The Lover’s Secret (No Exceptions #1)(2)
Author: J.C. Reed

Gorgeous, boyish dimples formed in his manly cheeks as he smiled and sat down on the bar stool next to me. He was uninvited, and yet he couldn’t have been more welcome. As if sensing my unraveling, his lips slowly parted, revealing two strings of white, perfect teeth I would have loved to feel on my skin.

He held out his hand. “No need to know it,” he said. “After tomorrow morning, I’ll only be a memory for you anyway.”

Wow. Talk about blunt.

I smiled sweetly and inclined my head to regard him. “In which case, forget I ever mentioned mine.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to,” he whispered. “After tomorrow, you might just be the only thing I’ll be able to think about, Brooke.”

My name rolled off his tongue in a sexy, rumbling way. Ever so slowly, his fingers clasped around mine, and his head dipped low again, so close I could feel his breath on my ear.

“I couldn’t help but notice your sexy legs, Miss Stewart. Surely those high heels must be painful. How about I show you my room, so you can take them off? We’ll order drinks, get to know each other, and do something about that pain of yours.”

He was right; I was in pain, but it wasn’t coming from my shoes. My whole body ached with a yearning for him to touch me, begging to know whether the sexual tension between us would actually translate into mind-blowing sex.

As though sensing my thoughts, he pulled back, but he didn’t let go of my hand. His eyes kept probing mine with an intensity that made me swallow hard, and blood rushed in my ears as I watched his lips curve into a lazy, lopsided smile that instantly melted my panties, metaphorically speaking. Just looking at him, I felt drugged, as if the chemical reactions in my brain were some complex cocktail of sex-fueled hormones, waiting to diffuse.

He had that effect on me, yes, but I harbored no intention of letting him know it. If he wanted me, he would have to do more than shoot me that arrogant, self-assured smile my way. In all honesty, there was no way I’d get involved with a man like him—not when I already had accomplished half my goal. He had seen me, and I had let my guard down a bit. Now, I had to figure out how to get away.

“As flattered as I am,” I said, smiling politely, “I’m afraid I’m not interested. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other business to tend to.” Evading his heated gaze, I grabbed my bag and turned away when his hand clasped around my upper arm—gently but forceful enough to stop me. His touch was hot, burning through my clothes like lava.

“Why not?” he asked, wearing a lazy grin that spelled trouble.

The way he was standing, so close to me, with his hand around my arm, I felt myself heating up. His thumb started to move in circles over my skin, carrying with it an unspoken promise I couldn’t deny. A picture flashed through my mind: his lips and tongue licking my skin, his fingers prodding my knickers to find my secret entrance. Instantly, the telltale heat of a major blush scorched my cheeks.

“Are you scared because I’m secretly turning you on?” he asked. His hands moved lower, down my spine, until he reached the small of my back. It was just a small, almost innocent move, but his confidence overpowered me. “Or is it the prospect of me entering you that arouses you?”

I stopped his hand from wandering further south and laughed nervously as I tried to push the pictures of his exploring fingers inside me to the back of my mind.

“In your dreams, perhaps,” I said, sounding much more weak than I intended. My attempt to brush him off was a feeble one. And, judging from his wide grin, he knew it.

“I don’t believe you,” he said.

“Of course you don’t,” I muttered, and neither did I.

Get a grip, Stewart. Act like you’re not interested. Play hard-to-get.

“I don’t usually get involved with strangers,” I stated as emphatically as I could, my voice betraying me with its trembling.

A devilish glint appeared in his eyes.

“I wasn’t suggesting a date,” he said with the same confident tone. “It was a proposition—sex and nothing else. What I’m offering is something you’ve never experienced before. You seem like a practical woman, but you’re also curious. I can tell by the way your eyes keep glinting, challenging me to keep this up until your resolve crumbles. You want me to push you hard enough to the point you can’t bear it anymore.”

I swallowed hard, because he was right. “What if I’m married, with five kids and a husband waiting for me?”

“I highly doubt that.” His eyes scanned my face, my half-exposed chest, and then slid lower, until I could feel the heat of his gaze on my legs. It barely lasted a second, but the brief span was enough to send another delicious pull through my abdomen. Eventually, our eyes connected again.

“I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss Stewart.”

“Maybe I left it at home,” I suggested weakly.

He inched closer, pressing his hands down on the bar beside me, until his lips were mere inches from mine. He was so tall I had to lean back to look all the way up. But it wasn’t his height that intimidated me; it was that confidence of his, bordering on an inflated ego. I knew what kind of man he was. Men like him loved hard and played just as hard. I wanted to love hard for a night, but could I take the heat?

“If you left it there, you did it on purpose.” He made it sound like a fact. His lips twitched, and I couldn’t help but stare at their luscious perfection: lips I wanted to kiss and nibble on; lips I wanted to kiss me back; lips that would make me scream his name.

“What are you saying?”

“You’re here for a reason.”

I raised my brows, feigning surprise. “And what reason would that be?”

His lips moved closer, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me. An electric tingle washed over me as he whispered in my ear, “Excitement, action, sex—all three, which you so obviously, desperately need today.” He leaned back and tucked a stray lock behind my ear, then continued slowly, “You’re looking for someone to give you a new sense of reality, someone who will help you forget your crappy day at work and take you on the ride of your life.” With each word, his deep tone sent another ripple of hot lava through me.

“You make it sound like I’m a cheater.”

He shook his head and leaned forward again. “No, not a cheater. More like someone who’s bored with her life and works too hard.”

His hot breath tickled my neck, and my thighs clenched in lust. I wanted him to kiss me, but more than that, I wanted him to take me.