Burn My Hart (The Notorious Harts 2)

I lift my fingers. ‘Scout’s Honour.’

‘No way were you a Boy Scout.’

‘True, but I mean it.’

She considers this for a moment. ‘What about you?’

‘I’ll be happy for you.’

She’s quiet as she mulls this over. ‘And then what? Find someone else to do this with?’

‘Maybe.’ I grin but, in all honesty, the idea of sleeping with another woman holds very little appeal. Yet. I know that will come, in time. It’s just that when Asha’s in the room my libido has no room for anyone else. ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.’

She pulls away from me to sip her wine. ‘You were wrong tonight.’

‘I know. It was a bit of a dick move.’

Her eyes hold mine. ‘A bit?’

I know that look in her eyes. It pulls at me like an invisible string. ‘Can I make it up to you?’

‘What do you have in mind?’

My laugh is throaty. ‘Things that are better shown than described.’

‘Oh?’ She places the wineglass down more gently now.

‘From the minute you walked into the bar, I have been wanting to do this.’ I close the distance between us and fist her camisole, pushing it up her body quickly. She lifts her hands so I can sweep it over her head and toss it away from us. It’s a warm night but the penthouse is climate controlled, cool and comfortable, and her nipples tighten in response to the air.

She lifts a finger to my chest, holding me at a distance, and there’s a line between her brows. I still, waiting for her to say whatever’s on her mind, even when my body is thrumming with need.

‘You’re sure about this?’

I’m surprised to find myself hesitating, as though the words are blocked inside of me, so I grin to dispel that. ‘One more month then I’ll play Cupid myself. Deal?’

She pulls back to look at me, her eyes flashing with something I don’t recognise. ‘Deal. Now show me how sorry you are, Theo Hart.’

* * *

It’s almost dawn and I know I should go. I’ve never slept the night at his place and I don’t plan on sleeping here now. He’s asleep, though. I can’t say I blame him. For hours he ‘apologised’ to me, using his clever mouth, hands and impressive cock, until my body was trembling from the number of orgasms he’d given me.

I was livid when I left the Four Seasons. L-I-V-I-D. I mean, we’d discussed this and, even though I had misgivings, I went along on the date because Theo and I had agreed it made sense. And sure, my misgivings had grown once Angus met me outside the bar. I think his appeal at Caroline’s party had been that he was a lifeline in the midst of an event I really would have preferred not to be attending at all. Still, he is a nice guy, just not my cup of tea, and none of that is Theo’s business.

He and I are so black and white in what we’re doing. And yet, deep down, I’m starting to worry that maybe we’re not.

All I could think as I sat across from Angus, watching him flirt with me, was that it was wrong. Wrong on every level. To Angus, to Theo, to me. I’m a transparent person. I like to say what I think and do as I feel, and dating one guy while my body craves another just isn’t my jam.

Lesson learned.

But, at the same time, this thing with Theo needs to stop. This has to end some time. He said it, and he was completely right. He’s like quicksand and, despite the boundaries we’ve put in place, I can feel every spare second drawing me towards him. It’s not like I have much spare time and there are other things and people who should be getting some of it.

I shift in the bed, pushing up on one elbow so I can see him better. My pulse fires in my veins at his familiar, addictive face. I ache to lean forward and drop a kiss to his lips, but he’s so peaceful that I don’t.

He mentioned his brother’s wedding a while back. The idea of going to it with him is interesting. I need to think it through a little before I commit. After all, it will be a family affair and we’re not a real couple. It would be kind of out of place for me to attend. Then again, people take dates to weddings all the time. It’s not like anyone there needs to know we’re just fucking.

It’s a month away. I have time to consider this.

But, one way or another, that wedding is now our line in the sand. He suggested it, and at first I was shocked, but the more I think about it, the more sense it makes.