Page 48 of Betrayal

“I was thinking something more personal.”She cupped his cock with her hips.

“While we’re together, there’s no one but me,” he said.

“That’s a given, and I’m sorry you felt you needed to state it,” she replied.

“I’m not an innocent.I could hurt you.”

“We could hurt each other.”Anna offered her sexy-intimate smile.

“I don’t want to.”

Maybe he’d specified monogamy as a condition of their relationship to protect them both?

“That’s the right place to start,” Anna said.“And I’m betting you’ve seen enough of sex as a weapon to choose a different path yourself.”

She was sorry that after all their truth-telling and inching closer, he’d be unsure of her, himself, or both of them enough to have to state his position.She was running on instinct.Instinct telling her that he needed to be held tonight.Despite the risk to her heart.

Another secret she’d keep.

In the second before she flipped the light switch in her apartment, she did a quick assessment of body, mind and spirit.She knew what she was doing.She had no doubt they’d both enjoy the encounter, and Anna was prepared to take the risk.

“Make yourself at home,” she said.

“Show me.”He linked his fingers with hers, his hand warm.

“Bedrooms are off this hall.So’s the bathroom.I’ll show you the living room.It’s why I bought the apartment.”When they reached the bottom of the hall, she pointed, her pulse racing.“Ta-da.”The large picture window revealed the distant arches of Sydney Harbour Bridge with street lights highlighting its elegant curves.

“Nice view.Do you live alone?I’ve never asked.”

“Kate’s been a flatmate from time to time.I’ve been alone since she married.”

“Can I help you with your coat?”he asked, his lips curving into a smile.“You won’t need it.”

“This isn’t going to be a furtive coupling in the dark.”

Mimicking her, he shucked his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair, before tucking his tie in his jacket pocket.“Candles or fluorescent tubes?”

“Bright LEDs,” she insisted.

“I want to see you, Anna.Every gorgeous inch of you.Thinking of you keeps me awake at night,” he growled, flipping open the top buttons of his shirt.

Her eyes were drawn to his fingers, to the slumberous slowness of his movements.His journey down his chest was unhurried, a measured slipping of each button, a leisurely reveal of bare skin.The light dusting of hair on his upper chest matched his dark locks.Relaxed, intent, invitation in his un-rushing.

“I’ve imagined you in my bed.”She was close enough to detect the base notes of his fragrance, finding courage in his sage smokiness.

“We’ll get there.”His shirttails dipped to his hips.His fingers shifting to unbuckle his belt before dropping it on the chair behind mesmerized her.

“Am I stripping too?”

“You could change into something more comfortable.Say jeans and a polo top, and we can start the evening again.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I haven’t got the patience.”

“Nice to hear.How does stripping work?”Snapping the button of his trousers open, he toed off his boots.“Do you pop a button and the dress falls at your feet?”

“You’re interested in the way things work?”She lifted her hands to the leather bow between her breasts.“This is a sophisticated item of clothing, not a burlesque outfit.It’s not held together with Velcro.”

“For the record, I like burlesque.”He stood hipshot, his trousers hanging on his hips, his boxer briefs—a teal green—riding higher, teasing her with the promise of what was to come.“Your turn to make a move.”