Page 9 of Bad Boy Done Wrong
She broke under the pressure of all that thoughtfulness. “Well?”
He met her eyes with a bemused expression. “That is the sweetest most confusing naughty list I’ve ever seen.”
“Have you read others?”
“No.” He stroked her arm, apparently trying to soothe her, but his touch was anything but soothing.
“Maybe it would be less confusing in the right context.”And with two glasses of wine in her.
“You mean in bed?”
“Mmm-hmm.”Don’t feel him up.
His hand trailed lower, encircling her wrist, his thumb brushing across the sensitive underside. “What does top floor mean?”
“Ah, yes, top floor,” she said in a breathy voice, unable to focus because he kept stroking her wrist, which had suddenly become an erogenous zone she had no idea existed.
His voice dropped to a low rumble by her ear, giving her a hot shiver. “Give me a hint. Top floor?”
She stared straight ahead before whispering, “Like I’m on top.” At his silence, she took a deep breath and met his eyes.
His brows scrunched together. “Am I the floor? No, wait. Better question, you’ve never been on top?”
“My ex, Edward, was very traditional. Man on top except for my time of the month when he wanted me to service him in another way.”
His fingers tightened on her wrist. “Which way?”
She lifted one shoulder up and down. “Hand or mouth.”
He dropped her wrist. “Who got to pick?”
“I did, but I knew he liked mouth better so…” She shrugged.
“And you were with this guy how long?”
“Six years.”
“And before him?”
“Just him. My one and only.”
“Carrie.” He dragged out her name. So much wrapped in one word—concern, desire, protection.
“What?” she asked softly.
“You’re practically an innocent. I can’t in good conscience let you run around showing random guys this list.”
She scowled. “You don’t get a say in this! It’s my life and I’m done playing it safe.” She grabbed her purse and glared at him. “And don’t you dare chase me in your sexy tartan boxers or try that primal caveman move because it won’t work this time. You’ve pissed me off and I don’t get pissed off easily. I’m usually very sweet and even-tempered.”
She stood and headed to the door, a little surprised he wasn’t following her. He’d seemed so determined before. She reached the door, hand on the knob, and something made her look over her shoulder. He sat there, studying her like everything she did was fascinating. No one ever looked at her like she was interesting at all. She usually blended into the background. “Well, goodbye.”
“I’m not looking for a relationship.”
She turned to face him fully. “I didn’t ask you for one. Geez, that’s the last thing I want after my toxic pseudo-marriage.” Honestly, she felt nauseous just thinking about being trapped in another relationship. What if she lost herself again?
At his continued silent staring, she added, “Why do you think I picked you up in a bar, bad boy? Hint: it wasn’t for conversation.”
He let out something alarmingly close to a feral growl. She sucked in air, simultaneously wary and turned on.
