Resisting Mr. Kane (London Mister #2)(41)

I roll my eyes. “There are pictures of you all over the internet with different women. Don’t tell me you’ve been pining for me. Is this how you woo women?”

His lips twitch. “So, you did some research on me. Don’t believe everything you read. Stories are exaggerated. I’m often photographed at events. And it’s not a line. I think about you all the time.”

I rub my hands down my dress and stare back at him. “Oh, really? What do you think about?”

My traitorous eyes travel down his broad shoulders and wide chest ogling every muscle along the way until they land on his thighs. They are clothed in an expensive tailored suit that did nothing to stop the memories flooding back. I loved his naked thighs. They made me feel small and feminine.

He waits until I meet his gaze before he talks. “I haven’t seen you in months but I can still remember your body like it was yesterday. I think about that first night, in the water. Your underwear was soaked through, showing me every curve, every line of your beautiful body. I was so turned on, I wanted you there and then.” His lips twitch at the corners. “Should I go on?”

No, throw me out the fucking window. It's been months since I had sex. If he were to invite himself up my dress right now, I’m not sure I would have the willpower to resist.

I keep my eyes trained on his, afraid to breathe.

“You took my goddamn breath away. Then you let me, no, invited me to touch you. You were so wet, so ready for me. Those little breathy moans you made ruined me.”

My heart slams in my throat as I hang on every word.

“In the hotel room, you came over and over again, clenching on me like you couldn’t get enough. I can picture it so vividly.”

My eyes widen. This man should be a narrator for an erotic novel. I try to steady myself. If I attempt to talk, I’m not sure what will come out.

“I’ve thought about you every night since. I need to taste you again, Elly.” It sounds like a demand more than a request.

“What?” I squawk. How can he be so comfortable while I’m the opposite? I jabber at the window switch to put the window down. I need to let out some of this sexual tension. It’s too hot in this big black car. My bare legs feel taut and sweaty against the leather upholstery. I need fresh air fast.

He doesn't take his eyes off me. “If I had my way, I would take you back to mine and spend the entire night reminding you how good I can make you feel. But first, I would make you beg. Tease you until you can’t take it anymore. Then I would spend hours making you come so hard that everyone in London hears you screaming.”

My treacherous legs part. I can’t think past the carnal urge to act out his story.

One of his brows rise. “You want that too, Elly, don’t you?”

Fuck yeah, I want that. My body is craving, aching for him to touch me there. I put the bottle to my lips hoping he doesn't notice my shaky hand and resist the urge to pour the cold water over my head.

“It’s just sex,” I say in a hard tone.

He looks at me as if he’s considering the statement. “No.” His mouth quirks. “My little stress ball. Let me take you to dinner. The date we had in Mykonos…I can’t forget it easily. I want that again. So do you, Elly. It’s written all over your face.”

I take a deep breath. “I can’t,” I whisper. “How many women have you had sex with since me?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Why does that matter? I’m single.”

It matters to me.

“You expected me to stay celibate waiting to find you, Elly?” His voice softens. “I have needs. Look, I won’t be pursuing anyone else when I’m with you. It’s you I imagine lying on top of me every night. It’s you that I can’t get out of my head.”

I swallow hard.

“Give me one chance,” he says finally. “If you tell me you aren’t interested, then I’ll leave you alone.”

The car slows to a halt outside my house. I hadn’t even realised we were on my street.

“Where do you live?” I ask curiously.

He looks sheepish. “Holland Park.”

“Holland Park?” I stare at him as my brain misfires. “But we’ve just come from there.”

“I took the scenic route home,” he admits. “Seems I enjoy the scenery in Tooting. So, Elly?” He asks like a boss instructing a subordinate, not a man asking a woman on a date. “Shall I pick you up at eight for dinner?”

I summon every ounce of willpower I have left.

“It’s not a good idea,” I say under my breath, fumbling with the door handle. I need to get out of this car before doing something I regret. “Goodbye, Tristan.”

I yank the door open, jump out of the car, and shut the door.





14




Elly

“Holy God, I’m hot just listening to that story,” Megan shrieks as she takes a strand of my hair and wraps it in the curling iron. For years I’ve been Megan’s guinea pig. “I’ve never had a man talk that dirty to me. Scrap that, I’ve never had a man be that dirty to me.”

“That was the PG version,” I mutter, flinching as she scalds my ear. “The unedited version is a lot raunchier. No wonder he invested in an isolation partition in his car.”