Page 30 of His Own Heaven

Lucy turned to find Toby sitting on the window-seat, looking completely at ease with one ankle resting on the opposite knee, his flaccid cock nestled between strong thighs and a fine china teacup with roses painted on the side in his big hands. He was a grown man having a tea party.

A naked tea party with his doll.

No, not his doll. Hisfuck toy.

Hisfuck toy.

“You’re mine.”

Suspicion slid through her mind, and she narrowed her eyes. “Does Charlie really have to work this weekend, or did you tell him to leave?”

Toby raised one stern brow and her knees felt weak.So sexy.She reached out and placed her hand on a bedpost to steady herself and hoped it looked casual.

“Are you afraid to be alone with me?”

She didn’t miss the challenge in his voice.

Yes. “No.”

His other brow joined the first as he continued staring at her, as though he could sense her lie and was looking for confirmation. Whatever he saw, he didn’t seem worried by it. He patted the seat cushion beside him. “Then come here. Sit down and let me take care of you.”

Unable to think of a reason to refuse and uncertain she even wanted to, Lucy took the seat beside Toby and accepted the cup of tea he’d made for her.

She felt… weird. The whole situation was weird. Since when did she stick around for a cup of tea and snacks after sex? Hell, since when did she stick around for a shower? Once the deed was done, she’d always been happy to leave, and the bloke in question had always been happy to let her. More than happy. So what was with the tea and crumpets? And why did she feel… flattered?

Still, all the niceties in the world didn’t change the fact that this was a one-and-done deal. She’d told him as much at the pub.

“After this cuppa though, I really should go too,” she said, staring at the fruit and cheese platter he’d brought for them to share, drool pooling in her mouth at the sight of the finely cut prosciutto, blue cheese, and— “Honey-roasted macadamias!”

Before she could put her teacup down and grab a handful of assorted fare, Toby snatched up the nuts and offered them to her lips, smiling serenely as she accepted them, as though she were doing him proud by letting him feed her. Her cheeks heated and she looked away from him as she chewed, away from the intensity of his stare.

“You’re not used to this, are you?” Deep yet soft, his voice soothed her anxiety, if not her embarrassment, as he fed her a bite of cheese atop a thin slice of pear. The delicate flavours exploded in her mouth, and she closed her eyes and moaned, Toby’s question shoved aside by the sudden rapaciousness of her stomach.

“More.”

Holding another morsel in front of her mouth, Toby said, “Answer my question.” Lucy leaned forwards to take the fruit from his fingertips, but he snatched it away, grinning when she growled at him.Shit.What was the question?“You’re not used to this, are you?”

Caution warred with hunger, and she sounded snippy as she asked, “Used to what?”

“Being intimate with someone.”

Lucy snorted and crossed her arms. “I’m intimate with people all the time.” And she wasn’t going to apologise for it no matter how much society said she should. Sex gave her what she needed: an hour or two of physical interaction with another human being and a bit of mindless pleasure. It cleared the cobwebs from the body, mind and soul and best of all, nobody got hurt. She lifted her chin in an obstinate tilt.

What more could she possibly need?

“I’m not talking about sex,” Toby murmured. He stroked her hair, her cheek. Leaned in and kissed her with slow and deliberate purpose. Left her panting for more when he pulled away and finally fed her the plump strawberry he’d snatched away. “I’m talking about the stuff that comes between the orgasms.”

She cocked one brow. “Like having tea?”

“Amongst other things,” he said, grinning as though he could see through her cunning disguise of false bravado, which she realised as his pale gaze drifted languorously over her from head to toe, he probably could.

Swallowing hard, Lucy felt her cheeks heat again. How did he do that, see right through her bullshit? Men were not supposed to be that insightful. Not in her experience. It frightened her. Intimacy frightened her. Toby’s version of it anyway.

“I need to go.” But she couldn’t find the will to move.

Toby growled quietly, the sound unsettling in its softness. “Stay with me.”

Lucy straightened her spine against her need to submit to his demand. “One night only, remember?”

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