Page 68 of Scotch on the Rocks

She paused long enough for me to know she understood my meaning, then didn’t look at me when she said, “It’s not like you don’t have plenty of contenders.” I searched her face for the barest hint of jealousy and found it in the tightness around her mouth.

“I suppose the more they try, the less I want it,” I teased.

She scoffed, just like I knew she would, and snatched the glass back. “You’re such a man.”

“Not denying it.” Drawn into this game we were playing, I leant closer, knees slotting between hers. “How many men have touched you since that night?”

“Probably fewer than you think.”

“That’s all you’ll give me?” My voice was low. Rough. And if she glanced down at my sweats, well … there’d be little hiding what this conversation was doing to me.

She sipped the drink, though it was mainly ice at this point. “It’s all you deserve.”

“And what we had …” I cleared my throat, choking on memories of that night that fucking haunted me. “That’s always how you like it?”

I was man enough to admit she’d struck me stupid, following me to my car, tempting me until I could scarcely remember my own name. I’d been half crazed from a single taste. If I’d hoped it would be enough to cure my need for her, I’d been sadly, foolishly mistaken. My balls were still blue five years later. I’d dreamed of it, letting the memoryconsume me over and over, until I was coming in my own hand before I woke up.

“Sometimes.” Her coy shrug said always. “I like to be in charge, I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.”

It wasn’t. Fucking hot was what it was. The change in her posture, however, told me she hadn’t always been made to feel that way.

I shut the thought down, before the image of my brother and hertogethercould surface. Even that wouldn’t be enough to make me walk away this time. “And let me guess, theseboysyou grant the privilege of being in your bed, they don’t like letting you take the lead?”

When her mouth tightened and she studied the darkened television, I knew I’d hit the nail on the head.

Fucking hell.

Knowing Juniper wasn’t getting what she deserved made me all the more desperate to be the one to give it to her.

“Anything you want. I’m game for it,” I promised. She jerked, brown eyes almost black in the low light. “Whatever you need, sweetheart … I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.” I shifted closer, breathing in the dizzying lightness of her scent. It wasn’t overpowering and clawing like most perfumes. Juniper Ross knew true temptation lay in subtlety. “Do you want me to kiss you?” I asked, just like I had the day in my bathroom.

“No.” She didn’t shift away.

“You’re looking at me like you do.”

“There’s something in my eye.”

There was something in her eye, all right, something that might have scared a lesser man. I imagined it was the same look a siren bestowed upon a sailor at the precise moment they realised they’d fucked up and were dragged to a watery grave.

I inched closer. Testing the boundaries. “You wanted me to kiss you once before.”

“A colossal mistake.”

“Right now, I’m thinking it might have been the best idea I’ve ever had.” I studied her expression for the slightest give, the slightest hint that she wanted my mouth on her, my hands on her. “What do you want, harpy? Tell me and I’ll make you come better than they ever did.”

“A bold statement.” Her pupils were pinpricks. Words little more than a rasp.

“It’s only bold if I can’t back it up.” I had every intention of doing that and more. I allowed the cocksure smile I knew she hated stretch over my features. A challenge issued.

“Is Simon really a therapy bunny?” Her lips curled inward, as though she hadn’t meant to ask the question aloud.

“Yes,” I said, doing my best to keep up.

“Ugh! Why do you have to be so kind? It’s bloody irritating.” Her head fell back, exposing her throat, and I broke, chuckling as my nose found the dip in her collarbone where her pulse thundered.

“Are you turned on by my soft side, sweetheart?”

“Absolutely not!”

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