One Night Wife (The Confidence Game 1)

She patted his chest. “That’s a W question.”

“That has to tell you what a mess I am about you.”

“I think you trying to sleep on a sun lounge did that. I want more of what we were like at Beacon and all this week. More of you in bed with me that doesn’t only involve snuggles. I want us to screw till we’re too tired to eat burgers, to even know they’ve been invented.”

He hugged her closer. He didn’t want a reason to reject the simplicity of that, but he still had a dozen of them, and the frayed piece of rope that tied his sense of self, duty, and family to the roar of desire that fed his hope, pulled dangerously taut.

“I don’t need you to be in love with me, Cal. Just love me the best you can while we’re together.”

She would tire of him. He didn’t know how to have fun. He worked all the time. He was guarded and secretive. He talked in riddles, and she knew that, and still, she wanted him. He was the worst possible choice for her.

That rope was going to strangle him.

“I’m not asking for forever, only for however long we enjoy ourselves,” she said.

It snapped.

It was as if a physical thing in his body went slack. Constraints released, caution fell free, obligation unwound until he wasn’t choked by it. He tipped Fin’s chin up, lowered his head, and kissed her firmly enough to make their own sunrise. This was the shell game of his life, and she’d won, and he’d con the heavens to keep her on the winning side.

He kissed her till she moaned and squirmed and climbed over him. He let his hands move on her body in all the ways he’d denied them and exalted in the way she rocked against him, dug her fingers into his skull, and held his eyes with a look of surprised delight.

“Like this, Cal. I want us to be like this.”

“But with less clothing and more privacy.”

She laughed. “You’re such a grown-up.”

Skin on skin and no interruptions and time. He wasn’t about to rush this, a hasty coupling where they could be discovered at any minute. They weren’t kids, and speedy wasn’t going to tie a single helium balloon on the weight of his lust for her. He brought their mouths together again and licked into Fin’s as he palmed her ass and pushed his hips against hers. He wanted time to devour her thoroughly, systematically, utterly, and he told her that as he kissed down her neck and throat, opening the buttons of her kitty shirt in advance of his lips.

“I want you long and loud, Fin. I want you hot and wet and needy, and I’m taking my time with you. Every part of you will be mine. All your secret places and sounds and smells. Everything you feel and are and need is mine.”

She got loud when he licked over her nipple, and it reminded him he wasn’t about to share the sounds she made with anyone. Good sense didn’t stop him turning a lick to a kiss to a suck. Recklessness tasted like honeysuckle cream and Fin’s soft skin and smelled like sunshine and the sea. She was more addictive than any of the legal and illegal substances he’d been offered in the last night, but there was no darkness to cover them, and he could hear movement, voices in the house behind them.

He kissed the runaway pulse in her neck as he buttoned her back up. “Not here. Not now.”

She tried to slap his hands away. “No, no, you can’t stop.”

“Don’t want to share you with the morning yoga class.”

She slumped against him. “Oh shit. You have a golf game.”

Maybe he didn’t care about that. Recklessness was pushing work aside for true pleasure. A day in bed with Fin would take the edge off, would stop him pretending what was between them could be compartmentalized and kept separate.

“I have to extract my revenge with big dollar donations.” She pulled out of his arms and sat back on his shins as the first early jogger sauntered past them with a quick double take while she jammed earbuds in.

There it was. Fin’s self-preservation skills were better tuned than his.

She swept her hand over his chest. “You’re not going to go cold on me, are you?”

He sat forward and brushed her nose with his. “Not a chance. I’m untethered now.”

She shivered. “That sounds so hot.”

They managed to get to their room, bouncing off each other and various walls and once there, he pestered her with kisses while she got ready for the day. His tee time was later. He was in no hurry, and he could grab a couple of hours sleep while she was gone. He’d need it. He stretched out on the bed while she fixed her hair. She wore yoga pants that showed off every curve and a top that was a second skin. It was as close to being naked as he’d seen her.

Cue a long hard staring contest that was laden with all kinds of heated promises. “You really want to do yoga?”

“I really want Paris’s money.”