Page 54 of Bad Love

Desire surges through me as I take the bottle and set it on the vanity, feeling her breasts press against my chest. "You need excitement, Peach. You need a man who'll take you outside your comfortzone.

Kendall's hands grip the counter behind her. Her eyes flash, but there's hunger under thechallenge.

God, she's beautiful. All lush curves I want to sink my teeth into. Lick every part of until she's moaning underme.

My voice is a rasp. "Here’s the real problem. This"—I hold up the vibe—"won't do it foryou."

"You know nothing about getting me off." Her flushed face is full of breathlessanticipation.

I smooth a hand down her side. I half expect the next feeling that registers to be her knee crushing into my balls, but it’s not. It’s the way her ribs expand under mytouch.

I swore off crazy wagers after the most recent one with Nellie, the one I’m still reeling from, but I can’t resist taking onemore.

"Want to bet?" I ask softly, holding out thevibe.

“I don’t understand.” Her voice is lower than I’ve ever heardit.

"If this gets you off, I'll take your word that we can sell ten thousand of these and get out of your way. Of course," I continue helpfully, “you touching yourself in front of hot strangers might bring about the end of days according to your little theory. So, I understand there’re pros andcons.”

Her gaze works over mine as if she's thinking about this. My bets aren't for thinking about. They’re for lunging at, or for laughing at, but I should’ve known she’d think about it. Just like I should’ve known I’d live to regretit.

“You think I won’t,” shebreathes.

“Peach, I know youwon’t.”

But I really fucking wish youwould.

Kendall deserves someone who cares about her, who sees how fucking beautiful she is, how brave, how hard she tries. How she struggles with everything she carries and does it so goddamn well the cracks almost nevershow.

She’s trapped between me and the vanity, and I’d give everything I own for some fucking friction with her right now. But this isn’t about me. It’s abouther.

The sound of rustling has me looking down. Kendall's pulling up the edge of herskirt.

Jesus.My attention contracts to the slow movement of fabric up her smoothlegs.

I do the one thing I can besides willing my heart to keepbeating.

Without taking my gaze from hers, I reach back for thedoor.

And flick thelock.

12

There arefew moments I remember with startling clarity, thinking,"What on Earth have Idone?"

One was when I found out I was pregnant withRory.

One was when I signed the divorcepapers.

The third is leaning against the vanity in the one-stall women’s bathroom at work, Logan Hunter caging me in with his arms as he stares down at me with challenge and an almost-feral need. As if his very existence depends on my nextmove.

In the aftermath of a weekend where all I wanted was to spend drama-free time with my kid, being a good mom, what I got instead was drama in the form of one talent show, one ex-husband, and one sexy client? I can’t pretend to beunaffected.

His scruff makes me want to rub my face against it until it burns. I want to drag that sweater—the fuck-you-my-eyes-are-brown blue one that perfectly skims his deliciously hard body—over his head and see what I findbeneath.

“A woman who can talk about sex toys like a boss isn't looking for nice andeasy.”

He’s right on one level—I want the wayhemakes mefeel.

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