Page 66 of What I Did for Love
That afternoon, asGeorgie got dressed for the paps, she kept asking herself why sex with a bad boy was so much more thrilling than getting it on with a decent guy. Even if that decent guy had left her for another woman. So why had she made herself sleep alone last night? Because yesterday had been too good. Too much fun. Too deliciously debauched. So mindless and uncomplicated she wasn’t ready to spoil it with real life. She’d also wanted Bram to understand she hadn’t turned into a pushover just because that had been the most thrilling sexual escapade of her life. But shutting him out had taken all her willpower, and she didn’t like the knowing look he’d given her when she’d said she was sleeping alone.
They left the house for a midmorning coffee run and photo op. She decided the best way to restore a sense of normalcy was to pick a fight. “Stop humming.” She scowled at him across the passenger seat. “You only think you can carry a tune.”
“What’s eating you? Not me, unfortunately.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Hey, what happened to your famous sense of humor?”
“You.”
“I guess that’d do it.” He started humming a few bars of “It’s the Hard-knock Life” just to provoke her. “You were a lot friendlier yesterday afternoon. Alot.”
“That was lust, pal. I was using you.”
“And doing a damn fine job of it.”
She didn’t like the way he refused to join her in the fight she needed to have with him. “You shouldn’t have said you remembered what happened that night in Vegas when you really didn’t.”
“Process of elimination. I guarantee that one of us passed out before the deed was done, because if we’d finished up, I’d have remembered.”
For once, she was inclined to believe him.
The paps surrounded them when they emerged from The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. Georgie thought about the zillions of photos she’d seen of celebs carrying either coffee cups or water bottles. Since when had dehydration become an occupational hazard of fame?
“Right here! Look here!”
“Any plans for the weekend?”
“Are you guys still solid?”
“Like a rock.” Bram tightened his arm around her waist and whispered, “If you were really as tough as you pretend to be, you wouldn’t have run off to your nice safe bed last night.”
She beamed up at him. “I told you. I got my period.”
He beamed down at her. “And I told you I didn’t give a damn.”
Lance had given a damn. He’d been nice about it, but sex with a menstruating woman wasn’t his thing. Not that she’d really gotten her period.
“Obviously I haven’t made myself clear,” she whispered, playing the role of the female sexual predator as shutters clicked around them. “You passed your audition yesterday at Provocative. From now on, your only function is to service me. When and where I want it. And I don’t want it right now.”
Liar. She wanted it all right, and she wanted it with him. Yesterday’s experience had been so incredible specifically because she’d been with gorgeous, useless, depraved Bram Shepard. Sex didn’t mean anything more to him than a handshake, and knowing that gave her an exciting new freedom. Her fake—and possibly alcoholic—husband could never have the hold over her Lance had possessed. With Bram, she wouldn’t stew over whether a negligee was alluring enough to attract him or feel as if she needed to read the latest sex manual to keep him interested. Who cared? She might not even shave her legs.
He kissed the top of her ear. “Just so we’re straight, Scoot. You didn’t get your period. You chickened out because you’re afraid you can’t handle me.”
“Not true.”
He gave a final wave to the photographers and began steering her toward the street, still speaking so only she could hear. “The thing about these restrictions you keep trying to set up…” He brushed his knuckles down her spine. “I’m not going to pay attention to any of them.”
Bram loved messingwith Georgie—mentally and physically. She’d shocked the hell out of him yesterday. In his mind, Georgie and Scooter had always been pretty much the same person, but no way in hell would Scooter have put on a show like that. What had happened at Provocative proved the Loser hadn’t managed to whip all the self-confidence out of her, something that had become increasingly evident in the past few weeks. The fact that Lance had traded Georgie in for a cold fish like Jade gave Bram a lot more pleasure than it should.
As they returned from their coffee run, he toyed with the idea of getting her naked right away—it wouldn’t take much effort—but Aaron ruined his plans by meeting them at the door.
“Rory Keene’s secretary called. You’re invited to her house for a glass of wine at five.”
Bram did a mental high jump. He’d been hoping Rory’s affection for Georgie would translate into an opportunity for a face-to-face meeting so he could state his case personally, instead of through her people. He grinned and jiggled his car keys. “Call her back and tell her we’ll be there.”
Aaron pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “She didn’t mention anything about you, Bram. Just Georgie.”
