Sweet Seduction - Maya Banks Page 0,65

sitting upstairs in the drawer of my dresser."

"We can get it later. All that matters right now is you and me." She squirmed with excitement on his lap. "I'm getting married. Holy hell, that's scary!"

He administered a light smack to her hip. "Marrying me should not be in the least bit scary. You should be swooning with joy."

She grinned. "Okay, I'll stand up and swoon but if you don't catch me, I'm going to kick your ass."

"I'd rather carry you upstairs, tie you to my bed and make love to you all afternoon long. Then maybe I'll let you up so we can call our families."

"And they say romance is dead," she murmured as she closed her mouth over his.

Somewhere between the melancholy and the ass kicking, Julie's self-disgust overpowered everything else. Which was good, because there was only so much wallowing she could take.

Yeah, Damon and Serena hit her hard, but they were Damon and Serena. Julie was . . . well, she was Julie. Looking at someone else's relationship for the answers was like reading about a romance novel hero and expecting to find a carbon copy in real life.

Smart women didn't do either. And above all, she was a smart woman.

After boiling in a bathtub for the better part of the afternoon, she applied fourteen different types of girly garb, painted her toenails, did all the waxing she could reach and went digging through her freezer for some Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream.

She needed a plan. She wasn't going to, in the words of Serena, allow the kicked puppy to take over. No, that wasn't her style. What would the real Julie do when confronted with Nathan's one-upsmanship?

She smiled around a spoonful of ice cream. The real Julie wouldn't get mad. She'd get even. And that posed all sorts of delectable possibilities.

Luring him in for another massage would never work. He'd see that one coming a mile away. Besides, she was nothing if not original. No, she wanted something bold. Something he'd never see coming in a million years. Something that gave her the upper hand.

Easier said than accomplished, however.

She sighed a little mournfully as she licked the sweetness from the spoon. The only thing that irked her about the entire experience—now that she knew who her mystery men were—was that she hadn't been able to look at Nathan and Micah, especially Nathan, while they were fucking her mindless.

A woman should never be blindfolded when making love to men who looked that good. That was her own stupidity, but then again, if she hadn't made that stipulation, Nathan wouldn't have seized his opportunity.

But still. She groaned as her body went all fiery again just thinking about Nathan's naked body lying over hers, his hips flexing, muscles bulging while he thrust. Even ice cream wasn't going to help this burn.

Micah was probably nice to look at too in the buff, but with Nathan in the room, she doubted she would have even seen Micah. Which was too bad, really. When a woman stopped noticing a good-looking man, she was either in love or struck blind. She was going with the latter, since lust didn't equal love in her world.

She let the spoon rest on her tongue as she stared dreamily into the distance. Nathan Tucker in her bed. Powerless. Hers to do with whatever the hell she wanted. Nathan Tucker tied to her bed. Oh hell yeah. Her girly parts were singing at the idea.

What she could do to a man who could do nothing but lie there and take it. Oh, she'd treat him very, very well. He'd enjoy his captivity before she turned him back into the wild. Mreowl Her chill bumps had chill bumps as she imagined all she could get away with if she had him completely at her mercy.

It would be the perfect payback. A man like him would chafe at being subdued by a little ole woman like her. He'd huff and snarl but in the end she'd bring him gently to heel. He'd be purring like a well-trained kitten by the time she finished pleasuring him.

She frowned as she dug back into the ice cream. As fantasies went, this one was stellar. But the execution. Now there was the deal breaker. How the hell was she going to get Nathan Tucker in her bed, naked and bound?

She could ask Faith for handcuffs—the good police-issue ones, because she didn't want the kind he could break out of in two seconds flat.