One Night of Trouble (After Hours #3)

“Oh, do I?” she mocked.

“Don’t play games, angel. We both know it’s true.” He paused. “Your dad is giving you an answer at the end of the month, right?”

She nodded warily.

“That gives us three and a half weeks to keep doing what we’re doing.” There was no mistaking the reckless glint in his eyes.

“And what exactly are we doing?”

“Having fun. Making each other come.”

She ignored the hot shiver that traveled up her spine. “And then what?”

“Then your dad gives you the manager job, you tell your family we broke up, and we go our separate ways.”

Biting her lip, Brett mulled over what was beginning to sound like a solid plan—especially the sex part. Three more weeks of super-sexy naked time with this man? Sign her up.

But the idea held more than just sexual merit. If she said yes, then she’d be “dating” a guy that screamed wholesome and responsible, which was a surefire way to show her family she’d changed.

“It’s not a bad idea,” she admitted.

AJ looked smug. “Told ya.”

“As long as we’re both clear that this won’t be a real relationship,” she said quickly. “I’m not looking to get seriously involved with anyone right now, and once I have my own tattoo parlor to run, I won’t have time for a relationship at all.” She chewed on her lip, still deep in thought. “But I probably don’t have to worry about this being anything more than a fling, right? I mean, I know where I stand, and you…well, I’m pretty sure I’m not your type, anyway…so…”

“Trust me, I don’t have time for a relationship, either.” His face took on a shuttered expression. “It’ll be a pretend relationship.”

That he didn’t correct her assumption about not being his type kind of stung. It shouldn’t, though. Of course he wouldn’t view her as girlfriend material. She was scrawny and covered in tattoos and the furthest thing from meek. A man like AJ belonged with some sweet, docile thing who’d bake him cookies and rub his feet, not an ex-bad-girl tattoo artist with a chip on her shoulder.

“The sex, though…that won’t be pretend at all.” AJ’s voice became downright sensual. “Because there’s no way I can spend three weeks with you and not put my hands all over that sexy-ass body.”

The saliva in her mouth turned to sawdust. “I’d kill you if you didn’t put your hands on me.”

“Threatening me with murder, huh? And last night you threatened to lock me in your closet.” He arched a brow. “For such a teeny little thing, you’ve got some pretty violent tendencies.”

“Like I said, I’m tougher than I look.” She pursed her lips. “So it’s official then? You’ll be my pretend boyfriend?”

“Yup.” He grinned. “Provided I’m well compensated.”

“I already said I’d sleep with you again,” she grumbled. “And you didn’t even have to twist my arm.”

“That’s not all I want.”

Brett’s guard shot up, especially when she saw the intensity hardening his chiseled features. “What else, then?”

“I want you to show me a wild time.”

The demand triggered a jolt of uneasiness. “I told you, I don’t party anymore,” she said firmly.

“I don’t want to party. I just want to have some fun.” Something she couldn’t decipher flickered through his expression. “All I ever do is follow the rules.” He shrugged. “I’m in the mood to break some.”

Hunger, she realized. It was hunger flashing in his eyes. And seeing it only heightened her reluctance. “I’m not sure I can help you with that.”

His hand was on her cheek again, but not gentle this time. Rough fingertips did a seductive sweep over her skin, grazing her bottom lip. “I’m not asking you to snort coke or streak through Boston Common with me. I just want… Hell, I just want to be the man I was last night. The man I was with you.”

Some of her caginess dissipated. “You mean, the man who bossed me around and gave me the best orgasms of my life?” A tiny smile broke free. “If that’s all you want, then I think I can get on board with that.”

With a pleased nod, he grasped her chin and brought her mouth to his.

The kiss was deep and forceful. Dominating. And just like last night, she was instantly sucked into his seductive spell, losing herself in the firmness of his lips and the greedy strokes of his tongue. Everything about this man drove her wild, from his heady masculine scent, to the scrape of his stubble on her cheek. She was addicted. Goddamn addicted.

Somehow, she managed to wrench her lips away, breathing hard as she recovered from that toe-curling kiss. “I have to get to work,” she told him. “I can’t be late.”

AJ swiftly rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. “What time are you done?”

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