Didn't You Promise (A Bad for You Novel) by Amber Bardan

me. I placed my hand between my legs so it didn’t splatter, and tugged toilet paper from the dispenser, cleaning myself up.
    We’d shared lovemaking before, especially on the yacht. A lot of it I’d call lovemaking. Sometimes sweet, sometimes tender. Sometimes less so. Love softens need. Affection blunts passion’s fangs, so what once was a sting, becomes a tickle. The kind that makes you shiver. Still delicious, but no longer dangerous. I’d missed this—this carnal thing between us. What being on the run seemed to bring out in us.
    I washed my hands, and ran fingers through the wig.
    Haithem and I would always have more than passion.
    There’d still be lovemaking, but the fangs were there, still sharp, we just didn’t always have to use them.

Chapter Ten
    The airport in Thailand was the sweet little sister to India’s big bad brother. We made it through immigration without breaking a sweat, even taking a regular taxi all the way to the quiet resort Haithem had organized.
    Paradise wiped away the tension of previous days.
    A breeze sifted through the open plantation shutters to caress my bare back. Haithem’s chest flexed under my ear. I couldn’t move, my bones melted against the mattress and into him. Maybe there was more to see in Thailand than this, but I couldn’t be interested in anything other than what I had right between these walls.
    A view to kill for—white sand, amethyst seas, complete isolation—and the man I loved.
    Two days here could’ve been two weeks. Time dragged its feet in the heat. Even time found this place irresistible. He shifted underneath me. I groaned. He better not expect me to move. I mean I’d shag again, wouldn’t say no to more of that, but I’d just have to lay here. Let him do his thing. God knows when a man’s that good at something, then leave him to his gift. Me, though, I had nothing left to fuel muscles.
    He rolled to his side then pulled a bottle of sparkling water from the ice bucket. Water ran into his glass with a trickle that made my bladder clench.
    Who has the energy to get up and pee?
    I lay an arm over my eyes.
    Cold streaked across my ribs. A gasp flew from my lips.
    I dropped the arm from my eyes over my head.
    “Don’t move.” He held a cube of ice between his fingers. “Stay right as you are—arms up.”
    He pressed the cube to my skin. Water oozed from his hand, ice dissolving on the heat of my flesh. The hairs on my body stood on end. He ran the ice between my breasts over my sternum. I leaned into the breath of cool delivering me from humidity.
    He ran his hand across my collarbone then down over my breast. My nipple puckered. He looked at me, eyes hooded, hair a mess. If I had the energy, I’d raise my arms and bury my hands in that hair.
    He leaned down, running his tongue over the path the ice had been.
    Hot over cold.
    His mouth closed over my nipple. My back arched. My spine curved into a flurry of sensation. Desire pooled in my core.
    How is there more?
    My vagina must be grazed by now, worn out from loving, yet there it was again, insatiable desire. I’d have him again even if it hurt.
    He moved on, bringing the last of that melting ice down over my stomach, and dropped it in my belly button. He dived after it, sucking the moisture from my skin.
    I laughed—abdominals curling from ticklishness.
    His tongue dipped into my belly button. My hands flew to his hair, fisting around those thick locks.
    He lifted his head, gaze pinning me from under lush lashes. “I thought I told you to stay still.”
    “Or what?” I smiled a tight little smile. What could he do, what was there left to be done that he hadn’t done already?
    “Or, I’ll have to hold you down.” He smiled his own smile, full of wickedness.
    I shivered, fingers sliding through his hair. Maybe I’d pull these locks—dare him to flatten me out and pin me down.
    A gurgle emerged from my belly. He turned his face back to my stomach. A rumble echoed through the room. He