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“Fuck, this has to go.” With an impatient yank, I dragged her dress up. Imani fumbled with the straps and I stilled her hands. “Let me.” Her hands shook as they fell away and her gaze never left mine. Deftly, I unsnapped the hooks holding the dress together on her slim shoulders and tugged it up over her head.

  She lay back, and my eyes devoured every inch of her from her firm, toned legs to the lush curve of her hips, to her flat stomach with the hint of a six-pack. But my focus strayed to her full breasts and dark nipples peeking at me behind delicate lace. I dipped my head, teasing the nipple by blowing a warm breath across the peak, and her breath caught.

  When I grazed the tip with my teeth, Imani laced her fingers into my hair and tugged me closer, as if willing me to take her into my mouth, to suckle her. It wasn't until I wrapped my lips around the nipple that she rocked her heated core along my cock, stroking me with the satin and lace of her panties. Teasing me with the promised heat and slickness of her pussy.

  My hands coasted up her silky-smooth thigh to the elastic of the flimsy material. Shifting the fabric aside, I stroked my fingers over her slippery folds. As soon as my questing fingers tentatively dipped inside her, she raked her fingers over my scalp and a harsh cry tore from her throat.

  I retracted my finger then stroked her again, sliding my finger further. With each glide, I took more of her. Eventually adding another finger as my palm rubbed over her clit. I wanted her as mine. Wanted to know that I'd made her come. "That's it, Angel, come for me, don’t hold back. I want to see it. I need your pussy milking my fingers—your slickness coating them. Show me what you’ll do to my cock when I fuck you.”

  She dragged her eyes open and blinked up at me, our gazes locking as her back bowed. She was coming—and she was fucking incredible. As if timed perfectly to hers, my body fought against the restraint I tried to apply.

  Fuck. Oh God. Blinding light danced on the edges of my vision. As quivers wracked her body and her pussy pulsed around my fingers like they were my cock, I felt pleasure with the force of a tsunami chasing up my spine. No. No, no, no.

  Not now, not like this. I wanted to be inside her.

  Fuck it. I'd never had a moment like this in my life, I wasn’t going to try to stop it. Not that I could.

  Even though I tried to will it from happening, I came—hard. And all I could do was hold her against me tightly for support as my whole body shook. The only sound that registered with me was the sound of my name on Imani’s tongue.

  Chapter Six

  Imani

  Pulsing, throbbing heat between my thighs woke me out of a dead-sleep stupor. My body hummed with electricity. My skin felt alive, and between my thighs, I throbbed, needing... something.

  Oh fuck. My eyelids snapped open, but I lay perfectly still. What the hell had I done? Dry-humped Mr. No-Dirty-Talk. Oh God. And what was worse, dry humping him and letting him get me off was far hotter than anything I’d ever experienced in my life. By miles. No, actually, what was worse was he thought I was an escort. Fantastic.

  I had to get out of there, had to get home. My mind raced as images of the night before came back to me, one by one. What I wore, how I acted, the way Xander had looked at me. The way he’d sucked on my nipples, touched me, and demanded that I come.

  I tried to sit up, but a steel vise held me in place against a heated brick wall.

  No, not a wall. Xander’s chest. Holy fuck, his body was unreal. Last night I’d been so distracted by the sensations in my body, I hadn't taken the time to properly admire his.

  "Morning," he whispered.

  I froze. For the first time in my life, I had no idea what to say. I had absolutely no words for the situation. I cleared my throat. If I stayed calm, I could get up and go. "Uh, hi."

  "You’re about to run from me, aren’t you?" His chest rumbled against my back.

  Hell yes. "No. Uh, of course not. I just wanted a drink. I'm thirsty."

  His chuckle was low and raspy. "You're a terrible liar. I know an escape when I see one."

  I tried to wiggle free, but he held me still. "Can you let me go, please?"

  His lips grazed my nape before he spoke. "Relax, I'm going to let you up. Just… give me a minute."

  He held me tighter, and I resisted the urge to melt into him. This was the harsh light of day, not the cover of night in romantic lighting. Last night I’d been caught up in him. The way he smelled, the way he moved. How he touched me. And all that tension I’d been carrying around dissipated. It had felt great to forget—for a night. To pretend I wasn't myself. And if I was honest, he made me want things. Things I hadn't thought about since I’d had my heart and my trust shattered.

  I knew I’d never get out of his grip until he was ready to let me go. When I relaxed marginally, he asked, "What perfume are you wearing? It's been driving me mad. I’m not entirely sure if it’s your shampoo or your perfume."

  “It's called ‘Don’t get me wrong, baby, but I don’t swallow.’"

  There was a beat of silence, then another, and his cock twitched against my ass. When he spoke, his voice was so low I barely heard the words. "Tell me, Angel, do you swallow?"

  “What’s the point of going down on someone if you don’t swallow?” A hot flush crept over my skin. Oh God, I needed a muzzle. I needed to watch my dirty mind around him. Actually, no, I didn't, because the second I was out of here, I was never going to see him again. I was not going to have this conversation. Not half naked and locked in his embrace. "I thought you were going to let me go?"

  He loosened his grip on me slightly. "I am. I, uh… need to clean up. I would have done it…" His voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. "I would have, you know, after, but I was afraid you'd vanish on me if I took a shower. And I thought maybe we should… talk."

  He was certainly astute, because that had been my plan, if I hadn’t passed the hell out. Last night was the most I’d relaxed in God only knew how long. "Oh." I rolled into his arms to face him, and I was struck by the sheer beauty of his features. I’d had one long-term boyfriend in my life and a couple of drunken pub hookups, but none of them had the same gravitational pull on me that he did. He looked like he was carved by the masters, and those silvery eyes were both arresting and haunting. Not to mention, he certainly knew his way around a woman’s body. This guy didn't have erectile dysfunction, and he clearly wasn’t gay. There was no way a guy like him needed an escort. So what was he doing setting appointments with Miriam? Not your biz.

  His gaze lingered on my mouth, and I sucked in my bottom lip. That was the intensity that had landed me in his bed in the first place. Stay. No. Fuck no. I would not be staying. To become some clichéd song? I didn’t have to see him ever again. I could just forget that I’d temporarily lost my damn mind.

  “I don’t… we don’t… need to talk. I’m not that girl. I’m not going to show up here demanding that you spend time with me or whatever.”

  Xander sighed and dropped his forehead to mine. "I'm going to get a quick shower, and then I’d like to talk to you. I have something I want to ask you. Please promise you’re not going to disappear on me yet. It’s important."

  There was a vulnerability about him that tugged at me. He was certainly all man, as evidenced by the erection nudging my belly, the hard planes of his chest, and his mouthwatering abs. But in the early-morning light, there was childlike openness about him. It pulled at my nurturing instincts. Unable to speak, I nodded.

  He released a long breath and finally let me go. "I'll only be a minute, okay?"

  "Yeah, okay."

  He stood smoothly, and it was clear he took care of his body. And Jesus, fuck me, Christ, that ass was a thing of perfection, with those pinstriped pants hanging loosely off his hips. He didn't turn before entering the adjoining bathroom.

  When the door to the bathroom clicked shut, I sighed. He wanted me to stay. Wanted to talk to me. But the threads of niggling doubt infiltrated my mind. What was there to talk about really?

  It didn’t matter; I
couldn’t stay. This was not a guy I could date. For starters, he frequented prostitutes. Secondly, I got the impression that though he wanted me, he wasn't particularly pleased about it. And finally, the last thing I needed was another Ryan situation. The moment the thought about my ex floated to the surface, I ruthlessly suppressed it again. This guy was not Ryan. He didn't scare me, but there was an edge to him that should. Maybe if I’d paid closer attention to that edge in Ryan, I wouldn’t have ended up where I did.

  He is not Ryan. Logically I knew that. Maybe he wouldn’t hurt me like Ryan had, but I certainly wasn’t taking that risk again. Last night had been a fluke. A stupid moment I wouldn’t be repeating.

  I shivered as my brain started fully functioning. There was the little matter of me taking Miriam’s place last night. Essentially, I’d been there to render services for money. I'd slept with him. Okay, maybe not technically, but I’d gotten him off for money. As far as he was concerned, I was an escort.

  I swallowed hard. The conflicting emotions of shame and desire warred for attention. I’d needed that money, still needed it, but this wasn’t me. Sliding my glance at the envelope on the mantel with the colorful pound notes spilling out, I shuddered. What we’d done last night hadn’t been about money. I couldn’t take it.

  I sat up quickly, and my abdominal muscles protested. So did my hip flexors. It had been a long time since I’d used them in any fashion pertaining to sex. I threw the covers off, shivering in the early-morning air. But now wasn't the time to focus on my chilly toes, it was the time to get the hell up and out of dodge before I had to face my decisions in the cold light of day.

  After dressing quickly, I left the envelope where it lay on the mantel and strode out of the flat as quickly as I could before I was tempted to take it. There had to be another way, and I’d find it.

  Xander

  Something was wrong. I knew it the moment I got out of the shower. She was gone. But knowing it didn’t stop me from calling out for her. "Imani? Are you here?" My heart tripped as I stalked into the bedroom with the towel slung low on my hips.

  The bed was still rumpled, and my dick twitched just thinking about how we'd messed it up. But no Imani. To be sure, I ran into the sitting room to see if she was still there, but no luck. "Fuck."

  On the mantel, the envelope full of cash sat where I’d laid it. Picking it up, I slapped it against my thigh before sinking down on the couch. I’d held her for hours during the night, afraid she’d vanish into the ether. Afraid that I’d wake up to find her gone, having only imagined the night before. I’d even convinced myself that maybe she would go to Paris with me. I’d thought I could hire her. But I looked at the money clutched in my fist, and it became even clearer to me that she was no escort.

  That was the first orgasm I'd had with another person in years, and she'd walked out on me as if she didn’t feel anything last night. It doesn’t matter. So what if she’d run? Not like there weren’t plenty of women in London. If I’d come with her, I could come with someone else. Maybe it was all over. Maybe I was cured now. Wishful thinking.

  "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." But she was the one I wanted. Too bloody bad. You can’t have her. I’d be better off if I could forget her. Maybe last night had nothing to do with her. Liar. Though there was one way to find out.

  This was so fucked up. Why her? And why now? When I was so close to getting everything I wanted. She was a hell of a complication I didn’t need. I had a plan, and chasing after this girl wasn’t part of it.

  Remember what happened the last time you chased after a girl? Yeah. I’d been gutted because Christie hadn’t had any faith in me.

  When I was younger, I’d wondered how fucked up all the shit in my past had made me. Early psychologists had told me that just because I'd been abused by my mother's boyfriend didn’t make me gay, nor did it mean there was anything shameful about sex.

  Logically I knew that. Had known it. I liked girls. Lots of girls. And life had been just fine. I’d buried the past and set a mental dragon to guard the dungeon in case it ever tried to escape. I might have taken a little advantage, especially when I was younger, sleeping with every model I could get my hands on. Every city I’d been to, I’d never slept alone unless I chose to. It might have felt a little empty, but I could function and survive. Eventually I’d fallen for someone and started to settle down.

  But everything had changed five years ago after I saw Silas’s son again. Alistair had apparently been living in the states for some time and had just returned to London. Once we met, the past refused to stay buried. The nightmares had started. And the women… I’d never forget that night.

  Alistair had approached me at a benefit party acting like we were long-lost pals. He’d had the gall to pretend he hadn’t helped destroy my life and Lex’s life. As if he hadn't deliberately shattered me from the inside. Alistair had vowed to ruin me if I kept spouting lies about him. And he’d given me a taste of how bad it could be.

  A week after the benefit, I went home to find Alistair coming out of my place. That twat had told my fiancée just enough about my past for her to doubt me. She didn’t have enough faith in me to believe me, to stand by me. With Christie gone, I spiraled out of control. It hasn’t been pretty. There were so many women, too many, as I tried to fill the void Christie left. But after several months of trying to fuck myself into a stupor, the women became faceless, nameless, warm bodies. And then one night I couldn’t come at all.

  Good thing it didn’t take me long to realize that I could come on my own just fine, but not with company. So I’d found a way to cope. Even if I had wanted a relationship, there was no way I’d want anyone close to that secret. Or the shame I felt after every time I made myself come.

  There was no shame last night. Goddamn it. I had to stop. I’d felt more alive in one night than I had in a long time. Screw what she could do to my body with just a look. I wasn’t going there again.

  I checked the clock and swore. I was late for the RADA shoot with Abbie. I needed to get my shit together. I was supposed to be training her.

  I dressed quickly then snagged my phone out of my coat pocket. Six missed calls. Two of them from Abbie. Bollocks. With the phone braced in position between my shoulder and my ear, I shoved my feet into my shoes.

  Concern laced Abbie’s voice when she answered. "Xander, are you okay?"

  She was worried about me? An uneasy feeling rolled through me. What the hell was that? Guilt? It was foreign; I didn’t recognize it at first. I shoved it aside. "Yeah, all right."

  She breathed a long sigh then said, "I've been worried about you. It's not like you to be late. We’re supposed to be at RADA for the shoot in an hour."

  "Sorry, love." I almost bit back the word, but fuck it. "I overslept. I'll be there in twenty."

  "Okay, I'll wait."

  Guilt—so not an emotion I wanted to repeat. Not a fan at all. I made it a point to be on time to things for her. She was there to learn from me, and I didn’t like robbing her of that time.

  Also, you’re half in love with her. Your brother's fiancée. Except the usual sickening feeling that lurked in the pit of my stomach when I thought of Abbie had eased somewhat. My mind conjured up an image of Imani, and I groaned.

  "Xander, you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do this today. I’ll call and reschedule."

  "No, I'm sure. I'm on my way. Wait for me, please."

  There was a beat of silence. "Uh, okay. But, you're okay though?"

  I knew why she was asking. In less than thirty seconds, I’d already said both please and sorry. It was unlike me. "Yep, just knackered. On my way." I hung up with her before I could say anything stupid.

  As I ran out the door, I rang Miriam. She answered on the first ring. “Xander, what the fuck?”

  “You’re taking the piss, right? You sent me a replacement last night.”

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t supposed to shag her. She wasn’t a bloody escort. Just a friend who needed the dosh.”

  “
Miriam, this is so fucked up.” I pinched the bridge of my nose as I unlocked my car. “Is she—“ I swallowed hard as the question filtered through my brain. “Is she okay? She sort of skipped out on me.”

  “I didn’t talk to her. She just left me a message that said she wouldn’t be doing that again and that she’d left the money behind.” She gave a mirthless chuckle. “In the two years you’ve been coming to me, you’ve never shagged me. God, I swore you were gay. It was the only reason I sent her.”

  Gay? Seriously? “No. Not gay. And I didn’t shag her.” I slid into the front seat of my Pagani Huayra. “Not exactly, anyway. Look. It’s complicated. Do you know how I can find her?” Fuck, I sounded like a desperate twat. That’s because you are a desperate twat.

  “I have her number, but there’s no way I’m giving it to you without her permission.”

  Fuck. “Get her fucking permission and give it to me. I need to talk to her.” I needed to do a lot more than talk to her. My gut twisted. What the hell was so special about her? She was beautiful, sure, but it was more than that.

  “Fine, I’ll ask. What was so urgent you wanted to see me last night anyway?”

  Paris. But did I still want to take her? Last night, while I’d been holding Imani, my sex-dazed brain had entertained the possibility that she could go with me. If that was even her name. At least I wouldn’t have to fake a connection to someone while under that kind of scrutiny. At least I wouldn’t have to be alone.

  “I’ll talk to you about it later.” You need her. Maybe not. I might find Imani first.

  Chapter Seven

  Imani

  "You don’t have to be nervous, you know. It’s going to be great. You’re my star."

  I rolled my shoulders and forced a smile for my director and mentor, Charles Adams. Without him, I probably never would have made it through the program. “I’m hardly a star, Charles. I’ll be less nervous if you just tell me who my costar is.” It had been announced nearly two weeks ago that I would be starring as Carmen. But at the time of my announcement, they had still been looking for the male lead. It wasn’t uncommon to use an alumnus. My vote was for Matthew Macfadyen or Tom Hiddleston if that were the case. Though I was not possibly that lucky.