For 100 Days(26)

He’s shaking his head, those shrewd blue eyes far too cynical to believe a word I’m saying.

“I want to see you. I want you in my bed again.”

I struggle to maintain my resolve. “What if that’s not what I want?”

His brows rise as if he’d never considered I might refuse him. But then his fingers slide through my hair to the tender skin of my nape and I’m already melting. As much as I want to think I can walk away from this man and forget him after last night, my full body response to his touch clearly disputes that.

“I want you, Avery. I will see you again when I return.”

Before I can manage another protest, he bends his head to mine and kisses me. His tongue breaches the seam of my lips, possessive and so hot I feel his demanding licks all the way to my core. I moan as I lean into him, fighting a losing battle.

When he draws back, his sensual, wicked mouth is curved in a pirate’s smile. “Like I told you last night, when I see something I want, I reach for it.”

Then, apparently to prove that point, his hand slips between my thighs to the furnace of wet heat already burning there. His breath leaks out of him on a ragged curse. We’re standing close enough that I can feel the hard ridge of his erection. He’s just as aroused as I am.

“Fuck it,” he rasps thickly, his hands already working the zipper of my jeans loose. “My driver will have to wait.”





Chapter 12



I’m still floating when I begin my Monday night shift at Vendange. The satiated haze Nick left me in when I stepped out of his penthouse this morning has barely faded all these hours later. I’d like to blame that early morning assault on my senses for the fact that I not only agreed to see him when he gets back from London, but I even gave him my phone number—something I never do.

So much for playing it safe or sticking to my resolve that I wasn’t going to let our one-night stand progress any further. But our one night and the morning after was beyond amazing, and I’m learning pretty quickly that Nick Baine is a difficult man to resist.

Make that impossible.

When I see something I want, I reach for it.

God, did he ever.

With his hands, his mouth, his wicked tongue . . . his insatiable cock. I didn’t think I had anything left in me to give, yet he proved me wrong time and time again. I’d barely been able to walk steadily after we parted and I made my way back to the fifth floor apartment. Walk of shame? Not even close. I’d never felt so shameless. So alive.

I still do. A smile curves my lips and I don’t even try to bite it back. Nor can I curb the twinge of arousal that ignites inside me just thinking about him.

“How’s it going, Ave?” Tasha’s voice snaps me back to reality. We’ve been so busy, she and I have hardly had a chance to say hello. But now she’s standing next to me behind the bar, shaking a martini for a customer a few seats down. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“Why?” She arches a brow at me as she skewers two olives and dunks them in the martini. “You’re pouring chardonnay in a pilsner glass, for starters.”

I glance down at what I’m doing and wince to see she’s right. “Oh, shit.”

Tasha chuckles and leaves to serve her drink while I correct my error behind the bar. When she comes back, I brace myself for the inevitable interrogation. “So, what’s going on with you?” She tilts her head at me. “Your recent change of scenery sure agrees with you. You look . . . different somehow.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” She studies me closer now. “You haven’t stopped smiling since you clocked in tonight.”

“I haven’t?” I glance at her and my smile spreads over my face, derailing any attempt to play it cool. Then I laugh, and I’m totally busted before her shakedown has even begun.

“Oh. My. God.” Her brown eyes go wide. “I know that look. Granted, I’ve never seen it on you before. But, girl, that look says it all.” Her voice drops to a private level. “You did it. You got laid, didn’t you?”

Fire creeps into my face and I’m just thankful for the music and the din of conversation that lets me keep at least a little of my dignity intact.

“When?” Tasha asks. “And with who? You haven’t even told me you’re seeing someone.”

“Because I’m not seeing anyone. Or I wasn’t. I’m not. It’s not like that.” I shake my head, unsure how I would describe what happened between Nick and me. “It was sex, that’s all.”

“Oh, that’s all,” she prompts, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. “That’s why you’ve been acting so giddy and distracted? Just some random sex, no big deal.”