Page 55 of Royal Flush

“Not a vegemite sandwich?”

Now I was the one to wrinkle my nose. “Have you ever eaten that crap?”

As he burst into laughter, another twinge of need hit me. “I can’t say I have.”

“Let me give you a hint. Don’t.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What else,” I said before taking a sip of my wine. “I know. What did you want to be when you grew up? A kink club owner?”

“Hardly. I wanted to be an architect but when you’re born into the family I was, you are required to gravitate toward the family business. Thankfully, my older brother enticed me to take the various exams needed to become a financial advisor, our younger brother realizing how much money could be made off rich people.”

“You’re rich.”

“Yes, but I’m insatiable.” He leaned further over the table, cocking that sexy head of his.

“Yes, I think you are. Are you truly sadistic?”

“I am.”

“Hmmm… I’ll keep that in mind.”

He took a deep breath and it felt as if I wasn’t even wearing the robe. “You should do that. Perhaps we’ll have more time to explore your dark needs.”

“Perhaps.” We’d had many awkward moments settling between us but this seemed overheated. Enough so a tiny bead of perspiration trickled down the back of my neck. My hair was even still damp from the shower, the quick makeup I’d applied barely hiding the girl underneath. Not that he seemed to mind. I wanted the man but what good would it do to become even more involved? I allowed the tips of my fingers to slide down the side of my neck into the bodice of my robe. I couldn’t seem to help myself, enticing him as if we were a couple.

“Bad girl,” he whispered and took another sip of his drink.

“I thought you figured that out.”

“I did. Trust me.” He appeared more thoughtful, perhaps thinking about fun questions he could ask me. “One more question. Do you know the name Jameson Bishop?”

Just like that, the man could turn a good time into a grilling session. I jerked back from the table, tossing my napkin onto the table as I stood. “You just can’t quit. Can you? All this protection mode is a joke to you, allowing you information about my father that you’ll use against him and I have no idea why. Well, I want no part of it.”

I’d managed to turn around, determined to head to the bedroom I’d been assigned when he snagged my arm as he’d done before, only this time he swung me around, taking long strides and shoving me hard against the window.

When he cupped my face, his grip firmer than it had been before, I issued an involuntary moan before I could stop it. “Don’t do that, Jasmine.”

“Don’t do what? Call you on the carpet for pretending to give a shit?”

“Have you stopped to think that maybe I do give a shit? I was beside myself when you left, furious but terrified of what you might get yourself into.” He had the nerve to grind his hips back and forth. Did sparring together always make him hard?

“You’re a user.” I did my best to drive him away, but he was a total immoveable object.

“And you’re a con artist.” He was finished with our discussion, crushing his mouth over mine.

I was shell shocked at first, unable to move at all. As much as I still wanted to push him away, I couldn’t. The desire we shared was incredible, so much so I slipped one arm around his neck, curling my fingers in his hair. The kiss immediately became frantic, ripped with passion and need. I’d thought his kisses before were intense.

This one was off the charts. He had a way of making me lightheaded instantly, pushing my boundaries and my hunger to a crazy level. I found myself tearing at his shirt, even ripping buttons in my effort to touch his heated skin. As soon as I managed, I moaned into the kiss. He could truly make me crazier than any man I’d ever known but I wanted him.

Bad.

He seemed to feel the same, creating enough space between us he was able to untie the sash on my robe, jerking the material from my shoulders. As soon as he tugged it away, the fact I was standing naked in front of a wide-open window hit me hard, even though no one could see a thing.

Maybe he could read my tastes and needs better than I’d thought, dominating my tongue in such a way I was aching all over within seconds. I did the same thing with his shirt, fighting to pull it free of his thick arm muscles. As soon as I did, just being able to brush my fingers down both arms created a wave of electricity between us that could easily light up the Big Apple.

There was no stopping our passion, the longing getting the best of us. Foes or friends, it didn’t matter at this moment. He had been right in that enemies made the best lovers. I fought deftly this time to unbuckle his belt, still drinking in his rich scent, wanting my body to be covered with his fragrance as well as his cum.

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