Читать книгу The Dare Collection: March 2018 - Nicola Marsh - Страница 22

CHAPTER TWELVE

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‘FLOUR STOCKS ARE LOW—same with sugar and butter. We’ve got a flood of orders coming in that haven’t been catalogued. And the front display cabinet looks like something a toddler arranged. What the hell’s going on?’

I glowered at Abby, hating the flicker of resentment in those stunning blue eyes that had been filled with passion only two days ago.

I’d been riding her—metaphorically, worse luck—ever since I’d arrived at seven this morning. But I had to keep it up, had to keep emotional distance between us, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her.

Walking in this morning and having her fix me with that cool blue indifferent gaze, like nothing had happened between us, made me want to bend her over the counter and thrust into her until sweet, sensual Abby was back.

I liked that Abby. Liked her willing and wanton and wet. Desperate for me.

But I liked that Abby too much—too much to be good for me—and therein lay the problem.

So I’d donned my poker face and reflected her indifference right back at her. Though it was an act. A forced act we were both perpetuating in the hope neither of us would crack.

I’d known it would be like this. That she would pretend like nothing had happened. Hell, she’d made it painfully obvious she didn’t want me ever since we’d met, her disdain palpable. Which only served to dent my ego and make me want to rattle her all the more.

It was like some weird twisted game we were playing. Push and pull. A battle of wills. Too bad for her, I’d never backed down from a challenge in my life. I could out-stubborn a donkey. Because I’d learned from an early age that the only way to cope with Dad’s derogatory crap was with indifference.

He’d hated it. I’d done it more. He’d never made me crack. Nobody could. I’d become too hardened, too cynical, too tough.

Too tough for the likes of Abby, that was for sure.

I’d ultimately break her and that wouldn’t be good. For her, for Remy, maybe for me too.

Though I was a big boy, I could take it. But Remy would hate me for running off his golden girl and I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t care what other people thought of me. Anyone except Remy. His opinion mattered. He mattered. He always had.

So I’d keep up this ridiculous charade no matter how much I wanted Abby.

‘I’ll get Makayla to check the orders and the front display. As for supplies, today’s delivery is late. It happens sometimes.’ She glared at me like something she’d stepped in. A particularly nasty something that stuck to her shoe no matter how hard she tried to wipe it off. ‘I’ll go check in the storeroom. We usually stock extras for emergencies.’

‘Fine,’ I muttered through gritted teeth, feeling like an ogre as I watched her retreating back and her ass.

I couldn’t help it. Remembering the soft curve of her cheeks. The way they felt beneath my hands. How she’d squealed when I’d bitten her.

She paused at the door to the storeroom and glanced over her shoulder.

Damn, sprung, as I dragged my gaze upward but not fast enough.

With a raised eyebrow, she said, ‘If your foul mood is a result of what happened between us and you’re feeling awkward, forget it.’ Her gaze turned glacial. ‘I have.’

I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d flipped me the bird as she stalked into the storeroom and slammed the door.

‘Fuck.’ I dragged a hand through my hair and resisted the urge to kick the nearest counter.

I should leave her to her snit in peace. But that was the thing about never backing down; I couldn’t stop my feet from following her even if I wanted to. And I didn’t. I wanted her to take back that last remark.

She hadn’t forgotten our steamy encounter any more than I had. So she must’ve thrown it out there in hurt.

And I hadn’t wanted to hurt her.

I’d apologise for acting like a jackass. Smooth the way towards a better working relationship. Yeah, that was the plan.

A plan that imploded the moment I entered the storeroom and saw her braced against a table, chest heaving, eyes flashing, chin tilted up in defiance.

‘Get out,’ she yelled, her hands balling into fists, and she thumped the table.

In response, I kicked the door shut.

Locked it.

‘Don’t you dare come near me,’ she said, not moving a muscle as I advanced on her. She squared her shoulders the closer I got, staring me down. Even when we stood almost toe to toe, she didn’t flinch. ‘You’re a boorish, idiotic, moody—’

My mouth slammed onto hers. Our teeth clashed a little, our noses bumped. A disastrous kiss from an experienced guy like me but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything but savouring the sweetness of her mouth again. Taunting her tongue to match mine. Exploring the crevices of her mouth like I’d never get enough.

Her hands clutched at my shirt, like she wanted to push me away. She hauled me closer, clawing at the cotton, wanting skin.

I knew the feeling.

At my apartment two nights ago, I’d worshipped her body. Taken my time. A leisurely exploration that had imprinted on my brain. Every dip and curve. Every ticklish spot. Every erogenous inch that I’d licked and stroked and caressed until she’d been mindless with want.

Now there was no time for finesse.

‘Hurry up,’ she growled in my ear, nipping at the tender skin below it, her teeth grazing my skin with short, sharp nibbles before she licked her way along my jaw towards my mouth.

Sensual Abby was back and I couldn’t be happier.

I made short work of her zipper. Pushed her panties down. And slid my finger into moist heat.

‘More,’ she murmured, and I was only too happy to acquiesce to her demand.

I fished a condom out of my wallet, unzipped and sheathed myself in record time.

I had to be inside her. Now.

With her pants around her ankles, I couldn’t spread her legs wide so I spun her around and bent her over the table.

Exposing that gorgeous ass.

‘You like doing it doggy style, don’t you?’ I slid a hand around the front, fingering her clit as I nudged at her slick folds. ‘Two times the other night.’

‘Too much talking.’ She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes flashing indigo fire, taunting me.

I entered her in a smooth thrust that made her gasp.

‘Better?’ I whispered, leaning over her, making our fit even snugger.

She moaned in response and wiggled her ass.

She wanted more? I’d give it to her.

I slid in and out. Slow at first. Wanting to drive her as mad as she drove me. But I couldn’t hang on. Not when I’d been fantasising about this for the last two days. Not when she felt better than I remembered.

My cock pulsed with every thrust, the pressure building, and my finger picked up tempo on her clit until she was pushing back at me as hard as I was pushing into her.

‘So good...’ She stiffened, a moment before she let out a long, satisfied groan, as her pussy clenched around me.

I came so hard I saw spots.

This time, when she glanced over her shoulder at me, her smile was smug. Satisfied. I knew the feeling.

‘Hope that puts you in a better mood,’ she said, straightening a little so I had no option but to pull out and take care of business.

‘We shouldn’t have done that.’

I knew it had been the wrong thing to say when her face fell, but she masked it quickly with a fake smile I was growing to hate.

‘Seems like we shouldn’t do a lot of things that are bad for us, like eating leftover croissants, but we do it anyway.’

She sounded flippant but I heard the hurt lacing her words.

Damn, I’d done it again. Caused her pain when it was never my intention.

‘Look, we need to talk this out—’

‘From where I’m standing, there wasn’t much talking involved, just the way I wanted it.’ She pulled up her pants and zipped up, elegant and nonchalant, whereas I felt gauche doing the same thing. ‘We don’t need to talk about anything.’

She spun away from me and I grabbed her hand, tugging her back to face me. ‘I’ve handled this badly and I’m sorry. But we do have to work this out, Abby, otherwise it’s going to be a tough few weeks.’

To her credit, she eyeballed me, trying to stare me down. ‘What are you really sorry for? Being a douche the whole day or not being able to keep your hands off me?’

She packed a punch. I liked that. Liked straight shooting.

‘Both.’

To my relief, I saw the corners of her mouth twitch. A mouth I remembered doing wicked things to me a few nights ago and just like that I was hard again, ready and raring to go.

‘You don’t have to apologise for the...sex.’ Damn, she was cute when she blushed. ‘I like it. In fact, I think we should keep doing it.’

‘Pardon me?’

I could’ve sworn she’d just said we should keep having sex. Nice in practice, terrible in theory.

‘A fling. Short term. No strings.’ She eased her hand out of mine before I could react. ‘It’ll be good for me. Purging my past once and for all.’

Bitterness made my jaw clench. So that was all I was. A fuckable solution to her yearlong celibacy. A way to get back on the proverbial horse. I should be flattered. Instead, all I could think was how I’d never been good enough growing up and I wasn’t good enough now for anything more than a short-term fling.

Every guy’s dream, having a woman articulate no-strings sex. In reality, how often did it turn out that way? Women tended to want more. More emotion. More commitment. More.

But Abby seemed different. She hadn’t been mooning around all day. She’d been nonchalant. All business. Like she didn’t give a shit I’d been a grouchy ogre determined to keep her at bay.

So maybe she meant it when she said a no-strings fling. I should be ecstatic. Instead, I couldn’t help but feel like yet again I’d come up short somehow. A hollow, empty feeling I’d spent years trying to conquer courtesy of dear old Dad’s shabby treatment.

‘So I’d be your walk on the wild side? Slumming it before you head back to the real world?’

Guilt shifted in her gaze before she shook her head. ‘We’re very different, so, yeah, part of the appeal is that bad-boy edge you’ve got going on. But I like you.’ Her blush was back, staining her cheeks a vivid pink. ‘I never knew sex could be that good, so call me greedy but I want more.’

Defiant, she took a step towards me and placed her hand on my chest. ‘A lot more.’

I gritted my teeth against the urge to bend her over the table again. ‘Just sex. No muss, no fuss?’

‘I’m not a muss, fuss kind of girl.’ She lowered her hand, using it to gesture around the storeroom. ‘This place is my life. I want to complete my apprenticeship, become fully qualified, gain as much experience as I can with your brother, save like the devil and hopefully have my own patisserie one day. So you and me? A side benefit I’d never anticipated, but no way would I let it interfere with my dream.’

‘Fair enough.’

She’d said all the right things. Talked the talk. But when it came to ending things, would she walk the walk?

‘What about Remy?’

Confusion creased her brow. ‘What about him?’

‘My brother will bust my balls for tangling with you.’

‘Does he have to know?’

‘We don’t bullshit each other. He’s always had my back and I owe him.’

Damn, why had I spilled that? I should keep my distance. Sex, I could handle, but there was something about Abby that snuck beneath my defences and made me want to confide. Disconcerting when I’d never told anyone the truth, not even Remy.

Another side effect of putting up with Dad’s shit for so long: I was ashamed. Ashamed of who I was around him, ashamed of the years I’d tolerated his crap, ashamed at the possibility of anyone ever finding out how much of a goddamn coward I’d been.

‘I admire your loyalty.’ She tilted her head, studying me with that penetrating stare that made me squirm a little. ‘Family should stick together.’

The slight quiver in her voice, underlined with a healthy dose of vulnerability, slayed me. ‘What about you? Any siblings?’

‘No.’

One syllable laced with unspoken pain.

‘Hence my parents’ high expectations of me. Which also explains why they cut me off the first and only time I went against their wishes.’ Her harsh laugh was devoid of amusement. ‘Didn’t matter that I didn’t want a princess party as a ten-year-old. Or a formal ball for my sixteenth. Or to do a business degree.’ Her breath hitched. ‘Or to marry a guy more a friend at twenty-one. I always did the right thing. The expected thing. Until I walked away.’

She cleared her throat. ‘I envy you your bond with Remy.’

‘Don’t ever envy me,’ I said, sounding gruff. ‘Remy and I are close from necessity.’

Curiosity sparked her eyes. ‘What does that mean?’

Shit. There I went again, giving away too much.

‘Nothing.’ I made a big show of glancing at my watch. ‘We need to get back out there.’

Other women would’ve badgered me for answers. Thankfully, Abby had more class. Or she really was serious about keeping things between us strictly physical.

‘You’re right.’ She hesitated, a shy smile making something in my chest twang. ‘After we finish work, do you want to come up to my apartment? I make a mean fettuccini carbonara.’

I should say no. Because Abby wasn’t just inviting me up for pasta and we both knew it. But she’d been honest in asking for what she wanted, blunt in outlining the terms. Considering how much of a jackass I’d been today, dealing with my rampaging lust for her and not being able to have her, I’d be better off agreeing to her very adult arrangement than having another few frustration-filled weeks.

‘I am partial to pasta.’ I stepped in close and rested my hand on her waist, my thumb strumming the sliver of bare skin beneath her pants and shirt. ‘And you.’

‘Good. Glad that’s settled.’ She kissed me on the cheek, a surprisingly sweet gesture that made my chest tighten again.

But as I unlocked the door and followed her back to the kitchen, I knew deep down that things between us were far from settled.

It scared the crap out of me.