A Mistress, a Scandal, a Ring

With a manoeuvre that left her startled and breathless, he flipped her on her back and loomed above her. ‘“This sort of thing”?’

She swallowed. ‘Casual sex.’

He made a low, rough sound. ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’

Pleased to hear what? That she was nowhere near as experienced as him? She wished she’d said something different. Something that would have portrayed her as a woman of the world. The type of woman who could blithely indulge in a sexual fling and walk away without a backward glance.

He circled her left nipple with his fingertip. ‘There’s only one rule you need to know, amante.’

She tried to ignore the little ring of fire his finger created. ‘What does that mean?’

‘What?’

‘Amante?’

His lips curved in a smile that was altogether too sexy. A smile that made her body heat and her insides melt. The heat was welcome, but not the melting. The melting of organs—especially the one in her chest—was strictly forbidden.

‘Lover,’ he said, and then dipped his head and drew her nipple into his mouth.

Oh, God.

She fought to concentrate. ‘And—’ She gasped as he sucked harder. ‘Wh-what’s the rule?’

After several more seconds of inflicting sweet torture on her he lifted his head and locked his glittering gaze onto hers. ‘You don’t walk away from this—from me—until we’ve burned it out.’

Which meant he believed their attraction had a shelf life. Was that how it was with this kind of crazy, intense chemistry? Did the passion flare hot and bright for a brief time and then naturally extinguish itself?

She didn’t know if she found the idea reassuring or depressing.

His hand trailed over her stomach and she lost her train of thought. Tiny tremors of anticipation quaked through her. His mouth descended towards hers.

And then a grumbling noise, horribly loud and endlessly long, filled the air.

Jordan froze.

Xavier lifted his head and looked at her. ‘Was that your stomach?’

Wishing she could disappear, she covered her face with her hands. ‘Yes!’ She glared at him through her fingers. ‘Are you laughing at me?’

He was. Which meant she had not only his sexy smile to contend with, but the rich, delicious sound of his low laughter.

He straightened, took her hands and pulled her into a sitting position.

She gave him a look of dismay. ‘What are you doing?’

‘We are getting up,’ he said. ‘And then I’m ordering some food.’

She dropped her gaze to the very impressive semi-erect appendage between his legs. She raised an eyebrow. ‘Wouldn’t you rather do something else?’ She would.

‘Sí. But you need to eat.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

He tipped up her chin. ‘That’s a lie. We both need to eat. And believe me, amante—’ his sudden smile was wolfish ‘—you’ll need the energy for the night ahead.’

* * *

If watching Jordan climax was at the top of his list of most erotic experiences, then watching her devour half a dozen raw oysters came a close second.