Free Betting on Julia (A Melville Sisters Novel) (Entangled Covet) by Nina Croft

tugging her skirt down over her thighs.
    “Crap,” she muttered.
    He followed her gaze and found her staring down. Her sweater was open to the waist, baring her breasts, which were spilling out of the cups of her bra. She adjusted herself, pulled the edges of the sweater together, but most of the buttons were scattered. In the end, she fastened her jacket over the top. “There, decent.”
    “I’m sorry,” he said again and shoved the pink lace panties in his pocket.
    She grinned. “Wow, when you lose it, you really lose it,” she said. “Hey, that was meant as a compliment.”
    “I’ll buy you a new sweater,” he said.
    “No need.” Her gaze drifted down his body, snagging on the bulge that still pressed almost painfully against his fly. She swayed toward him, shook herself, and stepped away. “Let’s get home.”
    They were quiet on the walk back. Bastian did his best to clear his mind, and he’d regained his control by the time they halted outside Julia’s front door. She turned to him, put her palm against his chest, and smiled. “You want to come in for a drink?”
    Without giving himself time to think, he shook his head. “No.”
    A frown formed between her eyes. “No?”
    “I think we both need time to calm down.”
    “We do?”
    He lowered his head and kissed her really quickly on the lips and backed off. “Good night. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” And he turned and walked away.
    …
    Julia closed the door behind her and leaned her back against the wood.
    Her body still buzzed with need, and she was soaking wet—the no panties hadn’t helped—she was feeling distinctly slutty. Not to mention unsatisfied.
    She shuffled into the sitting room. The half-empty bottle of champagne still sat on the table. She grabbed it on the way past and flung herself down on the sofa. Taking a slug straight from the bottle, she nearly choked as the bubbles tried to escape back up her throat. She took another sip and rested her head against the cushions, closed her eyes, and remembered the feel of his mouth on her breasts, his long finger pushing inside her, stroking her clit.
    Fuck she was one frustrated bitch.
    She took another gulp of champagne to put off thinking about the worst bit of the night.
    The bit where Thing had woken up about the time Bastian was sticking his tongue down her throat. And she’d been one unhappy-tail-between-the-legs Thing.
    A razor-sharp claw flicked her from the inside. “Ouch.” She was guessing Thing wasn’t too fond of her name. “Well, stop interfering in my love life, and I’ll stop calling you Thing ,” she muttered.
    While she’d done her best to ignore it at the time, now she had to think this through. She’d become really good at sticking her head in the sand and pretending her life wasn’t a pile of doggy crap. But it was time to face up to an unpleasant truth: Thing did not like Sebastian.
    This was bad news.
    The whole try-and-have-lots-of-sex-with-hottie-neighbor technique had been all about keeping Thing quiet and in her place. And that wasn’t scratching Julia’s insides while she tried to have a medicinal shag with her sexy neighbor down a dark alley.
    Obviously, Thing had terrible taste. Sebastian was stunning, gorgeous, sexy, and he could kiss… What was there not to like?
    All the same, she was going to have to stop seeing him.
    She slammed the now-empty champagne bottle on the table.
    He was coming to lunch with her sisters on Sunday. That alone had been enough to frighten off at least two former boyfriends. But would it be enough to frighten off Bastian?
    It was weird; while he came across as some mild-mannered accountant, there was something wrong with that description. She knew he was made of sterner stuff than he was letting on.
    But why was that?
    It really was none of her concern. Sebastian Crane was no longer a contender for position of provider of sex as a means of calming the beast.
    Thing wagged her tail.
    “You can shut up—this is your