Page 10 of A Little Harmless Pleasure

“I haven’t had too much to drink.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wobbled on the ledge of the bathtub, losing her balance, and almost falling backward. Chris stepped forward and grabbed her, pulling her up and saving her from the fall, but also spilling champagne on both of them.

She ended up against him, their wet clothes sticking to their skin, making it very easy to feel the contours of his sculpted muscles. Sighing in appreciation, she splayed her free hand against his chest. Her nipples pebbled beneath the damp fabric of her blouse. His breathing deepened. As she slid her hands up over his pecs, she felt his heart beating, fast and hard. She shifted her feet to stand in front of him, her stomach brushing his groin. She stilled, marveling at the rigid shaft pulsing against her. He groaned when she increased the pressure.

“Cynthia, you’re pushing me too far.”

She laughed with little humor. “I don’t think so, Chris.”

He stepped away from her, breaking contact. A rush of coolness swept over her skin, into her blood.

“I’m serious. You’re a beautiful woman, and you’ve had too much to drink, especially on a day you saw your ex get married.”

Frustration knotted the muscles in her belly because, once again, a man was telling her what she needed. She couldn’t win. Jesus, all she wanted was a night of anonymous sex with a man who interested her far more than was good for her. Living in the moment was something she had never done in her life, but she wanted it here. Now. And it had nothing to do with Max and everything to do with the man standing in front of her.

She settled her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Listen, the only thing I felt today was happiness for Anna and Max.”

“Even if you are happy for them, it had to hurt a little.”

The pity and understanding she heard in his voice, saw in his eyes, embarrassed her. And increased her agitation.

“Listen, I understand.” She grabbed her jacket and brushed past him, intent on finding her car keys and going to Anna’s. Her body still tingled with arousal, and her mind still spun from champagne, but she would not stay there and be humiliated. She stopped to shove her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. “Figures the one time I decide to do something like this, I get a jackass with morals. I can’t even pick men who are amoral. I have to pick a bloody saint.”

A sharp knock at the door stopped her tirade. Chris, who had followed her, answered the door without commenting. He stepped aside and allowed the waiter to bring in the tray. After the young man set it on the table in front of the window, he handed Chris the bill, which he signed. After thanking him, Chris closed the door and turned to face her.

“You were saying?”

She growled, which should have shocked her—a Myers never growled. But what shocked her more was the pleased look on Chris’s face.

“Nothing. Where are my keys?”

His gaze traveled down, and like before, she felt his attention as if his hands were on her skin. She could imagine his fingers trailing along her flesh, gliding over her breasts, his thumbs touching her nipples. Unwillingly, her body reacted. Her pulse jumped, her skin tingled where his gaze had touched, and the muscles in her stomach contracted. By the time he met her gaze, she was trying to resist the urge to wiggle to ease the pressure between her legs.

“You shouldn’t drive without having something to eat or at least some coffee. You need some time to sober up.”

She gritted her teeth, trying her best not to yell. Every man she had known in her life tried to tell her what to do. Even someone she’d planned on using for her one sexual thrill was giving her orders. Her whole being throbbed with desire so strong it surprised her that she didn’t pass out.

When she finally composed herself, her voice was low and threatening. “I. Said. Where. Are. My. Keys.”

He pursed his lips, and dammit, it made her want to kiss him, made her long to feel his mouth move over her flesh.

“In my pocket.”

She would have to be an idiot not to hear his New Orleans’ accent growing more pronounced. She could just imagine hearing that rumbled tone in the dark as he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

Not trusting herself to get too close, she held out her hand.

Chris, damn him, shook his head. “Come get them.” Challenge threaded his tone.

She blinked. This was not a good turn of events. “Excuse me?”

He straightened away from the door but made no move to approach her. Her gaze traveled down his body to his groin. Excitement lanced through her as she saw the state of his desire.

“I said to come and get them.”

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to do it. Her body pulsed with a strange mix of arousal and fear—strange because it was new to her. Most of the time, when confronted with a decision like this, she automatically did what was expected. For a woman brought up in the sterile environment of the Myers house, that would mean not taking him up on the challenge. But now, alone with Chris, she didn’t have to do what other people wanted. She could do whatshewanted.

“It’s not a major decision,Cynthia. Just slip your hand in my pocket and take them.” His lips curved.

He did that thing with her name again where he emphasized the first syllable. She knew part of it was seduction, part of it was challenge. And part of her thought maybe he was hoping a direct challenge would send her running away. Gathering her courage, she walked to him, stopping within inches of touching him. She tipped her head back, angling her chin in defiance.

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