“You know the rules, sweetheart. You’re going to ask me like a good little girl.”
“I should tell you to go fuck yourself.”
“But I like fucking you so much more.”
“Bastard.”
“Gorgeous, stubborn woman.”
His words—more flattering than condescending—pushed me even closer to the breaking point.
“Hold on,” he said, then shifted positions and pulled me back off the counter so he could slide a hand under and reach my clit.
“Oh my God.” I moaned the instant he made contact. I wouldn’t last much longer. Not between the angle of his cock dragging against my G-spot and this added mind-blowing pleasure.
“You know what you need to do,” he reminded me without slowing his thrusts, and now adding the most exquisite kind of pressure.
My eyes fluttered shut and my body clamped down on him. I was so close. And then he stilled.
“Please,” I cried.
“Good enough.” Titan’s voice was husky and rough, but he wasted no time in resuming his pace—steady and sure—until I shattered.
This time I bit my lip so I didn’t scream at all, just let the sensations wash over me, wave after wave. Titan let out a roar that would have worried me about waking the neighbors if we’d been anywhere but a couple of blocks off Bourbon Street in a city that never stopped partying.
We both stilled, our heaving breaths the only sounds inside the store. As the crazed intensity of the moment drained away, the reality of what I’d just done set in.
Really professional, Yve. You’re one hell of a businesswoman.
Even now I could feel the sweat dripping off my forehead onto the counter where I plied my trade—not the flesh trade. Classy, indeed.
But I’d invited him here. Part of me had known that this could happen. Would happen.
Titan pushed away from the counter and pulled free of my body.
Would this ever not be ridiculously awkward? With every other one-night stand or fling, I’d developed an easy camaraderie that made this no big deal, but with Titan, it was different.
I levered myself up and searched around for my shorts and tank top. Luckily both were within easy reach. I was already pulling them on when he returned from the little bathroom in the back. He’d zipped his shorts and he’d never taken off his fancy college T-shirt.
Why is this more awkward than last time? It made no sense. Because I couldn’t run? Because we were on my turf?
Titan didn’t seem to feel the awkwardness I did. He looked marginally disappointed at the fact that I was no longer naked.
I grabbed my torn panties off the floor and held them up. “Was this really necessary?”
He smirked, not the least bit contrite. “Seemed the most expedient choice at the time.”
I shoved them in my pocket, not wanting to take the chance of having to explain them to JP in the morning if she happened to check the trash.
“Well, um, thanks for the help,” I said. Smooth, Yve. Really smooth.
Titan’s gaze landed on me and held. “Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?”
“It’s not like we both didn’t know how this would go.”
“And if I’m not done with you?”
“You don’t have much choice now, do you?”
Titan’s expression hardened. “And if I told you I want you to come home with me?”
I thought for a moment about that big claw-foot tub, and being astride the man in front of me while in it. Would he agree to that? Did I dare try?
No. I was keeping this simple. My terms. I say when. I say where. And I needed to go home, regroup, and get myself together.
“I’d say you’re out of luck.”
“Fine. Where’s your car? I’ll walk you out.” His tone was curt, but the gesture was thoughtful . . . and one I wished he’d skipped.
“Car’s at the shop. It’s gonna be a long walk.”
Titan had already turned to head to the door, and he stopped and jerked around abruptly. “The thing had a ton of work done. It should have run fine for another year at least.”
“I know you lied about the bill.”
“Get over it, Yve. What the hell happened?”
“I got here a few hours ago to work on inventory, and forgot I’d left my phone in my car. When I went out to get it, there was a giant puddle of oil under it. I called my cousin—”
“Stevie with the tow truck?”
“Yeah.” I was surprised he remembered. “And he took it back to the garage. I’m hoping they screwed up, and it’s not something new going wrong.”
“You need a new damn car. Something reliable.”
I propped a hand on my hip. “I’ll get right on that, Mr. Titan, as soon as I find someone to give me a loan to buy the business that basically means more to me than anything in my life, and then, you know, stumble onto a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow in the front seat of a new Ferrari.”
He ignored my bitchy remarks and focused on one specific point. “How did your appointment go at the Entrepreneur Fund? Did you go? Or did you skip it just to spite me?”
I wasn’t about to tell him that they’d met with me, looked at my business plan, projections, and references, then had smiled, nodded, and told me they’d be in touch soon.
Soon better be within days. I’d caught sight of the skinny bitch Jennifer again today outside the store, most likely scoping out the foot traffic. I wondered how long it would be before she made her move. I felt like an idiot waiting to talk to Harriet, but pride was a crazy, stupid thing.