Spectacular Rascal: A Sexy Flirty Dirty Standalone Romance by Lili Valente Page A

stuff in the woods, I figured out that you’d had a thing for me. Though, yes, I should have caught on a lot sooner.”
    “You should have.” Her smile is hard, heavy. “You were a dumb boy, but I was dumb, too. I should have given up and dated someone who was interested instead of carrying a torch for you for two years.”
    She rolls her neck, a sensuous movement that’s so sexy all I can think about is how much I want my lips on her throat, feeling the pulse of her blood beneath her pale skin. But between the fucked-up past and the fucked-up present, this island between us might as well be an ocean.
    “But I’m still glad I confessed.” She brushes her hair over her shoulder with a graceful flick of her wrist. “That’s information I wanted to be sure you had in your possession before you started talking to me about my panties again.”
    Fuck.
    Fuck me. Fuck me somewhere it hurts without lube.
    “I’m sorry,” I say, though I know it’s not enough. “I’m an asshole. I didn’t even think about—”
    “No you’re not an asshole. You were right.” She blinks, her green eyes clear and focused. “My panties were wet,” she says in a voice that goes straight to my dick, sending my flagging erection surging back to life. “One kiss and I was ready to go at it against my ex-boyfriend’s limo.”
    “Cat…” Her name is a warning, though I don’t know if the warning is meant for her or me or both of us.
    Or what I’m going to do if she ignores it.
    “I wanted you to fuck me as much as I ever did,” she continues, bracing her palms on the counter. She leans forward, granting me a view down the front of her dress and a glimpse of creamy lace against creamier skin, sending my blood pressure skyrocketing. “Maybe more. You were always good with your hands and your mouth, but you’re even better now. You make me feel like I’m on fire. All over. In the best way.”
    I clench my jaw and fight the urge to sweep my hand across the counter and send the glasses shattering to the floor as I drag Cat across the marble and take her right here on the kitchen island.
    “So yes, Aidan, I was wet this morning.” The gleam in her eyes is diabolical, making me suspect she might be deliberately trying to give me a heart attack. “And I was wet when you were talking dirty to me a few minutes ago. And I could be wet again in a hot second if you said you wanted to take your next shot off my tits and fuck me on the floor.”
    I fist my hands so tight my knuckles ache. Sweat breaks out between my shoulder blades and a vein in my neck starts to throb. I am so fucking close to losing control, but I force my hands to remain on the counter.
    She’s not done torturing me yet—I can tell by the lilt in her voice. And, glutton for punishment that I am, I have to hear what she’s going to say next.
    “But I know that’s a conflict of interest for you.” Her gaze scans my face, honing in on my mouth, making me think she wants to be kissed as much as I want to be kissing her. “Though, you haven’t seemed too stressed about keeping things professional thus far. So maybe all that ‘no more than a kiss’ stuff is just a front to keep on the right side of the law. Maybe you always fuck your clients.”
    “Never. Not a single time,” I say in a voice too thick with lust to be convincing, even though I’m telling the truth.
    I want to open a second location of my shop badly enough to play Knight With Scary Tattoos to deserving women in need, but not enough to fuck people for money. I’m as shameless as the next confirmed bachelor when it comes to getting laid, but I fuck who I want, when I want. Because sex should be about what two people want to do to each other, not what one of them has bought and paid for.
    I’m about to tell Cat so, but she waves her hand through the air. “Seriously. It’s not a big deal. Even if you have sex with women for money, I don’t care.” She reaches for another shot. “Which brings me