Free Sex Drive by Susan Lyons Page A

feel sorry for me.”
    He gave a surprised laugh. His throbbing cock sure wasn’t sorry for her. She was damned fine to look at, sexy, and he enjoyed talking to her. He was having the most fun he’d had with a woman in a very long time, even though they were both fully clothed. “No fear of that. But I don’t want you getting hurt again.”
    “God! You and your massive ego.” Interesting to note that billabong eyes could spit fire. “Day, I won’t give anyone the power to hurt me. If we do—whatever—it’s going to be fully consensual. If we’re using each other, it’s for our mutual pleasure, and that’s all.”
    Using each other? Nah, that’s what he and Carmen would’ve been doing. Her wanting to fuck a celebrity, him just wanting to get his rocks off. He reached over to spoon up some mousse, then held the spoon to Theresa’s lips. “Consensual is good. But, Prof…”
    Slowly she licked chocolate from the spoon, her gaze holding his.
    “Prof, if we…share dessert, or anything else, it’s not about using each other. Mutual pleasure, yes. Using, no. Got it?”
    “Y-yes. I do.” Her eyes were luminous.
    Gently he used his thumb to clean a smudge of mousse from her upper lip. Then he licked the chocolate from his thumb. Her eyes widened. Glittered with sexual heat. “Mutual,” he said. “Pleasure.”
    She nodded as if hypnotized.
    Damn, but he was impatient for the cabin lights to dim and give them some privacy.
    Fortunately, Carmen and the flight attendant who handled the other side of the business-class cabin were clearing away dinner trays and offering final refills of coffee and tea. Passengers rose, stretched, headed for the lavatories.
    Across the aisle, the great-grandparents were yawning and unwrapping blankets. She’d put her crocheting away. Damien would bet his next advance that they’d be dozing off, not staying up to watch a movie.
    Theresa slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and rose. “Excuse me, Day.” She headed up the aisle to join a small queue.
    While she was gone, Carmen refilled their coffee cups and offered chocolates. “Or has your fiancée had enough chocolate?” she asked sarcastically.
    “Can any woman ever have too much chocolate?” He took one and put it on Theresa’s tray, beside her coffee. “Ta, Carmen.”
    “Right,” she said coolly.
    Now was his chance for a private conversation. “Look,” he said softly, “I acted like a jerk, flirting with you. It was stupid. I’m sorry.”
    Her face softened a touch. “That’s it? An apology, with no attempt to excuse yourself?”
    He shook his head. “I was wrong. Period. Again, I’m sorry.” He tried out a low-powered version of the smile he knew many women found irresistible. “It’s a knee-jerk reflex, flirting with a pretty lady. And this being engaged thing is so new, I’m not used to it. We really want to keep it a secret for now, so please don’t spread the news.”
    “Well, I have to say, you’re gonna break some hearts when women find out you’re off the eligible list, Damien Black.” Her expression was a degree or two warmer when she moved away to serve the people behind him.
    He wondered what she’d think when his engagement was never announced.
    When Theresa returned, she said, “They give us chocolates, too?”
    “It’s their version of the chocolate on your pillow.” He winked. “Speaking of which—pillows and all—you weren’t planning on watching a movie, were you?”
    “I really should work.” Her voice lacked conviction.
    So should he, but hell, this opportunity—this woman—was too good to pass up. “Don’t want to disillusion Carmen. She’ll figure our marriage is doomed to failure.”
    “Oh gosh, I’m so worried about Carmen’s opinion.”
    He chuckled. “Besides, remember the ‘all work’ thing? Isn’t the prof allowed some time off to play?”
    “Well…” Her cheeks were pink again. “Dare I ask what you had in mind?”
    “I think you just