Legally Addicted - By Lena Dowling Page 0,28

time it had seemed like an idle remark, but now she knew better. He had obviously planned this so-called strategy weekend to create a scenario where they might end up back in bed together.

But then, how could sleeping together again make things any worse? They could hardly get more naked than they had before, and it’s not like she was going to do anything really dumb, like fall in love with him. And then there was the addiction centre. With Caro’s attitude to her proposal, unless she did something to reweight the scales in her favour it was unlikely it would ever happen.

Why shouldn’t she?

She tossed and turned, with the pros and cons slugging it out. Images of this new Brad, all casual and relaxed, kept screening in her mind, running like a series of movie clips every time she closed her eyes. Her hand wandered down her thigh, poised there, undecided.

She needed relief. But why resort to self-help measures when Brad was ready, willing, probably in the next room by now, and oh so mind-blowingly able?

That decided it.

Brad was responsible for working her up into this state. He could damn well be the one to do something about it, and if she needed any further justification then there was always the greater good of re-establishing intimate relations with the man who could help bring her dream project to fruition. Something Caro thought she was doing already anyway.

She switched the lamp on, got out of bed and stomped back into the hall. Feeling along the wall in the darkened hallway in the direction Brad had indicated, she slipped into his room, closing the door behind her. His own bedside light was still on, and he was sitting up in bed, enticingly bare chested, sipping water from a glass. A single droplet had fallen from the glass, beading on his chest, sliding down towards his nipple.

‘I need you to…’ she faltered.

One side of his mouth rose in a questioning half smile.

‘Pleasure me?’ he suggested.

‘I was going for a much shorter, vernacular expression, but pleasure will do.’

For a split second his eyes opened wide, then he laughed, and flicked back the sheet.

Chapter Seven

‘What made you change your mind?’ Brad asked, even though he didn’t give one of her flying vernaculars as to the reason.

Her thin white cotton nightdress was almost translucent, concealing nothing. The sight of the perfect curve of her breasts and an inviting landing strip of soft blonde hair shimmering through the sheer fabric sent him rock hard, and while he might consider it later, right now he couldn’t have given a monkey’s as to why she had changed her mind and come to him.

‘Heat and lust, I guess.’

As she stepped towards the bed, her body provided the corroborating evidence of her words. Her face flushed a beguiling shade of pink, and her nipples pushed erect against her nightdress.

Georgia was as turned on as he was.

She slipped into bed beside him, and the touch of her skin was a blast of white heat, searing through his body. He swivelled around to grasp her neck, along with a handful of her glossy hair, and pressed his lips to hers, roving her mouth until she met his rhythm. Hesitant at first, she soon matched him with a fervour that challenged him to take control. He pushed her down on to the bed and the softness of her breasts cushioned him as he pinned her with his weight. She tasted delicious, a mixture of scotch and strawberries. A part of him wanted to take his time, but a far stronger instinct urged him on. He pushed his knee between hers, nudging her legs apart.

Then, out of nowhere, he was hit by a lightning bolt of guilt.

He was the one who had set this up and put Georgia in a position where she had come begging for it, but the stakes were much higher for her than they were for him.

He pulled back from her, releasing his weight.

‘Are you sure about this?’

What was he doing, she wondered?

It was blindingly obvious that Brad had staged this weekend to get her into bed, and now he was messing about instead of getting down to it.

In answer, she slid her hand down beneath the elastic of his boxers.

His breath whistled inwards as she caressed him, circling him, running her fingers downwards, stroking with her fingertips the sensitive skin at the spot where his legs joined.

He reared back.

‘Christ, Georgia.’

So he was getting a little hot and bothered too