SHE NEVER DID anything without a plan. That didn’t mean it had to be a smart plan. But she didn’t show up to anything unprepared.
She did have a plan. Of course, she’d had one since last night, and she had made her decision this morning when she had sent the email.
And now she was shaking. Now, she had no idea what she had been thinking. She wanted him. That was what she knew. Beyond that...it was a good idea, a stupid idea, one that was going to end up with her heart being ripped from her chest and stuck onto a pike, she didn’t know.
But she knew when she looked at him her heart sped up, she knew when he had gotten so close to her last night, when she had imagined that he might kiss her, her entire body had lit up, come alive in a way that it never had before.
And she...
She had convinced herself that she owed her body this chance.
To get on the train that had gone by her all those years ago. There was nothing keeping her from climbing right on board now. Nothing except common sense.
She wasn’t sure she cared about common sense right about now. Wasn’t sure she cared about anything except for the deep, raging need that was threatening to swamp her utterly and completely.
She’d felt desire before. She’d been turned on before. She’d been married for ten years, after all.
This was...this was like nothing else. Like a totally separate feeling. Maybe she was a different woman. More confident. More certain of what she wanted.
Or maybe it was different because it was him.
Wyatt Dodge. The last man on earth she should sleep with.
The only man on earth she wanted.
No one had to know. It was just her and Wyatt. Her, Wyatt and the scathing feelings that they both had about love. About relationships.
She didn’t know anything about Wyatt’s love life, it was true. Beyond the fact that he had a love-them-and-leave-them kind of spirit. But a cynical soul could sense its own, and she had a feeling that he was no more a believer in love and happy endings than she was. His reasons were his own, and they could stay his own.
His body...she kind of wanted that to be hers.
He was staring at her, his dark eyes glittering. There was a sharpness to them she had never seen before. An intensity that she had barely caught a glimpse of last night when they were standing beneath those streetlights.
“I hope you’re done thinking now,” he said, his voice hard-edged and gravelly.
And then, she found herself being pulled down from the chair, his strong arm wrapped around her waist like an iron band. He took her across that distance between them, and brought her down on his lap, her legs on either side of his.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her, covering her mouth with his.
Fire had shot down her veins the moment their lips had connected, but this was like something else entirely. This was an explosion. The heat of Wyatt’s body, his arms around her, the hard ridge of his arousal between her thighs, his mouth. His tongue.
She parted her lips easily for him, angling her head and letting him take it deep.
She had never been kissed like this before. By a man who acted like he was starving for her. And she had never felt like she was starving for a man before either.
She forked her fingers through his hair, pressing her body forward, her knees pushing up against the back of the couch, that hard evidence of his need for her pressing more intensely into that tender place between her legs.
He flexed his hips forward and she gasped, as lightning raced from her center and radiated outward.
She felt like he was going to consume her, completely. And she was going to let him.
No. This was more. It was deeper. She wasn’t just letting him, she was devouring him right back.
She couldn’t pretend this wasn’t years in the making.
So many years when he was forbidden to her. Off-limits.
She had never thought about him in a sexual way while she was married. Nothing beyond that first, blinding incident when she had seen him and known that letting that man get too close to her would be a big, terrible mistake.
But after that...
In the time since, when they had started working together... It had been growing inside of her. Expanding.
Like molten rock building beneath the surface of a dormant volcano.
It was erupting now. All over the damn place. All over her. She was liquid. Fire and heat. Destructive.
He was right. It was going to burn the whole place down, and nothing would be left in its place except ash.
She still didn’t want to stop.
Not ever.
Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it was going to burst through her chest, and then she pressed her palms up against his chest, and she felt he was doing the same thing.
But that was secondary to what else she noticed. How hard he was. How muscular.
She wanted to see him.
She wanted to lick him.
Without thinking, she dragged her fingers down his front, feeling the indent of each of his muscles beneath the thin fabric of his T-shirt as she did. Then she pressed her hands beneath the hem of that shirt and pushed it up. He released his hold on her, only for a moment. Only to grab the T-shirt with one hand and wrench it up over the top of his head, breaking the kiss for a moment as he did.
She whimpered when she saw him. She had never seen such a beautiful man in all her life. Not in a movie. Not on the internet. He was...
It was like he’d been created for her. A made-to-Lindy’s-order man. Taut, lean muscle, covered by just the perfect amount of dark hair. She put her fingertips against his chest and watched as she dragged them down his torso. She bit her lip as she continued her erotic journey, her fingers gliding over hard-cut abs.
“Hey,” he said, his voice rough. “That lip is mine.”
Then he buried his fingers in her hair, pressed her mouth savagely against his. And bit her. Just like she’d done to herself a moment before.
But different. Oh, so very different.
She gasped, letting her head fall back, and he took advantage of the opportunity, angling his head and kissing a line down her neck, stopping at the high neck of her dress.
“This damned dress,” he muttered. He reached down, pressing his hands to her thighs, shoving the dress up higher, and then pushing it up over her head, leaving her in nothing but a black lace bra and matching underwear.
She had prepared after all. She wasn’t going to come to a seduction without matching underwear.
She had standards.
He kissed lower, all the way down to one curve of her breast, to the edge of her bra, before licking his way down the line of her cup. It delved slightly beneath, teasing one tightened nipple.
This was moving so fast. So fast and so intense.
She hadn’t known what she had expected. He had played it so cool last night. He had made it her move.
She had kissed him. Her lips barely brushing his. And then she had moved away. She had expected for him to wait. For him to let her guide the rest. But he wasn’t now.
She was being carried away on the current, in the rushing pleasure that was sweeping her away, pulling her under, his strong arms turning the tides, deciding what happened next.
It terrified her. And yet, that terror was firmly in the back seat for now. Hanging on for dear life. Because the rest of her...the part that was excited, full of need, full of desire like she had never felt before...that part of her was going in headfirst.
That part of her was powerless to do anything but let Wyatt control what was happening between them.
She had given it to him, to this undeniable attraction between them.
She was a woman who always had a plan, for better or for worse.
But this wasn’t her plan anymore.
This was something else entirely. Something beyond thought and rationality.
And it felt so. Damn. Good.
Wyatt reached around behind her and unclipped her bra, the lace falling slack, sliding down her arms. She shimmied, getting rid of it entirely.
He ground out a harsh curse, letting his head fall back as he examined her.
Her heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, her entire body shaking. And she sat there, on his lap, letting him look. No man had ever looked at her like that. Ever. Like it was torture and bliss, like somehow her body contained heaven and hell, and he wanted it either way.
He gripped her hips, moving his hands up slowly, and she thought she might die of anticipation. Need gathered inside her, centering between her legs as those hands, calloused and rough from all the labor he did, made their way over her skin.
She’d never been touched by hands like this. Strong. Hard. Working man’s hands.
He was the kind of guy she would have avoided back when she was younger. The kind of guy she would have thought led nowhere but back into the trailer park.
Maybe it was the kind of guy her body was always destined to respond to. After all, her mother-in-law had been convinced that someday Lindy’s bad blood would rise to the surface. And if that was what was happening here, if that was what was happening now, she didn’t care. Because all that bad blood was heated to boiling because of those hands.
His thumbs skimmed the undersides of her breasts and she gasped, her breathing coming out in short, sharp bursts. He made slow, deliberate progress, his fingers curving around to cup her, his thumb lazily drawing circles back and forth, missing her nipple.
She was going to die. She was going to die right here on her couch because Wyatt Dodge would not touch her the way she needed him to.
It was an inglorious way to go.
Still, she had limited regrets.
But then he did. Then he was there, touching her, pinching her lightly. Her internal muscles tightened in response and she felt a wave of pleasure roll over her, a tremor before the big one.
He growled, wrapping his arm more tightly around her and turning, bringing her with him as he pressed her down to the couch and brought his body down over the top of hers. Her head was propped up slightly by the armrest, one leg draped over the edge of the couch, her bare foot on the floor. And Wyatt right there, pressed against that place where she was wet and needy for him.
He cupped her breasts in his big hands, squeezing gently, before sliding them down her midsection, those calloused thumbs scraping her skin on the way down, an erotic torture that she wasn’t certain she could endure.
She arched her hips upward, gasping when she came into contact with his hard length. Those flimsy panties of hers were no match for that most masculine part of him.
She didn’t want them to be.
She just wanted him.
He hooked his finger into the waistband of her panties, drawing one side of them down, then the other, before grabbing them in the middle and yanking them off the rest of the way.
She forgot to be embarrassed. She couldn’t be embarrassed when he was kissing her like he was, when he was touching her like he was. And when he pressed one hand down there between her legs...
He slid one finger through her folds, his breath hissing, harsh and raw through his teeth as he did. A curse on his lips.
He pushed a finger inside of her and she cried out, rocking against his hand, desperate for release. And he was a man who was clearly more than willing to oblige. He pressed the heel of his palm against that sensitive bundle of nerves there, worked his finger in and out of her body as he pressed hard against her, making a slow, rocking motion that built the need inside of her to unbearable proportions.
He was shirtless, but the blue jeans meant he still had on too many clothes. She skimmed her fingers down his back, glorying in that fine musculature she found there, stopping at the waistband of his jeans, letting her fingertips drift along that dip in his spine just before his ass. An ass she so desperately wanted to get her hands on.
She didn’t think she had ever wanted to touch a man quite this much before.
No, she knew she hadn’t.
She ached with it.
And not simply because he was touching her. But with the anticipation of touching him.
She brought her hands down around between them, working his belt buckle open, sliding his belt through the loops on his jeans and chucking it onto the floor.
He made a noise that fell halfway between a groan and a growl as she unsnapped his jeans and lowered his zipper slowly.
She reached inside, palming him over his boxer briefs. Desire, nerves, skittered through her. It had been a while, and he was a big boy.
He groaned, and she started to push his jeans down.
“Wait,” he rasped, reaching behind him and tugging his wallet from his back pocket, setting it down above her left shoulder.
Then, she set to work pushing his jeans down, hooking her foot over the top of them when they got down to his knees and using her leg to shove them down the rest of the way. He kicked his feet free, and then made quick work of his underwear.
She could see him, all of him, just for a moment. And her throat went dry. Thank God, Wyatt Dodge lived up to the hype. Really and truly. She had wanted him for so long it would be a disappointment if he didn’t.
Of course...something in her had always known he would. That same something that had been captive to him from the first moment she’d set eyes on him.
Like he’d reached inside her right then, in that bar, and taken a piece of her. Only a small one. But big enough that she had felt the loss of it.
Had felt that connection to him ever since.
There was no way he wouldn’t be perfect for her in this way.
She curved her hand around his hard, impressive arousal, squeezing him and watching as that handsome face contorted with pleasure. He closed his eyes, a crease appearing between his brows. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was in pain.
But she knew better.
She worked her hand up and down, watching him carefully as she did, reveling in this moment. This first moment where Wyatt was finally in her hands, right where she wanted him.
“We can go slower later,” he rasped, taking hold of his wallet and tugging out a condom before flinging the leather article down onto the floor.
She wanted...more. Everything. She wasn’t sure she wanted everything this quickly. But, she didn’t want to stop either. Couldn’t stop.
She needed him. Needed him like air.
There was no point holding her breath now to prove a point.
He tore open the condom and rolled it over his length. She mourned the fact that she didn’t get as much time to look at him as she wanted.
She wanted a whole hour just to look at him. At that hard, honed body that she’d been fixated on for so long.
But she could do that later.
Later? Like you’re going to do this again?
She pushed that voice aside. And then, she didn’t even have to work that hard to keep thoughts from invading because everything in her mind was wiped clean as he positioned himself at her slick entrance and began to press forward.
She curled her fingers into his back as he filled her, slowly, thoroughly.
He was thick and perfect. Everything that she wanted. Everything she needed. She curved her legs around his thighs, clinging to his shoulders as he pressed forward slowly, slowly, much too slowly.
And then, he was filling her completely, all the way to the hilt, and withdrawing again, this time bringing himself back into her much more quickly, and with much less gentleness.
That was good. She didn’t want gentle. She didn’t want slow.
This had been building for years. And she needed to let it burn now. To let it ravage everything around them. To let it ravage her.
She needed this. She realized now, with him looking down at her, his brown eyes blazing, his cock filling her. She needed him. This was something important. Something essential.
Something she had known from the moment she had first seen him.
He wasn’t a train she had missed, but one she had been destined to catch later. Something inside of her had clearly known that, even then, that somehow, for some reason, he was an essential stop on the route that was her life.
It made sense now. It felt right.
It felt...
Amazing.
The room closed in around them, until she could only see him, them. Her hands on his shoulders, those strong arms braced on either side of her. The cords in his neck standing out with all that tension and self-control it was taking for him to remain measured now. His square jaw held tight, though sculpted lips parted, his eyes closed.
She couldn’t bear to close her eyes. She wanted to keep watching him. Watching this.
She had known that he had the potential to break her apart, to undo her. But right now...she could see that she had the potential to do the same thing to him. She had never considered that. That she might be able to destroy this big, hard man with her touch.
She had been afraid that letting go of her control with him would make her feel out of her depth. That she would feel like she had always done in situations where she was less experienced, less educated. But she didn’t. Not with him. Never with him.
He wanted her.
That was enough.
Pleasure gathered tight in her midsection, spreading through her body, gripping her, holding her tight as Wyatt pushed them both closer to their release.
The only sound in the room was their breathing, their bodies moving together.
Pleasure built inside of her, a deep, endless well of need that she wasn’t sure she could survive. She was going to keep falling, and never find the bottom. Never find the end. She had never felt anything like this before. Wound so impossibly tight like she was going to break, shatter completely. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, not caring when she felt them sink in. She needed to hold on to him, with everything she had, or she was going to fall apart. Lose herself. Lose him.
She didn’t know what scared her more.
His movements increased, his big body slamming into hers. And it wasn’t enough. Not enough at all.
She whispered in his ear. Words of encouragement. Dirty words. Commands. Harder. Faster.
And then, simply his name. Wyatt.
Wyatt.
Wyatt.
Pleasure bloomed inside of her, suddenly. Brilliant and bright, suspending her free fall, catching her and holding her there until she was suspended in the stars, pops of light and fire going off all around her.
Wyatt grunted, lowering his head and burying his face in her neck as he thrust into her one last time, freezing as he pulsed inside of her, finding his own release. His body shook. That large, well-muscled body, so strong from years of labor. From riding giant, terrifying beasts that wanted nothing more than to kill him.
And yet, riding her had made him shake.
If her orgasm hadn’t already undone her completely, she might have found herself falling apart again.
Instead, she lay there, holding him while his release shuddered through him, brushing her hands through his hair, down over his shoulders, down to his butt. It really was a very nice butt.
It occurred to her then that she had just had very dirty sex on her very white couch.
And she didn’t even care.
She would put a thick velvet rope around this couch and make it a display. She’d buy a new one for people to sit on.
That the room was bright white, bathed in bands of gold from the sun filtering through the window, and lights from inside, caught up with her then.
She wasn’t a prude. Not really. She liked sex a lot.
More now than she had ten minutes ago, to be perfectly honest.
But still...the fact of the matter was, she’d made love with Wyatt Dodge on her couch in the middle of the day, and that was pushing the bounds of propriety. As much as she cared about those. And she was... She was so profoundly naked.
But then again, so was he.
Wyatt sat up, his muscles bunching and shifting as he did, the play of bronzed skin over all that hard definition made her mouth go dry, made her body hum with a little thrill of excitement that should be impossible considering how boneless he had rendered her.
She had never had an orgasm like that in her life. One that consumed her completely. That burned every thought from her mind like alcohol going up under a lit match.
He stood up and she gloried in the side view. That perfectly curved ass and his thick muscular thighs. She didn’t really know she had a thing for men’s thighs. But boy howdy, she had one now.
Reality was starting to try to crowd in to the moment. Trying to get her to acknowledge the fact that she had done something she couldn’t undo. That she had unleashed a whole hell ton of demons and she wasn’t going to be able to banish them again.
Whatever. She was post-orgasm and Wyatt was naked. If the mistake was made, she might as well enjoy it for a moment.
He said nothing, and made his way out of the room and she just...
Her warm fuzzy buzz felt dented. She hadn’t expected him to do that. She didn’t know what she’d expected.
Panic was like a haze over her vision, and it took her a moment to realize that while he’d left the room, he couldn’t have left the house, only the room.
Right. He had protection practicalities to take care of, and he had to leave the room and find a trash for that.
She was being a drama queen. But in fairness to her she’d never had random sex with a random guy. She’d only ever had committed sex with a guy she was planning on marrying, and then of course sex with her husband.
Wyatt was...she wasn’t even sure how much she liked him half the time. He irked her. He got under her skin and under her clothes. But he wasn’t even really a friend. She didn’t know what to do with what had happened between them, even though she’d been totally on board for it to happen.
And now she felt small. Silly and scared.
Insecure.
Wyatt reappeared a moment later and she turned away from him, trying to casually study the cord on her accordion blinds instead of his naked body. Then, much to her relief he turned slightly, moving back to the couch, obscuring the more explicit parts of his body.
She let out a breath.
“Lindy...”
Oh, no she wasn’t going to let him talk first. She wasn’t going to let him guide this.
She cleared her throat. “I have to take back everything I said before. About you bragging. Clearly...clearly it’s somewhat deserved.”
He turned to face her and her cheeks prickled, the pinpricks spreading outward, blooming into heat. Full frontal Wyatt was a whole lot to take in. No pun intended.
He was, after all, only the second man she had ever seen naked in the actual flesh.
Not to be drawing comparisons or anything, but it was difficult not to when there were only two men to compare, after all. It wasn’t like she had a treasure trove of penises in her memory.
Now, Wyatt’s penis was a treasure trove all its own.
“Only somewhat?” he asked, arching one brow.
“Only you,” she said, frowning. “I’m paying you a compliment. Can’t you just be nice?”
“No,” he said. “And frankly—” he grinned “—you would be unhappy if I was.”
Her frown deepened, and she wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“I do,” he said. “Because you like me to be shameless. If I wasn’t shameless... This wouldn’t have happened.”
Lindy huffed out a laugh. “Really?”
She did not know why she was moving forward with this conversation. Naked.
It occurred to her then that she was still lying on her back, somewhat sprawled. And she imagined his view was...interesting at best.
She jackknifed into a sitting position and crossed her legs primly, folding her hands in her lap.
Yeah, she was still naked, but she was going to do what she could to reclaim some of her power.
“Really,” he said, his eyes dropping down toward her breasts, making no effort to hide the fact that he was checking her out.
She sniffed. “Who invited you here? Because this wasn’t your idea.”
“I...” Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips.
She sniffed. “Exactly.”
“You...”
“I seduced you, Wyatt Dodge. Deal with it.”
“I feel used.”
“Good. You should. I used you good.”
“That wasn’t a complaint,” he said. “I liked your style of using me pretty well.”
“Well. So we’re clear. It’s not like you orchestrated this or anything.”
“Right,” he said. “I certainly didn’t lay the groundwork for it last night.”
She sputtered. “I... You...”
“You want me, baby. That’s fine. But don’t act like that isn’t because of anything I did.”
Her lips twitched. She was slightly hoisted by her own petard here. And by the fact that she had been unwilling to let him think that he had somehow manipulated this, when she was the one who had manipulated it. But then, the side effect of that was her confessing the fact that she wanted him.
Not that he wasn’t fully aware of that, since he’d barely touched her and she’d gone up in flames.
Mostly, she had no idea why she was getting all arch and prickly now. Except she was starting to feel small and fragile, and he was standing there gloriously naked and completely unembarrassed. And she was... This wasn’t like her. She felt completely like the inexperienced party now. It had been one thing when she’d been turned on. All easy and simple. But she didn’t know how to play the sophisticate now.
She had waited to have sex with Damien until they were pretty committed to each other. Had held on to her virginity for a very long time.
She didn’t know how to do casual sex. And she knew that Wyatt was a casual sex aficionado.
If you could be an aficionado of something casual. She wasn’t really sure.
“Typical,” she said. “Taking credit for a woman’s seduction. Because you can’t admit that I got the upper hand.”
She screeched as Wyatt mobilized, grabbing hold of her wrists and laying her flat on the couch, his hot, naked body hard over hers.
“Who has the upper hand?” he asked.
“Me,” she said, wiggling impotently against him, her wrists held fast above her head.
A wicked smile curved his lips upward. “Really?”
She parted her legs slightly, and that put his rapidly hardening arousal right into contact with her. “Maybe.”
He closed his eyes, his breath hissing through his teeth. She flexed her hips upward and a spark of need shot through her body.
Wyatt groaned, tilting his head upward, a smile that bordered on pain crossing his face.
“Yeah,” she said. “You seem very in control right about now.”
“I think,” he said, flexing forward and grinding himself over that sensitized bundle of nerves, “we have each other hostage.”
“No,” she said, gasping as the word escaped. “I’m not a hostage. I’m totally fine.”
“Totally,” he said, pressing against her again, “fine.”
“I just had an orgasm. I’m good.”
“That’s aiming awfully low.”
“I’m here with you. I never said I was aiming high.”
He kept her wrists pinned with one hand, and used the other to skim over her curves, teasing her. “I’m wounded.”
She wiggled beneath him again. “You don’t feel wounded.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “It hurts pretty bad. I bet you could kiss it and make it better.”
Heat suffused her face, as she imagined doing just that.
She had her limits, though. There was no way they could... Again. Right now. Right after the first time. They were supposed to be working.
As if this isn’t what you invited him over here for.
Still. There had to be boundaries.
“Open up your binder,” she said.
“I don’t know how much dating you’ve done, I know you were married for a long time, but that’s not exactly dirty talk.”
“I’m not trying to talk dirty to you, Dodge, sit up and get your binder.”
He didn’t comply. Instead, he lowered his head and he kissed her. Long, lingering. Slow. Like they had all the time in the world. Like he wasn’t pressed up against the most vulnerable part of her, blazing with heat and obvious arousal. He didn’t even move the lower half of his body, not at all. It was all lips. Except that they were touching, from chest all the way down to their toes. Completely naked, with nothing between them.
And shamefully, she was the one who started to move. The one who had to do something to try to quiet the intensity of the desire that was building inside of her.
And that was when he chose to sit up.
Bastard.
“What do I need my binder for?”
“Add a new page.”
“You’re demanding,” he said, leaning over and grabbing his binder from the table.
“I am. I’m demanding, and I’m organized. I also like to know exactly what I’m getting into before I get myself into it.”
She had made a decision, while laying on her back with Wyatt pressed against her. She wanted him. If she wanted him again after having him so recently, it was obvious that it was going to keep happening. As long as they were working together they were going to end up in bed together. Or on the couch together. Whatever.
There was no point fighting it. There was only making rules of engagement.
“Okay,” he said.
“We need a new page.”
“A new page,” he repeated her blandly.
“Yes. We have a Get Out of Dodge/Grassroots events page. And we need a Wyatt/Lindy page.”
“Right,” he said slowly.
“Make a page,” she repeated.
He sighed heavily, but took a pen out of his binder and flipped the page, making a new heading.
“All right.”
“What does it say?”
“It has the information that I need,” he said.
She scowled, and then leaned over. “I said to make it Wyatt and Lindy. Not stupid sex rules Lindy made me write down.”
“It’s my binder. Use your binder, Lindy. I’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“Fine,” she said. “I will.”
She grabbed her own binder, making a page with the heading Wyatt/Lindy. “Okay,” she said. “First rule. Nobody knows about this.”
“Why?” he asked, flinging his hands wide. “Everybody knows that we’re attracted to each other. It was the worst kept secret ever.”
“Even still. There is no reason for anyone to know. I want this event to go off without a hitch. And I don’t want anyone thinking that I slept with you in order to make something run more smoothly.”
“Lindy,” he started.
She held up a hand. “Nonnegotiable,” she said. “I’m already in a position where people think that about me, Wyatt,” she said, her voice trembling, more emotion in the words than she wished was there. “Everybody thinks that I’m only where I’m at because of Damien. And the worst part is I can’t even dispute that. Honestly, more or less, it’s true. If it weren’t for him, if I hadn’t married him, I wouldn’t know enough about business to be able to run Grassroots. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have a property like this. What access would I ever have had to anything? The answer is that I would have no access at all. Now I’m partnering with you on something... If I was sleeping with you too... And everyone knew it...”
“Right,” he said, “if that’s what you need, that’s fine.”
But he clearly looked unsettled about it, and for the life of her she didn’t know why.
“It bothers you,” she said.
“I don’t like being your dirty secret,” he said.
“I would think you were used to that.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe that’s why I don’t like it?”
There was a strange amount of heat and vehemence behind the words, not something she would have expected from a man like him. “No,” she said. “It honestly didn’t.”
He shifted. “Do you know what I like? I like having sex with people who are adults. Who don’t have an issue with it.”
“Who treat it casually?”
“Yes,” he responded.
“Well, I’m not that woman. I’ve been with one man, Wyatt. Now two. I don’t take it casually. I can’t. I don’t want a relationship, don’t worry about that. But still, I can’t be blasé and running around like...oh, I just had him inside of me and now we’re here having a droll conversation re—the saucy interlude we had in bed.”
“You what?” He frowned, his brows knitting together.
“Damien was the only man I had ever slept with until fifteen minutes ago,” she said. “So, I’m sorry if I’m not being a sophisticate about it, but I don’t know how to be.”
She let those awkward, uncomfortable words settle between them. They were like shards of glass, cutting down inside of her, exposing her. Making her feel like the exact thing she hated. Ignorant. Unsophisticated. All the things she had spent years battling when she and Damien had been married.
“I don’t know what to say to that,” he said.
“Don’t say anything. But... You have to understand where I’m coming from. You can’t expect me to see it the same way as some guy who slept with like a thousand women sees it.”
“I have not slept with a thousand women.”
“Whatever. You seem like the kind of guy who’s used to making it casual. That’s what Damien always said about you.”
“He’s not wrong. Look, I’m the kind of guy who’s had a lot of access. And as long as everybody’s there for a good time, I don’t see why we can’t have one.”
“And that’s great,” she said. “I am here for that. But, without telling people.”
“All right.”
“Not because it’s you.” Because he had looked kind of stark and terrible, and maybe even wounded when he’d asked if he was her dirty secret, and she didn’t like that at all. So, even though she thought he was kind of a big lug and she doubted he had finer feelings... Just in case, she wanted to make sure she was clear. “That’s not the issue. It’s me and my whole situation. And the fact that I... I want to process this without input from the million wonderful, caring, interfering people in my life. And without any thoughts from the judgmental assholes who hang out on the fringes.”
“Okay,” he said, but she still had a feeling there was an issue.
“Write it down,” she said, and she wrote it down as the first item on her page.
“All right,” he said, “what’s the next item of business.”
“It ends when we’re through working together.”
“Okay,” he said, making a note of that. Apparently, that condition required much less discussion.
She found that vaguely wounding.
“Because... It’s going to be neater that way,” she said.
“I didn’t argue,” he said.
“No,” she said, “you didn’t. Just...providing information.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“I do. This entire thing is riveting. And exactly what I want to do while I’m sitting here naked with you.”
She made an exasperated sound. “That’s the other thing. We have to be able to get our work done.”
“Got it,” he said. “Prioritizing work.”
“Right.”
“So. Secret sex, time limit, work comes first.”
“Sounds good to me,” she proclaimed.
“I’m not sure we need a list.”
“We do. To make sure that we’re on the same page. Well, I guess we’re using different pages, but they say the same thing. Except for your header, which is offensive.”
“I’m going to be offensive,” he said. “In fact, I’m going to write that down. Wyatt Dodge is an offensive asshole and will remain so for the duration.”
Lindy bristled. “Fine.” She wrote down exactly what he had said on her page. “And you can also add that Lindy Parker will be the timekeeper of such events as occur naked. As she feels most comfortable when she’s in charge.”
He laughed, and then suddenly, he tossed down his binder and leaned forward, ripping hers out of her hands.
“What...”
“That’s not happening.” He reached out, wrapped his arm around her waist, and literally threw her over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes.
“Hey,” she said, letting her arms hang limp over his butt, trying to decide what to do next.
“You like it,” he said.
She kicked her feet. “I don’t.”
And then, he slapped her on the bottom. She yelped, and much to her great shame, pleasure spread from where his hand had just made contact through the rest of her body.
“Rules are for later,” he said. “For now, we have the afternoon, and an excuse for where we are. I say we take it.”
Then he started to carry her up the stairs, and she was unable to argue.