Page 16 of Karma

Gotcha. I knew you remembered me, love. “I really do ride. My bike’s out back if you want to see.”

“Thanks, but I’ll have to pass. I’m actually quite busy.”

“No time to reminisce about the past?” I ask, concealing my desire with a lighthearted tease.

“None,” is her flat response. “So if you’ll excuse me?—”

Fuck, no. I’m not letting her get away so soon. I match her step, blocking her before she can detour around me, continuing on her hunt.

She bites the corner of her mouth.

I nearly cream my pants.

That should’ve been the warning sign. I was already in too deep, just from one night that left with me addicted to the promise of a woman I couldn’t have. Now you’re telling me that I can? I’m not some horny teen who can’t control myself. I’m a grown man who’s used to women throwing themselves at him.

And then there’sher. The woman who didn’t offer me shit, but took it—and now she asked me to marry her…marryher… and she’s ready to move on before I even have the chance to answer her.

She flashes me an annoyed grimace, then moves quickly again, her heels clacking against the shiny wood floor.

I block her again, running my fingers through my hair, giving her a rakish look that’s won me hundreds of hearts. “By the way, I’m not.”

Her grimace becomes a frown. “Not going to marry me?”

“Not married already.”

She nods.

I reach down, taking her hand in mine before she can snatch it back. Bringing it to my lips, I kiss the top of her hand. “Yet.”

She sucks in a breath. “Oh. Okay.”

“What do you say, love? We at the point for names yet?”

Her pretty brown eyes glaze over. For a moment, she’s stunned in the center of the Court, the overhead light shining down on her. I’ve blocked out the Owed. Blocked out the Used. Right now, it’s just me and?—

“Annaliese,” she says breathlessly. “My name is Annaliese Crawford.”

“Sebastien Reynolds,” I answer, emphasizing the French pronunciation of my first name in a way I usually don’t bother doing unless I’m trying to impress a chick. “But you can call me Bas. All my friends do.”

“We’re not friends.”

Not quite the reaction I expected. Most everybody in town, if they don’t already know who I am, have at least heard of me. I don’t know if Annaliese has or not, but there’s no recognition past looking at me and seeing the man who fucked her.

Just in case, why not a little reminder?

I lean toward Annaliese, whispering straight in her ear. “I’m glad. I don’t fuck my friends.”

She gulps. I’m close enough to notice, and I take advantage of rattling her by doing it again. I kissed her hand before. Now I brush a kiss against the top shell of her ear.

She shudders.

I pull away. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Her lips part, mouth falling open just enough to give me a sudden fantasy of guiding my brunette beauty to the floor before feeding my cock past those puffy pink lips. I bet it would feelamazing.