Page 62 of One Bed

The pain in her eyes told him how committed she’d been to the relationship, how much it hurt when it ended. ‘How long were you together?’

‘A few years,’ she admitted.

Huh, talking about her ex was an excellent way to make the blood drain out of his cock. Good to know.

‘Why did you split up?’ he asked, conscious of the burning sensation in his gut. Was that jealousy? He couldn’t be sure since it wasn’t an emotion he was familiar with. He didn’t get jealous, firstly because he never cared enough, and secondly because he thought it was a waste of time and energy. But Bea made him feel new things …strangethings.

She also had him asking questions, questions he’d refuse to answer if they were directed at him.

‘Let me think … maybe because he was a man-child, a serial cheat, a terrible partner and someone who couldn’t hold down a job.’

He relaxed at her description of her ex. He was a fully functioning adult, he had a decent job, and he only slept with one woman at a time. He had no idea what type of husband he’d be, but since he believed in equal effort from both parties, he didn’t think he’d be awful at it. Not that he intended to check himself into that institution, he didn’t have the time or the energy. Or the courage.

‘Is that all?’ he teased her, wanting her to lose the pinched skin between her eyebrows. ‘Don’t you think your expectations are a bit high?’

She pushed her big toe into his ribs and handed him a reluctant grin. ‘Anyway, Golly thinks I should be out there sowing my wild oats. She’s disappointed at how staid and boring I am.’

He bent his head to kiss her sexy big toe. He lifted his eyes to hers, still holding her foot. ‘You’re anything but boring, Bea. That being said, I am happy to help you sow some of those oats for as long as I am in Santorini.’

That was sensible, right? He couldn’t promise her anything more. This was a holiday fling, a way to have a little fun.

‘So we’re having an affair, Gib?’ Bea quietly asked.

She didn’t play games and he liked that. ‘I think fling is a better word,’ he corrected her. ‘I’m single, and as I’ve said a few times, I intend to remain that way.’

Bea swung her legs off his thighs and placed her feet on the grass. She gripped the edge of the bench and turned her head sideways to meet his eyes. ‘I’d love to keep having a fling with you, Gib. As long as Golly hasn’t forced or manipulated you into it.’

Nobody forced him to do anything, ever. Not in business and not in his private life. ‘This is between you and me, and our attraction. Let’s leave your godmother, and anything and everything else out of it, OK?’

She grinned. ‘Gladly.’ She pushed her toes into the grass and shifted down the bench to move closer to him. Her thigh rested gently against his, and her small shoulder pushed into his arm.

‘Sex with you is, God …amazing. I can’t stop thinking about it,’ she said, and her husky voice shot blood back into his cock. Harder than before, he shifted, trying to get comfortable.

How would it feel to take her here? Now? Her back to his front, her hands gripping the back of the bench, her lovely butt in the air and his thick cock buried deep inside her.

He wanted her. In every way a man could want a woman.

His fascination with her should’ve worn off a little by now, but it burned as bright as it did when he first saw her standing by the car, the wind plastering her dress to her body. The body he now knew intimately.

Bea waved a hand in front of his face. ‘Earth to Gib?’

‘Sorry, I was miles away, thinking about fucking you.’ Would she object to the word? To his blunt way of talking?

She stilled, and the air between them started to shimmer. ‘That’s pretty direct.’

‘Do you have a problem with me telling you what I want?’

‘No, it saves time.’ She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘In case you were wondering, I’m happy to leave and head back to the cottage. We can come back to watch the fireworks at midnight.’

Leaving to return to the cottage was a good idea, sensible. But fuck being sensible.

‘I couldn’t possibly wait that long.’ But, because he didn’t want any misunderstandings, he issued another reminder. To her, but mostly to himself. ‘I need to say this again… I don’t do relationships, I don’t do commitment. I don’t talk. I’m going back home next week. I can’t give you more than another week.’

‘So very direct,’ Bea murmured, placing her hand high on his thigh, her nails digging in. Gib swallowed his moan. He’d never been so turned on, and so quickly, by anyone before. Why this woman? Why was he so crazy attracted to her?

‘Where and when?’ she asked him.

The blood rushed from his head. ‘Here. Andnow.’

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