Down to You (The Bad Boys #1)(24)
Author: M. Leighton

And that’s all it takes.

The taste of Cash is like a perfectly aged Scotch—rich and delicious. His tongue slides along mine, stroking it, teasing it, as he uses his grip on my hand to pull me tighter to him. I do the only thing I can. I melt into him.

The fingers of his free hand work their way into my hair and tilt my head to the side as he deepens the kiss. He gets more aggressive, like he wants to gobble me up. And I want him to. God, I want him to.

He releases my hand and I feel his palm at the base of my spine. He splays his fingers and presses me into him.

He’s hard. And he’s huge. I can feel him against my belly. Warmth gushes through me, pooling between my legs. It’s been so long and I know instinctively that any sexual time spent with Cash would be earth-shattering, soul-screaming, body-rocking time.

Time that I’d probably live to regret when I got too close and he got too bored.

The reality of what I’m doing slaps me in the face and I pull back. My hands are in his hair, my body is glued to his and I ache for him from head to toe. But still, I pull back.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, his eyes dark with passion and peppered with confusion.

“We can’t do this.”

“I was just kidding about firing you.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

He steps back to give me room, but he grabs my hands to keep me from completely retreating. I don’t know why I let him hold them. Probably because I really don’t want him to let go. I just know that I should.

“Cash, all my life I’ve picked the wrong guy. The bad boy, the wild child, the rebel without a cause. I bet you didn’t even graduate high school, did you?” Cash doesn’t correct me, doesn’t deny it. “See? That’s the kind of guy I’m attracted to. You’re the kind of guy I’m attracted to. I won’t even pretend I’m not. But you’re the worst thing in the world for me. I’ve had my heart broken one too many times and I’m done. I’m done trying to tame the guys like you.”

He watches me closely, nodding slowly. “I understand that. I really do. But you want me and I want you. Can’t we just have that?”

My mouth drops open a little. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

“You’re seriously asking to have meaningless sex with me?”

“Oh, it won’t be meaningless,” he declares with a grin. “It will be everything you want it to be, with the understanding that, in the end, we’ll go our separate ways.”

“That’s the problem. Who picks when the end will be? You?”

“No, you can decide that. Or we can decide that together. Up front. We can stop when you’re ready to stop. Or before it becomes something you don’t want it to become.”

I know I should be offended, not intrigued. “But that’s just…just…”

“It’s just like the majority of other relationships without all the lies and expectations. That’s all it is. It’s practical and it’s smart.”

“A practical, smart sexual relationship?” I know my look is dubious. It has to be.

“Yes, but also a fiery, exciting, intensely pleasurable one,” he says, his voice dropping into a slower, deeper cadence. He steps toward me again. “I promise you won’t regret it. I promise to make you feel things and enjoy things you never even thought of before. I’ll make every night the best night of your life until you say it’s over. And then I’ll walk away. No hard feelings. Only sweet, sweet memories,” he purrs as he rubs our joined hands up and down the outsides of his thighs.

I know I should be slapping him or laughing in his face or at least pretending to be deeply insulted, which I should be. Yet I’m not. Instead, I’m actually considering what he’s saying.

Cash is smart enough to know when to pull back and let things ride. So he does.

“Give it some thought. We can talk more this weekend. In the meantime,” he whispers as he bends near my ear, “think about how it will feel to have my tongue inside you.” He nips my lobe with his teeth and I feel it all the way in the pit of my stomach. I bite my lip to keep from moaning. “And I’ll be thinking about what you taste like.”

And then, damn him, he turns around and walks off, leaving me standing in a puddle near the hood of my car.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – Nash

I’ve stayed away from Marissa on purpose, just so I don’t run into Olivia. Not only could she screw up my plans in a big way, she doesn’t deserve all the trouble I come with. She didn’t seem too concerned when I told her about Dad, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Well, maybe not the tip, but it’s at least only half of the iceberg.

But, as usual, Marissa started getting pouty and demanding, so here I am, soothing ruffled feathers over coffee. I glance at my watch. I’m really hoping to miss Olivia altogether. I think I remember Marissa saying she has her early classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. I need to be gone before she gets up. Seeing her will only make it harder to stay away from her. A man can only be pushed so far before he gives in, regardless of the consequences.

“If it wasn’t important, I’m sure he wouldn’t be asking me to go,” Marissa is saying. I’m sure it’s something I should be paying attention to, not ignoring while I think about her cousin.

“I’m sorry, go where?”

She sticks out her lip. “What’s wrong with you? I wanted you to come over so I could spend some time with you before I left, not talk to you while you stare into your coffee.”

I sigh. “I’m sorry, babe. I just keep thinking about that case Carl has me working on.” I set my mug down and reach for her hands. Her ice cold hands.

Damn, that’s fitting.

“Tell me again. I’m all yours,” I declare with a smile.

“Daddy wants me to go with two of the senior staff to Grand Cayman to look over those accounts. I’m hoping that means he’s gonna let me in on the whole project.”

I understand her excitement. I’m envious of the opportunity. She’s three years older than me, so she’s already graduated and practicing law, while I’m still stuck in internship for another few months.

“That’s great! I’m so proud of you. I’ll miss you, of course, but when do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.” She’s still pouting.