Cupcakes and Killer Heels

Damn it, he was about to explode.

Cal’s hand squeezed Ruby’s as he hauled her through the bar determined not to let her loose for a second. What had been fun at first, the exhilarating foreplay of flirt and counter-flirt, had turned to a torturous need that was about to send him hurtling over the edge into insanity if he didn’t get her naked really, really soon.

Grabbing his jacket up from the chair, he pulled out his wallet and threw a bunch of twenty-pound notes on the table.

‘It won’t be that much!’ Ruby said as he clasped her hand and led her through the crowd to the exit.

He looked over his shoulder at her flushed face, the lips red where he’d all but devoured her on the dance floor. ‘You want to wait for the change?’

She gave it a moment’s thought, before her full lips spread into a smile. ‘Chantelle’s going to get extremely lucky tonight.’

He laughed, the sound strained. ‘I certainly hope she’s not the only one.’

The still evening air did nothing to quell the heat as he showed Ruby to his car. ‘Where do you live?’ he asked as he yanked open the passenger door.

‘Tufnell Park.’

He slammed the door, then skirted the car and leapt into the driver’s seat. Firing the engine, he shifted into gear.

‘I live on the south end of the Heath.’ The powerful hum of the engine was nothing compared to the driving need in his gut as he roared away from the kerb, then had to brake at the traffic lights on Camden High Road. He glanced at his passenger, fisting his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘My place is closer.’

The smile got bigger. ‘Excellent point.’

Leaning across the steering wheel, he plunged his fingers into her hair and hauled her close—unable to wait another moment to taste her again.

Her lips softened, her tongue tangling with his as he claimed her mouth.

The blast of a car horn forced him to release her as every last ounce of blood surged south. ‘My place it is, then.’

She nodded, looking as dazed as he felt.

He stamped his foot on the accelerator. The screech of burning rubber as they shot away from the intersection made him jerk his foot off the pedal.

Get a grip, Westmore. It’s sex. Not life or death.

He eased out a breath, holding his car under the speed limit as he made the series of turns through the backstreets of Hampstead then drove up the hill past the Heath.

By the time they reached the Victorian mansion block, he’d managed to get his breathing back under control, just about. He adjusted his trousers as he climbed out of the car to ease the pressure. Ruby stepped out the other side, her lush breasts pressing against the thin bodice of her dress. He extended his hand, but, instead of taking it, she clasped her bag to her midriff and a flicker of uncertainty crossed her face.

‘Is there a problem?’ he asked, more curtly than intended.

If she changed her mind now, it would probably cause him a serious injury.

She cleared her throat. ‘Two things.’ She clutched her bag tighter. ‘Firstly, I don’t have protection with me tonight. I wasn’t expecting this.’

The relief that coursed through him almost made his knees give way. He locked them. ‘I have protection,’ he said. He would have used condoms anyway, he always did. But he had to give her points for foresight and practicality, especially as he knew she was as blindsided by lust as he was if her shallow pants were anything to go by. ‘What’s the other thing?’

‘This feels a bit rushed,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘And rushed doesn’t really work for me.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Clearly the loss of blood to his head had damaged his brain cells because he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

She huffed. ‘We’re obviously very attracted to each other.’

Great, so what the hell is the problem?

‘Agreed,’ he said, damping down on his frustration. Whatever the problem was, it would be better to let her say it. He wasn’t going to risk scaring her off.

‘But I’ve never done this before.’

The bold statement, delivered with obvious bravado, made him feel even more clueless. He frowned, his frustration all but strangling him.

‘What exactly is this?’ he asked carefully. If she was about to tell him she was a virgin, he was going to be exceptionally annoyed with himself. How could his radar have been so spectacularly off?

‘This is a one-night stand. I usually date a guy for a while before I consider going to bed with him.’

Relief coursed through him. Relief and something else, which he decided not to examine. So she didn’t jump into bed with every guy who took her fancy. So what? Why should her sexual history matter to him? He’d always considered the double standard when it came to sex completely illogical. If a guy wanted a woman and acted on it, he certainly shouldn’t hold it against her if she did the same.

‘So what’s your point?’ he asked. And wished like hell she’d hurry up and get to it.

‘The point is …’ she began, her gaze darting away from his.

Finally.

‘I’m not the sort of woman who has spontaneous orgasms to order.’ She rushed the words as she met his gaze, her lips flattening into a firm line and her cheeks flushing a becoming shade of pink. ‘So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t rush things,’ she finished.

His lips twitched at the defiant tone.

She was actually serious. The guys she’d dated had to be idiots.

He tried to keep a good firm grip on the amusement tightening his chest. Honestly, he did.

Maybe it was the extreme sexual frustration that made him lose it, or more likely the sight of her full lips pouting adorably as she laid down the law about how she expected to be made love to. But whatever it was, he was powerless to stop the rumble of laughter rising up and bursting out of his mouth.

‘What’s so funny?’ she said, her voice ripe with exasperation.

He grasped her wrist, hauled her into his arms. ‘Why don’t I take it from here, Ruby?’ He continued to chuckle as she struggled against him.

‘You see, this is exactly the problem,’ she said, her eyes flashing, her indignation not abating one bit. ‘You don’t know me and yet you’re assuming …’

He silenced her with a kiss. Hunger quickly overwhelmed the hilarity, and she stopped wriggling. So he took his time. Hearing the sharp intake of breath as he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue. Revelling in her soft little moan as he nipped her plump bottom lip. He explored in slow, determined strokes. Breathing in her scent, he tasted the delicious mix of lemon and vanilla—a cocktail of flavours that were both sweet and intoxicating. His erection swelled painfully as she writhed in his arms, her fingers threading into his hair and her tongue duelling with his in a sensual dance that made him ache.

He cradled her face in his palms as he touched his forehead to hers, listened to her ragged breathing.

‘I’m not going to rush you,’ he murmured, the humour gone. ‘I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you the whole damn day. So believe me, I intend to savour every single second.’

His lips quirked as he lifted his head and took in her dilated pupils—and the little crease of consternation on her forehead.

‘I know what I’m doing,’ he added.