Blame It on the Bikini

chapter NINE



MYA woke early, panic clanging louder than an electronic alarm plugged into subwoofer speakers. Warm, sweat-dampened skin where they touched. Time to get out of here. She slipped out from his hot embrace, ultra-careful not to wake him because there was something she had to do first.

Quietly she found her phone and got it ready. Just as he stirred, she threw the sheet back and captured him in all his morning glory before he could blink.

‘Now we’re even.’ She laughed and teasingly waved the phone at him, determined to hide the ache pulling down her heart—from herself most of all.

He blinked and a slow, naughty smile spread over his face—the return of the charmer. ‘Damn, you should have told me.’ He stretched. ‘I could have posed better for you.’

He could never have been posed better. He looked like the Greek god he’d joked about.

‘I’ll delete this when you delete the picture of me,’ she offered. But it was a lie. Even if she trashed it from her phone, she couldn’t ever wipe this image from her brain.

‘I’m never deleting that.’ His laughter rumbled, rippling muscles over his taut, bronzed chest. ‘I’ve sent it to my computer. It looks brilliant on a big screen.’

Oh, she should have known. ‘You’re a perv.’

‘And you’re an amateur. You think I mind you having a photo of me like this?’

‘Well.’ Mya sniffed. ‘I guess half the city’s women have seen you like this, so, really, it’s nothing that personal, is it?’ She had to remind herself who she was dealing with—and all that this had been.

‘Miaow,’ he said and then reared up on the bed, moving towards her like a tiger on the prowl. ‘Why don’t we make a movie instead? Come here and star in it with me.’

The sight of him on all fours was almost enough to tip her over the edge, but she dug in her heels. ‘You really are a perv.’

‘Come on, back to bed.’ He knelt right up, the most X-rated fantasy Mya had ever seen. ‘It’s early.’

‘And I have work to get to.’ She really had to get out of here.

‘You’re kidding.’

She shook her head.

‘Be late. Call in sick.’

Oh, no, she wasn’t letting him tempt her. It was finished. ‘You know it’s over. The mystery is gone—the wondering of “what’ll we be like”—now we know. Now you can go back to your three-women-a-week lifestyle and I can get on with my studying.’

There was a moment, the briefest of pauses when she wondered what he was going to say. He looked away, hiding his expressive eyes, and he flung back on the bed. ‘It’s only three when I’m on holiday.’ He rested his head on his arm and looked even more like a Greek god reclining.

And all Mya could think was how he’d said there was nothing like starting the day with some good sex. She closed her eyes and forced away the whisper of temptation and the vision of one very aroused Brad. She had a shift to get to. She pulled her crumpled dress back on, hoping it was early enough for her not to get caught doing the walk of shame home.

‘You can borrow some of my clothes if you want,’ he said unhelpfully.

No. That would mean she’d have to see him again to return them, and there was no way that was happening. There was no way she was indulging again. It was going to take long enough to forget how incredible he was as a lover.

She didn’t regret last night. But it had been so good she almost did.

‘I don’t think they’d fit but thanks all the same.’ She turned her back on him so he couldn’t see her mega blush.

There was no reason for them to see each other again after this. He’d had what he’d wanted now and so had she. It was over. Outside work hours she’d be back to nothing but study, and he’d be back to saving kids during the day and romping his way around the city at night. It was one night and it was over.

Four days later her eyes hurt and she was exhausted but two coffees and a sugary doughnut saw her through the first two hours of her shift at the café. She’d already agreed to stay on and do a double shift before going straight to the bar. Desperate to fill every moment of her day. Study wasn’t enough—it was in silence, and in silence her mind wandered. She needed noise and relentless activity.

Sex was sex, right? It was fun and physical, the release was great, and then it was over. Nothing more to it. So why was she so damn fixated on him?

Drew looked up when she finally got to the bar. She was running late from the café, but to her surprise he wasn’t grumpy; in fact he smiled at her as if she were his employee of the week.

‘We have another private function tonight,’ he said. ‘In the VIP room.’

‘We do?’ Another person had hired out part of the place for some outrageous price this close to Christmas? ‘Who’s the client?’

‘Same guy as last time,’ Drew answered. ‘Brad. He specially requested Jonny. Double rates.’

Mya’s insides went solar-hot and her outsides ice-cold, while her heart soared and then dropped in the space of a second. He was supposed to be out of her life—in fact, he was out of her life. He hadn’t contacted her; she hadn’t contacted him … But now he was coming to her place of work but didn’t want to see her? He’d asked for Jonny?

She didn’t know whether to be mad, glad or amused.

‘Trouble is,’ Drew said, ‘Jonny cut himself today. His fingers are all bandaged up and he’ll be off the rest of the week. Are you up to serving the private party?’

‘Do I still get double rates?’ Mya asked.

‘I’ll have to check with the client.’

Mya flicked her fringe out of her eyes and got down to prepping her cocktail trims. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll check with him.’ Her blood quickened as both anger and anticipation simmered. Why hadn’t he wanted her to tend his bar, hmm?

Half an hour later, she walked into the small room that could be roped off for VIPs or small private functions. ‘Hi, Brad,’ she said coolly. ‘You’ve offended me.’

‘I have?’

‘You don’t like my cocktail skills any more?’

‘I didn’t think you’d want me to pay for your time.’ He turned on the smiling charm immediately—but then leaned a little closer to where she now stood setting up the small bar. ‘I thought you might prefer not to have to see me.’

She shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t matter to me.’ She carefully placed glasses. ‘Maybe I could do with the money.’

‘And that wouldn’t bother you?’ He watched her closely.

‘You’d be paying me to pour drinks,’ she answered with some sass. ‘Not anything else. And you’re offering to pay Jonny more than the going rate?’

‘To secure the private space I had to. I didn’t think you’d want me to treat you as a charity.’

‘But you wouldn’t be, would you?’ she asked coolly.

He studied her, a small smile playing around his way-too-luscious lips. Yeah, there was the problem—she now knew exactly how skilled that mouth was.

‘I can be professional,’ she said—to herself more than to him.

‘Can you?’

‘Sure, can’t you?’

His smile deepened. ‘I’m not at work. I’m here to have fun and flirt with the bar staff.’

‘You wanted to flirt with Jonny?’ She laughed. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Jonny is off sick. You’re stuck with me.’

He looked at her.

‘Am I worth double?’ she asked him and tilted her head on the side.

‘You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?’

‘Stirring a cocktail, yes?’

‘You’re stirring, but not just the cocktail.’

‘We can still be friends, right? Isn’t that what you said?’ she said archly.

That was before they’d slept together.

‘Of course.’ He inclined his head and walked to greet the first person coming through the door.

Mya watched the guests arrive and insecurity smote her—there were women here, seriously hot women. Smart ones too. Lawyers, the lot of them. And it was so dumb to feel threatened when she was ninety per cent on her way to being a lawyer too. And even if she weren’t, she still didn’t need to feel any less worthy than them.

Yet she did. The years of conditioning at that school had shaped her—that she should feel grateful for having that opportunity. That she shouldn’t stuff it up. That her drop-kick family background meant she’d never be fully accepted by the social strata that most of these people came from—as James had pointed out.

She watched Brad laughing with one of the women. Oh, no, maybe that was why he hadn’t wanted her to work the bar—had he been sparing her because he was here with another woman? Why hadn’t she thought of that?

Brad knew all the guys were checking her out. It had been a dumb idea to come here, but he’d thought he could pull it off if Jonny had been doing the work. Then Brad could pop into the main bar and snatch a few words with Mya and see how the land lay. Only now she was right in front of him, smiling, joking and teasing with them all as she served them.

And all he could do was watch like some lovelorn pup hoping for any kind of bone to be thrown his way. Some small scrap that might show she wanted him again. It was more than his pride that was stung. Did she really not want another night with him? Had that truly been enough for her? He didn’t believe it—was egotistical enough not to. All he needed was some proof. And to get that, he figured he just needed to get a little closer to her.

Mya fully regretted saying she’d do this. He was more handsome than she remembered, more fun with his wicked smiles and sharp words. And now she was assailed by images of sneaking him into the cupboard or some dark corner in the alley and having her wicked way with him. Quick and frantic and fabulous.

And to make it worse, he’d now taken up residence right beside her and was watching her every move with the full-on maple-syrup glow. Brad Davenport on full throttle. She fumbled with the bottle and was annoyed to glance up and see him suddenly smiling as if he’d won the lottery.

‘Not on your game tonight?’ he drawled. ‘Or is it because you can’t concentrate when I’m near?’

She stopped what she was doing—but couldn’t stop her blush. ‘Don’t be mean.’

His brows hit the ceiling. ‘I’m not the one who was mean—you’re the one who said one night only,’ he whispered harshly as he leaned over.

‘You only do one night,’ she whispered back.

‘Not necessarily.’ He leaned against the bar. ‘Maybe I can do unpredictable.’

Mya clutched the neck of the bottle with damp fingers and tried to joke. ‘Would you be saying this to Jonny?’

He didn’t bother to reply, just kept those burning brown eyes on her.

‘Why didn’t you ask for me?’ she added.

‘Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have got mad if I did? Can you honestly say you’d be happy for me to pay for your time no matter the context?’

She poured herself a tall glass of water. Damn, the guy actually understood her.

‘I’ll walk you home tonight,’ he said.

‘You’re hoping for a good-night kiss?’ She squared her shoulders and asked straight out.

‘I’m concerned for your safety,’ he replied, his eyes twinkling.

‘Really?’

‘Partly. Mainly I want more than a good-night kiss.’

‘Do you?’ she asked softly. ‘What do you want?’

He didn’t answer with words—just that look.

Mya turned away while she still could. ‘I’ll get Pete to come in and finish serving you guys, and I’ll meet you out the front at closing time.’

To her pleasure, he was waiting as she’d asked, at the very end of the night.

‘Where do you live?’ he asked.

‘Tonight?’ she said. ‘I’m staying at your place.’ She walked up to him but he took a step to the side and back, out of reach.

‘I’m not touching you now,’ he muttered. ‘If I touch you now we’ll be all over each other in the nearest shadow and I don’t want to do that.’

‘You don’t?’ Her confidence surged at his words.

He closed his eyes. ‘I don’t want it to be sordid.’

Delight and desire filled her, topped off with relief. All that pleasure was smashed away by the need that pierced her a second later. She walked faster. ‘It wouldn’t be.’

He stopped on the footpath behind her. ‘Mya.’ A warning, a plea, a demand.

She turned her head to look back at him and smiled. Then she walked faster still, her body slick and ready. ‘It would be fun.’

As it had been the night of her party, she seemed to fly rather than walk. Her feet skimmed over the concrete. There was no alcohol in her system, yet she was in a haze as if she was under the influence.

She was under the influence of him.

She realised he was breathing faster than normal, and he was fit. The walk home hadn’t exactly taxed him. Something else was bothering him—the same thing that was bothering her.

She walked up the narrow path to his villa. Under the veranda they were shrouded in darkness the streetlamps couldn’t penetrate. The scent of the rose in the pot by the door was sweet and fresh. She stood in front of the door, like an impatient cat yowling to be let in, while he stood behind her.

‘I can’t get the key in the lock,’ he muttered, nuzzling her neck. ‘Don’t go getting all Freudian on that.’ He chuckled with a groan.

At least they were almost inside his home. He hauled her closer, crushing her against him. She melted into his hot strength, almost delirious with ecstasy already. Yes, this was what she wanted—more of him. All of him. And she was too desperate now to wait a minute longer. On the darkened deck, no one could see them from the street. So Mya, bolder than she’d ever been in her life and on the brink of ecstasy because he wanted her as much as she did him, pulled her jeans down. She didn’t get them very far, wiggling her hips side to side to tug them as far as she could, but she only made it to mid-thigh. She’d hooked her knickers with them, and despite the warmth of summer, the air on her bared butt was cool. She pressed back to feel the rough denim of his jeans against her.

He swore, pithy, crude, hot.

She looked over her shoulder as she put her hands to the cool paint and arched back, letting her butt grind against his pelvis.

He swore again, explicit and thrilling, and curled a strong arm around her waist, his other hand scraping the key in the lock. Finally he got it and turned the handle. He lifted her with that one arm and took the two paces inside. He turned them both and slammed the door, stepped forward immediately, his hands gripping hers and lifting them higher on the wood so they were above her head.

His feet moved between hers, pushing hers wider apart. But they couldn’t go that far the way her jeans were only pulled to her mid-thigh. It excited her all the more—she wanted to be pinned by him again. It had been all she’d been able to think of for days. He leaned against her from behind, holding her still as he unzipped his jeans. She pressed her palms to the door herself, rubbing to feel the blunt head of him so near to entering her slick heat.

‘Hell, Mya.’ He cursed again. ‘I want you …’

She heard the sharp rip, felt his movement behind her. A second later his hands circled her thighs. His fingers met in the middle, touching her intimately. She heard his roughly drawn breath as he felt how wet she already was. His fingers returned to her inner thighs, holding her tight now, and he thrust in hard. No preliminaries, just raw heat.

She gasped, shocked and delighted and desperate all at once. She put her hands on the door, bracing and giving leverage to push back on him and take him deeper. He moaned and immediately pressed his mouth to her shoulder to muffle the sounds of ecstatic agony.

Heat beaded all over her body. Her breath burned in too-short bursts. More moisture slicked where she needed it most, easing his sudden, forceful invasion.

He circled his hips and then thrust hard all the way home again, surging into a quick, hard, breathless rhythm. A coarse word of bliss rapidly transformed into a groan and he paused his rough thrusts into her. ‘Damn it … you can’t possibly come this way.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ But she could, she was almost there already. Desperately turned on. ‘Don’t you dare stop.’

He lifted her, flattening her against the door. Literally screwing her to it. A good thing given her legs were trembling so much they couldn’t hold her up because she was so close to orgasm.

He forced his fingers between her and the wood, and for a second they stroked, as if to ensure she was as turned on as she declared. She pressed against his hand, trapping it, stopping the tease. Then arched her back as much as she could.

‘Brad!’

He growled and withdrew his hand, slamming it against the wall by her head as he thrust hard again. ‘I want you so much.’

She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing hard as his words struck like hot stones into her soul and his body rammed once more into hers. She felt his rough jaw against her cheek; the blunt demand inflamed her body.

She could hardly move her mouth to form the words. ‘More,’ she confessed. ‘I … want you. More … More.’

It became a mantra and then a scream as the sensations skidded, becoming convulsions that twisted through her. Her hands curled into claws as she shook. She ground her hips round and round between him and the wall. Both immovable forces. With a harsh groan he resisted her attempts to milk him. His hands gripped her hips, holding her still as over and over he stroked as if trying to get deeper and deeper within her, as if he too couldn’t bear for it to be over just yet. His need shocked her. The same need that had summoned her here, making her ignore both caution and reason.

‘Oh. Yes.’ Her own primal reaction to his demand was an orgasm so strong she would have fallen to the floor had he not held her so tightly.

His fingers dug as the answering cry was ripped from him.

Breathing hard, he slumped against her, still pinning her to the wall, his head falling to her shoulder. She felt the harsh gusts of breath down her back as he held her close. She appreciated the contact—the comfort—as if he too needed the time and the proximity to process what they’d just shared.

And then he moved, lifting her into his arms and stomping a few feet into his spare room—the library. He sank into the big armchair, holding her in his lap.

Their eyes met in the dim light. He smiled at her and then kissed her. She kissed him back. The slow, tender kisses that they’d skipped in their haste for completion.

‘We’re doing this again,’ he said quietly.

How could she deny him anything when he was so skilfully stirring her body into blissful submission? ‘A couple more times,’ she muttered, barely able to think.

‘More than a couple.’

Okay, she could see the attraction in that for her, but what about him? ‘What’s in it for you?’

He laughed silently, but she felt the vibrations all around her. ‘You have to ask, after that?’

She’d never thought of herself as a skilled lover or any kind of sexual goddess. ‘That other guy told me I was lousy in bed,’ she admitted. ‘And given James had just dumped me, I thought he was right.’

‘You’re kidding,’ Brad groaned. ‘You’re amazing. That was unbelievably amazing.’

The glow he’d already lit inside her burned brighter. ‘Is this not normal for you?’ she teased.

He stilled. She could sense him deliberating over his reply. She looked away, studying the shelf of books as if she could read the titles in the gloom.

He took her chin in firm fingers and turned her so she had to look him in the eye again. ‘No. It’s not.’

She felt her cheeks burn but he wouldn’t let her turn her head away.

‘That other night? And tonight?’ he said softly. ‘Best sex of my life.’

‘No,’ she whispered. She didn’t want him to flatter her with false praise.

‘Do I have to print out a certificate before you’ll believe me?’

She chuckled.

He was the one shaking his head now. ‘You don’t have to get the awards, you know. You don’t need accolades to be certified attractive. All you have to do is smile.’

How could she not smile when he said things like that? ‘Another confession?’ she whispered. ‘It was the best sex of my life too.’

He smiled.

‘But this can’t be anything,’ she added quickly.

‘I don’t think we need to label it, do we?’

‘It’s only for a little while.’ Only until she had her desire for him under control. If she didn’t put her heart on the line, she’d be fine.

He shook his head. ‘Don’t you get it? We can’t put limitations on this because we’ll both want more if we do that. You always want what you can’t have. And we both have that fighter within who wants to defy the rules.’

‘So what do you suggest—no rules?’

‘No rules.’ He leaned over her and whispered. His hand teasing the soft skin of her inner thigh. ‘And if you like, no boundaries.’

Mya stared at him, incredibly tempted. He meant physical boundaries. She knew that. ‘None at all?’

He lifted his shoulders.

Her heart thudded so hard. ‘All or nothing?’

‘Anything you want me to do, sure, I’ll do.’

‘You’re offering to be my love slave? You’ll do whatever I want?’ She couldn’t help but smile at that idea.

He nodded. ‘You take pleasure from me and I’ll take pleasure from you.’

He was offering a licence to thrill. ‘What if I don’t want to do something you ask me to?’ she asked curiously.

His expression deepened and he ran a gentle finger down her arm. ‘I think you’ll want to.’

She touched her tongue to her lip. Yes, she figured she would.

His fingers tickled as he suddenly grinned. ‘I wasn’t actually thinking of anything that kinky,’ he teased. ‘But maybe you were.’

Colour heated her cheeks. ‘What I think of as kinky you probably think of as tame,’ she muttered defensively.

‘You can ask me for anything,’ he murmured.

She nodded. ‘It’s not the right time for a relationship for me and you never want one … but for now—’

‘There’s just now.’ His arms tightened around her and he stood, carrying her down to his room.

Mya reached out and switched on the light as they passed it.

‘I love this wallpaper.’ She gazed at the green vines climbing the white paper. ‘It still stuns me you’re into floral.’

‘It’s not floral,’ he said firmly, planting her on the bed and tugging off her jeans. ‘It’s jungle.’

‘That’s floral.’ She rolled onto her stomach and pointed to the small vase on the bedside table filled with sweet-smelling summer roses.

‘Women like flowers,’ he said blandly, bending to kiss the small of her back.

Oh, he might talk all sophisticated loverman, but it wasn’t quite as it seemed and she knew it. ‘No, you had flowers there that first time I visited, and you didn’t know I was coming.’

‘I’m always prepared for an overnight female guest.’ He emphasised the tease with a nip of his teeth.

‘No.’ She rolled to face him and grabbed a fistful of his shirt to pull him onto her. ‘You prefer to sleep at their houses so you can do the “quickie and exit” in the morning. The only reason I’m here is because you know I’ll leave early. You know I’m not going to linger and make for an awkward morning-after moment.’ She met his darkened gaze and determinedly ignored the way his fingers were stroking closer and closer to her nipple. ‘So the flowers are here because you like them. Furthermore—’

‘There’s more?’

‘Oh, there is. I have all the evidence for this case. You grow the roses in your garden.’

‘Okay, so I grow the roses,’ he admitted. ‘Are you going to tease me about it?’

‘Of course not.’ She rubbed her fingers against his stubble. ‘They’re beautiful.’

His amusement turned wicked. ‘I get pleasure from watching something bloom. I appreciate form, nature’s “curves”.’ His hand slid over her hips and between her thighs.

‘You can try to hide behind some sexy talk, but the fact is you’re talented. You really care about your roses.’

‘I really like curves.’ He burrowed down the bed more. ‘I like pretty pink flowers too.’ He pulled her knees apart. ‘And you’re right, I like to look after them.’ He bent and kissed her there, his tongue circling in ever-teasing strokes, before sliding inside.

Mya had given up on her analysis the moment he touched her. Her eyes closed as sensation rippled out from deep within her. He turned her on so quickly.

When she was wrung out and panting he rose, wearing the smile of a victor. She wound her arms around his waist and pulled him close.

‘Mmm,’ he groaned appreciatively as she wriggled beneath him. ‘I’ve discovered a liking for clinging flowers.’

‘What about carnivorous ones?’ She arched swiftly and ate him whole.

But later as she tumbled towards sleep in his arms she reminded herself exactly how long this fling was going to last. Brad might have said no limitations, but as far as she was concerned it was for one week and one week only. She only had two lecture-free weeks over the Christmas break. The first was his, the second was for her assignments and exam study. There’d be no room for him in her life from then on. Abstinence had failed; an overdose had to work. One week of indulgence.