmerised by her physical attraction to Jack and missed a crucial character flaw? Was he the kind of businessman who had more in common with Hal than she realised?
Her empire, her dyslexia school in particular, meant everything to her. But she’d walk away from their deal in a heartbeat if he’d deliberately deceived her. Especially if, as Ash suggested, he’d used her for some sort of revenge. She cringed. If he’d managed to dupe her because the documents and contracts pertaining to the Morris Building swam before her eyes and made her head hurt...
Or perhaps she’d put everything she’d built up in jeopardy with her constant challenges. Perhaps Hal was right. Was it time to stop messing around and return to the safety of the family fold?
Jack stepped closer, his erection grazing her thigh. Her limbs quivered as if she’d drunk more than she had, her nipples peaked through her top and chafed on his shirt and her sex clenched in anticipation. She swallowed, her eyes closing and her forehead leaning against his firm chest.
What was wrong with her? Doubting his integrity and professionalism one minute, about to claw at his clothes and ride him the next. Was the sex with Jack really that good? Good enough she couldn’t walk away if her business interests dictated their connection over? No regrets? If he’d lied to her, duped her...
She closed her eyes tight, the sexy beat of the music and the rhythmic swipes of Jack’s thumb on the bare skin of her waist lulling her into sensual waters. Unlike the forgettable Phil, everything this man did, said and was lured her there.
And she did want what they created together. Something she’d failed to find with anyone else. This searing connection, flammable chemistry, a forbidden addiction... Until she’d had chance to fully investigate Ash’s claim, could she really abandon it, abandon him again, so easily?
And while she hadn’t known Jack for the intervening nine years, the man she’d spent the day with yesterday—the same one who’d picked out tiny giraffe-printed romper suits and a cuddly snowy-white swan for his pregnant sister—she just couldn’t reconcile that man with one who orchestrated dodgy deals, professionally. Perhaps that made her stupid, an emotion she’d grown up with.
Jack’s lips grazed her temple and she opened her eyes.
‘You didn’t answer my texts.’ Not a question. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled. She leaned into him, following the slight sway of his body, which moved them in time with the sensual beat of the music in a dance of their own.
‘No.’ Why did swaying on the edge of the dance floor with this man feel a hundred times more intimate than anything she’d experienced with her ex-fiancé, a man she’d almost married? Harley looped her fingers into the belt loops on his jeans so their hips moved in unison. If she closed her eyes, kept this moment, her dancing with Jack, alive, she could avoid thinking about the doubts, both of him and herself, eating her away inside like acid.
Jack