“Never, baby. I’ve got you.”
She closed her eyes, arched against him. “Yes, like that.”
He grasped her thighs, hard, knowing his hands would leave prints on her skin. But he couldn’t let go. He needed this, needed to have her exactly right so he could feel her fully. So he could go as deep as she’d let him. So he could make her his.
She gasped, stilled. Then cried out, cried his name, and he felt her body spasm around his cock, coaxing him over the edge. Making him slam one last time into her before he exploded.
And he heard himself whispering into her ear, nonsensical, unfamiliar words. “Never, baby. Never so good. Ruby, my sweet, Ruby. Mine. Never this fucking good.”
After his shudders had stopped, she took his face between her hands and placed a sweet, delicate kiss on his lips. “Promise me something, will you, Mark?”
“Anything.” And, to his surprise, he realized he meant it. “Anything,” he repeated.
She met his gaze. “When you leave, don’t say good-bye. Just go.”
Something in him went cold. “Who said anything about good-bye?”
She shrugged, trying to appear indifferent but failing. “Everyone has to leave sometime, right?”
“Good-bye’s not forever.”
“I mean what I said. I really, really hate saying good-bye. I turn into a blubbering idiot, and I’m wrecked for days. Happens every time. And, despite my best efforts, I think it would be really hard to say good-bye to you.”
He just stared at her, took in this beautiful, disheveled, sex-flushed woman named Ruby whose body was still clenching around his cock. She was offering him perfection. Phenomenal sex with a gorgeous girl. The temporariness he always craved, but without the guilt that went with it. She’d give him what he wanted, and when it was time to go, he could just walk away. Without even the bother of saying good-bye.
Yeah, perfection.
So why did it feel like he’d just been kicked in the teeth?
He pulled out of her and set her on her feet. Managed a smile. “Yeah, baby. Sure.” He pulled off the condom and tossed it into a rusty old garbage can.
She snuggled deeper into his jacket. “Great. Thank you.”
“No problem.” He yanked up his jeans. “Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want.”
Chapter
Twelve
What’s that?” The minute Ruby walked into the office Monday morning, Meg’s gaze shot to her throat.
Ruby dropped her messenger bag on her desk. “What? Oh, this? Mark gave it to me.”
“Well, well, well. That’s quite a present.”
Ruby shrugged off her coat. “Hey, I’ve never turned down diamonds,” Ruby said with a smile. “It’s not like I have a humongous rock on my hand to flash around.” Ruby nodded at the three-carat diamond ring on Meg’s left hand. “How are things with Emmett, anyway?”
From behind a stack of silk flowers, Meg said, “The same.”
“Have you used the you-know-what yet?” Ruby asked, referring to their jaunt to the sex store.
“No, I haven’t.” Meg shrugged. “Emmett’s barely been home, and I just haven’t had the opportunity to say, ‘Hey, hubs. How’s about you bend over for me and let me try out my new paddle?’ ” She tried to sound flippant, but Ruby heard the sadness in her friend’s voice.
“You just need to make time to talk with him.”
“I know,” she said and changed the subject. “I’m going to call the Riders’ manager and hammer out a final date for the Fling.” She picked up her phone and dialed.
Ruby let it drop. She wanted to help Meg, but she wasn’t sure how. She wasn’t even sure if she was handling her own love life with the caution she should be. No matter how hard she tried to tell herself this thing with Mark was casual sex, after last night she knew it was so much more than that. She’d opened herself up to him, physically and emotionally, and he’d gotten into her head.
And she couldn’t get that damn smell of jasmine out of her nose!
She went to the bathroom to wash her hands one more time, trying to get rid of the scent, and she returned to their office just in time to see Meg flipping her phone shut. “You’re not going to believe this, but the Riders can only perform on the twenty-eighth.”
“What?”
“Yup.” Meg nodded. “Their manager said they’re booked solid after that.”
Ruby did a quick calculation. “That’s three weeks away.”
“Yup.”
“Three weeks?” Ruby dropped into the chair behind her desk. “Three measly weeks?”
Meg crossed the office to the bookshelf. “You know, no matter how many times you say it, you’re still only going to have three weeks to plan this Spring Fling.”