Текст книги "Double Time"

Автор книги: Olivia Cunning

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

“I figured as much.” Reagan leaned closer until her lips were a hairsbreadth from his. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to kiss a woman so bad. But for once in his life he wasn’t sure how to make the first move. Her signals were all mixed and driving him to distraction. He couldn’t figure out what he needed to do to get what he wanted from her. Probably because he wasn’t sure what he wanted from her. Maybe he didn’t want anything from her. Maybe he just wanted her. Period.

“Do you know what I do to naughty boys?” she asked.

“Tease them to their limits and then shoot them down,” Dare guessed and took a nonchalant sip of his beverage.

Reagan grinned. “Exactly.”

Well, fuck, if she was just going to shoot him down anyway, he might as well push the envelope.

“Do you know what I do to naughty girls?” he asked, locking her gaze with his.

“What?”

“I put in my tongue piercing.” He ran a fingertip down the center of his tongue.

“And?” She actually sounded bored. What the hell?

“I flick it over their clit until they scream.”

“What do they scream?”

“Oh, Trey. Fuck me. Please.”

She tilted her head and stared above his head in contemplation. “Not very original.”

Dare chuckled. “This is sweet,” he said. “Reagan, I think I love you.”

“Shut up, Dare,” Trey grumbled. He shot a look of disgust over his shoulder at his brother’s smug face.

Reagan’s wet hand caressed Trey’s cheek and he turned his head to look at her. “Do you know what I’d say?”

He knew he was walking into something, but he couldn’t seem to help it. “What?”

Her face went slack, eyes closed, mouth opened in that unmistakable look of feminine bliss. “Oh, Trey, I’m so empty right now. Don’t make me come without your thick cock pounding me hard. And deep. And fast. Oh yes, give it to me. Harder. Oh please, harder.”

Trey’s mouth went dry.

She opened her eyes and grinned devilishly. “Can you tell me where the bathroom is?”

He had no idea what a bathroom was at that moment. Did she really expect him to form a coherent response?

When Trey did nothing but gape at her, she glanced at Dare. “Bathroom?”

It took Dare a long moment to answer. “Uh, yeah. There’s one in the changing room.” He flung a wet hand in the general direction of the house.

“Thanks.” Reagan climbed out of the hot tub. Water coursed from her beautiful body and left wet footprints on the pavement in her wake. Trey watched the sweet globes of her ass flex beneath the clinging satin of her panties as she trotted toward the house. When she was out of sight, he relaxed against the edge of the hot tub and emitted a tormented groan.

“She is fucking luscious, isn’t she?” Dare said.

Trey sat up straight. “Are you going to pursue her?” He’d hate to have to compete against his brother for a woman, but Reagan kept tempting him to break his usual patterns.

“I would,” Dare said, “but A, she’s in my band and I won’t jeopardize my career for a woman, and B, I think she likes you.”

“I think she’s just fucking with me.”

Dare chuckled. “And I am totally getting off on that.”

“You would.”

“I’ve never seen a woman go head-to-head with you before. They either think you’re the biggest jackass on the planet or they are seduced before you offer them a second glance. She’s different. I think she’d be great for you.”

“You do?” Trey glanced back at the door Reagan had disappeared through, hoping she’d return quickly. He already missed the sight of her. And the sound of her husky voice. And the slight lift at the corner of her mouth when she was teasing him. And the feel of her hand on his thigh.

“She’ll keep you on your toes.” Dare’s teasing grin faded. “How did it go this morning?”

“How did what go?” Trey asked, head reeling from the sudden change in subject.

“Seeing Brian with his son.”

Trey’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh that. Well, I…” He covered the center of his chest with one hand. The emotional anguish of earlier returned—hot and raw as ever—like a branding iron burning a hole through his heart. When he’d been concentrating on Reagan, that pain had been completely absent. She was just the distraction he needed. “Brian belongs with Myrna. I’ve decided… It’s time for me… I’m moving on.”

Dare slid around the periphery of the hot tub and wrapped an arm around Trey’s shoulders. “You okay?” Dare said, his voice husky with emotion.

“I think so.”

Dare was the only person on the planet who knew how much Brian meant to him. The only person. In true big-brother fashion, he’d advised Trey to let Brian go for years, but when he couldn’t, Dare had been the caring ear Trey had needed whenever things got too painful to bear.

“Do you need to talk about it?” Dare asked, his hand moving to the side of Trey’s head to press his temple against his shoulder. Trey couldn’t ask for a more understanding big brother.

“I think it needs to sink in for a few days. It’s still kind of new.”

“You know where to find me if you need me. I’m always here for you. You know that.”

Trey smiled and patted the center of Dare’s bare chest with one hand. “Thanks, Dare.”

“Oh my God, you two are so fucking gorgeous,” Reagan said from the patio behind them. “My vibrator is going to get one hell of a workout tonight.”

Not if Trey could help it.

Chapter 5

Reagan considered whether she wanted the vision in her head to become a reality. Dare sitting on the edge of the hot tub, pulling her hair while she sucked his cock. Trey fucking her from behind in the hot, roiling water at the same time. When she’d come out of the house and seen the two of them close—touching, cuddling almost—her panties had nearly burst into flames. She needed to get a grip. As much as she wanted to suck Dare off, she knew it would be a bad idea. If they got involved sexually, it would complicate their professional relationship. The music had to come first, even though she wished she was the one coming first and second, before the pair of gorgeous brothers came all over her.

She stared at the matching tattoos on their shoulders—Dare’s on his right, Trey’s on his left. Red flying V guitars with the saying Flying V Forever beneath both. She opened her mouth to ask about them about it (because she’d never seen either of them touch a flying V guitar), but when her eyes met Trey’s and then Dare’s, the only thing she could think of was becoming the filling in a delicious Mills brothers sandwich.

“I should probably go,” she said, before her throbbing, achy pussy convinced her to do something she’d regret.

The butler-guy appeared beside her. Just in time. She grabbed the two drinks from his serving tray and downed them both in quick succession.

“Are you sure?” Dare said, releasing his hold on his little brother and staring up at her with those piercing green eyes.

She set the two empty glasses on the serving tray and nodded vigorously. “Yeah. I have a lot of things to get in order before we go on tour.” Total lie. She couldn’t tell him the truth though. Dare, I have to leave before I rape you and your brother in the hot tub. Not exactly admirable. But oh so true.

“Harold, could you call for the car?” Dare said. “Reagan needs a ride.”

Oh yeah. The car. She’d get to ride in a limo. That was almost as good as a threesome with two of the sexiest guitarists on the planet.

Okay, not even close, but it was still pretty cool.

“I need to head out too,” Trey said and stood from the water. Her eyes followed the happy trail of hair on his lower belly to his oh-so-gorgeous but now flaccid cock. It pulsed to life as she stared. Jeez, what was wrong with her? She loved sex as much as the next girl, but it wasn’t usually the only thing on her mind. She should probably stay as far away from Trey Mills as possible. “Do you mind if we share a limo?” he asked Reagan.

Reagan bent to retrieve her discarded tank top from the edge of the hot tub and pulled it on over her head. “Not at all,” she said nonchalantly. She tugged on the fabric so it wouldn’t cling to her hard nipples. Not making much progress with that really.

Trey nudged her when he sauntered past her. Making sure he had her attention, no doubt. He collected at towel from the edge of the hot tub and began to rub it over his skin. Now was that really necessary? He turned and she caught a glimpse of his perfect ass. Well, perfect except for the ridiculous tattoo that decorated one cheek. A unicorn, rainbow, and calico kitten had no business on the man’s ass. It was a travesty.

At her startled inrush of breath, Dare burst out laughing. “You really need to have that thing removed, bro,” Dare said.

Trey followed their line of sight to his ass. He blew out his cheeks and released a slow breath. “Lost a bet,” he said to Reagan.

She laughed. “I have one of those.” She slid the band of her panties down to show the single word tattooed on her right hip. It said LUNCH beside an arrow that pointed toward her mound.

Trey produced a sound that made Reagan fear he needed the Heimlich.

“What is it?” Dare asked, straining his neck to try to see around Trey.

“Nothing,” he said and wrapped his towel around her waist. He reached for his clothes and got dressed, while she dried off her legs with his towel.

She shook her head and laughed. “My bandmates have a sick sense of humor.”

“I know the feeling,” Trey said.

“My ex-bandmates,” Reagan clarified. She peeked around Trey’s body to grin at Dare. “You guys wouldn’t make me get LUNCH tattooed on my hip, would you?” She winked at him and showed him her tattoo.

The shocked expression on Dare’s face deserved to be captured on film and hung in a gallery. “That’s pretty fucked up,” he said.

“Oh, I get it now,” Trey said and laughed. “The arrow is pointing to your box. Lunch box.”

“A little slow on the uptake today,” Dare said. “Too little blood in your brain, bro?”

“Shut up. What kind of ass would make a woman get that tattooed on her hip?”

“Same kind of ass that would make you and Brian get matching girlie tattoos on your asses,” Dare said.

“I got off easy,” Reagan said. “Our bassist lost the same bet. He has a tat on his ass that says Emergency Entrance with an arrow that points to his… I’m sure you can guess.”

“I refuse to ever introduce you to Eric,” Trey said. “If he hears that, I know what tattoo I’ll be forced to get the next time I lose a bet.”

Dare massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’m so glad my bandmates aren’t douche bags.”

“Me too,” Reagan said. “Should I come back tomorrow? I should probably practice for the tour on decent equipment. My guitar is a piece.”

“Yeah, you should do that. Do you need me to send the car for you?”

Hmm, let me see… Ride in the limo back to Dare Mills’ fabulous mansion or take the city bus and hoof it from the nearest stop? Hard decision.

“That would be appreciated. I don’t have a car.”

“Just tell the driver what time he should pick you up in the morning.”

“Will do. Thanks again for giving me the chance to even audition.” Oh no, the gushy fangirlness was returning. “I can’t believe I’m going on tour with Exodus End. This is so freaking amazing!”

“We’re lucky to have you,” Dare said, obviously just being a nice guy. Reagan was the lucky one.

“Thanks,” she managed to say. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Later, Dare,” Trey said.

Trey waited for her outside the dressing room. She removed her wet panties and tucked them in her pocket before slipping into her cargo pants and combat boots. Trey led her back through the maze that was his brother’s house and out the front door to the portico over the driveway. A sleek, midnight-blue limousine sat waiting for them. Reagan squeaked excitedly and gave Trey a crushing hug before diving through the open door into the backseat. The white leather seats were arranged in a u-shape around a console in the middle of the floor. Fluorescent blue tube lights circled the perimeter of the ceiling giving everything a sultry blue glow. Before Trey even settled into the seat beside her, she was already fiddling with the console in front of her shins.

“Is this a wet bar?” she asked.

Trey reached for a remote control and started pushing buttons. Music blared from the speakers.

“Oh, I love this song!”

He pressed another button and the center of the console slowly rose to eye-level. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I’m drunk on life. And two inhaled sex on the beach cocktails, but you can have something, if you’d like.”

“I’m hungry for lunch, actually,” he said.

Her face flamed. She never should have shown him that tattoo. “I like you and all, Trey, but I’m not ready to spread my legs and offer you lunch.” Okay, that was a total lie, but he didn’t need to know that. She had to play a little hard to get. Very little.

“I meant food. I haven’t eaten all day.”

Her face fell. “Oh.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, sure. Can we stop by my work first? I need to quit my job.”

He lifted a phone receiver and handed it to her.

“I don’t want to call them. I want to do it in person. From a limo. I might even moon them.”

“Where to?” a deep voice came from the phone receiver.

“That’s the driver,” Trey informed her with a grin.

“Oh. Right. I’ve never been in a limo before.” She hugged Trey again before lifting the phone to her ear. “Hi, can you fit this long thing through a coffee shop’s drive-thru?”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, madam.”

She giggled and covered the receiver with her hand. “He called me madam,” she told Trey.

He grinned at her crookedly, his head tilted just so, and she melted.

“I will need the address,” the driver said in her ear, drawing her out of happy-Trey-land.

“Right.” She gave the driver the address and hung the phone back in its cradle. “Lunch is on me,” she said. “Where are we going?”

“How about Spago Beverly Hills?”

Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t afford that place. She hadn’t gotten her huge signing bonus from Exodus End yet. “Lunch is on you.”

“I would very much like lunch to be on me.” He lifted an eyebrow at her, his gaze flicking toward her crotch and then back to her eyes.

She swatted his shoulder. “You’re so naughty.”

“Usually works pretty well for me. Not so much with you.”

He was so wrong. She was utterly seduced. She had no idea why she wasn’t making out with him right now.

In a limo.

That belonged to Exodus End.

Her band.

She covered her mouth with one hand to hide her cheese-eating grin. She didn’t resist the urge to hug Trey again. He was entirely huggable. Entirely lickable. Entirely fuckable. They’d get to that eventually. She was too distracted to give him the undivided attention he deserved.

“What do you want to do after lunch?” he asked.

Was she seriously going to lunch at Spago with Trey Mills? When had her life become a dream? Oh yeah, about three hours ago. “Don’t you have important rock star stuff to do?” She tilted her head and shook it at him. He grinned. Again, she melted.

“I’ll have to head back to the Midwest tomorrow for the next Sinners show, but I’m free tonight.”

If she spent the entire day with him, she’d be flat on her back with his tight body above her by dusk. She felt the flush of desire creep up her throat. “I’m in,” she said without hesitation.

The phone in the console rang. Trey picked it up and listened to the driver speak on the other end. “Did you want to order any coffee?” he asked Reagan.

She shook her head. “The coffee here sucks. Guys come for the scenery. Just pull through and stop at the window.”

She took the remote and started pushing random buttons. A TV came out of the ceiling. The song switched to something very hard and heavy. The window that separated them from the driver slid down. At last, the moonroof in the ceiling opened. She climbed up on the console and popped up through the moonroof. The driver eased the limo forward until she was even with the drive-thru window. She waved her arms but no one noticed her. “Tell him to honk,” she called down to Trey.

The horn blared the intro to the Exodus End song “Bite.” Stacy, the college student Reagan usually worked with, turned at the sound of the horn. Her dark eyes widened and she yanked the drive-thru window open.

“Reagan! What in the world?” She gaped at the limo and then pointed at Reagan. “Hank is pissed that you didn’t show up for work. He says he’s going to fire you.”

“Tell ol’ Hank to come here,” Reagan said.

“Why are you in a limo? Did you win the lottery?” Several of the other baristas were at the window trying to see through the tiny opening. Every last one of them was wearing a teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini.

“Better,” Reagan assured her.

“What could possibly be better than winning the lottery?” Stacy asked.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Reagan said, sure her face was about to crack from the huge smile she couldn’t seem to curtail.

A hand pressed against her lower back and Trey peeked out the moonroof beside her.

There was an ear-splitting scream from within the coffee shop. “That’s Trey Mills!”

“Hiya,” he said and stuck his arm out of the limo’s roof to wave.

“Oh my God, Reagan, are you dating Trey Mills?” Leah squeaked, shoving the other bikini-clad baristas away from the window as she attempted to climb out of the tiny opening. Not going to happen. “That is better than winning the lottery!”

“She keeps turning me down,” Trey said.

Reagan slapped at him. “He lies.”

“Reagan, will you be my girlfriend?” he asked.

She looked down at him, knowing he was teasing her. Knowing he expected her to say no. His grass-green eyes were full of mischief. “Yeah, sure, Trey. Why not? Consider yourself saddled with a steady girlfriend.”

Trey’s eyes widened and he sort of melted down through the open moonroof and disappeared from sight. She laughed, wondering what he would say to get himself out of that arrangement.

“What are you doing? Causing another spectacle?” Hank yelled through the window. “This is the last straw, Reagan Elliot. I cut you some slack when you hosed down a customer with club soda.”

“He was being a dick,” Reagan said. The four women behind Hank nodded in agreement.

“I turned a blind eye when you wore combat boots with your bikini instead of the required heels.”

“Hey, I said if you made it through an eight-hour day in those foot-killers I’d be willing to wear them.” She shrugged.

The sound of Trey laughing rose up through the open moonroof.

“And now you’re blocking the drive-thru with your obnoxious limo,” Hank said.

“There’s no such thing as an obnoxious limo. I just stopped by to quit. I don’t need this fucked-up job anymore.”

“Just like that?” Hank bellowed out the window. “No notice or anything?”

“Yeah, just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Later.” She pursed her lips and crinkled her brow as if concentrating. “Actually, I won’t see you later, Hank. Split my last paycheck between all my honeys. Bye, girls! I’ll miss you!” She waved at her ex-coworkers. They waved back excitedly.

She dropped back down into the limo and grinned at Trey. “That was awesome,” she said.

“I thought you were going to moon them.”

“They do call it a moonroof for a reason, but I’m not wearing any panties, so I think I’ll skip that part today.”

“Did you really wear combat boots with a bikini?”

“Is that a problem?”

He shook his head. “I’d just like to see it is all.”

“I don’t wear a bikini to work anymore.” She grinned again. Couldn’t help it. “I wear a guitar now.”

“And nothing else?”

“It wouldn’t bother me. Would it bother you?”

“I’d definitely be bothered. Hot and bothered.”

The phone in the center of the console rang. Trey answered. “One moment. Let me see if I can get reservations at Spago.”

Trey dug his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. Reagan was not dressed to rub elbows with the rich and famous. It didn’t sound all that fun to her, really. Trey slid his finger down the screen of his phone looking for the right number.

“You’ll never get reservations on such short notice,” Reagan said.

He glanced up at her and blushed. She noticed for the first time that he had a light spattering of freckles on his nose. She wanted to kiss them all.

“I… uh… have connections with someone there. They always get me in.”

She took his phone to make sure she had his undivided attention. “I’m impressed. Really,” she said, “but honestly, I’d rather get a burger and a beer and eat while cruising around in the back of a limo. With you. Just you.” She looked up at him. “But if you’d rather I behave properly in public—”

He snatched the phone out of her hand and tossed it into the seat on the opposite side of the limo. The driver’s phone hit the console, and Reagan found herself buried under one hot and eager man. Heavy on the hot.

Dear Lord, the man could kiss. Trey’s lips were soft yet strong against hers. He applied just the right amount of pressure and suction—rubbing with lips, caressing with tongue—to drive her mad with desire. He nipped her lower lip and then drew it into his mouth to suck it gently and soothe it with the tip of his tongue. She knew she was clinging to his back, rubbing her heat against his thigh and panting with excitement, but the incurable tease in her had gone on vacation and for a long moment she let Trey drive her to distraction without even considering pushing him away.

“Sir,” a tinny voice said from somewhere in the middle of the car. “Sir! We’re blocking the drive-thru.”

Reagan slapped around at the console, trying to find the phone receiver. When she finally wrapped her hand around it, she turned her head to break Trey’s kiss. He stared down at her, his heavy-lidded eyes partially closed, and a pulse of hot lust surged through her pussy. He seemed to be waiting for her to give him the proper cue, but all she could do was stare up at him and imagine the feel of his cock filling that hot, achy emptiness between her thighs.

“Sir, are you there?” the driver said exasperatedly. “Damned rock stars,” he muttered.

Reagan lifted the receiver to her ear. “The damned rock stars would like to drive around for a while. Head north along the coast. Just keep driving. We’ll let you know when to stop.”

“Yes, madam,” the driver said sheepishly.

She tried to hang up the phone, but she couldn’t reach. Trey took the receiver and set it in its cradle. When he shifted, his cock pressed against her mound. Had he been unexcited, or even half-hard, she might have stood a chance, but he was hard as stone. She shuddered and, heaven help her, moaned. His breath caught, and his gaze shifted to her face. The sultry look he gave her set her ablaze. Trey buried both hands in her hair, tilting her head back slightly as he stared down into her eyes.

“I want to kiss every inch of you,” he murmured and ground his cock against her mound. “Then I want to lick every inch. And touch. Then suck. Then fuck.” He gave her hair a hard tug. “Every inch.”

She wanted to shout, Yes, Trey, kiss me lick me touch me suck me fuck me, all of me, all of me! but it came out as an incoherent gasp.

“I will find all your spots. Pleasure you until you beg me to possess you. When I finally do, I’ll plunge into you hard. Deep.”

She could practically feel him inside her. “Fast,” she gasped. “Hard and fast.”

“Slow,” he murmured and lowered his head to kiss her jaw. His lips scorched a trail down her throat. When he reached her collarbone, he paused. “So slow.” He rubbed against her again and she spread her thighs so he slipped lower. Their clothes prevented him from surging into her body, but she felt him there, gyrating against her opening in slow, sensual arcs. “I want to make you come hard, so hard, but only after I spend hours worshipping your body.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she said.

The light stubble on his chin was rough against her nipple as he used it to push the neckline of her tank top down. His tongue slid against the erect bud and her stomach clenched with need.

“Jealous?” he whispered, his breath teasing her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and rubbed it with circular motions of his tongue.

“A little,” she admitted. “Now that I’m your steady girlfriend, I expect you to pleasure only me.”

He tensed. She waited for him to deny her as his girlfriend so she could find the sense to tell him to get off her, not to get her off. It wasn’t as if she’d never had a one-night stand before, but she always regretted them in the morning. She didn’t want to regret anything with this man. She kind of liked him. Getting tangled up with him sexually too quickly would ruin that. There’d be the awkwardness and the niceties and then he’d never call her again. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew how players operated.

“Yeah,” he said, “only you, Reagan.”

Well, that just pissed her off. Lying to her to get her to submit? Wrong.

She shoved him onto the floor of the limo and sat up, concealing her reddened, very excited, and suddenly lonely nipple under her top again.

“What?” Trey said, sitting on the floor at her feet, looking all tousled and aroused and completely flabbergasted. Damn him for being so irresistible. And knowing it.

“I do have feelings,” she said. “And I’m not stupid, so don’t think your lies are going to work on me.”

“What lies?” The man was a fine actor. He honestly looked like he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Only you, Reagan,” she said, mimicking that sultry, bedroom voice of his.

“What lies?” he repeated. “I meant that. I want that. With you. Only you.”

“You want what with me, Trey? Sex?”

“A committed, steady relationship. I want to try it for the first time in my life. With you, Reagan. Don’t take it lightly. If you think the idea doesn’t scare the piss out of me, you’re wrong. But, I think…” He shifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Never mind. Forget it.”

“You’ve never been in love?”

“I didn’t say I’ve never been in love. I said I’ve never been in a steady, committed relationship.”

Reagan scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “So you cheated on the woman you loved?” Ethan had cheated. She couldn’t be with a man who cheated again. It hurt too much.

“No, it was one-sided. Bri—the person I was in love with didn’t love me back. I kept hoping that would change given enough time, but… I want to move on. I didn’t think I’d ever feel that way—didn’t think I’d ever give up—but today has been one kick to my system after another and here you are all perfect for me. I don’t think I should ignore that.”

She snorted. “You think I’m perfect?”

“No, I think you’re pretty fucked up, Reagan. Perfectly fucked up.”

She tightened her arms, which still crossed her chest, and rubbed her upper arms. “You’re fucked up too.”

“Exactly.”

She watched him for a moment, looking for the smooth operator who separated women from their panties with such ease, but Trey seemed completely sincere. She’d be able to tell if he was just saying what he thought she wanted to hear to get into her pants, right? She supposed there was an easy way to tell.

“Okay, we’ll try this serious relationship thing on one condition.”

“I have a pressing condition in my pants.”

She shook her head at him, needing him to be serious. “I don’t quite trust you yet. I still think you just want to fuck me and then dump me. Which, okay, fine if that’s the truth then I can handle that, but don’t make me love you and then break my heart.”

“Why would I open my heart to you if that was the case?”

“I’m not sure if you’re opening your heart or just making up some bullshit story to get laid.”

“I’m not. Honestly, Reagan, I have no problem getting laid. If that’s all I wanted, I can find it anywhere.” He stared up at her for a long moment and, when she didn’t back down, he released an exasperated sigh. “What’s your condition?”

“That we spend the entire day together on a completely platonic level.”

“That’s a sucky condition.”

“No sucking either.”

He laughed. “Okay, fine. Platonic. I can do that. That’s where we hold our breath, try not to come for a really long time, meditate and stuff, right?”

She laughed. “No, baby, that’s tantric.”

“I was hoping that was what you meant,” he said, a devilish grin on his handsome face. “But if you did actually mean platonic, I think I can manage it for one day.”

“And you have to pass the Ethan test.” No one ever passed the Ethan test. Her heart would be perfectly safe from Trey Mills’s clutches.

“That’s two conditions. You get one or the other.”

Only fair, she supposed. He’d never make it through a platonic day anyway. “Fine. You just have to make it through the day without a single come-on, caress, or stolen kiss. And no flirting.”

“Agreed.” He extended a platonic hand. “Shake on it.”

She took his hand and shook it, surprised when he didn’t try to prolong the clasping of their hands. “It’s a deal then. One platonic day together.”

He released a relieved breath. “Thank God the sun goes down in six hours. You said nothing about a platonic night.”

Why did the man have to be so feckin’ perceptive?