Page 79 of Filthy Rich Temptation
Coffee. Then shower. Then humanity once more.
‘I’m just going to speak to your mum a second…’
Oh no.Something in his tone to Lottie makes my stomach flip.
Is this it? The part where he tells me it was a mistake? That he’s sorry?
I’m nowhere near human enough to survive that.
Especially not while we’re standing in the exact spot where he…gulp.
I grab the biggest mug I can find and tug the coffee off the hotplate. My ears tingle as his footsteps approach. My spine too.
‘You sure you’re okay?’
He’s so close, I can feel his heat through my tee, his cologne threading through the steam rising off the coffee as I pour. It’s a heady mix that sends my lashes closing as I breathe in deeper.
‘Sadie?’
‘100 per cent!’ I chirp, plonking the carafe back. ‘Or I will be once these meds kick in and I’ve showered.’
I skirt around him to the fridge, letting my hair fall like a shield around my puffy face, but when I swing the door shut, he’s right there. Close. Brooding.
‘Jesus, Theo!’ I blurt, heart thudding.
‘Steady,’ he murmurs, catching my arm. His grip warm, gentle, sure. God, he looks good. Like, Coca-Cola advert, mouth-wateringly good. White tee, blue jeans, smelling of heaven… or sin, depending on where your head wants to go.
And me? I’m a walking ad for hownotto look after being gifted the best two orgasms of your life.
It probably wasn’t desire darkening his gaze.
More likely regret – the kind that follows clarity, daylight… and a gremlin sighting.
‘Promise me you’re okay.’
I force myself to meet his gaze and nod. Though the intensity in his eyes, the tightness at their corners… it isn’t me I’m worried about. ‘Are you?’
‘This isn’t about how I feel. It’s about howyoufeel. I thought I made that clear.’
My heart stumbles. He did. Abundantly. Twice.
And now, the way he says it – low, certain, fervent with care – it hits me in the chest, the stomach… lower.
Then his thumb starts to circle over my skin – dizzying, distracting, delectably divine…
‘Sadie?’
‘I promise you, I’m fine.’ I breathe. ‘More than fine…’
I lick my lips, and his eyes track the motion. His thumb stills. His mouth parts – an invitation or an impulse? Either way, I’m hooked and ready to plunder.
If I’d thought to brush my teeth, that is. Bugger.
‘Thank you,’ I say instead.
‘Thank you?’ he echoes, brow furrowing.
‘For last night.’
