A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,41
to piss her off, but he couldn’t resist shifting into the curve of her lovely, round butt. All that soft skin in soft cotton underwear was a balm to his tired body.
“I tidied up the flower beds and edged the lawn. Looks neater now. Should help the place sell.” The fumes from the weed wacker still hung in his nostrils. His way of apologizing.
“Good. Just do me a favor and don’t sell it to anyone you’ve slept with, okay?”
“Deal.” He slid his arm around her waist. She flinched slightly as his fingers touched the bare skin of her stomach, then she relaxed into his touch.
Damn it felt good to have her back, even under these strange circumstances. Yes, it hurt that she’d dumped him so fast when she found out he wasn’t rich, but he could understand her being mad that he misled her.
He’d missed her so much it itched like a raw burn. Those few weeks they’d had together had been a little piece of heaven on earth. She’d brought out a part of him he’d never dared show anyone before—heck, he’d asked her to marry him! He really and truly wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
He’d brought out something new in her too. She’d softened and warmed, come alive. Come out her protective shell.
Shame it was back now, and harder than ever.
She was tough now, with a fierce edge that…drove him crazier than ever.
God he loved her body. Still soft and curvy in all the right places.
He let his fingers play over her stomach.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?” He buried his face in her curls.
“Touching me.” Her stomach quivered under his touch.
“Can’t help it. The bed’s too small.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to…fondle me.”
“Just letting you know that I’m right here if you’ve got any itches need scratching.” Sparring with the sassy new Lizzie got him going even more.
“No, thanks. I prefer cortisone cream.”
“Yeah?” His thumb “accidentally” brushed her nipple, and he noticed with a jolt of pleasure that it was hard. “Sometimes creams don’t work. When the itch is too deep.”
“You’d know.” Her voice was icy. “Scratch any itches for Frankie today? I bet a wrinkled Greek can get tiresome after a while.”
Ouch. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“Do I? Why not? There’s nothing between us but a business agreement so you don’t owe me any debt of fidelity. I’d feel no guilt about sleeping with any handsome, available men who happen to be interested. Not that any are, of course, now I’m flat broke.”
“I know one who is, ” he whispered into her thick hair.
“Trust you to call yourself handsome.”
“I’m not? A guy could get sensitive, especially if his nose got broken.” He teased his tightening erection against her butt.
She stiffened. “I feel an uncomfortable bump. Kindly back off.”
“Maybe there’s a pea under the mattress?”
“I believe it’s a thorn in my side.”
“Aw, come on. Wouldn’t you like to screw me again? Fuck me hard and toss me aside like you did back in the desert? I wouldn’t mind.” His cock throbbed at the memory.
“I hate to repeat myself. Now back off or you’re out on the patio.” She flipped over to face him and her breasts grazed his chest as she glared at him.
“Okay, okay, I’ll be good.” It caused him pain, but he backed off a few inches onto a chilly part of the sheet. “Go on and go to sleep, I’ll do the same.”
She turned over again, flicking her hair in his face, and settled down with her back to him.
You’d think since he was going along with her wacko plan she’d at least share a little affection with him. He didn’t like this whole game she was playing and couldn’t help a nasty feeling it was going to blow up in their faces. But, she felt he owed her and he couldn’t argue with that.
And as long as they were still together, anything was possible.
Chapter 11
Con’s enthusiastic grin sent a stab of guilt straight to Lizzie’s heart as he settled himself into the leather seat of the corporate jet taking them to their surprise destination. She’d convinced the show to fork out for the jet on the grounds that she was the Lizzie Hathaway. The real reason was more practical. If they’d taken a commercial flight to, say, New Orleans, Con might have figured out their destination at the airport and balked.
“Pretty slick.” He fondled the leather armrest like it was a woman’s thigh.