man on vacation is my legal name.” Lips quirked, dry tone, Abe Royal was flirting with me.
“Don’t you dare try to get out of the hot seat.” I pointed my marshmallow stick right at his heart. “Truth for truth. You know the drill.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Honestly? I’m not quite sure. I’ve never done that before. I’ve picked up women, enjoyed sex with strangers where we only exchange first names and pertinent health information. But never once have I given no name on purpose.”
I mirrored his earlier action, waiting for the truth to appear.
“I do need a vacation.” He sighed. “And I really, truly have not had fun in an awfully long time. You were…” He paused, ran his tongue along his lower lip. “You were the most captivating woman I had ever seen, Sloane. Not being an obsessed workaholic for one night—not being Abraham Royal—was suddenly a very alluring option for me.”
This time, I handed him a marshmallow. He took it, popped it into his mouth with sparkling eyes. I laughed. “Talk about alluring.”
He swallowed. “Did that answer your question?”
I nodded, bit my lip. “There’s a real thrill in being another person for a night. Flirting with a stranger at a bar for no reason other than the pleasure of it.”
“Does breaking the rules give you a thrill?” He was still staring at my mouth.
“Not usually,” I said, heart beating fast at his nearness, the scrape in his voice. “Only if I see the action as a means to a greater end. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do, for example, to bring down a person as evil as Bernard. Even if that means bending the rules a little.”
“We do that too,” he said. Swallowed hard. “At Codex.”
“Do you like bending the rules?” I asked, transfixed.
Abe slipped his own thumb between his lips—just the tip—sucking sticky sweetness from the end. Desire was a drumbeat between my legs. If I touched myself now, I knew I’d be wet.
“I am usually well-known for my integrity,” he admitted. “And my stoicism. Chaos, spontaneity, fun…” He paused. “These things aren’t in my repertoire. Makes integrity and conforming to the rules a lot easier.”
“Should fun become part of your repertoire?”
His thumb swiped across his bottom lip. “I never thought so before,” he whispered. “Perhaps I need to open myself up to being convinced.”
He wrapped his fingers delicately around my wrist. Just held it there. Tightly. “I’ve enjoyed bending the rules for Codex more than I’ve ever actually admitted. To anyone.”
“What would convince you to break a rule now?” I was fucking spellbound. Abe brought my hand toward his face. Turned it left and right. My index finger was still covered in sugar.
He stared at me, arched one brow. I knew what he was searching for—any signs of unease.
I had none. So I pushed my finger against his lips, granting permission.
He took the digit into his mouth.
My breath caught; my sex clenched. I felt his tongue, the light scrape of his teeth. In slow, dreamy motion, he dipped his mouth to my palm, tasted the sugar there. Kissed it. Kissed right below it. Kissed the pulse point at my wrist. Slid my thumb between his lips.
Bit down. He appeared savage in the most intoxicating way. I was burning up with lust and frozen in place—enraptured, entranced. He kissed my wrist again, an inch lower. Lingered, exploring me, inhaling me.
“Abe,” I said, voice a velvet plea.
“Ask me again,” he demanded.
“What would convince you to break a rule now?”
He scraped his teeth across my skin. And pinned me in place with a gaze full of dangerous things. “You, Sloane.”
25
Sloane
You, Sloane.
Every remaining rational, logical thought in my brain fled at the speed of light. The fire crackled next to us, surrounded by green, leafy privacy, enveloping us in electric heat and seductive darkness.
Abe’s lips continued their journey up the inside of my forearm, the crease of my elbow. His other hand slid around my waist, palm big, firm, confident. Held me close to him, so close my leg rose, curved against his body.
“When we… when we first met,” I whispered. “You told me I’d know when you were about to kiss me.” He scraped his teeth across the ball of my shoulder. I shuddered, skin buzzing.
“I’m about to kiss you, Sloane,” he said, the words rough, hot, vibrating with need. His mouth moved across my collarbone—each kiss sure. Hard. Singular. My hand flattened against his firm belly, slid up the planes of his chest. The other gripped the hair