“Terrible in that we might ruin a friendship if we pursue these romantic urges.”
“Not if we’re honest about our feelings.” It sounded simple, yet he grew more needy by the day. “It’s my turn to play for a confession. Why come if you know I had an ulterior motive for inviting you?”
They placed their cards.
He won, his nine of hearts beating her seven.
“Confess, Eleanor.”
“Because I want to kiss you, but you’ll have to earn it. You need to give me a reason why I should.”
He relaxed back in the chair. He had solid reasons for every decision he’d ever made, until he kissed her at the Olympic. His mind had not been his own since.
“The truth is, you should avoid me. I cannot leave Aaron here alone.” The thought was more than he could bear. “I can offer companionship and stolen moments of pleasure. You deserve more than I could ever give.”
He expected to witness the chill of recognition in her eyes, to watch her physically withdraw. To feel the ache of loss. The opposite was true. She smiled as if he’d given her the greatest compliment.
“Don’t underestimate the attraction of stolen moments. No one can say what tomorrow will bring. One should live for today.”
“Are they not the words of a scoundrel?” he teased.
“We’re kindred spirits. Two people trying to escape the pain of the past. Life is precarious. We both know that.”
The words hit a nerve. But the body he pictured at the bottom of the stairs wasn’t his mother’s. Miss Darrow might not have woken from her stupor. Was that the reason for her devil-may-care attitude? Did it account for his urgent need to bed her, too?
“The next question is yours,” he said.
She reached for her wine and took a large gulp, shaking visibly from its potency. “It’s late. Shall we skip to dessert? I know you’re keen to prove your point.”
His pulse rose more than a notch. “Perhaps you’ll permit me to pay my forfeit and act your servant. Let me feed you, Eleanor.”
He moved to the console table to retrieve the plum pie, his cock already swelling in his trousers, lust drumming a potent beat in his blood.
Eleanor stood, taking the napkins and cutlery from him. “Where shall we eat? I wouldn’t want to get plum juice on the green baize.”
“Here. Stand still. Close your eyes.” The pie was cold, but it didn’t matter. He scooped a tiny amount of stewed plum onto a spoon. “Open your mouth, Eleanor.”
Clasping her hands in front of her body, she did as he asked.
The first touch of the spoon on her lips made her quiver. Her chest rose rapidly, but Theo kept his attention on her mouth.
“Lick the spoon, love.”
The rapid flick of her tongue was almost his undoing. She lapped every drop of sweetness and sighed.
“Given the chance, I’d devour you in much the same way. Are you not aroused, Eleanor?” Hell, he was so hard he was about to split the seam of his trousers.
“What’s next?” said his willing protege.
“Now you must take a whole plum and suck it gently.” He spooned one out and placed it between her lips. “Don’t let it fall. Don’t eat it yet. Don’t be greedy.” He watched the juice trickle down her chin. “Do you need your servant to mop up the mess?”
She nodded, peeking at him through narrowed lids.
He gripped her hips with both hands and sucked her chin clean. “That plum is too big to eat by yourself,” he whispered. “There’s more than enough for two. Are you good at sharing, Eleanor?”
She nodded, threading her arms around his neck.
He wanted to crush his mouth to hers, but first he needed to get rid of the damn plum. One bite, and he swallowed his half whole.
Eleanor did the same. She licked her lips. “What now?”
“Now I beg for a kiss from—”
Her mouth was on his, hot and insistent—a kiss like wildfire, untamed and unbridled. Heat infused him, turning his blood molten, every muscle as hard as stone. His heartbeat quickened.
God, he wanted her, here on the table.
Later, in bed. Tomorrow, in the carriage.
Anywhere the next day and the one after that.
But not before he’d plundered her senseless.
He cupped her face in his hands, sliding his tongue between her lips, smiling as she moaned into his mouth. She wanted him just as badly.
A point she proved when their tongues mated with an urgency that defied logic. The strokes were fast and deep. Arousal pumped so hard through his body he could scarcely stand still.
He didn’t want the kiss to end.
