Page 82 of The Bet
Her eager fingers on his naked skin drew every drop of blood south.
Fuck.
He shot to attention, felt the familiar stirring in his loins. Hungered for the kind of filthy, dirty sex he’d been dreaming off for months.
A frustrated groan caught in his throat, and it took all of his might to reach down and pull her hand away. A loud, sorry gasp left his lips, a sigh of huge disappointment.
“No,” he growled, low and hoarse.
“Why not?” She reached for him again.
“No.” This time more forceful. He seized her hand, preventing her from dipping further, and stepped away. What in the world was he doing? They could have had a few hours of the type of sex that left sweat-streaked bodies and a room smelling musty and stale. A good couple of hours of the best, mind-boggling, dirty, grown-up fun.
And nobody would have known.
Not Luke.
Not Izzy.
Hell, Izzy didn’t even know about the bet, let alone give a shit what he was doing with Gisele.
“Xavier.” It was breathless, the way her voice sounded, his name rolling off her tongue. “What’s wrong with you?”
“This isn’t happening.”
“Why not?” She slapped her palms flat against his chest. Then, stepping back in surprise, “Who is she?”
He shook his head. “There isn’t anyone.”
“You liar. You liar!” her voice turned high, almost like a shriek.
“There isn’t,” he insisted. “This guy, the producer, is it the same guy who wanted you to wear a bikini to the interview?”
“As if you care.”
“I do. Was it?”
“No. That’s a different guy. And I’m on the shortlist, thanks for asking.”
He swiped his hands through his hair, then intertwined them, resting then palms around the back of his head. Gisele’s gaze swooped to his arms, before she ran her gaze all over him.
“You’re still going ahead with it, even now, with all these scandals coming out of Hollywood?”
“Sometimes you have to do stuff to get what you want.”
“How far would you go?”
“As far as I have to.”
He frowned, thinking how little he knew her. “I’m busy, Gisele. I have to get something ready for an important meeting.”
She stared at his body again, the way she used to, her gaze moving over him, slow and hungry. “You sure you don’t want to … ?”
“I’m sure.”
She shrugged, and walked towards the door, and left.
There were days when he was sure his dick couldn’t handle such a prolonged absence from sex.
