Page 36 of Closer

“Within reason, you would know yourself, I can’t do it for many hours on end.”

“Nope, never had that problem.” He grins salaciously.

I roll my eyes and my lips form a tight line. “And you’ll put on pants?”

“Well, I think you’d prefer if I didn’t, but sure. I’ll wear pants,” he says. “Do we have a deal?”

“Oui, marché conclut.”

He offers me his hand and I shake it firmly. Then I try not to think about what kind of venereal diseases I just became exposed to by placing my hand in his.

“Je ne parle pas français.” He butchers my language, but the grin that follows has the fine hairs on my neck standing on end. Levi Quinn is every bit as dark and dangerous as I’d first predicted. Uncouth, rude, obnoxious, and yes, while still very attractive, he is an arse. I wouldn’t touch him if he were the last man on earth. And he can wipe that salacious grin off his face too, because this is as close as I am ever going to get to his penis. “Damn, woman, you keep looking at my junk like that and we may have to change the terms of our agreement.”

I straighten, hold my head high and say, “Not in a million years, rock star.”

“A man can dream.”

I pick up my case. He doesn’t offer to take it for me. I am not surprised by this. “A man shouldn’t if he wishes this woman to stay and play.”

“Christ, you know how suggestive that sounds, don’t you?”

I roll my eyes and exhale slowly. “Is it going to be like this the entire week?”

“Hot, intense, explosive?” He raises a brow with each word, and the look he gives me is 100 per cent pure lust. “Why don’t you give in and we can find out?”

I lean in, so I can whisper in his ear, “Never. Going. To. Happen.”