Just One Night (Sex, Love & Stiletto 3)

“Not bad?” he growled.

“It was good, really. But is that all you’ve got?” Riley licked a drop of whisky out of the corner of her mouth.

“Hell no, it’s—Jesus. We’re not going to get through dinner if you keep doing that thing with your tongue.”

“So let’s skip it.”

“Skip what?”

“Dinner.”

Sam stared at her, and she stared right back. “Somehow I didn’t think the day would ever come when I heard those words come out of Riley McKenna’s mouth. You love food.”

Riley’s hand found his leg. Scratched slightly against his jeans. “Maybe tonight I want to love something else.”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. Then he shifted, pulling out his wallet. “We’re going to regret this.”

“Maybe.”

“You have about thirty seconds to change your mind, but after that …”

Riley’s fingers found his wrist, tilting the face of his watch toward her. “Twenty-two seconds … seventeen …”

“Riley.”

Her head snapped up at the seriousness in his tone.

“This is a onetime deal. One night to get whatever you need for your story, and then we go back to normal.”

She swallowed. Nodded.

For now, she mentally added.

“Say it out loud,” he said. “This can never be something.”

She wanted to ask why. Wanted to demand that he open his eyes and see how good they could be together. But because she knew him—knew everything about him—she knew if she pushed too soon, he’d run.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Just one night.”

He searched her face as though for any indication that she was going to keep him chained up in her closet until the end of days.

Then he smiled. “Let’s go make it a hell of a night.”

Chapter Nine

Sam had booked a hotel room for the night, and no matter how much she protested that it was ridiculous when she lived a short cab ride away, he refused to go back to her place.

“That’ll make it personal,” he insisted. “What happens when I have to stop by your apartment to change a lightbulb or pick up the free Yankees tickets you always seem to have access to? I’ll be forever thinking of you naked.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she grumbled as he helped her out of the cab.

Sam’s fingers tightened on her hand, stilling her as he looked her over. “Believe me. I don’t think any man would ever say that you naked is a bad thing.”

“Hotels are expensive,” she said, staring up at the nice, if not trendy hotel before the

m.

“Riley,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Let me do this, okay?”