Page 47 of Chasing Temptation
I’m lost in my own thoughts as a shiver runs down my spine. “Cappuccino, one sugar, chocolate sprinkles,” is whispered in my ear, and I step back to lean into him. His warmth engulfs me as his lips find the skin of my neck.
“What’s all this about?” I ask once we’re seated.
“Thought it was time we had another crazy night.”
“I don’t need all that now. I’ve got you to keep me on my toes.”
“You might not need it, but you deserve a good night out.”
I can’t really argue with that so I smile at him and sip my coffee.
“Plus, if I remember rightly there was something on your to do list that you never ticked off.”
I laugh. “I’m not having a one-night stand.”
“Damn fucking right you’re not.”
I try racking my brain for what other word vomit fell from my mouth that night, but I don’t get the chance to figure it out because Joe stands and hold a hand out for me. “Ready to paint the town red?”
“So ready.”
We take the tube into the centre of London, and I’m not surprised when he drags me to the Chinese takeaway we came to last time and orders the exact same dishes. We sit in Leicester Square and polish off every single bit as we sit, people watching. The little trip down memory lane is exactly what I didn’t know I needed.
“Joe, I need to tell you something,” I admit, ready to explode with excitement.
“Okay, go on.” I hate that there’s a little hesitation in his voice.
“I got some surprise mail this afternoon.” His eyebrows rise. “I’m free.”
“You’re what?” His brows draw together, but I can see a little bit of hope sparkling in his eyes.
“I’m free. He signed.”
“He signed?” he echoes.
“He did. I’m free.”
Joe’s up before I have a chance to blink. He pulls me from my seat and spins me around right in front of all the people in the square. I can’t help the joy bubbling up my throat and I laugh as he continues. When he eventually set me on my feet, I sway with dizziness.
His eyes search mine, but he doesn’t say anything. A little disappointment finds its way in. I hadn’t realised that I was hoping he’d drop to one knee instantly and demand I become his, but that’s exactly how I feel. Swallowing it down and forcing myself to enjoy the moment, I stare back at him.
“So what’s next? Comedy club, live music and getting me off in a nightclub?”
His eyes darken with lust at my last suggestion. “Sounds like a pretty damn perfect night to me.”
With our hands connected, Joe leads us in the direction we went that night. We visit all the same places and drink all the same drinks. The whole evening is incredible, just like I knew it would be, and although I have fond memories of the first time, tonight is even better.
The differences are stark.
I’m no longer scared for my life, no longer looking over my shoulder or fighting the growing connection between us. Tonight, I let go. I laugh like I have no cares in the world, and I knock back slippery nipples and screaming orgasms like a pro. And when he pulls me to him on the dance floor towards the end of the night, I don’t tense, I don’t worry if we’re going to be caught, because I know without a doubt that this man is mine and there’s not a damn thing anyone can do about it. The only thing I care about right now is being in his arms and making sure he never lets go.
The music pounds around us as we move in time to the music. Our hips roll, our skin is covered in a sheen of sweat and the alcohol we’ve consumed is making my head spin, but I zone out everything bar him and this moment.
His hands rest on my ribs just inside my top, but unlike last time they don’t venture any higher, although it must be killing him to do so. Things are different this time. The lust simmering just below the surface ready to explode within both of us is still there, but we’ve learned to contain it, if only just. I’ve no doubt that Joe’s restraint is going to snap any moment and I’m going to be dragged home to finish off the night properly. Not that there will be any complaints from me.
It can’t be five minutes after I have that thought that he leans into my ear and suggests we leave. Excitement bubbles in my belly for what’s to come, and I eagerly take his hand when he offers it, following him from the club.
He helps me into my jacket and together we walk out into the night. It’s still dark although there are signs of the approaching morning. London’s commuters start a hell of a lot earlier than I was ever used to living in the country. Taxis zip past us, and others pour from clubs and bars ready to head home, probably to get ready for work like Joe’s going to have to do in about two hours.
