Page 7 of The Wrong Promise

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Why? Because I also deserve to be happy when around me, my friends’ lives are exploding with excitement. Their lives are one continual fireworks show, and I can’t even crack a spark of fun. I’m living vicariously through their joy, and I want a turn. Even better, an adventure. And I damn well deserve it.”

Jobe picks up his cell and taps away as I give him specifics. “Do you want me to hit send on the email?”

I lean on the bar and look him in the eye. “London,” I murmur, pondering the idea.

He walks around the bar and stands between my thighs,holding the cell close to my face. “Read it. If you’re happy, then press send.”

I skim over the words.Wow.He highly recommends me. I raise my hand, and he yanks his cell away.

“Promise me you’re making a decision based onyourhappiness and not running from something else.”

“Why are you doing this and being so nice to me?”

“I’m in the business of helping people attain their needs.”

We consider each other for a moment. Is he talking about other things?

“Zara?” He holds his cell closer. “I’ll delete it if you’re not sure.”

“It’s what I want.” I hit send and scream. Then I throw my arms around his neck and hug him. “I could kiss you.”

“Have you forgotten how?”

Why would he say that? Oh, I mentioned the lack of dating earlier.

Our eyes lock, and there’s a surge of heat in my chest. My arms loosen around his neck. Tonight, I’m drunk and up for the challenge because a girl never forgetshowto kiss. Only what it feels like. “Of course not,” I murmur and edge closer to his lips. I pause and glance up at his eyes, which tell me he feels something too.

My lips gently brush with his, the movement slow and even. His facial hair bushes my mouth, and it ignites something deep, my pussy clenching, appreciating I’m with a man. Suddenly, we are lip-locked, his hand on the back of my head as his tongue darts in and finds mine. There’s no escape. I moan as desire rips through my body. It’s been too long, and right now, my body wants action regardless of who it is with.

I pull away, breathless, only for a moment before Jobestraightens, and I cling like a monkey, my legs wrapping around his waist. I’m enjoying this more than I should.

The softness of his mouth, the taste of whiskey and champagne on his tongue, and the way he kisses make me breathless. An equal measure of desperate longing and desire.

Lust. It has been too long, my friend.

His voice is dangerously low. “You taste fucking good.”

My stupid heart reacts again, beating erratically. More to his warm skin surrounding mine than to him.Jobe.Pushing the thought aside, I allow my hands to roam, feeling every hard muscle beneath my fingertips.

“It’s a pity you’re not my type,” I whisper.

He pulls back.

Reality hits, and I can’t help feeling the disappointment of space between us as I slide down his body to find my feet.

“And you’re not mine,” he says softly. “If we were a thing, I’d have invited one or two other guests to join us. Regrettably, I cleared all bookings for Penny to have the place to herself.”

Ugh. The man is an animal in bed...

My brain finally catches up. “I’m the possessive type and extremely jealous. You would never be happy with someone like me.I don’t share.” Maybe that’s my problem. Am I too much for men?

“Your words don’t scare me, Zara.”

I’m staring at his lips, afraid to meet his gaze, knowing what I would find if I did.

“I’m not trying to scare you. I’m warning you. You would not enjoy being with someone like me.”

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