Enjoy this excerpt from Bad Reputation, book 2 in the Bad Bachelor Series.
She paused at the closed bedroom door that led to the rest of his apartment, pressing her hand to the wood while she mustered the courage to face him. It was messed up, but Remi was more comfortable in the throes of sex than in the moments after. With every other guy since Alex, she’d changed as soon as the deed was done and left with a saucy wink or a lingering kiss. She always left.
Only tonight, she’d fallen asleep entwined in his arms. This was different. He was different.
“Woman up,” she said to herself. “You can make a swift exit and then go on like it never happened.”
But the second she pushed the bedroom door open, her heart melted. His dining table was set for two, a bottle of wine open with two glasses waiting. Wes was in the kitchen, concentrating on measuring out some soy sauce into a sizzling pan on the stove. The guy even had an apron on. Seriously, who the hell was he?
It was like someone had polled a bunch of women and created the perfect man. Handsome face, incredible body, a giving lover, and a whiz in the kitchen judging by the scent.
“You’re so perfect it’s kind of ridiculous,” she said.
He whipped his head around, the surprised expression morphing into a sexy smile. “For someone who had enough orgasms to put her to sleep, you sure are full of insults.”
She padded over to him, her bare feet making soft slapping sounds against the floorboards. “Maybe you should try harder to be less intimidating.”
“It’s all in your head, Remi.” He slipped a finger behind the waist tie and pulled her closer.
“You can’t possibly be ready to go again.” She laughed and pressed a hand to his crotch, as though this was totally normal behavior, and found him hard again. “Bloody hell. You’re a machine.”
“A sex machine.”
“That’s not normal.” She couldn’t help but rub her hand up and down. Call her shallow, but she was all kinds of excited knowing he was so eager for her. “I have serious concerns for your health and well-being.”
“What do I do, Doc?” He drew her against him, walking them away from the stove until he hit the other set of cupboards behind him. Her hips swirled against his, eliciting the bite of his fingers at her waist. “How do I rectify this issue?”
“I don’t know if anything can be done. You might have to amputate.”
“Whoa.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, his brow crinkled. “You never joke about that kind of thing. You trying to give me a heart attack or something?”
She laughed and draped her arms over his shoulders. “At least that might slow you down.”
“There will be no further discussion of cutting off my manhood, thank you very much.” He looked her in the eyes and she felt it right down to her toes, making them curl against the polished boards. How did he do that to her? It was such a small thing and yet it was…everything. “Now, can I interest you in my specialty?”
“You ask me now, after I’ve had your specialty twice tonight?” She bit down on her lip when he rolled her eyes.
“I’m trying to be romantic here and you’ve got your mind in the gutter.” He didn’t look annoyed in the slightest. “I might be a machine, but even machines need fuel.”
Dinner. It seemed a whole lot scarier than the touching and kissing and panting. The smart move would be to bail now, before things got weird. Before they started talking and doing that kind of stuff she generally avoided.
But the truth was she was really freaking hungry.
“It smells amazing,” she admitted.
“It’s my go-to—honey, soy, and ginger stir-fry with whatever vegetables I happen to have in my fridge.” He released her. “Tonight that’s carrots, snap peas, and red peppers.”
Most guys wouldn’t have worried about dinner. A good guy might have offered to call the local Chinese takeout place. Wes had made her something healthy and delicious like it was nothing.
“Why are you so sweet?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. “Have you got some kind of trick up your sleeve?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I want to feed you so we can go back to bed afterward.”
“You don’t need to feed me to do that.”
“Maybe I enjoy your company. Is that so hard to believe?” He grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the vegetables around the wok, lifting the scent of ginger and garlic into the air. Remi’s mouth watered. “And, despite what you might have read, I’m don’t screw around for the sake of it. If I sleep with someone, it’s because I like them.”
The scariest thing of all was that Remi wanted to believe him. Normally when a guy tossed her a line like that, she’d smile and nod all the while thinking yeah right. It never affected her, because she refused to put herself in a situation where she’d get attached. Like the time she had a friends-with-benefits arrangement with a guy who lived in Las Vegas. He’d only ever come to New York for one or two nights at a time. It was fun. Only fun.
That was the kind of thing she needed in her life. Something low maintenance and low commitment that required the minimum attention. Like a cactus.
Cactus sex, good. Homemade stir-fries and real conversation sex, bad.
“In case that wasn’t clear enough, I like you,” he added.
No, no, no.
Her head had clearly gotten the memo, but the uneven, too-fast thump of her heart showed that not all major body parts were on the same page. And that was a problem.
“This is the part where you give me some verbal indication of whether or not that feeling is reciprocated.” He shot her a crooked smile. “So I don’t stand here like an idiot twiddling my thumbs.”
Her first instinct was to make some kind of joke that revolved around an inappropriate use of the word twiddle.
“I like you too,” she said.
Wrong answer! Abort mission. I repeat, abort mission.