Page 53 of Her Every Fantasy

He nodded. ‘Go for it.’

I pulled it on, looked down and grimaced again. The thin material showed my nipples clearly, clung to my curves and barely covered my behind. ‘I should’ve gone for a black one.’

Bryce swallowed hard. ‘I disagree. Entirely.’

I hid a smile as I eyed his naked chest. ‘Fair warning. You ogle me, I ogle you back.’

His smile widened. ‘I can live with that.’

By mutual silent agreement we gravitated to the door. I didn’t exactly want to discuss Dan where I’d fucked Bryce and I got the feeling he didn’t want my ex’s shadow lingering in his bedroom.

The intercom went as we entered the living room.

‘Stay put, I’ll grab the food.’

I settled on one end of the sofa and watched Bryce’s broad back as he walked away. God, he was breathtaking. Years of rugby had honed him into a fine male specimen, one any woman would be thrilled to call her own.

I squeezed my thighs together as heat pooled between my legs, then further compounded my situation as my nipples peaked, eager to join in the sex-fantasy fun.

I dragged my gaze from the back that bore nail marks from earlier and crossed my arms as Bryce returned and set the food down on the coffee table.

‘White wine okay?’

I nodded jerkily and he sent me a quizzical look before disappearing into his kitchen. Spotting a throw draped over the sofa, I hastily unfolded it and tossed it over my lower half.

Bryce returned, frowned when he saw me. ‘Are you cold? I can adjust the temperature.’

I tucked the cashmere firmer around me. ‘Nah, I’m fine.’

He expertly uncorked the bottle and poured me a glass, eyeing me the whole time. When I reached out to take it, his gaze shifted to my chest.

Expecting another smirk or a teasing comeback, I was surprised when he offered neither. Simply dished out the food and sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

In silence we ate a few mouthfuls, neither of us especially hungry. After my third bite, I set my plate aside and concentrated on the wine, the subject a monstrous anvil between us.

‘This...thing between us didn’t start with your ex. You know that, right?’

I nodded. He was right. If anything Dan had been the straw that broke us.

‘Paris.’

He nodded. ‘Yup.’

‘My first catwalk. You hated it.’

‘Wrong. I loved it. I just never got the chance to tell you.’

The hurt of that rejection still burned through my surprise. ‘You had a funny way of showing it. You stood in one corner of the room, surroundedby models who hung onto your every word while you showed them the true meaning of smouldering hotness.’

He glared at me. ‘I came to see you, after Gideon gave me hell for abandoning the project we were working on, I might add. You gave me one of those silly air-kisses and then spent the rest of the evening avoiding me.’

‘Because you looked far from thrilled to be there and I didn’t want us to fight.’

‘Maybe I was tired of you paying attention to everyone else but me.’

‘What are you talking about? That’s ridiculous.’ When he was around, there was no space for anyone else. He made it impossible to see anything or anyone else. Once upon a time I hated him for that, for shrinking my whole world to a six-foot-three aperture that looked exactly like Bryce Mortimer. But even that resentment had been trampled under the force of my secret crush, leaving behind heart-stopping excitement and pathetic gratitude that he chose to remain in my orbit.

‘Is it?’ he asked with a curiously bleak tone. ‘Am I wrong? Wasn’t there distance between usby Paris?’

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