CHAPTER THREE

DONT DO IT, MAN.

Oh, but I really want to.

The good angel perched on John’s shoulder didn’t have a chance. John normally had a will of iron, but seeing that other man’s hands on Meg’s body had sent all common sense flying out the door.

“Cat got your tongue?” Meg looked up at him, challenge written all over her face. “Or do epic one-liners like that always render you mute?”

Arching an eyebrow, he opened his mouth to reply, but at the same moment, the deejay decided to play a track with enough bass to make the floor vibrate beneath their feet. Meg winced at the noise. When he pointed toward the front door of the bar, she nodded eagerly and didn’t protest when he placed a hand at the small of her back to guide her through the crowd.

He could feel the heat of her skin, emanating through the thin—very thin—cotton of her dress. A fabric like that would rip like tissue, revealing all of that soft peach skin, ready for his hands and his mouth.

The way she shivered beneath his fingers told him she might not be averse to that idea.

The air outside the bar was cool after the crush of bodies inside, a gulp of ice water on a parched throat. Watching Meg walk ahead of him, though, threw him right back into the fever.

“Did you know that your dress is completely see-through?” His voice was rough, the words catching in his throat as he guided her through the parking lot to where his car sat. He’d had too many drinks to drive, but it was the only quiet place he could think of to bring her.

“Is it really?” She smirked over her shoulder at him, the expression belying her words. “I had no idea.”

“Meg,” he protested, slowing as they reached his vehicle. With a gentle touch, he pressed her back against the passenger’s-side door, her back to the metal, him at her front. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I didn’t dress like this for you,” she commented mildly, “but if I knew how much you liked red satin thongs, I might have worn one around you sooner.”

He exhaled harshly. Though he wanted to fill his hands with those lush tits of hers that were on full display, he forced himself to lay his palms flat on the car door on either side of her. Lowering his forehead to hers, he laughed roughly.

This was about to get really, really complicated, and yet he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to resist, not anymore. The last shreds of his willpower had disappeared with the word thong.

“John,” Meg whispered, frowning slightly, “I think it’s pretty clear that we both want this. So why are you holding back?”

Why was he hesitating?

With every other woman he’d allowed into his life, even for just a night, he’d had no connection. No attachment to them. Meg, though?

“I like you,” he admitted. He even...cared about her. He wouldn’t be able to just walk away.

“Liking me is good.” Meg grinned up at him, then trailed a finger down his chest, between his pecs...and then farther down. “See? I like you, too.”

Hissing, he caught her hand before she could take him to the point of no return. Still, her fingertips grazed the head of his erection through his slacks, and he saw stars.

“This part is easy,” he informed her, placing a mere inch between them, but an inch he very much needed to form any kind of coherent thought. “It’s the part that comes after that makes this messy.”

“You mean when you leave?” She cocked her head, studying him, and he had the uncomfortable sensation that she could see right through to the heart of him. Right to the part of him that wasn’t as excited to go as he should have been. “I think that makes it easier.”

“How so?” He held his breath, hoping both that she gave him a solid reason not to do this...and also that she had something to say that gave his conscience the all clear.

No, John. No, the little angel on his shoulder whispered.

The devil on his other side knocked the little angel out cold.

“You’re here for, what? One more week?” He nodded, and she pursed her lips—incredibly full lips that would look glorious wrapped around his cock. “That’s perfect.”

“How so?” He was stuck on the image of her lips. Discussing this like it might happen had his brain foggy, and he was having trouble keeping up.

“Well, I know you don’t do commitment. And that’s fine, because I’m not looking for it.”

He frowned slightly. For some reason, he didn’t like that, but she continued, “But I also have this sneaking suspicion that once isn’t going to be quite enough to get this out of our systems.” Without warning, she rose to her toes. Her soft, warm tongue darted out, tracing a line over his jaw, and he groaned with something akin to pain.

“You might be right about that.” His hand was in her hair before he consciously decided to do it, wrapped in the silky chestnut waves. She gasped, a throaty little sound, when he tugged just a bit.

“Do that again.”

Shit. He was really in trouble.

He tugged again, a little harder this time, and had the pleasure of seeing her cheeks flush with the most delicious shade of pink.

He liked to be in control. He could tuck it away and trot out a vanilla version of himself when the situation demanded it, but to have a woman respond to him the way Meg was right now, to just the slightest nonverbal command...

Yeah, one time was most definitely not going to be enough.

“Do you know what you’re asking?” He kept his voice deliberately mild, though he was feeling anything but.

“If you’re asking if I know that you’re a kinky bastard, yeah, I’ve heard the rumors.” She grinned up at him, but the sauciness of her words was undercut by the raw need he saw sparking in her eyes.

“Theo talks too much,” he muttered, to which she smirked.

“You can tell me why Theo knows so much about your kinks some other time.” Her expression grew serious.

“Tell me,” he said softly. Closing the space between them again, he pressed his hips flush with hers. She gasped when he rocked the solid length of his erection against the soft curves of her stomach. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I’ve been working so damn hard.” Letting her head fall back against the cool metal of the car door, she closed her eyes on a breathy sigh. “I just want to have some fun. It might be nice to be...taken care of.”

“Fuck me.” No way was he walking away from this. No way in hell.

Opening her eyes, she fixed him with a laser-like blue stare. “Isn’t that what you like?”

His control snapped. With a growl, he lowered his hands to her hips. Sliding a palm along the outside of one of her thighs, he wrapped it around his waist, leaving her core exposed.

She gasped when he bent his knees, adjusting their position so that his rock-solid cock pressed against her entrance. With his free hand, he slid an inquisitive finger over her panties, finding her as slick as the satin of the thong she’d teased him with.

“Is this what you want me to take care of?” He rocked into her warmth again, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her leg, against the need to rip that flimsy excuse of a thong aside and drive himself home. “This greedy little pussy?”

“Y-yes.” Her skin was flushed, her breath coming in pants, her eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of sensation. “Please.”

“Then let’s discuss terms.”

He might have laughed at the shock on her face as her eyes flew open, but he understood just how desperate she was feeling.

“Now?” Her voice was incredulous. “How about in ten minutes? No, make it five. You’ve got me so fired up—it won’t take long.”

He laughed, a throaty chuckle as he ran his thumb slowly over her lips.

“We’re not doing this until we set some ground rules, kitten.” Reluctantly, he set her back on her feet, smoothing her dress back down around her hips and resenting the hell out of the cotton for the loss of access.

“All right.” She gave a shake like a puppy, as though to clear her head, then squared her shoulders, reminding him again of what he liked about her. She was hot, yes, but she was also stubborn and ambitious, both traits he admired. Both traits he had. “First. This is just for one week, yes? Just until you leave. Full stop.”

“Correct.” Though he was surprised and slightly unsettled to have her lay it out so clearly before he could; he wasn’t used to that. “I can’t offer more than a week.”

“I wasn’t asking for a ring, cowboy.” She arched an eyebrow, and John shifted. She was absolutely right, of course, so why did her willingness to limit their fling to a week unsettle him? “Like I said. I just want to hand over the reins for a few days.”

“I’ve never had a woman give herself to me for an entire week.” The thought of having Meg for seven entire days...of being able to explore things with her that he hadn’t yet with any other woman was intoxicating.

When he looked into her clear blue eyes again, he found her looking puzzled.

“That’s not sexist, is it?” Dammit. He’d just been saying what he felt.

“How is a choice I make freely sexist?” Meg cocked her head, and again, he felt as though she could see right through him.

“Then why are you looking at me like you’re confused?” Dipping his head on impulse, he brushed a hint of a kiss over her full pink lips—their first kiss, a promise of what was to come.

“Because you make it sound like I’m giving you a present.” A hint of uncertainty colored her voice. At least he wasn’t the only one off his game here.

“You are.” Sucking in a deep breath, he forced himself to take a giant step back, bumping into the car parked next to his. “And it’s a big present. So I want you to be absolutely sure.”

“I’m sure.” If her voice had been full of bravado, he might not have believed her, but what he heard was quiet yet sure. Yeah, she knew what she wanted, which was apparently the same thing he did. That, and the picture she made, leaning against his car with her dress all disheveled, skin flushed and eyes bright from his touch, made it so tempting to seal their deal right then, right there.

But she was giving him a gift, and he wanted to do right by her. So he simply ran a hand over the stubble on his skull and grinned.

“Go home, Meg. Think this over. Are you free tomorrow night?”

She nodded, and the trust in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees.

“Come to my hotel for dinner.”

“You don’t have to feed me,” she said as she smiled wryly. “You don’t have to wait, either.”

“You said you wanted to be taken care of,” he reminded her, surprising himself by crossing the space between them and taking her hand in his. He liked the feeling of her fingers twined with his. “I intend to do that.”

She frowned, clearly puzzled, and he swallowed a chuckle. He didn’t mind throwing this confident, competent woman off her game, just a bit.

“So cold showers for us both tonight?” She cocked her head as she spoke, leaning forward slightly. Deliberately, he was sure, to give him a prime view of her rather spectacular tits spilling out the top of her dress.

His cock stiffened impossibly further.

“I’ll take a shower,” he agreed, squeezing her fingers, “but I’ll be doing it with my cock in my hand, thinking about you.”

“John!” she gasped, her hand reflexively squeezing his. “God.”

“You can call me both of those things as much as you want.” He rubbed his thumb over one of her fingers, wondering why the small gesture made his pulse quicken. “But save them for tomorrow. You keep those busy little fingers out of your panties tonight, understood?”

“You’re not serious.” Her spine stiffened. “You can’t tell—”

“I can, and I just did.” He smirked down at her, bending so that he could whisper into her ear. “You gave yourself to me for a week, remember? And I won’t be cheated out of one of your orgasms.”

Meg’s breath thickened, and he wanted to take care of the mean little ache he’d given her, right then and there.

“There she is!”

Meg and John jerked apart, fingers untangling as they heard Jo’s unmistakable, throaty voice. Looking across the parking lot, they saw Meg’s sister and Theo, winding their way through the parked cars.

“What are you doing out here?” Theo frowned at John. John scowled right back, burying a twist of guilt.

He was new to this whole friendship thing, but he was pretty sure that making plans to screw the lights out of someone your friend considered a sister was a no-no.

“We wanted to talk, and it was too loud in there,” Meg replied mildly. She gave no sign of what they’d been discussing, and John had to admire her self-control, because he felt as though his actions were scrawled in red, right across his face for anyone to read.

He felt that twist of guilt, yes, but what he felt for Meg was stronger. Interesting.

“Did he behave himself?” Theo asked Meg darkly as he shot a look at John. His tone was joking, but John again felt the burn.

He’d cultivated the playboy image for years—reveled in it, even. Why did he suddenly care that people saw him that way?

That was a question for another day. He was trying to think up a reply when Meg cut him off.

“Theo, remember what happened when you gave me the John lecture last time?” Her voice was light, pleasant, but with a thread of steel.

“I’m just trying to—” Theo’s words broke off on a shriek as Meg, lightning quick, snaked out a hand. Catching Theo’s left nipple in nimble fingers, she gave it a quick twist that buckled his knees.

“What? Why?” Theo clasped a hand to his wounded chest, his expression tragic as a baby bird fallen from its nest.

“You don’t get to mansplain my choice of bed partners, bro.” Smoothing her hair back, Meg lifted her chin in the air. “And you have nothing to worry about. John and I understand each other perfectly. Now, did you have a reason to track me down?”

“We’re going home,” Theo bit out, glaring at Meg. “Though I’m second-guessing offering you a ride.”

“You deserved it,” Jo informed her partner. The wounded expression on Theo’s face brought laughter rumbling out of John’s chest.

He watched as the three of them piled into Theo’s car, bickering all the way. The message was clear—they were family. They depended on one another. It was something he’d never had, something he didn’t fully understand, and the thought that he was somehow a part of it, even on the periphery, was both comforting and anxiety inducing.

Meg looked out the window as they drove away, and family was suddenly the last thought in his brain. She winked at him suggestively, then made an incredibly dirty gesture with her fingers, and he burst out laughing again.

Tomorrow night was a long way away.