Page 12 of Her Diamond Deal with the CEO

He took the condom from her shaking hands and she watched, dry-mouthed, as he slid it onto his erection. He lifted her up so that her thighs were straddling his hips and now he slowed as he pushed inside her, taking his time, making her wait, letting her register every smooth, pulsing inch of him.

She put her hand on his arm to steady herself as he began to move against her, his hips lifting her up in a hard, intoxicating rhythm that made her head spin. Now he was touching her clitoris, working in time with his thrusts, and she sucked in a breath as his lips found the hollow below her ear.

Her fingers flexed against his warm, bare chest. She was melting, dissolving into a molten pool of need and, reaching up, she clasped his face in her hands, suddenly desperate, her mouth finding his as he rocked faster, and faster and then she cried out, back arching, breath shuddering.

Moments later, a heartbeat at most, he caught her wrists, gripping them tightly and then his lips parted and he was groaning against her mouth, body tensing as he surged inside her.

She felt his hand in her hair and, breathing hard, he fell back on the bed, taking her with him.

Head spinning, she shifted against the white heat of Jack’s body. She could feel the sweat on her skin. Their sweat. But it was her face that felt as if it were on fire.

What had she done? But it was a rhetorical question. She knew what she’d done. She’d had sex with Jack Walcott. Or to put it another way, she’d made the biggest mistake of her life. Okay, maybe not the biggest, she thought, catching sight of her ring finger.

But this was definitely a mistake.

He was in the corner of her vision and she turned her head slightly until she could no longer see him. But now she could see the clothes scattered all over the floor where he had pulled them from her greedy, reckless body—

As casually as she could manage, she wriggled out of his arms.

‘Where are you going?’ His hand moved over her thigh, and she knew that if she let it stay there she would soon be incapable of rational thought.

‘I’m just going to use the bathroom.’ Sliding her legs off the bed, she stood up so quickly that she almost toppled over. ‘I’ll leave you to get dressed and...’ She let the sentence teeter and fall into the silence between them and, snatching up her clothes, she darted out of the room.

She shut and locked the door.

Gripping the edge of the sink, she stared at her reflection. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep making the same dumb mistakes? Her fingers trembled against the cool porcelain. Since her second divorce had come through she had been single, and if not happy then focused on Oli’s future and clearing the debts Vince had racked up in their names. Sex and men were off the agenda for the very simple reason that she couldn’t trust herself. And it had been surprisingly easy to resist temptation.

Only then Jack had been there, his golden eyes melting into hers, his face so beautiful it made her ache, and that hard, lean body promising every kind of pleasure. Mouth dry, she stared into her reflected eyes, pressing her thighs tight. And not just promising. He had delivered.

Probably because he’d had so much practice, she thought, picturing her own shaking hands as she’d tried to unwrap the condom.

She felt her cheeks grow warm. Her lack of expertise was embarrassing to remember but at least she’d had some condoms left over, because truthfully she’d been so caught up in her hunger for him that she couldn’t say for sure if she would have done something unforgivably stupid in the moment.

‘Ondine—’ There was a tap at the door. ‘Everything all right?’

She froze. ‘Yes, everything’s great. I’ll see you downstairs—’

Breathing out shakily, she pulled on her clothes. She should never have let him talk her into coming back to the house, not after what had happened on the beach. It had been clear then that the danger and terror of the morning had stripped away the usual reserve between strangers.

But there was no point thinking about that now. It was done. What mattered was getting Jack out of the house and back to the hotel as soon as possible and she unlocked the door and made her way downstairs. Jack was standing in the kitchen with his back to her. He was gazing down at the counter and her footsteps faltered as she saw what he was looking at.

‘What are you doing with those?’

The worktop was covered in brown envelopes and she watched in horror as he picked up two and put them to one side. ‘I’m playing Go Fish.’

‘Do you mind?’ Pushing past him, she gathered up the envelopes.

‘You have a lot of unpaid bills,’ he said softly.

‘And you have a lot of nerve.’ Her eyes narrowed on his face. ‘Look, just because we had sex doesn’t give you the right to go poking around in my things—’

Yanking open the drawer, she stuffed the envelopes inside, then slammed it shut. Heart thumping against her ribs, she turned to face him. He stared at her impassively.

‘Putting them in there’s not going to help make them go away.’

‘Well, luckily for you, how I make them go away is none of your business,’ she snapped.

Jack was leaning against the counter, sunlight and shadow criss-crossing his face in tigerish stripes. ‘But it could be,’ he said after a moment.

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