Free Wicked Lovers 07 Ours to Love by Shayla Black Page A

someday. Right now, all she wanted
     to do was meet people, date, and okay, maybe have a little sex. Or a lot. She had
     as much libido as the next girl, maybe more since she didn’t exactly know what she
     was missing. But books and movies provided tantalizing glimpses. Even if it wasn’t
     like all the glorified fictional accounts, well . . . then she’d know, right? She
     could finally say she’d experienced something—with a man who knew what the hell he
     was doing. If Xander had slept with that many women, why would he mind one more? She
     doubted that her virginity or her past would even matter to him.
    Decision made, London loosened her top button and pulled aside the edges of her blouse
     so he’d get a good glimpse at her cleavage. “You can turn around now.”
    He did, appreciation lighting his eyes instantly. “Lovely. I didn’t mean to scare
     you or peek uninvited. The door was open, I walked in, and you looked so beautiful
     that I simply couldn’t stop you. So glad I didn’t.”
    Xander reached out slowly, seeming to give her plenty of opportunity to back away.
     Heat rushed up her body. Her heart chugged and pulsed violently, but she refused to
     give in to the urge to scamper away.
    With a reassuring smile, he helped her off the stage, then curled his fingers around
     her elbow with a proprietary grip, using it to draw her closer. “Come with me. Sit
     and talk.” The words were half-request, half-command. He gestured to the club’s dark
     bar. London didn’t see the harm.
    “All right.”
    “Excellent. I can’t promise that I won’t try to proposition you, but you’re always
     free to say no.” He sent her a disarming grin. “I’d like to get to know you. For now,
     I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he promised. “Mostly. Until you tell me otherwise.”
    London hesitated, trying to think things through, but it was damn difficult with him
     so near. “You don’t give up, do you?”
    “Not when I want something.”
    With a very charming and no doubt well-practiced smile, he led her to the bar and
     eased her into a booth in the corner. It didn’t escape her notice that he situated
     himself squarely between her and the exit.
    Staring at him from under her lashes, London settled herself into the seat he’d indicated,
     peeking at his chiseled face, lingering on the sensual curve of his lips, then trailing
     down to his bulging shoulders and broad chest. When she realized she was flat-out
     staring, she jerked her gaze back up to his face. He flashed her a
gotcha
smile with lots of white teeth and cockiness. He’d seen her mostly naked and was
     still flirting. That was a good sign.
    “How long had you been, um . . . watching me?” she asked.
    “I was going to call out to you as you fired up the music, but once you started dancing,
     I couldn’t stop someone that sexy. Besides, you looked like you were having fun.”
    Her mother called men like him incorrigible. He was definitely the sort to ask forgiveness,
     not permission. “I was, but no one was supposed to see that. Any chance you’ll forget
     about it?”
    “Not even a remote one.” Xander’s grin widened as he leaned over the table and stared
     intently. “Tell me something about you, sexy London.”
    “I’m twenty-five and I just moved here. And . . .” She had nothing else interesting
     to say. “What about you?”
    “I’m thirty, I’m here for a few weeks, and . . .” He grabbed her hand and folded it
     between both of his, surrounding her with strong fingers. “I’m wondering why you go
     a little tense every time I say you’re sexy.”
    He’d noticed? “It’s a great pickup line, but . . .”
    “You don’t believe that I’m going to put your striptease in my spank bank?” He winked.
     “We’ll chat for a bit. In, say, ten minutes, I’ll tell you that you’re sexy again
     and hope it will feel better to you. Deal?”
    That sounded great, but she was hardly a size four.