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But he looked so chagrined by the question, she couldn’t help but believe him a little. “It’s just the job,” he promised. “I swear.”

“All right. Then come over again sometime, if you can get away.”

He sat next to her and smoothed a hand down her neck to her collarbone. Then he gently cupped one of her breasts. “You’re kind of amazing,” he said, his eye on what his hand was doing.

“Just kind of?”

“Well. A guy can’t be too eager. I think I’m supposed to wait two days to call you. Play it cool. I can’t tell you I’d rather stay and do this again in an hour.” His finger circled her nipple, making it peak again.

“An hour, huh?” She slid her hand over his lap and felt his cock starting to swell.

Tom chuckled and bent to press another of those sweet kisses to her mouth. “Okay. It’s possible I have a weakness for your breasts.”

“I told you they were nice.”

“Nice,” he repeated, grinning down at her. “Yes. Perfectly pleasant.” He sneaked down for a quick kiss on one of her nipples and then stood up.

“Tease,” she whispered.

“I have to go!”

“All right. Try not to wake Sophie and Lauren, and lock the door behind you.”

“Not a chance. Get up and lock the dead bolt.”

Isabelle stretched, loving the way his gaze followed her body down. “You’re cruel. I should’ve known it when you held your hand over my mouth and fucked me.”

His face turned immediately red, and Isabelle had to cover her mouth again to hide her laughter. When she finally got control of herself, she rolled her eyes at his embarrassment.

“This is gonna be fun,” she said.

He only shook his head and watched her grab a robe. Isabelle stretched again, just to watch him look, and then she belted the robe and finally let him escape, telling herself she didn’t care if he stayed.

* * *

HE COULDN’T SLEEP.

After fourteen hours of work, one insanely good orgasm and the eight urgent emails he’d had to return, he should’ve been fast asleep by now. It was 1:00 a.m., and he had to be up at six. Nothing he hadn’t faced before, but it was more than work stressing him out now.

He should not have had sex with Isabelle. He really, really shouldn’t have. But even now, hours later, he couldn’t wrap his mind around how he would have stopped. It had felt so right, even with all the wrongness swimming through his head. Every way they’d touched and kissed, every sound of arousal she’d made.

God, the sounds. Tom actually sighed at the thought of them. She was fucking glorious. But he’d had to get her quiet.

&nbs

p; His cock thickened at the memory of pressing his hand to her mouth. That had felt wrong on every level. He barely knew her. He’d never touched her before. He didn’t know her needs or kinks. And he’d never restrained a woman that way. Never thought he would.

It had been wrong. And all the wrongness of it had gathered up inside him and pulsed like throbbing lust through his body. Feeling her breath against his hand, her teeth against his fingers, her screams rising through his bones. It had felt good.

“Shit.” Tom sat up on the cot and put his feet on the floor.

It didn’t matter how good it had felt. He was deceiving her. She wouldn’t have let him do that if she’d known he was digging through her past.

He had to stop.

Except tonight, before the sex, he’d gotten that one detail that was niggling at the back of his brain and was keeping him awake. Her mother had died, and he had a specific year and cause of death. His search had just narrowed significantly.

Somehow he’d forced himself to ignore that and pretend he could leave it until tomorrow. He couldn’t.


Tags: Victoria Dahl Jackson: Girls' Night Out Romance