What in the entire hell?
She felt like she was forgiving him for something and repledging herself to him. Giving her all to this kiss, pressing her body against his, while his hands moved up and down her back in a way that conveyed compassion, longing, need.
Before she could figure out what was actually happening, a bell sounded loudly throughout the room. Maurice jerked away from her, and when she looked around many of the other couples looked equally confused.
“I know it’s just getting good,” Mr. Athlete crooned. “But there’s more. Now, there’re bound to be instances when the argument you have with your partner is warranted, and a real discussion needs to be had about whatever that issue is. But sometimes, fights can be about something dumb. Maybe someone forgot to clean the shower when they were done and didn’t empty the dishwasher in the same day, and the other is fed up.”
Maurice had settled back, still on her beanbag chair, his arm now wrapped around her shoulders.
“But here’s the thing,” Ms. Congeniality chimed in. “You love him. You most certainly love the way he goes down on you.”
Oh, hell no! She was definitely not spreading her legs in this room with all these people so that Maurice could put his mouth on her already damp pussy the way he had last night.
At the sound of appreciative murmurs from the crowd, Mr. Athlete nodded and grinned. “Yeah, you know he brings it home every time he sets his mouth on you. So when it’s a little disagreement, it might be a better use of that energy to let him prop you up on the kitchen counter and have you for dessert.”
Desta pressed her thighs tightly together, then eased them apart when she thought Maurice might’ve seen her reflexive reaction.
“I’d love having you for dessert.” The words sounded so husky and so hot coming from him she almost came right then and there.
Instead, she focused on the steady movement of his hand on her shoulder, so strong and possessive. That last word gave her pause. But then his other hand moved to her thigh, resting there with a punch of searing heat.
“You ever have make-up sex that made you forget what the argument was even about?” he asked. “I mean, sex that just took away every coherent thought from your mind?”
Why was he doing this? Why was he making this so difficult for her?
“No,” she said after inhaling a shaky breath. “I haven’t had a lot of make-up sex.” Gordon’s apologetic gestures came in the form of a delivery guy handing her a gift—a diamond necklace, a pair of Louboutin pumps, an Yves Saint Laurent bag. “Sometimes people should have to work harder for forgiveness.”
She shouldn’t have said that last part. When she looked at him, it was to see him giving a knowing nod. But he didn’t know; he couldn’t. She’d never told anyone what had truly happened between her and her ex-fiancé, not even her family.
“I don’t get a lot of make-up sex, either. Disagreements rarely arise when you make your position clear right off the bat.” That’s right, he wouldn’t have a disagreement about not doing the dishes because he never stayed with anyone long enough to dirty dishes in the first place. “But I’m beginning to think I’d like making up with you.”
Okay, this wasn’t going well for her. The volleying back and forth between her past and these new and strange feelings his presence was evoking in her were going to drive her nuts.
“Whew! That was something for the first round. Let’s take a break before anyone starts to get naked.” Ms. Congeniality offered a smile that Desta wanted to smack right off her cute face. “Go grab yourselves a mimosa, and we’ll move on to the next round in a few minutes.”
“Thank goodness,” Desta mumbled, forgetting Maurice was still close enough to hear her.
He chuckled. “You thirsty?”
She shook her head. She was horny and confused. “Not really, but I could use a break. This session is giving a lot of information that I don’t think I’ll be forgetting anytime soon.”
“Really? My kisses are that memorable, huh?” He was smug and arrogant, and too damn sexy when he was being both.
“Hush up and go get us a drink.” She really needed some space from him, even if for just a few minutes, to clear her mind.
“Cool. I get it if you need a few minutes to gather yourself after that great kiss.”
“Don’t kid yourself, it wasn’t that great.” Of course, she was lying. “But that line’s getting longer for the drinks.” His kiss had seared a hole straight through her soul and made the insistent memories of Gordon during this time even more puzzling.
Maurice didn’t believe her, anyway. She could see it in the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. But he did get up and walk away, and she watched him go, all the while wondering what she’d gotten herself into and how the hell she was going to train her body not to respond to his touch come Monday morning.
CHAPTER SIX
SOMETIMES PEOPLE SHOULD have to work harder for forgiveness.
Did she know about India and the guilt he carried for months after the accident? She couldn’t have. No charges had been filed, and as soon as India was out of the coma, her parents had flown her to some hospital in Switzerland for extensive therapy. As far as Maurice knew, she’d never returned to the States. Which meant he would never have the chance to tell her how sorry he was, again.
No, he was fairly certain Des had no idea of just how reckless he could be. After the accident, he’d spent the remaining years in college—and all of his adult life—trying to forget that night had ever happened. And in doing so, he’d created a totally different persona, the one that was too carefree to look for love...because he didn’t deserve to find happiness after what he’d done.
If Des wasn’t
