Naked Angel by Logan Belle Page B

thought of Gemma Kole as teeth-grindingly beautiful. But then, he knew she wasn’t. Somehow, it was this very lack of perfection that made her the object of his fascinated lust.
    For the past five years of his marriage, he’d managed to stay within the boundaries of what Martha and he defined as “just having fun.” He never had sex with another woman without Martha at least watching, if not fully participating. She trusted him to scout out the women to fulfill their more outrageous sexual fantasies. And she had made it clear from the beginning that no matter what happened between them and another woman in the bedroom, he was never to see that woman alone afterward. And living up to that agreement had never been an issue. After he and Martha had their way with someone, no matter how sexy or famous she was, he lost interest.
    He hadn’t planned to fuck Gemma by himself the night of the party. He’d thought that once he got into it, he’d find a way to get her downstairs so he could summon Martha. But the desire he’d felt for Gemma was so strong, he’d told himself he would give in to it just that one time. Yet now here he was, sitting in his Mercedes outside of Gemma’s Williamsburg apartment. In theory, he could still turn around and leave. But he had known there was no turning back from the minute he touched her.
    The odd thing was, she was probably the least sexual woman he’d been with in years. Typically, once he got a woman going, even the ones who were initially reluctant to do the three-way with him and Martha—once they started, it was game on. Some of the women who were most reticent at the beginning turned into the wildest ones in bed. But not Gemma. There was something cold and unreachable about her even at the point when she should be at the height of pleasure. And that, more than anything he’d experienced in his entire sexual life, turned him on.
    Gemma emerged from the run-down brownstone looking, to him, like an angel. Her unkempt blond hair fanned out behind her as she practically skipped to the car. He didn’t know how to read her good mood except to assume that she was excited to see him. This not only vanquished any doubts he had about what he was doing behind Martha’s back, it made him hard as a rock.
    “You look stunning,” he said, getting out to open the car door for her. She wore a black tulle skirt and an elaborately stitched bodice top. “Did you make that outfit?”
    “Yes,” she said, sitting in the front seat. “By the way, I have to be somewhere at eleven. But that shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
    Justin’s spirits—and erection—flagged.
    “You have plans after dinner?”
    “Well, yeah. It’s sort of business. Couldn’t be avoided. Sorry,” she said.
    He eyed her pillowy lips, the inviting gap between her front teeth. He thought about how still and quiet she had been when he fucked her in the way that made most other girls writhe and scream.
    “I forgive you,” he said. “We’ll just have to eat quickly.”
    “Our reservation is at seven thirty. That should give us plenty of time.”
    “We also need time to stop at my place after dinner.”
    “Oh, really? Isn’t that a bit presumptuous of you?”
    “Maybe. But your tight scheduling has forced me to be less than subtle.”
    “Hmm. My tight scheduling. So what’s been your excuse up ’til now?”
    He laughed and put a hand on her pale thigh. He had no idea how he would make it through dinner. Maybe he wouldn’t have to.
    “If you’re so short on time, maybe we should just head over to my place and order in.”
    “Whatever you want,” she said, looking at her BlackBerry.
    He wasn’t sure what to make of her lack of enthusiasm. Was that a yes? It certainly was not the kind of response he was used to getting to an invitation. But she wouldn’t say okay if she wasn’t somewhat interested—would she?
    He supposed he would just have to take her home and find out.
    Nadia felt no trepidation as she