Bad Boy with Benefits by Cynthia St. Aubin

Author:Cynthia St. Aubin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2022-08-02T13:43:06+00:00

Nine

Marlowe stared at the spread before her, her stomach gnawed hollow and her mouth watering as the mingled scents wafted up to her. It had the look of a meal you’d find on the unattended table of a witch or a giant in a fairy tale.

Tempting, and totally forbidden.

“You’re suggesting that I allow you to feed me...with your bare hands?” She’d thought repeating the proposition aloud would somehow magically transmute it into something resembling reasonable.

It hadn’t.

“That’s right.” Law reclined on one elbow as he popped a grape into his mouth, an almost comical replica of the reclining-satyr sculpture in the gardens at Fair Weather Hall that had made her blush as a girl.

“I’m actually not that hungry.” As if in revolt, her traitorous stomach rumbled audibly.

“Liar,” he accused.

“How about, I’m not hungry enough to eat from hands that have most recently been on horse tack?” she amended.

With a smirk twisting his lips, Law reached into the backpack, gathered the necessary materials, and proceeded to wash and dry his hands.

Witnessing this, Marlowe told herself it was the food, not the evidence of his forethought, causing the spreading warmth in her middle.

“Now,” he said, stripping off his shirt to sprawl beside her. “Close your eyes, and open your mouth.”

She gave him a pointed look designed to disguise the small mutiny his words had caused. “If I’m agreeing to eat from your hands, I at least need to be able to see what’s in them.”

The smooth tawny skin of his rounded bicep brushed her arm as he pushed himself up to an elbow. “What if I tell you?”

“If you’re going to tell me anyway, what’s the point of my eyes being closed?” Especially when his lightly bronzed, imperceptibly freckled, ludicrously perfect chest was available for visual delectation.

“Marlowe Kane,” he drawled, tracing a fingertip over the knobby outcropping of bone at her wrist. “One of these days you’re going to run out of questions, and then how will you keep yourself from new experiences?”

“I’m pretty sure eating isn’t a new experience,” she said. “Seeing as I’m almost thirty and, you know, alive?”

Law reached for the container of riotous red, long-stemmed strawberries, picked one up and lowered it partially into the glass of cabernet. With a garnet drop hanging from the berry, he lifted it to her face. Slowly, he painted her lips with it, letting the wine sink into the seam, then pulling back to brush them with a featherlight touch.

“There’s being alive...” His deep voice rumbled near her ear. “And there’s living. Not the same thing.”

Already, her breathing had begun to accelerate.

“Open your mouth.”

Marlowe relaxed her jaw, letting her mouth slacken.

“Good. Now close your eyes.”

She let them fall closed and was rewarded with the succulent berry stroked across her tongue.

“Bite.”

Her teeth sank into the juicy flesh. Whether it was the sensory deprivation or he’d simply acquired the fruit from a superior source that the upscale food store she shopped didn’t have access to, Marlowe had never tasted anything so sweet and ripe. Like summer itself, devoured in one, greedy mouthful.

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