He grimaced. “This is turning into a terrible deal.”
“Something tells me you wouldn’t recognize agooddeal if it crawled up your pant leg and bit you on the pecker. Three little truths. That’s all I’m asking.”
He experienced a jolt when she mentioned the wordsbiteandpeckerin the same sentence. His perverted mind immediatelyconjured up an image ofherdown on her knees, her soft mouth wrapped around… He shoved the vision aside.
Andlittle? He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the three truths she’d asked for would be anything but little. She didn’t want to know what his favorite color was—pink, like her cheeks—or what side of the bed he slept on—whichever side of the bed she didn’t want. She wanted to knowhim. To unearth the dark, disturbing things from his past that had formed him into the man he was today.
“Fine.” He stuck out his hand. “You win. Three truths. But I get to ask my questions first.”
When she reached to shake on the deal, he pulled her off the sofa and into his lap. She squeaked her surprise.
“What are you doing?” She squirmed to be let go.
“You got what you wanted.Three truths. It’s only fair I get whatIwant too. Which is you on my lap.” If he was going to open the lid on his dark past and expose her to all its shadows, he needed to keep hold of her while he did it. Whether to ground her in the present or to keep himself grounded there, he wasn’t sure. “Now, stop wiggling,” he scolded. “Unless…” He made certain his grin was lecherous. “You fancy wigglinga tad to the left. That would be quite fine, and I—”
She shoved a finger over his lips. When he kissed it, she was quick to scowl and yank it away. She tried to act nonchalant about it, but he caught her rubbing at the spot where his lips had been. He could see the goose bumps on her arms, and a deep sense of satisfaction gripped him.
“Your jeans are wet,” she accused.
“Not that wet,”he countered. In fact, they were mostly dry.
“Fine. But I would’ve thought you’d had enough of me sitting on your lap after the truck ride.” She looked petulant and flustered and quite pretty with her long hair having dried into soft, beachy waves. It was shiny and mink brown. But he knew when the sunlight hit it just right, he would see scattered strands of deep auburn and burnished gold.
“Quite the contrary,” he told her. “I found I rather enjoyed it. Now I’m hooked.”
“Humph.” She crossed her arms.
He was tempted to kiss the frown right off her lips. Then kiss his way back to her ear so he could whisper dirty things to her before he made way down to her neck so he could suck on—
“That fecking bastard bruised you,” he growled. There were four discolored circles onthe side of her slim throat where lead Wankstain Brother had throttled her.
“It’s nothing.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t even hurt.”
It might not hurt, but that didn’t stop Christian from imagining tearing out the asshole’s jugular—with his teeth—for daring to lay hands on her. In fact, he got so lost in the fantasy he didn’t realize how much time had passed until Emily said,“Well? Are we gonna do this thing or not? I ain’t got all day.”
Right. The truths. And she’d whipped out her ’hood-girl grammar, which revealed how nervous she was about what he might ask.
Brilliant. Hewantedher nervous. He didn’t want to be the only one.
“Truth number one,” he began, “why did you say you don’t mix business with pleasure when you do…when youhave?”
“It wasn’ta lie,” she insisted, still wearing a mulish expression that made him snuggle her closer despite her protests. After a couple of seconds, she gave up and leaned against him, all soft weight and sweet-smelling shampoo. “If you recall, I didn’t say I’dnevermixed business with pleasure. I just said Idon’tmix them. As in currently.”
That didn’t bode well for him, did it? Something hard andsharp settled inside his chest. “Why? What happened between you and your boss?”
“He fell in love with me.”
The way she said the words was how someone else might say,The sun darkened, the moon turned to blood, and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse appeared on the horizon.
The hard thing that had settled in his chest turned out to be a vise. It clamped around his heart. “He fell inlove with you? Is that such a bad thing?”
“Yes!” she huffed exasperatedly, looking at him like the answer was obvious. “Because it ruinedeverythingwhen I didn’t love him back. When Icouldn’tlove him back. And believe me, I tried. Richard Neely was smart and handsome and about the sweetest thing ever.”
If it was difficult seeing Emily holding hands or dancing in the arms of Rusty, aman who had no more sexual interest in her than he would in a kumquat, then it was absolutely agonizing imagining her in the arms of a man she thought of as smart and handsome and sweet. A man who had loved her and had no doubtmadelove to her on many occasions.
“He had these cute dimples,” she continued. “And on Sunday mornings he would bring me breakfast in bed and then—”
“Oh, go onthen.” Christian clapped a hand over her mouth. “Spare me the details.” Green had edged into his vision, and he was afraid if she continued, he might hulk out and start tearing books from the shelves in a jealous rage.
