Sinfully Sweet

“Well, yes, that too,” she said, her eyes a bright shade of blue. “Along with what we’re about to do.”

She made it all sound so clinical, and while he was pretty certain where this conversation was headed, he wanted to hear what was on her mind. “And what are we about to do?” he asked curiously.

She shrugged her smooth, bare shoulders, making his fingers itch all over again to touch that soft, creamy- looking skin. “Have a…I don’t know…a fling.”

“A fling,” he repeated dully, hating how sordid that sounded.

She waved a hand in the air between them. “A tryst, an affair, whatever you want to call it.”

He wanted to call it the start of a relationship, but kept his remark to himself for the time being.

So much for his worry of scaring her off tonight, he thought wryly. She was forging full steam ahead, but not without taking obvious protective measures so that her emotions stayed out of the equation.

He realized she had deep-rooted fears. He just didn’t know the cause of them, and he was determined to discover those reasons over the course of the next few days.

She set the box of strawberries on the coffee table, but didn’t sit down. “Before we go any further, I think it would be smart of us to lay out some ground rules.”

He nearly laughed at the fact that she felt it necessary to issue stipulations, but caught himself just in time. “I don’t have any rules.”

Her stubborn chin lifted a fraction. “Well, you’re used to this kind of thing, and I’m not.”

A grin quirked the corner of his mouth. He didn’t bother to correct her belief that he indulged in affairs on a whim, because hewasn’t certain she’d trust him at this point. But her assumption was far from the truth. Sure, he’d dated a lot of women over the years, but that didn’t mean he slept with every single one of them.

She obviously needed these boundaries between them, and he supposed if he knew what they were right up front, he’d at least have the advantage of knowing what he was dealing with. Besides, if the restrictions made her feel better and more comfortable with him, then he wasn’t going to argue.

He settled himself in the middle of the sofa and rested his arms across the top cushions. “Okay, let’s hear what you have to say.”

She paced the carpeted floor in front of the coffee table, as if moving helped to ease her anxiety. “I’m sure this first request isn’t going to be a difficult one for you, but I need to say it anyway. This affair goes no further than this weekend here at The Delaford. Whatever happens here, stays here. Once Celeste and Greg’s wedding is over, then so are we.”

Hell, no, he wanted to say, but instead clenched his jaw tight and continued to listen to her idiotic guidelines. He was too afraid that if he refuted her first rule she’d back out of the deal completely, and that wasn’t an option for him. He didn’t want a relationship with Rebecca to end before it even had a chance to begin.

“Secondly, I want to be sure that after this weekend is over and we go our separate ways, that we’ll still be friends,” she went on, meeting his gaze. “My sister is going to be married to your best friend, and I’m sure we’ll run into one another socially quite a bit.”

God, she was killing the mood, and they hadn’t even had a chance to enjoy an evening together. “Being friends isn’t a problem for me.” Because if he had his way, they’d be friends and much more than that before the weekend was finished.

“Good,” she said, nodding succinctly. “And finally, I need to be assured that no one is going to find out about us. I don’t want Celeste to know about our affair, and I want you to promise me that you won’t say anything to Greg, who would then tell my sister. Oh, and when we’re in public together, there will be no open displays of affection, or anything else that will draw attention to the fact that we’re…lovers.”

She was making his head spin with all her too rational rules. If he did anything this weekend, he was going to make sure he ruffled that sensible, pragmatic personality of hers, but good. Show her how to loosen up and have fun.

He also wanted to show that “opposites do attract,” as the message in his chocolate heart half had said. He’d opened it when he’d returned to his room and been pleased at how perfectly suited the words were to the situation.

Starting right now.

“Rebecca?” he said in a soft, low tone that was meant to calm and soothe.

She stopped her brisk pacing, her expression still reflecting a bit of uncertainty he was determined to chase away. “Yes?”

“Come here and sit down.” He sat up and patted the spot right next to him. “You’re way over-thinking this.”

She hesitated a moment, then rounded the table and perched herself on the farthest edge of the sofa cushion. She folded her hands in her lap, her spine way too stiff and proper. “I just don’t want either one of us to have any false expectations of what this is about.”

Connor assumed she was talking more about herself than him, considering she’d already pegged him as the playboy type.

God, he so wanted to tumble her back on the couch and mess up her too perfect hair with his fingers, and kiss her glossy lips until every inch of her softened and she moaned just for him. Instead, he settled for reaching over to brush the back of his knuckles along her cheek.

“Sweetheart, I know what this is about,” he said, watching the way her breathing slowed and deepened as he continued to caress the side of her neck with his fingers. “It’s about you, and me, and acting on an attraction that’s been simmering a long time. And now, here’s my rule.”

A slow, sweet smile curved the corner of her mouth as she cast him a side-long glance. “I thought you said you didn’t have any rules.”

“This one is absolutely necessary.” Because without it, she’d remain too aloof and uptight. “I want you to relax and enjoy yourself this weekend with me. Do whatever feels good without rationalizing every little thing. Do you think you can do that?”

She eyed the Sinfully Sweet box she’d brought with her, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she returned her sheepish gaze back to his. “Feed me one of those chocolate-covered strawberries, and I think I can do just about anything.”

If that wasn’t an invitation, he didn’t know what was. And there was no way he was going to refuse such a prime opportunity to turn this all too serious conversation into something far more fun and seductive. “Now that would be my absolute pleasure.”

He unwrapped one of the treats, but instead of giving it to her as she was anticipating, he took a bite off the tip for himself.

“Hey,” she said with a throaty laugh that lit up her eyes. “That’s the best part.”

“Ummm. Not quite, but it’s definitely very good.” He lifted the strawberry to her lips and fed her a piece.

She sighed and moaned her enjoyment as she nibbled and ate the fruit slowly and thoroughly, seemingly more and more aroused with each bite she took. Her eyes glazed over and her expression took on a dreamy, rapturous look that made him hard. Juice from the strawberry trickled down his hand, and to his shock and pleasure, she closed her eyes and licked away the sticky sweetness with long, silky laps of her tongue, then closed her mouth over the tip of his finger and sucked.

He nearly came undone right then and there. Somewhere along the way she’d gone from demure and cautious to an outright temptress. Not that he was complaining about the thrilling transformation. Hell, this was how he’d always dreamed she’d be with him.

There was nothing left to the strawberry but the stem, and he pulled away just long enough to set it aside and turn down the lamp next to the couch, which left the light in the far bedroom as their only source of illumination. Then he framed Rebecca’s beautifully flushed face in his hands, reveling in the fact that she didn’t appear the least bit resistant to what he was obviously about to do.

“Now this is the best part,” he said huskily, and brought his mouth to hers.

He kissed her softly, tentatively, at first, despite the instinctive male urge to take and possess and claim. He nibbled on her bottom lip, then stroked the fullness with his tongue, gently feasting on her as though she were a rare delicacy and he couldn’t get enough of her-which he suddenly couldn’t. After years of wanting Rebecca Moore, he was ravenous for her, and keeping a tight rein on his control took every ounce of willpower in him.

She sighed, returning his heated kisses with a slow building urgency that finally gave way to hunger and need.