Page 60 of Lucky Puck

The look of shocked horror, then humiliation on her face is going to stay with me forever, but I turn away quickly and push myself out of bed.

“Please don’t go, don’t leave things… like this.” Her voice is strained with sadness, but there’s resignation underneath preventing the threat of tears.

Turning back to face her, I sit on the edge of the bed because she has a point. She deserves a full explanation no matter how sick to my stomach the idea of handling her tangled emotions makes me. I caused her disappointment and feelings of rejection, and that makes me feel as if I’m now trying to literally handle her guts after ripping them out.

But we need to come to an understanding, one not confused by our lust-haze for both our sakes.

“Sugar pie, you don’t want to toy with me. I’m not good enough for you. I’m the guy who doesn’t believe in love or marriage, remember?”

She sniffs once and then rolls her eyes. I almost laugh because that’s so Brooks.

“Don’t give me that cliché. I don’t need you to be noble on my behalf. I’m a big girl and I absolutely want to toy with you. Why shouldn’t I? I’m a red-blooded woman, not a virgin saint.” She heaves a sigh.

“What about our professional relationship and the fake marriage deal?” I want to ask her what Jett would think, but he doesn’t have a right to know about her personal life. Or mine.

“I’ve thought about all that and I’ve concluded that the chance to toy with you could be the best part of this marriage charade. I’m a hundred percent in favor of it. And if you haven’t noticed, I’m really, really looking forward to it.”

My grin is the kind of reflexive reaction that I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, like a knee jerk in response to a rubber hammer.

She adds, “Forget whatever I said before. I was… afraid.”

My brows rise. “Afraid?” That raises a new level of concern.

She waves a hand. “Forget I said that too. Forget everything before now.” Her eyes glitter with honest bald desire. “Please.”

If her heartfelt plea didn’t undo me, the breathy way she says it would. Either way, she doesn’t wait for my answer.

She proceeds to do a damn good job of taking things into her own hands to solve the problem in a typical Brooks can-do move. Launching herself at me, she wraps her arms around me, pushing me down to the mattress and straddling me.

“What the fuck?” I’m half laughing, stunned at her determination. I’m also turned on, and my dick goes as hard as the Hope diamond when she wiggles her hips against it. I let out an involuntary groan.

She giggles and leans closer, bringing her face to mine for a kiss, then stops. She hovers a whisper away. We both lie still, and I wait for her to say what’s on her mind, but we stare at each other, breathing, and for an instant, my stomach feels like it’s been sucked hollow.

Is it possible she’s run out of steam or bravery or whatever fueled her bold rebellion against good sense?

Taking hold of her, I roll over and pin her under me. The bedclothes are tangled around her, but I can still feel her heat and the give of her flesh under my hands as I move them along her curves.

Nuzzling her neck because I can’t resist the temptation, I whisper, “Do you have any idea how hot and hard you’ve made me, Brooks?”

“I think I have some idea.” She moves her hips against me.

I hold in my groan this time, but my control is on the edge, and letting go of another groan will send me over.

I clench my jaw. “Take it easy, Brooks,” I rasp the words and grip her hips to still her, counting backwards from a hundred as if I’m about to go under, anything to distract my cock and retrieve some control.

“A quick slam isn’t what I have in mind for us. I want to watch you come at least twice before I lose it.”

“Twice?” Her voice squeaks with doubt, but her eyes gleam. Then she licks her lips, and I squeeze my eyes shut. It does no good. I can’t unsee the sexy image of her pink tongue running over her plump lips. “Shit.”

“Are you okay?” She sounds concerned for real, and I laugh.

“I’m too okay, but don’t you worry about it.” I nibble her ear, and then with superhuman effort—no exaggeration—I push myself off her.

She reaches for me, trying to hold on. “I thought you said two⁠—”

I smile and tense my muscles to hold back while everything in me is screaming to go full throttle because her eagerness is so fucking hot.

“I need to ask you one last time, honey pants,” I rasp, sounding too much like I want to ravage her. I soften my voice, “Are you sure?”