Page 38 of Just One More Night

She was breathing heavily, her gaze something almost like hostile as she stared back at him—but Stefan knew that had more to do with the fact he hadn’t let her come.

“I will tell you what I know in only these short weeks,” he said. “You have spent no time at all maintaining your online life. I never see you huddled in a corner, scrolling through your phone, certain you’ve missed something. You seem genuinely happy. Maybe the trouble is that you don’t believe it.”

He saw her sit with that. And saw, too, that she didn’t like the weight of it.

“The trouble,” she said solemnly, “is that you are not inside me.”

“You know how to fix that,” he growled at her.

And when she went to straddle him, he turned her around. She pulled her bikini to one side as she wriggled against him, arching her back as he pulled out his cock so he could slam himself inside her.

For a moment the sheer wonder of it swept over him. Her too, he knew. They both paused, reveling in that impossible fit.

She might think it was this house. His art collection, or this new, pretty life he’d made for himself. But Stefan knew the truth.

His home was her.

But that wasn’t something he intended to tell her. Not yet. He wrapped one arm around her middle, holding her as he began to pound into her. He turned her head so he could take her mouth, because there weren’t enough ways to taste her.

There never would be. Not in a lifetime.

Maybe more.

And then he showed her what he could not put into words, and fucked them both home.

CHAPTER NINE

“I’MTRYINGTOdecide what my great passion in life is,” Indy announced one morning into her mobile, and wasn’t surprised when Bristol, off in some or other city on her world tour with Lachlan Drummond, laughed.

“I thought that was obvious,” Bristol said. “Isn’t it?”

Indy had been on her way toward the kitchen when she’d been sidetracked by her current favorite room in Stefan’s house. She’d left her book in here yesterday and when she’d come in to retrieve it, had sat down and called Bristol. Her favorite room in the house changed by the day. This one was arranged around a white-bricked fireplace, with only a few throw rugs and a deep red painting to break up the color scheme.

It appealed to her sense of drama.

“Thank you, asshole, but I like sex for fun, not for profit.” She let out a theatrical sort of sigh because she knew it would make her sister roll her eyes. “Believe me, if I felt otherwise, I’ve had ample opportunity to take up sex work.”

That was all too true. She’d been offered all kinds of fascinating positions. Some people wanted her to be a dominatrix. Others thought she should lean into the erotic dancing. Or try the yacht-girl thing at Cannes and see if she could make that into an enterprise. One of the women she’d met in the South of France had told her frankly that these days, the internet made it so easy to conduct a personal escort service without having to cut anyone else in, that any woman whodidn’tmake money that way was a fool.

Indy had found all of these offers and suggestions fascinating. Surely it said something kind of fabulous about her that so many people thought she could make money from an act she would have done anyway—and for free?

Anyway, she had always chosen to take it as a compliment. No matter how it was meant.

“I would ordinarily express dismay at that sentiment,” Bristol said, sounding... Not happy. Not sad either, but almost... Rueful. “But you know. Pot meet kettle and there I am in the middle.”

“Signing a contract to be somebody’s girlfriend isn’t sex work,” Indy said loyally. “Not really.”

“I think you’ll find it is.”

“Not at all.” Indy waved a hand at Stefan’s white fireplace, as if her sister could see her. “It’s nothing more than a prenuptial agreement for a relationship that isn’t a marriage. Totally socially acceptable.”

“I’ll let Mom know then. She’ll be so proud.”

“Sometimes,” Indy said, in a confiding way, “I’m pretty much positive that Mom and Dad might just be bigger freaks than we think. We had to come from somewhere. And maybe there’s a reason they’ve always been perfectly happy to stay home and settle in to that Ohio life. Why bother going out when you have everything you could possibly desire right there with you already?”

“Ew. What? No.”

“I’m telling you—I think they have a rollicking—”