His Until Midnight by Nikki Logan

Author:Nikki Logan [Logan, Nikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780263235852
Google: ERBsAAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00D4MVHLM
Barnesnoble: B00D4MVHLM
Goodreads: 17900226
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-12-31T18:30:00+00:00

TEN

Lavender-cured crocodile, watermelon fennel salad served with a lime emulsion

‘Again?’

Audrey’s beautiful, sweat-slicked chest rose and fell right in Oliver’s peripheral vision as she sprawled, wild and indelicate, across his bed, eyeing him lasciviously.

His laugh strangled deep in his throat. ‘I won’t be doing it again for a little bit, love.’

‘Really? You’re not a three-times-a-night kind of guy?’

He rolled over and stared at her. ‘Have you never heard of recovery? Any man who can go three times in a row didn’t do it thoroughly the first time.’

And she’d been done extremely thoroughly.

The second time, anyway.

Their first time had been hot, and hard and slick and they didn’t even make it off the sumptuous sofa. He’d been joking about being so keyed up, but it had taken a gargantuan effort on his part to keep things at a pace that wouldn’t scare her off forever.

Or shame him.

The second time they’d turned nomad; roaming from surface to surface, view to view, stretching out the torture, exploring and learning the geography of each other’s bodies, knocking vases off tables and sending light fittings swinging. He’d been determined to make a slightly better—and lengthier—showing than the almost adolescent fumblings on the sofa, and Audrey had risen to the challenge like the goddess she was, matching him move for move, touch for touch.

Until they’d finally collapsed in a heap on the penthouse’s luxurious master bed where he really got to show her how he’d earned his nickname.

He rolled his exhausted head towards her. ‘You were kidding, right?’

‘Hell, yes. I’m numb.’

There we go... That was what a man liked to hear. He flipped his arm with the last remnants of energy he had and patted her unceremoniously on her perfect, naked bottom.

‘Take that, Blake,’ she said, after the giggles had subsided.

Audrey giggling. Wasn’t that one of the heralds of the apocalypse?

‘Hell hath no fury...’ But it wasn’t about vengeance, he knew that. This was much more fundamental.

‘It wasn’t me,’ she whispered to the ceiling. And to every demon still haunting her.

He gave her a gentle shove with his own damp shoulder. ‘Told you.’

‘Yeah, you did.’

‘Do you believe me now?’

‘Yeah.’ She sighed. ‘I do.’

Then more silence.

Oliver studied the intricate plasterwork above them and mulled over words he’d never needed—or wanted—to utter. Found himself inexplicably nervous and utterly shamed of his own cowardice.

So...now what happens?

That was what he wanted to know. Half dreading and half breathless with anticipation at the answer. Because this—what they’d just shared—would be a crime to walk away from. He’d just had his deepest desire handed to him on a plate. Writhing under him.

Yet, he didn’t do long-term. He didn’t dare. Would he even know how? He’d lost years waiting for a woman with the right combination of qualities to come along. Goodness and curiosity and brilliance and elegance and wild, unbridled sensuality all bundled into one goddess.

He just wasn’t going to find a woman on the planet better suited to being his.

Which meant he could have this remarkable gift that the universe had provided, but he couldn’t keep it.

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