“You want to fuck me.”
He laughed and wiped his mouth. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
I looked down at his jeans, the bulge there obvious. “Liar.”
“Been called worse.”
I moved closer to him, my chest about to explode with nerves that were only overridden by the need I felt right now. My hand hit his chest and slid down, cupping his erection.
I’d never done this before. Been so brazen. This wasn’t me; it was Lala. I was the good girl, the girl who stayed in the shadows and only danced when asked.
The girl who had an affair with a married man.
He cursed as I gripped him, or tried to. His cock felt big, girthy. The wetness between my legs increased, and I swallowed hard.
A bang at the door had me scuttling backwards, as if he was on fire.
Tommy didn’t move. He didn’t smile or laugh or say anything. He didn’t have to; his eyes said it all.
They were dark and filled with lust.
“Saved by the woodcutter.” He went to the door and unlocked it, one of his employees coming in, not noticing me, chatting to Tommy about something in Catalan.
I slipped outside, aware he was watching me, aware that my heart hadn’t slowed down, aware that the bright light outside made it feel like a different world to the darkness of the bar I’d just stumbled from.
Chapter Nine
Jameson
Iexpected Lara to know straight away something had happened. I thought everything I’d just done, every second of that kiss, would be written all over my face, and that Lara would read it easier than anyone.
Instead, my sister was still sitting at the same table, only the coffee had been replaced by a cocktail, and she didn’t even look up from her book when I sat down. The waiter came straight over, gesturing to my iced latte that was probably more the temperature of warm coffee by now.
I looked at Lala’s cocktail - a mimosa, what she would argue was perfectly acceptable at this time in the morning. I sometimes worried about my sister’s lifestyle. She ate infrequently, most of her calories coming from what she drank, unless she went to the other extreme of a huge health kick.
I worried about her.
“I’ll have a mimosa, gràcies.” I gave him a smile and looked at Lara’s glass. It was a third full. “And another for her.”
He nodded and scurried away, looking barely fourteen if he was a day.
Lala looked up, half smiled. “Where did you go?” She squinted. “Your lips look swollen. Have you just seen Monty or something?” The half-smile became a full one.
“No. Not Monty.”
“Who, then? Shit, it’s even too early to call it afternoon delight!”
“I wasn’t gone that long.” Just the time it took for her drink more than half a mimosa. “And it doesn’t matter. It won’t happen again.”
“Jameson. Tell me.” Her voice was a whisper, and full of fun and secrets.
“It doesn’t matter.” It didn’t. “Nothing’s going to come of it.”
“It doesn’t have to. It can just be fun. A holiday fling. Although you can have that with Monty. He’s staying for a few weeks now. For the summer – like you.” She smiled again. “I’d love to see someone sweep you off your feet, and Monty will do that.”
He would. I got the feeling he wanted to as well. “But it would all be for show. There’s no future.”
Lala laughed. “You’re too young to be talking about a future with a guy, Jay Jay. You’re going to New York. You don’t want to be attached in New York. Fall in love, have your heart broken, break someone else’s. Date a guy you shouldn’t, sleep with, a guy youdefinitelyshouldn’t. Wake up in a bed with two other people, and carry on that morning with them. You don’t always have to be planning for the future, Jay. You can just live for that day.”
