and Beth are pretty great too.”
“I don’t think I’ve met them.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. They mostly hang with me at work and sometimes at small gatherings when it’s just us girls.” She didn’t want to think about what her friends would make of Brian. They’d be all over him like he was covered in Swiss chocolate.
He pulled in to the driveway of a huge house, one that sat in a familiar neighborhood.
“Oh, that’s right. You live near Derrick, don’t you?”
“He’s down the street, yeah.” Brian opened his garage with a button, pulled inside, then closed the door behind them.
They sat in silence before he exited and helped her out.
“Oh, um, thanks.” Nonplussed at the gentlemanly gesture, she tried not to shiver when he put his hand on the small of her back.
“Welcome to my parlor,” he said in a deep voice and gave an evil laugh.
“Very funny.” She glanced over her shoulder and saw him wink. Instead of worrying about what he might choose for his bet, or being nervous about being alone with him, she found herself enjoying his company.
Why she’d lost her nervousness, she had no idea. Perhaps their intimate sharing in the car? Treating each other like friends and not just potential fuck buddies?
He opened the door and led her into his home.
And bam , her anxiety returned.
Faith saw money everywhere she looked. Nothing over-the-top showy, but quality furniture, countertops, appliances. She could only imagine how much he’d spent on his comfort. No doubt more than what she made in months.
It made her ashamed of what her apartment must have looked like if this was what he saw on a daily basis.
“Faith?” He frowned. “You okay?”
“I need a drink.”
He nodded. “Wine, beer, water. Whatever you want.” He moved around her and walked to the fridge.
To her amusement, when he opened it she saw his food was organized and way too neat. “You’re a little OCD, aren’t you?”
His faced reddened, and she found him absolutely adorable. Her unease about his wealth began to fade.
“I wouldn’t call myself obsessive—”
“Just compulsive?”
“Smartass.” He grabbed a water, twisted off the lid and drank.
When he finished, she took the bottle from his hands and drank—her mouth right over where he’d had his—then handed it back.
His eyes darkened. “Hmm. The bet. What should I pick for you? Something worthy of my grand win.”
“Please. You got lucky.”
“Lucky? I spelled ‘obsequious’ backwards.”
She shrugged, feeling warmer the more he stared at her. Why the hell had she not put up more of a fight over being near the man in private? She knew better. Her control over her sexual impulses improved with distance. But in close quarters? In the privacy of his own home, where no one would see her lapse in judgment?
Hell. She was dying for a repeat performance of their first time.
“How about this?” He took another swallow of water, watching her all the while.
“Yes?”
“Well…”
“Quit dragging it out, Goode.”
“Snippy little thing.” He moved in on her, and she sucked in breath. Brian leaned close, his lips almost touching her collarbone.
“Brian?” she whispered, totally turned on.
“You smell good. All the time.” He leaned back and smiled at her.
The warmth in his gaze lured her forward…until he stepped away. “Come on in to the living room.”
Swearing silently, she followed him after getting a handle on her stupid hormones. “Okay, the bet?”
“You agree to join me at the club this weekend. One room. Just you and me. Any fantasy you have, and I mean anything, and it’s yours. But you have to be honest with me. No holding back.”
She blinked. “Um, what?”
“You heard me. Or are you too chicken to play?”
Oh, a dare. That set her back up. “I thought it was double or nothing?”
He grinned, a mean smile that looked totally out of place on the charmer’s face. “I get to play out my fantasies as well. With
“I don’t think I’ve met them.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. They mostly hang with me at work and sometimes at small gatherings when it’s just us girls.” She didn’t want to think about what her friends would make of Brian. They’d be all over him like he was covered in Swiss chocolate.
He pulled in to the driveway of a huge house, one that sat in a familiar neighborhood.
“Oh, that’s right. You live near Derrick, don’t you?”
“He’s down the street, yeah.” Brian opened his garage with a button, pulled inside, then closed the door behind them.
They sat in silence before he exited and helped her out.
“Oh, um, thanks.” Nonplussed at the gentlemanly gesture, she tried not to shiver when he put his hand on the small of her back.
“Welcome to my parlor,” he said in a deep voice and gave an evil laugh.
“Very funny.” She glanced over her shoulder and saw him wink. Instead of worrying about what he might choose for his bet, or being nervous about being alone with him, she found herself enjoying his company.
Why she’d lost her nervousness, she had no idea. Perhaps their intimate sharing in the car? Treating each other like friends and not just potential fuck buddies?
He opened the door and led her into his home.
And bam , her anxiety returned.
Faith saw money everywhere she looked. Nothing over-the-top showy, but quality furniture, countertops, appliances. She could only imagine how much he’d spent on his comfort. No doubt more than what she made in months.
It made her ashamed of what her apartment must have looked like if this was what he saw on a daily basis.
“Faith?” He frowned. “You okay?”
“I need a drink.”
He nodded. “Wine, beer, water. Whatever you want.” He moved around her and walked to the fridge.
To her amusement, when he opened it she saw his food was organized and way too neat. “You’re a little OCD, aren’t you?”
His faced reddened, and she found him absolutely adorable. Her unease about his wealth began to fade.
“I wouldn’t call myself obsessive—”
“Just compulsive?”
“Smartass.” He grabbed a water, twisted off the lid and drank.
When he finished, she took the bottle from his hands and drank—her mouth right over where he’d had his—then handed it back.
His eyes darkened. “Hmm. The bet. What should I pick for you? Something worthy of my grand win.”
“Please. You got lucky.”
“Lucky? I spelled ‘obsequious’ backwards.”
She shrugged, feeling warmer the more he stared at her. Why the hell had she not put up more of a fight over being near the man in private? She knew better. Her control over her sexual impulses improved with distance. But in close quarters? In the privacy of his own home, where no one would see her lapse in judgment?
Hell. She was dying for a repeat performance of their first time.
“How about this?” He took another swallow of water, watching her all the while.
“Yes?”
“Well…”
“Quit dragging it out, Goode.”
“Snippy little thing.” He moved in on her, and she sucked in breath. Brian leaned close, his lips almost touching her collarbone.
“Brian?” she whispered, totally turned on.
“You smell good. All the time.” He leaned back and smiled at her.
The warmth in his gaze lured her forward…until he stepped away. “Come on in to the living room.”
Swearing silently, she followed him after getting a handle on her stupid hormones. “Okay, the bet?”
“You agree to join me at the club this weekend. One room. Just you and me. Any fantasy you have, and I mean anything, and it’s yours. But you have to be honest with me. No holding back.”
She blinked. “Um, what?”
“You heard me. Or are you too chicken to play?”
Oh, a dare. That set her back up. “I thought it was double or nothing?”
He grinned, a mean smile that looked totally out of place on the charmer’s face. “I get to play out my fantasies as well. With
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