Joss Wood - One Night, Two Consequences

Holy hell, she was playing with fire, she thought, staring at his strong, broad hand on her pale wrist. Unable to pull away from his touch, so simple and so devastating, she used her other hand to pick up her wine glass and lubricate her mouth.

‘So, how has your trip been so far?’

Same voice, but his eyes were on her mouth and the gunmetal-grey had turned smoky with passion. How could he keep his voice so smooth while she was a maelstrom of nerves and lust and attraction? Kiss me, already , she wanted to beg.

No begging allowed, Sensible Remy whispered in her ear.

‘Oh, I’m not on holiday … I’m a professional vagrant.’ That sounded better—a little breathy but there had been words in a sentence. Pretty impressive, really.

His thumb on her wrist stopped. Noooo!

‘Want to explain that?’ he asked.

She couldn’t. All she could think about was the effect he was having on her and her desire to get him naked, to have her hands on that warm, muscled, masculine flesh. There was no way to verbalise that three years ago she’d lived in New York, that her doctorate in computer science had landed her the position of youngest Chief Information Officer of a Fortune 500 company. Ever.

She’d had an apartment in Manhattan, worked eighty-hour weeks, had an ulcer the size of a fist and had been prone to panic attacks. She’d been discontented, unhappy, unfulfilled. Bitchy, demanding, impatient. She could never tell him that it had taken her landing up in hospital to realise that she was working herself to death. And for what? A fat pay cheque and her mother’s approval?

Could he even begin to understand why she’d given up everything because she hadn’t liked what she’d been doing or who she’d been doing it for? That she’d run? To Europe, and then Africa, Asia? And when she hadn’t found what she was looking for in foreign places—that nebulous, indefinable something that would make her life make sense—she’d come home to see if she could find it by travelling through her own country.

Seeing that he was still waiting for an answer, she shrugged and bit the inside of her lip. ‘I’ve been travelling for a long time.’

‘Why?’

She tipped her head and shoved her tongue in her cheek. ‘I’m trying to find myself—to work out why I do the things I do and make the choices I make.’

His lips quirked at her dramatic tone. ‘Any luck with that?’

‘Absolutely none,’ Remy replied in a mournful voice. And even while she was mocking herself she silently admitted that she was starting to become slightly concerned that she never would.

‘And how do you support yourself and your gas habit?’

That amazing thumb had resumed its rhythm on her wrist. She could no more pull her hand away than she could adjust the temperature of the sun.

Savings, investments, property … She’d worked so hard that she’d never had time to spend any of her ridiculously huge salary. She earned enough in interest and dividends and rental, and from the occasional virtual consulting job she took, to allow her to keep travelling for a long, long time. If she was really lucky she would find whatever it was that she was looking for soon—in Portland, maybe, or in the next town she visited.

‘When I need to I find work.’ There were always IT consulting projects popping into her inbox—some of which she took on, if they were interesting enough.

‘Doing …?’

‘This and that … I’m a hell of a cook—and, for the record, a really bad waitress.’

He laughed again and she felt her womb contract. Why was getting this hard-eyed, hard-bodied man to laugh such a kick? Such an incredible turn-on?

‘Good to know.’

‘So … what do you do?’

Bo lifted his eyebrows. ‘What do you think I do?’

The corners of his mouth lifted in a sexy little smile. Was he flirting? He was so contained that she couldn’t be sure, but she’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘I’ll play that game. Well, you look marginally intelligent,’ she teased. ‘Accountant?’

Bo pulled a face. ‘Ugh!’

She pulled a face too. ‘Lawyer?’

‘Double ugh !’

She tapped her finger against her lip. ‘So, not an accountant or a lawyer? I’d still say that you’re in management.’

‘Yeah.’

And she just knew that he was the top branch of a very tall tree. She couldn’t imagine him taking orders from anyone. He was too controlled, too alpha … not her type at all. As a long-term prospect, she clarified. Along with her career she’d also given up on love and her dreams of happy-ever-after with a nice man followed by a couple of kids. She’d finally— finally! —learnt that, despite what people said, love, trust and approval were conditional—very much dependent on what she delivered.

So three years and two months ago she’d stopped playing that game, and she now kept any new relationships simple. Most of them were transient and fleeting anyway, due to the fact that she was constantly on the move.

And this was pure sexual heat shimmering between her and Bo: passion, lust and incredible chemistry.

Remy lifted her head from watching his thumb on her wrist—so fascinating, so thrilling!—and her eyes slammed into his. She swallowed at the heat and passion rolling through them and sighed when Bo lifted his hand and that magical thumb brushed her full bottom lip.

‘So sexy,’ he muttered as his other hand gripped her thigh.

Remy looked down at his hand and could easily imagine those tanned fingers on her breast, that wide hand sliding over her hip, under her bottom, lifting her to him …

Then he leaned forward and his mouth touched hers … warm, wonderful. Remy, shocked and surprised and utterly turned on, had to grab at his biceps to keep from falling off her stool. Bo steadied her by holding her waist, and she could feel the ridges of his fingers through her thin cotton dress.

Remy held on to his wrists and, wanting more of his deliciousness, pressed her mouth back onto his. He tasted like whiskey and breath mints and his lips were a surprise. Warm, firm, dry … Confident. That word again. What he was to his core and what she only had a glossy, thin layer of…

His hand moved to her spine, kneading as he worked his way up to her bare shoulders, moved around to touch her face. His thumb skated over her cheekbone as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth.

Remy’s eyes flew open at the bolt of lust that spiked through her. Where had that come from? She couldn’t remember when last she’d been kissed with such mastery, such complete and utter self-assurance.

She wanted more of this—more of him. Now. Tonight. One night of passion with a man she knew would rock her world.

Grabbing every last bit of courage she had, she made herself pull back from him, determined to be sensible just for a minute.

‘This sounds like an extraordinarily personal question, and I know you can lie when you answer but I hope you don’t. Are you married? Involved?’

Apart from those hot, tumultuous eyes, he looked as calm and collected as before. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he drained his drink. ‘No.’

‘Good.’ Remy nodded. ‘It’s one of my little rules.’ She shrugged a slim shoulder and forced herself to say the words. ‘Been tested lately?’

Bo remained unruffled. ‘Yep. I’m good.’

‘Me too, but I’d still expect you to use a condom.’

‘Noted.’

‘Okay, then.’

Remy, hoping, praying, that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life, stood up and draped her black leather bag over her slim shoulder. She was as nervous as hell—couldn’t believe that she’d had the … well, the courage to do this. Knowing that laughter would loosen the tension between them, she deliberately looked down at his feet before flashing him a naughty grin.

‘You know what they say about men with big feet. Want to prove that to me?’

His shout of laughter had more than a few customers looking their way.

Yeah, laugh, cutie, Remy thought as they left the bar. You sound amazing.

‘You okay?’

Bo’s voice rumbled across her skin and Remy nodded, rubbing her head against his shoulder.

‘Wonderful, thanks.’

And she genuinely was. Sleeping with Bo was nothing like the last one-night stand she’d had, and she was thrilled that it was so much more. There were no regrets this time—no feelings of guilt, no resentment at not being satisfied.

She felt relaxed and calm and, weirdly, safe.

She’d hit the one-night stand jackpot, Remy thought on an internal smile. Very good-looking, and his body, under those sharp threads, was droolworthy. Long, lean muscles, ripped abs, broad shoulders … And he smelled divine.

He was the best lover she’d ever had by a million miles. Sex with Bo had been fun and, strangely for an ONS, a little romantic. That had never happened to her before. With all her previous lovers her mind, ever analytical, had always ruled and she’d never allowed herself to fall into that space where she stopped thinking and just enjoyed. But instead of the fast and furious she’d expected, Bo had spent long, luscious minutes worshipping her body, allowing her to do the same to him. It had made what should have been a quick encounter deeper, more personal … softer.

Why was it that the one man who’d managed to show her how sex should be, who had been able to satisfy her beyond anything she’d believed possible, was the man she’d never see again?

Remy watched as Bo raised his wrist and looked at the bright dial of his watch, the roman numerals visible in the nearly dark room. This was it. In fifteen minutes—maybe twenty—he would slip out of her bed and then out of her life. She shouldn’t want a little more time with him but she did: just an hour, or a day or two, here in this magical town.

Remy brushed her hand through the light, crisp layer of hair on Bo’s chest. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder before succumbing to the urge to bury her face in his strong neck, silently asking him to stay exactly where he was. She’d barely finished the thought when she felt the tap of his fingers against her hip, and she pulled her head back to look at him.

‘I must go. I have to be up in a couple of hours.’

Remy sat up and managed a small smile as he swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m leaving early too.’

He reached behind him and squeezed her calf. ‘I’m not going to ask you where you’re going because I might be tempted to follow. I had a great time.’

Remy, holding the sheet up above her breasts, risked placing her hand on his shoulder and turned her intended caress into a quick pat. ‘Me too. I thought we’d spontaneously combust that first time.’

His deep, sexy chuckle danced across her bare skin. ‘We shouldn’t have started kissing in the lift. We gave that other couple quite an eyeful.’

Remy frowned, confused. ‘There was another couple in the lift?’

Bo stood up and pulled his boxers on. Placing his hands on his hips, he looked down at her, his mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘Yeah, there was.’

Remy tossed her head and didn’t break contact with his mesmerising eyes. They were the most amazing shade of grey, edged with a ring of black. ‘Well, sorry … I was kind of distracted.’

His eyes deepened and looked smoky again. ‘I like the fact that I can make you lose track of your surroundings.’