Mr One-Night Stand Page 15

  Kate lunged for her and she squealed, making a break for it and doing her utmost not to spill her coffee in the process. ‘Put that rag anywhere near me and the Cooper goes today.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah—whatever you say.’

  ‘I mean it.’

  ‘Whatever,’ her sister said, flouncing off to the sink and leaving Jennifer to head for her shower unscathed, her plan to put some much-needed distance between her and Marcus occupying her mind.

  The question was, would he agree to it?

  And would it be enough?

  * * *

  It turned out that the longest week had nothing on the weekend. Two days without her and Marcus had the oddest feeling of what it was like to actually miss someone.

  He owed her. He’d spent two days playing the perfect grandson, making up for lost time, being ribbed by his grandmother and led astray by his grandfather down at the local pub. It had felt good. Really good. And some strange cloud had lifted over his past.

  Still, none of it truly explained why he was currently standing outside King’s Cross Station waiting for her train to come in. Not when he should be sitting at his desk getting some much-needed work done.

  When Anna had told him Jennifer’s train had been delayed, that she’d been stuck stationary for over an hour and was going out of her mind, he’d offered to collect her out of the goodness of his heart.

  Whatever.

  Yes, there’d been an element of that, but the truth came down to a multitude of reasons—some he barely understood. He wanted to thank her, he wanted to see her—badly—and he wanted her answer. He craved that above all else.

  He prayed he’d imagined the weird mood she’d left in, but when Anna had told him she didn’t want to be collected it had stirred up his worry and made him all the more determined to go.

  And he’d not come empty-handed. She’d grumbled to Anna about the coffee on board and he’d already learnt how much she liked her caffeine fix. Cue him, two coffees in hand, his eyes skimming the crowd for her unmistakable red mane in the flurry of people.

  He spotted her as soon as she emerged, her hair once more pinned up, her face distracted as she towered above the majority of those around her. And then she spotted him, her eyes narrowing, her face becoming set.

  Ah, hell, she looked pissed off.

  She wove through the masses towards him, her beige trench coat tied snugly to her waist, her jaw-dropping walk unhindered by the trolley suitcase she towed or the hefty handbag hooked over her shoulder.

  ‘I told Anna to tell you not to come,’ she said, as soon as she was within earshot.

  He grinned. He couldn’t help it. The fighter in her just got him every time. ‘And I told Anna that it made sense for me to collect you—and you can’t tell me you’re not happy to see this.’

  He held out the coffee and his keen eye detected the minute semblance of a smile as she took it from him. ‘On that you’re right.’

  She sounded weary, and now she was close he could see the shadows under her eyes, the stress lines he hadn’t noticed before creasing her brow.

  His grin became a frown. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m good,’ she said, taking another sip. ‘Or I will be when this caffeine takes effect.’

  He didn’t believe her. But standing outside a busy station trying to get to the bottom of it wasn’t going to work.

  ‘Here—let me take that.’

  He moved to take her suitcase but she twisted to block him. ‘I can manage just fine.’

  ‘Ah, yes—sorry, I forgot.’ He backed away, palms raised. ‘Modern world and all that.’

  She gave an unexpected laugh, the melodic sound warming him through—it felt good that he could still coax a laugh from her when she was clearly suffering in some way.

  ‘Colin’s not far away,’ he said. ‘Shall we go?’

  ‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather take a short walk first,’ she said, her lids lowering as she faced the wind, one hand smoothing over her hair. ‘After being stuck on that train I’d like to get some fresh air and stretch my legs.’

  ‘Of course. We’ll drop your bags with Colin on the way.’

  ‘You don’t need to come wi—’

  He silenced her with a look. ‘I could do with a walk too.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ she said, and her resigned expression worried him all the more.

  ‘He’s just over here.’

  He looked away and started moving, trying to ignore the anxiety creeping its way in.

  Colin straightened as they approached, a smile Marcus hadn’t seen from him before breaking across his face.

  ‘Good to see you, Miss Hayes, shall I take that?’

  He reached out and she gave him a warm smile, passing him her bag. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘We’re just going to take a walk,’ Marcus said as Colin placed her bag in the boot. ‘If you park up locally I’ll call when we’re done.’

  ‘Very well, sir.’

  He turned to offer her his arm, just as he’d done that first night, but her eyes darted away. It was a damn stupid move, really—they weren’t on a date...they weren’t even together. He morphed it into a gesture for her to precede him, and together they wove through the pedestrians, neither saying anything for a while.

  ‘It’s actually good that you’ve come,’ she said eventually, giving him a sidelong glance.

  ‘You’ve changed your tune,’ he remarked, pulling his gaze up.

  ‘It means we can discuss your proposition.’

  It wasn’t what he’d expected, but it worked for him. ‘Sounds good to me.’

  ‘Don’t get too excited,’ she said. ‘It’s a no.’

  ‘A no?’ He nodded thoughtfully, doing his best not to acknowledge the weird sensation pulling at his gut. ‘Might I ask why?’

  She looked at him, for longer this time, and then she was off once more, picking up her pace. ‘It’s not easy to explain.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said, walking after her. ‘Can you at least try?’

  Again her eyes flicked back to his, but this time he could see wariness—fear, even—and she made no effort to elaborate.

  ‘I’m going to get a complex if you keep this up.’

  ‘You with a complex?’ She rolled her eyes at him but her humour didn’t reach her voice. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘Okay, it’s true that I know from the way you climax when you’re with me that it’s not because you hate the sex.’

  She let go of a breath, her eyes flickering, that knowing hint of colour hitting her cheeks. He’d done it on purpose—throwing her back into another time, another place.

  ‘No, it’s not that.’

  Her husky intonation rippled through to his groin.

  ‘Then you really are confusing me, because all I’m asking for is more of the same.’

  She nodded. ‘You’re honest—I’ll say that.’

  ‘That’s something you can always be certain of. Now, if you’ll only do the same and put me out of my misery...’

  ‘I don’t have time for this between us.’

  ‘What—sex? We’ve made a fair amount of time for it to date. Granted, not enough, but we can work on that.’

  ‘No, not for sex.’

  ‘Then I’m officially lost.’

  She halted to look at him properly now, an unidentifiable emotion flaring in her eyes. ‘It’s everything else,’ she said. ‘We’re meant to be business partners, doing what’s best for the business. Not ourselves. But you dominate my every thought, whether we’re together or not, and I can’t give work the best of me when I’m so wrapped up in you. I can’t sit in a business meeting, my entire focus on the job, when you are sitting right there with me, tempting my brain away.’

  ‘Hey, it’s been the same for me,’ he said. ‘It’s precisely what I was
saying in the car. Denying this between us only makes us distracted. I see us humouring this attraction as a way of keeping a lid on it, getting our heads back in the game...’

  She studied him, and the pulse working in her throat, her clenched hold around her cup spoke volumes. ‘This isn’t some game.’

  ‘Okay, sorry—I don’t mean it flippantly,’ he back-pedalled. ‘I just mean that it’ll help us to concentrate, to focus again.’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When you’ve had your fill? What happens then?’

  He shrugged, confusion reigning. ‘We’ll deal with that when we get to it.’

  She shook her head at him, a strange smile quirking her lips. ‘If only life was as simple as you make it out to be.’

  ‘It can be that simple.’

  ‘Not for me,’ she said, pressing on once more without giving him a backward glance. ‘It’s too risky—you’re too risky—and I have enough to worry about with my sister leaving for university soon and my mother’s health declining.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  She ignored the way his concern warmed her, the way it urged her to look at him. She knew it would break her resolve and she spun on her heel, eyes averted. ‘Look, let’s get back to the office—we’ve lost enough of the day as it is.’

  ‘But we haven’t finished our talk.’

  ‘Yes, we have,’ she said, starting to retrace their steps without waiting for him. ‘I don’t have time for a relationship.’

  He fell into step beside her. ‘And I’m not asking for a relationship.’

  ‘No, sorry—I forgot.’ She shot him a look. ‘You’re just asking for some mutual fun.’

  The way she said it messed with his head, and something inside him turned desperate. Was she looking for more? Was that where he’d gone wrong?

  But what did it matter if she was? It sure as hell wasn’t what he wanted, was it?

  She was still charging ahead, and the sudden need to have her undivided attention had him tossing his coffee into a nearby bin and cutting off her stride. He pulled her into a deserted side-street and spun her to face him.

  ‘Tell me this isn’t fun for you,’ he said. ‘Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll drop this.’

  ‘Marcus.’ The way she said it—breathless, almost fearful—made his body ache.

  She looked up at him, her green eyes wide, and he stepped forward, forcing her back.

  ‘Tell me this isn’t explosive.’

  She shook her head, pressing her free hand feebly against him. ‘Marcus.’

  ‘Tell me it doesn’t make your heart beat uncontrollably, your blood ring in your ears and your sanity leave you.’

  He continued walking her backwards as he raised his hand to cup her chin. ‘Tell me it doesn’t take it all away—the stress, the pain, the worry.’

  He could feel her wavering, feel her trembling beneath his touch. ‘Please let me be your escape.’

  It was what he wanted—so much it scared him—and he dropped his head, pulling at her lower lip with his teeth, taking it back to the sexual, back to the comfortable.

  ‘Let me drive you wild...let me make you wet.’

  She gasped, her back hitting the shielded recess of a fire escape. ‘Marcus, we’re outside. There are people.’

  ‘No one can see us here,’ he whispered against her parted lips, getting off on knowing the busy bustle of the street was within earshot and feeling her imminent surrender. ‘And I can’t wait any longer. I need to know—are you wet for me?’

  She shook her head, clamping her eyes shut.

  ‘Liar.’

  ‘Please,’ she whispered, her eyes lifting to his, and he paused.

  She wanted him—he could see it burning in her gaze, in the hand that grasped his chest, pulling him closer. Damn it, she probably didn’t even know she was doing it.

  ‘Tell me, you don’t want me right now and I will stop.’

  His cock pressed painfully against his fly, against her, but he would back away—it would kill him, but he’d do it.

  ‘I... I—’

  She broke off, shaking her head as though she couldn’t believe her own mind, her tongue brushing nervously across her lower lip. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Can’t?’ he pressed, hope surging.

  ‘I want you.’

  It was hushed, it was uncertain, but it was there. A groan ripped through his restraint, and his lips crushed hers with every possessive ounce of his being.

  Coffee and lip gloss invaded his tastebuds, its effect like a drug. Her mouth relented to the force of his, her blissful whimper singing through him as heat coursed through his blood.

  He heard the sound of her cup hitting the ground, felt heat against his leg as the liquid seeped into his trousers but he didn’t care.

  ‘Marcus...’ she moaned, raking a hand through his hair as her other hand clawed at him through his jacket.

  ‘This kind of fun is worth fighting for,’ he rasped.

  Their mouths collided, their kiss spiralling out of control, their tongues exploring one another with invasive delight; twisting, probing, desperate for more. His cock was practically bursting on that alone, and then she buried her head in his neck.

  ‘I’m losing it.’

  ‘Not yet, you’re not.’

  His hands dropped to her waist and he yanked the tie of her trench coat undone. He reached for her thighs, coaxing her skirt up, desperate to seek her out.

  He slipped a hand between her legs, felt the wet fabric of her knickers greeting him. ‘Fuck, Jennifer.’

  She clung to his shoulders, her body arching to grant him access, and he slid inside. She was so warm, so inviting, and he buried his fingers in her, pulling back to slide them over her clit. She bucked against him, her teeth biting into his skin as she suppressed a cry, their public location clearly not lost on her.

  He circled over her, gently at first, loving the way she undulated against his touch, and then faster, harder, in time with her breathing. Her tension mounted—he could feel it in every rigid line of her body as he pressed against her. And as she rocked against him forcefully, her climax claiming her, he covered her mouth with his own, drowning out her cry, swallowing it as her entire body shattered against him.

  It was swift, it was brief, it was soul-crushing. And the shift in the atmosphere from mind-obliterating lust to heavy regret was sudden and disorientating.

  Quietly she buried her head in his shoulder, normalising her breathing, and he extracted his hand, careful not to leave a trace on the fabric of her suit.

  He planted his hands either side of her as she straightened, her eyes downcast, her fingers trembling as she smoothed her clothing back into place and re-tied her coat.

  He wanted to say something—anything. He just didn’t know what.

  ‘We shouldn’t have done that,’ she said quietly.

  Her words from the car played back to him. ‘Not this again.’

  She sent him a look and his frustration died, guilt crushing him. ‘I’m sorry. I just needed you to remember what it’s like—what it could still be like.’

  She held his eyes, her expression one of such misery it pulled him apart. ‘Please, Marcus, if you care for me in any way, promise me this will stop.’

  He took hold of her upper arms, his thumbs stroking her coat, his caress aimed to soothe and reassure. ‘I’m not asking for a relationship.’

  ‘Don’t you get it?’ she blurted, her eyes glistening. ‘I can’t keep having sex with you without wanting one.’

  The tightness twisted him up inside. She wants more.

  ‘I can see you understand,’ she said, her eyes skimming his face, turning hard. ‘So promise me?’

  He released her, raking an unsteady hand through his hair as
he struggled to take it in.

  ‘Promise?’ she pressed.

  ‘Okay, okay—I promise.’ He was barely aware of the words coming out of his mouth, so lost was he in her revelation.

  ‘Good.’

  She stepped out of his hold, and through the haze he could see her composure falling into place.

  ‘I think some space will do us good,’ she said, looking over to where the alley met the main street. ‘With Mum’s health on the decline, I’m going to be needed at home more.’

  He frowned at her. ‘In Yorkshire?’

  ‘Yes.’ She nodded calmly, without looking back. ‘I need to take the pressure off my sister and make sure she gets her education.’

  Slowly he nodded, but the twisted feeling in his gut was getting worse. He’d called it fun, just sex, so why did her refusal disturb him so much? Was it because she wanted more? Or because she was intending to be away more?

  Christ, he had no clue.

  ‘How often do you need to go back?’ he asked tonelessly.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  She shrugged, and her poise was starting to grate against the loss of his own.

  ‘Fifty-fifty split, I think.’

  He nodded, the impact of her words sinking in. ‘Of course you must go if they need you.’

  He suddenly felt like an utter shit. Here he was, pursuing her, when she clearly had bigger things to worry about.

  He should be grateful he was avoiding that future complication too.

  So why did it feel as if his worst nightmare was coming true?

  He thrust a shaky hand through his hair. The rollercoaster inside his head was scaring him.

  ‘Let’s go.’ He forced himself to move forward, to head for the high street, and she stepped into line beside him. ‘We can discuss a strategy to make the split work on the return journey.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He sent her a sidelong glance, looking for the emotion he’d witnessed not five minutes before. But there was nothing.

  He had to admire her for that.

  And it was time he did the same. He’d do what he should’ve done ages ago and sort out a date elsewhere, hope the distraction would help him live up to his promise and leave her the hell alone.