Page 14 of Highest Bid

“An Australian who hates Vegemite.” She crunched on her toast, thoroughly enjoying it. “How bizarre.”

He shook his head. “Not bizarre at all.” He leaned over and sucked the tip of her breast through her nightgown. Her nipple instantly beaded as she arched her back with a little cry of pleasure. He grinned and moved downward. “I also have exotic and refined tastes.”

“Oh?” she squeaked.

She’d foregone wearing panties, and his grin turned wolfish as he parted her folds and tongued her clit. “Mm. I love eating your pussy.”

She discarded her toast to curl her fingers in his hair. “Why am I suddenly glad you don’t like Vegemite?” she gasped.

He flicked his tongue, making her squirm. He loved that she got off so easily. Just a few more lashes of his tongue and she vibrated beneath him, crying out his name like a benediction.

She was nothing short of a siren, alluring, yet somehow dangerous. And he couldn’t be more intrigued if he tried.

Tasting every last drop of her vanilla-musk essence, he moved back up, his hard cock scraping against her thighs, her belly. He gathered her in his arms, but seeing her eyelids droop and her whole body go limp, he ignored his needs to murmur in her ear, “Go to sleep now, firecracker.”

She didn’t need much convincing. Within minutes she’d dozed off, while Galan lay wide awake.

Night two with Layla and already a part of him knew he was in too deep. He’d kept his emotions buried under work and play, and now those same raw sentiments were lurking too close to the surface, awaiting exposure.

He exhaled roughly, annoyed by the crippling bout of self-doubt. Sleeping with a woman more than once didn’t mean he was chained for life. He’d enjoy the best sex of his life for a few more days at most, then they’d both move on.

He turned his head a little, and inhaled Layla’s now familiar, intoxicating scent. Sweet pea and tangerine with a sexy hint of vanilla. She could have anyone she wanted. And once Galan was out of the picture, another man would step in fast.

His arms tightened around her and, suddenly, a few more days didn’t seem anywhere near long enough. With a heavy sigh, Galan finally succumbed to sleep.

Chapter Six

Layla smiled when she sensed Galan behind her even before she heard his tread on the floorboards. Ignoring the bacon frying in the pan on the stove, she turned as his arms surrounded her, and she stretched her own arms up and around his nape while standing on tiptoe.

“Morning, firecracker,” he said throatily.

“Morning, stud.”

His dark eyes lit up with amusement. “Stud? Guess I can live with that.”

She arched her brows. “As long as it’s only me you’re servicing.”

The humor in his gaze died, his body stiffening under her hands. “Layla—”

“Don’t,” she interjected quickly, her teeth becoming a clench with her now-forced smile. “I don’t need you to remind me of our...transient affair.” She unlatched her hands from his nape and nodded toward the table. “If you don’t mind grabbing some orange juice from the fridge, I’m nearly done here.”

His brows pulled in, before he finally nodded and said quietly, “Of course.”

She tore her stare away from his imposing physique. He’d dressed back into his clothes from last night, and his formal attire made her cut-off shorts, oversized black T-shirt, and bare feet positively drab in comparison. She was only surprised he’d come back to her for seconds.

She rubbed at her nape before she turned back to the stove and put another frypan onto the heat. Adding butter to the pan, she deftly cracked some eggs into a bowl, followed by a splash of milk and a pinch of salt. Giving the mix a quick whisk, she added the liquid into the frypan and gently scraped the bottom with a spatula.

When Galan moved behind her once again, his arms sliding around her waist, this time she didn’t move, didn’t speak. Not when it felt so damn right, as though his arms belonged there...just like he belonged in her home. Her sanctuary.

Her chest tightened. She was seriously losing the plot. He’d just reminded her about his commitment issues, and here she was deluding herself into believing he was the missing cog in her wheel of life.

Except she’d come this far, and she wasn’t about to give up on him now. Not when there was even a glimmer of hope he wanted something more from her than just amazing sex.

His arms tightened slightly, as though he sensed her anxiety. “Layla, I’d never deliberately hurt you.”

She slashed at the eggs that were thickening up nicely in the pan. He’d issued yet another warning about their relationship. He mightn’t deliberately hurt her, but she’d break inside if he walked out of her life...and straight into his bedroom with another woman.

“I know that.” It wasn’t like Galan had ever pretended their affair would be long-lasting. He’d bid for her, end of story. That he’d wanted another night with her was just a bonus. Even now, her pussy, her whole damn body, was deliciously aching and sore.

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