“Rule one,” he says, pulling me closer. “You don’t walk out on me when we’re messing around.”
I smirk. “Who said last night wasn’t only a one-time thing?”
“I did.” His hand slides from my waist to the small of my back, splaying his long fingers. “Rule two. No more using people to make each other jealous. No more Henry. No more Louise.”
The way he spits Henry’s name is pure possession. Territorial.Oh—it clicks—he’s actually jealous.
That explains the weird behavior when he saw us together at the bar last night. Does he think… does he think I’msleepingwith Henry?
I lick my bottom lip, filing that information away for later.
Who knows? It might come in handy. And it’s not exactly my place to go broadcasting Henry’s sexual orientation, now, is it?
I lift my chin. “You started it.”
“And I’m ending it.” His tone is final.
“And rule three?” I ask, my breathing grows ragged and my stomach spins.
“Rule three. While I’m fucking you, no one else is.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Max
That last rule slipped out. As soon it leaves my mouth, her eyes widen. I hadn’t planned to be so direct. But I want her again. Every delicious inch of her until she’s breathless and begging.
These rules aren’t just for her—they’re for me too.
The more time I spend with her, the further I slip. It’s infuriating and intoxicating. Her innocent glasses, her wavy blond hair, the confident way she carries herself through the office clouds my judgment and makes my fingers itch to touch her. I haven’t even been inside her yet, but the thought of her with another man infuriates me.
I understand Anna’s feelings are at stake here, but I don’t think either Gemma or I can deny whatever this thing is. My sister would have my head if she knew I was constantly thinking about sleeping with her best friend. If she knew what I’vealready donewith her best friend. But every time I’m in Gemma’s presence, resistance is futile.
Noah had a point yesterday—I’m only here for two months. Then it’s back to New York and my usual life. But while I’m here, the idea of something casual but consistent sounds pretty bloody appealing.
No strings, no promises, no disappointments. And because we’re working together, it makes sense that we don’t sleep with other people.
I haven’t been exclusive with anyone since my marriage fell apart. Seeing Gemma with Henry this morning, watching her smile at something he said, stirred green-eyed fury within me. It’s not rational, but the moment I saw her step out of the elevator in those high-waisted trousers and that sheer excuse for a shirt, I turned feral.
I need to take back some control after she walked out last night. After she left me so hard I could’ve shattered glass. Don’t get me wrong—Ilikethat she left me wanting. I like that she has the power to affect me this way. Ever since my divorce, the women I’ve bedded have been so agreeable, so eager to please they’d take whatever I gave them without question.
Gemma makes me work for it, and I love the chase.
After last night and knowing we have no option but to work closely together, I know neither of us will be able to resist the urge again. So, if we agree to continue messing around on the guise of something fleeting but exclusive, we can have our fun and nail this hotel launch without the worries of a relationship. When I return to New York, that’ll be it. We both walk away unscathed
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I look into her sage-green eyes swimming with questions.
“I don’t do exclusive. Sorry,” she says.
“Neither do I,” I say. “But seeing as I’m only here for a short while and we’re going to be in proximity, I think it’s best to avoid any possible conflict. This way we can be available to each other whenever we need to be. If we’re doing this, it’s exclusive. There won’t be anyone else. Not while you’re in my bed.” The words come out rough.
“Not even Tim?” she asks, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.
Hellcat.
I laugh. “Especially not fucking Tim. There will be no visit to Ruby Lounge unless we go together.”
“I have some conditions.”
