He looked at her, his gaze dropping to her cleavage, and her nipples tightened in a totally over-the-top response.
“We just meet up”—he raised his eyes to her face, held her gaze—“screw each other’s brains out, and don’t bother with much conversation.”
She cleared her throat; something seemed to be lodged halfway down. “I guess.”
“We know all about each other sexually, but not a lot else? Hmm…so what’s your favorite position? Just in case your grandmother asks.”
She stared at him for a moment, heat washing through her, then a little giggle escaped her as she imagined the scene. He was teasing her, and she supposed she was awfully easy to tease. She licked her lip, stared into his blue eyes. She didn’t want him to think she was a total pushover. “I like it from behind.”
…
Crap.
His head filled with an image of her on all fours in front of him, and his dick jerked to instant life in his pants.
She giggled again, and he shot her a dark look.
“What?” he said.
“The expression on your face.”
He shrugged. “I guess you surprised me.”
“I did?” She looked a little too pleased with herself.
“Yeah. I was expecting you to say the missionary.” That would work for him as well; her lush little body sprawled out beneath him, her breasts pushing upward. She’d have pink nipples to go with that creamy skin, and maybe freckles across her breasts.
Stop thinking about sex.
Especially sex with Lexi.
He’d gone into the office that afternoon to catch up on some paperwork, but he’d found himself going over ways to convince Lexi to go along with his annulment. And what to do if he failed.
It wasn’t a real marriage. Maybe he could pretend it didn’t exist. But that wasn’t really an option. Promiscuity was something else his mother had cured him of; she’d never been faithful to one man for any length of time. Though she’d once told him that his father had been the love of her life. He’d walked out on her when she’d told him she was pregnant. His mother didn’t even know who his sister Evie’s father was. There were two or three contenders, but no one had ever stepped forward.
His mother had left him with a deep desire for order—he wanted his relationships nice and tidy and one at a time. And while the marriage might not be real, he needed it cleared up before he could comfortably move on.
So he’d have to persuade Lexi.
Because he wasn’t waiting six months.
No, any chance of waiting a single month, let alone six, had disappeared as soon as her mouth had touched his.
Something had happened with that kiss, as if his body had woken from a long sleep. Now it was wide awake, and he couldn’t stop thinking about sex.
More worrying, he couldn’t get the memory of Lexi in his arms out of his head. Which was very inconvenient, because while he wanted sex, he most certainly did not want married sex. That would make him truly married, and that was never going to happen. Ever.
There was a car in front of them, and they stopped for a moment. She fidgeted with a loose strand of hair then turned to him. “Do I look okay?” she asked.
He studied her, head cocked to the side. She wore a wrap-around black dress that molded her curves and showed off her cleavage, black stockings, and high-heeled black pumps. Her hair was up in some sort of knot on the top of her head, exposing her slender throat. She was beautiful, and for a moment, he couldn’t drag his eyes from her.
She squirmed under his scrutiny, biting her lip.
“You have lipstick on your teeth,” he said.
“I do?”
He nodded. “There are tissues in the glove box.”
She pressed open the door and stared. “Oh.”
He followed her gaze and raised an eyebrow.
“You have a whole box of condoms in your car.”
“They were a present.” Logan had given them to him, saying that if Josh was going to get laid, he needed to be prepared—hence the condoms.
She reached past them tentatively, as though she might catch something from touching the box. She really was amazingly naive. For a married woman. For the first time, he wondered what she’d been doing for sex all these years. Had she had boyfriends?
She grabbed a tissue and wiped off the lipstick, then bared her teeth at him. “Okay?”
He nodded, and looked down over the rest of her, lingering on the deep V of her cleavage, then lower. He stretched out a hand and touched one finger to the run in her pantyhose, where he could see her creamy skin through the tear.
“You have a run. I don’t suppose you have a spare pair.”
“Not a chance. I’m never that organized. I’ll just have to do.”
His hand was still on her knee, and his finger moved without his conscious thought, stroking up her thigh, pushing her skirt out of the way.
A horn blared behind them, and he snatched his hand back.