Rebound
Ann Bruce
A darkened room& hurried breaths& frenzied touches& impulsive decisions&
Wanting her on sight, he manipulated a tryst. Angry and betrayed by another, she
let him. Mutual desire leaves no room for rationale.
After all, there s something to be said for a good& rebound.
Ellora s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Rebound
ISBN 9781419935824
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Rebound Copyright © 2011 Ann Bruce
Edited by Kelli Collins
Cover design by Syneca
Photography by Les Byerley
Electronic book publication August 2011
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REBOUND
Ann Bruce
Rebound
Chapter One
The clothes said he didn t belong in the lobby of the mansion-turned-luxury hotel.
The command emanating from his frame, his stride and his gaze said otherwise. Clad in
a rumpled white shirt, faded blue jeans and worn cowboy boots, and carrying a black
overnight bag, he headed straight for the reception desk and the staff whose
expressions were faintly wary.
A slim man in a very nice suit and a brass name tag hurried from around the desk,
and Amie half expected him to fall to his knees and bow. Instead he started talking, fast.
And apparently got nowhere, if the tightening of the broad shoulders on the man
looking down at him was any indication.
She wasn t staring, Amie told herself, and touched some random buttons on her
smart phone. Not blatantly anyway. And her heart was beating a little faster, a little
harder, because of her annoyance at David s lateness.
The man turned and through the veils of her lashes, Amie caught sight of dark hair,
equally dark eyes and features too harsh to be handsome. Despite the hour, a heavy five
o clock shadow covered the lower half of his face, surrounding a sculpted mouth. His
lips were thin with displeasure and something skipped down her spine. She told herself
it was relief for not being the target of that displeasure.
 Amie, a male voice called.
She started and jerked her head toward the voice, wondering if her face was as
guilty-looking as she felt. David, blond and blue-eyed, was hurrying toward her. She
put a hand to her stomach, as if it would calm the roiling, and rose. He reached her,
cupped her shoulders and whisked a cool, dry kiss across her lips.
 Sorry I m late. Frank caught me in the elevator and you know how he is.
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Ann Bruce
She drew back, snatched up her handbag and slipped the smart phone inside.
 Don t worry about it. I surprised you by coming early, remember? Where are we going
for lunch?
David settled a hand on the small of her back and steered her in the direction of the
entrance.  I talked to the staff. There s an excellent French restaurant in town. The chef s
a James Beard recipient. We can get in some sightseeing afterward and be back in time
for the event tonight.
 That sounds  She froze, skin tight with the awareness of being watched. Before
she could stop herself, she glanced over her shoulder. The cowboy was stalking through
a door behind the reception desk like he knew where he was going, the suit trailing on
his heels. Only her imagination, she decided, ignoring a tiny flicker of emotion she
didn t want to examine too closely.
 Amie?
She gave herself a mental shake.  That sounds great, she said, and hoped her smile
didn t look forced.
* * * * *
The open balcony door beckoned. Escape was within her grasp. Amie reached it,
edged through the opening, hurried around the corner and kept going. The railing
dead-ended and she was forced to stop. It was dark, the moon clouded over, the noise
muted and she was alone. Finally. She exhaled, felt the tension seep from her
shoulders and closed her eyes, letting the autumn air cool the heat of embarrassment
and anger.
A whisper of cloth against cloth. Her eyes flew open and she froze. Her heart leapt.
Ice clinked. She whirled around and a shadow detached itself from a recessed doorway.
Large and looming, and oddly familiar. She stumbled back a step, tried another but the
stone railing halted her retreat.
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Rebound
 Here. The voice was male, low and rough like it hadn t been used in a while.
There was the faintest hint of a drawl. He was a long way from home. More ice clinking.
 You look like you need this more than I do.
A breeze molded the shift dress to her body, making her realize just how thin the
silk was. She crossed her arms over her chest, swallowed. He started to move closer.
When she edged sideways, slowly because sudden movements didn t seem smart, he
stopped.
 If you want to be alone, I can leave, he offered, even though she d been the one to
intrude on his privacy. He reached for the door behind him, turned the knob.
 Wait. Her heart was suddenly pounding as if it was trying to break through bone
and flesh. Hearing the breathless quality of her voice, she told herself it was the brisk
walk from the ballroom. She took a breath.  I m the one who should leave. You were
here first.
He cocked his head, silent. She felt his scrutiny and suddenly hoped for another
breeze to cool her skin.
 If you promise no inane chatter, he said finally,  we can share the space.
She nodded, not trusting her voice. He took a step toward her and meager light
from the rooms above fell over him. White shirt, worn blue jeans and cowboy boots. A
switch flipped on in her brain.
 Do I pass muster?
 Sorry. Her cheeks heated and she yanked her gaze up. She remembered that
mouth. Tight, hard, it had held her attention when she d seen him in the lobby. Now,
though, a corner of that mouth lifted, amusement and knowledge in that faint half-
smile, and she didn t want to look away.
She spun around, stared blindly at the garden, leaned against the railing and shifted
her arms lower, hoping to still the coiling sensation in her middle and failing. She
sensed movement, her skin prickling, then he was beside her. Even though he was
careful to not block her escape, the delicate wings in her stomach kept fluttering. The
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Ann Bruce
soft material of his shirt skimmed her bare arm. A hot shiver skipped down her spine
but she didn t move away.
He put the rocks glass on the wide railing and pushed it toward her. Without a
word, she picked it up and took a swallow. And inhaled sharply and shivered some
more when fire burned down her throat and pooled in her stomach. He chuckled, the
sound low and dark. Her skin tightened and she had to close her eyes for a moment,
glad for the railing s support.
Female laughter, rich and suggestive, drifted from an open window, dragging her
back to her senses. Stupid, she thought. Standing here in the dark with a stranger. No matter
how hot he is. She exhaled, set the rocks glass down. No matter how much I need to
reconfirm my femininity.  I& I have to go. She turned.
A hand shot out and clasped her wrist. Amie stilled, afraid to look back, more
afraid of doing something to make that large hand withdraw. His touch seared, the heat
traveling from the point of contact and up her arm, spreading over her chest and lower.
She planted a hand on the cool stone and pushed down, deliberately imprinting the
rough texture onto her skin. Stupid, she told herself again, but her feet felt rooted to the
floor. The fingers around her wrist loosened, and something akin to panic flooded her.
 Don t. The word slipped past her lips before she could stop herself.
He misunderstood and let his hand drop away, and the sudden bereft feeling made
her want to hug herself.
She closed her eyes again because it was easier in the total darkness.  Don t& stop.
The sudden silence was heavy, muffling all other noises like batting. Amie waited,
anxiety and anticipation an uneasy mix in the pit of her stomach. She felt his move
rather than heard it; warmth surrounded her, flattened her hand on the railing, pressed
against her back. Driven by instinct, she inhaled deeply. A warm, clean scent of male
filled her nostrils. Maybe that s what had her knees buckling. Or maybe it was the
parted lips on her neck. It didn t matter which. All she knew was that a melting
sensation had started at the sensitive skin beneath where her jaw met her ear and was
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Rebound
quickly spreading throughout her body. A shudder ran down her frame, leaving goose
bumps in its wake.
An arm encircled her waist, keeping her upright and pulling her even closer to the
body behind her. A soft, feline mewl of pleasure escaped her when the pointed tip of
his tongue traced teasing patterns on the small area covered by his open mouth. She
stretched onto her tiptoes and, without shame, pushed her hips back, wanting to feel his
erection nestled between her buttocks, seeking release for the tight coil of desire that
kept winding, creating a delicious kind of urgency.
Amie, lashes lowered, rubbed her body sensuously against his harder form as he
ran a rough hand over her shoulder, down her ribs, his fingers skimming the sides of
her breasts; across her tummy, causing new flutters within; over the apex of her legs,
pressing hard enough that she was sure he could feel her dampness through her dress.
Fire washed over her.
Her breath hitched and she turned her head.  Please, she breathed, beginnings of
desperation in the word. His hands clenched, squeezing her flesh, then his mouth
covered hers. Her lips parted, wanting the feel of their tongues sliding together. He
obliged, thrusting deeply, and a broken sound escaped her. She tried to reciprocate,
couldn t, and reached for him, digging her nails into forearm and thigh.
He tore his mouth from hers and froze, as hard and still as a stone statue. A low
protest rose from her throat. The arms around her squeezed then he muttered,  Fuck,
and she heard it too. Voices, footsteps, approaching them.
 Come, he growled in her ear, loosened his grip and moved backward. He opened
the door behind them, went inside and tugged her along. She stumbled and clung to
him. When she was steady, he released her and closed the door. She heard the snick of
the lock.
In the total blackness, uncertainties arose. She looked about, saw nothing because
her pupils hadn t adjusted, and heard the voice of common sense berating her. She
swallowed.
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Ann Bruce
 Second thoughts? The words floated out of the darkness, hit her skin. Her sharp
inhalation was loud in the muffled quiet of the room. He was close enough to touch her,
and when she didn t answer, couldn t answer, a rough hand curled around the nape of
her neck and tipped her head back.
He kissed her. He bit at her lips, soothed them with his tongue, and when she
parted them, surged inside and explored the soft contours of her mouth.
Amie moaned, let her tiny silk wristlet slide from her wrist and grabbed fistfuls of
his shirt because her knees threatened to buckle. She let her body sink into his, arching
her pelvis as she sought sexual release. He skimmed his palms over her buttocks before
cupping her hips, lifting and tilting them so he could grind into her, move her against
him. She whimpered, quivering with the heady, almost painful mixture of pleasure and
frustration. He gave a small thrust, and her sharp teeth came down on his lower lip,
hard enough to draw blood.
He drew back in surprise. Shocked by her own actions, Amie stared at him.
Apologize, she thought then felt him swell against her middle, and all thoughts
dissipated. He cursed again. Suddenly something hard and solid was against her back.
He crushed his mouth to hers. Their teeth scraped, tongues twirled around each other,
and the metallic taste of his blood flavored their kiss.
Amie dug her fingertips in the heavy muscle of his shoulders, wanting to pull him
closer, wanting to lie down on any surface and pull his body over hers. She wanted to
feel his heavy weight, his calloused palms on her naked flesh, his teeth scrape her
ultrasensitive nipples, his hardness stretch her deep inside. But she would ve settled for
something anything to release this vicious ache that only intensified the more she
touched him.
He slid his thigh between her legs, making her dress ruche up around her hips. She
inhaled, anticipation wound like a spring inside her. His fingers dug into her flesh and
her breath locked in her throat. He jerked on her hips, ramming her core against his
muscled thigh. She broke the kiss to draw breath as she rode it, feeling every fiber of his
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rough jeans through the silk of her thong. The tension consuming her twisted even
more.
He nipped at the skin of her arched throat, dragged his lips up to her ear and
whispered hotly. Broken phrases of how much he wanted her, of how hot and wet she
was, of how hot and wet she would feel around him. Her mouth fell open but no sound
emerged. The movement of her hips quickened, became erratic. He sucked her earlobe
between his lips, bit it. And she came, splintering into a million brilliant pieces. Her
head fell back as she found her voice, and he swallowed her cry of release.
Moments, maybe eons later, Amie dropped her entire weight on him, letting the
intriguing stranger support her. He was still rubbing her damp sex against his thigh.
She clutched his shoulders, not wanting to let go, afraid to let go. She took several
shuddering breaths and buried her face in his chest, listening to the rapid, uneven beat
of his heart.
She was a warm, light weight, molded to him like softened candle wax. Her hands
had fallen to his sides, rested there, fingers lax and open like she no longer had the
strength to make a fist. Jay felt the hammering of her heart, felt the cushions of her
breasts move against him with every panting breath, and his muscles shook with the
need to come, to ram himself inside and feel her, soft and hot and wet around his cock.
He eased his leg from between hers and slipped a hand between their bodies. The
inside of her thighs were like velvet, soft and smooth, and later he would spend more
time appreciating them. He found her thong, the crotch damp, smiled with grim
satisfaction and slid two fingers into her creamy center. A throaty moan drifted to his
ears and he thrust his fingers inside her. He cursed, muscles hardening to the point of
pain as he imagined her sex sheathing his cock. He twisted his fingers and a broken sob
filled the room. Her inner muscles clenched and she fell back against the wall, hands
curling into the waistband of his jeans to pull him closer.
 P-please, she breathed.
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Ann Bruce
He withdrew his fingers, brought them to her lips and traced the swollen flesh. Her
tongue flicked out, tasted herself, and he groaned. He kissed her, quickly and fiercely,
his fingers between their open mouths so he could taste her musk, slightly salty yet
incredibly sweet. Wanting more, he pulled back, gathered up the skirt of her dress to
her waist and ordered hoarsely,  Hold it.
She didn t move. He repeated the order and she released a shuddering breath,
finally understanding. She grabbed a fistful of her dress and he fell to his knees. He
yanked down her panties, heard fabric tearing, didn t care and tossed aside the scrap of
material. After wedging a shoulder between her thighs to open them wider, he inhaled
her female scent, groaned and gave her sex a long, deep lick. She stiffened then went
liquid with pleasure.
He stroked his tongue through the springy curls and over the intimate pleats,
drawing breathy moans from above him. Her hands fisted in his hair, silently
demanding more, and he obliged. He dipped his tongue in the opening of her body
then sealed his lips over the hard bud of her sex. He sucked it, flicked it with his tongue,
scraped it ever so gently with his teeth.
His body throbbed with increasing need for relief, but he continued licking and
sucking and thrusting. Her whimpers were louder now, wordless sounds of
desperation. He cupped her buttocks, spread the plump cheeks and skimmed his
fingers over the puckered ring of muscle.
Her body seized then she was crying out, shaking with intense vibrations.
Jay shot up, ripped open his fly, freed himself and was inside her with a single
powerful thrust.
Oh, fuck. She was hotter and wetter and tighter than he d imagined. Her inner
contractions nearly made his head explode. Her arms lashed around his neck as tightly
as her legs around his hips. He pulled out, pushed back inside, repeated the
movements, again and again, faster and faster until he was hammering between her
thighs.
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Hot, dark sensation ran through his loins and into his balls. Nails clawed at his back
through the barrier of his shirt. Teeth found his shoulder, bit down. And the world
exploded around him.
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Ann Bruce
Chapter Two
The trickle of hot, thick liquid along her inner thigh was impossible to ignore.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
A masculine chuckle rumbled up from the chest pressed to hers.  I could stay like
this all night, but you might be more comfortable in a bed.
Amie tried and nearly failed to stem the panic. She was on the verge of hysteria
and considered embracing it. Silent, because words were currently beyond her, she
pushed at the heavy shoulders. He pulled back and, despite the dimness of the room,
she felt his gaze travel over her, leaving heated skin in its wake.
 A little late for second thoughts, he said, tone soft.
Suddenly she felt very exposed, very vulnerable. She was still half-naked, still
pinned to the wall by a man who was a stranger in every other regard. This time, she
shoved at him with fisted hands.
 Talk to me.
A bubble of hysteria escaped as a short, uneven laugh.  What s there to talk about?
It was meaningless sex.
His tone grew softer.  You do this a lot?
 No. Never. She paused, skin hot.  Once.
And never again, she added to herself. Her mouth twisted. It wasn t like she d give
David a second chance to cheat on her and drive her to do something reckless.
The ensuing silence filled her with unease. Then he took a step backward, she
unwrapped her legs from around his hips and he untangled their bodies. The wet
sound as he withdrew generated a heated flush of embarrassment and a tingling of
fresh arousal, both of which made her grateful for the darkness.
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Rebound
She squeezed her thighs together and yanked her dress down. The damn thing
ended above her knees. She ran trembling palms down the fabric, attempting to smooth
out any wrinkles. At least it was black and if she moved swiftly enough, she could make
it back to her room without attracting attention.
A lamplight came on. She jerked her head away and shielded her eyes.
 Here, he said, voice low, and held out a white handkerchief.
She glanced at the proffered item and no higher. He came closer but when Amie
flinched, he halted. Without speaking, she accepted the handkerchief, turned her back
to him and made use of it. She heard the soft rustle of clothing and the sound of a
zipper and was struck by the intimacy of their situation. Her hands shook as she
combed her fingers through her hair and wiped under her eyes and around her lips to
remove any makeup smears. She found and scooped up the wristlet, felt for the cardkey
inside.
When she could delay it no longer, she turned back, his handkerchief balled in her
fist. She glanced at it and cleared her throat.  I-I ll buy you a replacement, she said.
 I ll leave it at the reception desk and you can pick it up there.
 Forget it, he bit off, the words little more than a growl.  I ll take you to your
room.
She inhaled sharply.  No. No, thank you. I m fine. She looked at the door, started
edging toward it.
 I m not going to attack you.
Guilt flooded her. She had been a willing participant.  I know.
 Then stop acting like you expect me to.
She stared at him, eyes wide. In the lamplight, he was no less imposing than he had
been in the dark. Perhaps even more so because now she could see those dark,
impenetrable eyes narrowed on her. He was disheveled, from his hair to his clothes.
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Ann Bruce
Her hands had done that, she thought. Breathing became laborious, as if the air had
thickened. Amie wrapped her arms around herself.
Suddenly he cursed, strode to the door and yanked it open. Muted sounds of
conversation, laughter and music wafted in from the hallway. She expected him to stalk
from the room but he waited, apparently intending to see her to her room whether she
wanted it or not.
She hurried through the doorway. They were at the end of a long corridor with
rooms on either side. The area was better lit than she hoped it would be.
 The stairs on the right, he said.  Th 
 Jason!
Amie froze, recognizing the voice. Heavy footsteps came toward them then they
were joined by a large, white-haired man, his face flushed and jovial from alcohol.
 Frank, she said weakly, facial muscles too stiff for a smile.
Her boss shook the hand of the man beside Amie then beamed at her.
 So you found her, Frank said to the man he called Jason.  Has she sold you on
our consulting services?
A cold sensation washed over her and a roaring filled her ears. Amie s world tilted,
as if the floor under her feet was undulating. A hand grasped her upper arm, steadying
her, but she jerked free, stumbled, yet still managed to keep from falling on her face.
Without a backward glance, she escaped across the corridor and up the stairs. She felt
the gazes, but no one came after her.
Slowly the roaring subsided and somehow, she found her room. A man waited for
her and, for an instant, her stomach clenched and the urge to flee was nearly
overwhelming.
But of course it was only David. She shoved aside the pang of disappointment, not
wanting to acknowledge it, let alone understand it. David spotted her.
 Amie 
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 Go away, David.
 Nothing happened, I swear.
He reached for her and she angled her body away from him.  You had your tongue
down her throat and your hands on her bare ass, she reminded him calmly. She
withdrew the cardkey and unlocked the door.  Something happened.
 She came on to me! She sought me out and wouldn t leave me alone.
A pause. Then she looked at him, waiting for the heat of anger. It didn t come.
There was only exhaustion and the need for solitude.  It doesn t matter.
 What was I supposed to do?
She shook her head, more disappointed in herself for wasting the last year on him
than in David for his stupidity.
His gaze swept her from head to toe then his eyes narrowed.  Who is he, Amie?
Annoyance pulled down a corner of her mouth.  You lost the right to ask that
question the moment you shoved your tongue down another woman s throat.
Anger sharpened his voice.  How long has it been going on?
Incredulous, she blinked at him.  Do not shift the blame onto me, she said, then
went inside her room and slammed the door shut. She leaned against it, half expecting
David to demand she open it. He didn t. She pushed away from the door and headed
toward the bathroom, undressing along the way.
Ten minutes later, she emerged from the shower, opened the bathroom door to
allow the steam to escape and dissipate and heard the knocking. David. Her lips
thinned. She pulled on the complimentary bathrobe but remained in the bathroom,
hoping David would go away.
More knocking, louder and harder this time. She tightened the belt of the bathrobe,
strode to the door and yanked it open.
 David, I said 
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The words died in her throat. It wasn t David. He stood there, scowling and filling
the doorway like he had a right to be there. Her pulse quickened.
 Let me in, Amie.
Hearing him say her name sent a tingle of sensation through her body. She didn t
ask how he knew it.  Why?
 Because you and I need to talk, and I don t think you want anyone to overhear our
conversation.
Her cheeks warmed. When he stepped into the room and moved past her, she
didn t protest. She closed the door slowly, taking the time to gather herself. With one
hand, she pulled together the edges of the oversized robe to cover her chest and neck
before facing him. He filled the space, making the spacious room feel confining.
 How did you find my room?
 Owning the hotel has its perks.
It took her several seconds to absorb his words.  Of course, she murmured. It
explained what she d witnessed in the lobby. She asked,  Why did you question Frank
about me? What did you ask Frank about me?
He caught her gaze, held it, and the heat blossomed over her chest.  You know
why. You feel it too. His voice lowered.  I haven t stopped thinking about you since
this morning.
The heat spread lower, and she noticed that he ignored her second question but
didn t care. Under the thick terrycloth, her skin was suddenly too sensitive, too warm.
She crossed the room, taking a wide path to the balcony. She pushed aside a drapery
panel, grabbed the door handle and was flooded with memories of what had happened
on another balcony. Her fingers uncurled one by one from around the handle.
 And from the way you were staring at me, he added,  I thought the feeling
would be mutual.
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She breathed in then exhaled slowly before turning around. He had moved to the
other side of the bed to be closer to her. His arms were folded across his chest and a
shoulder was propped against a bedpost.
 Look, she began,  what happened tonight was a mistake. I  She broke off,
considered her words.  Something happened, and I was angry and confused and not
thinking clearly.
 What happened?
She stilled. His tone was too mild, she thought and understanding struck.
Carefully, she lowered herself onto the divan in front of the window.  You already
know.
He didn t deny it.
 Were you spying on me? As soon as she asked the question, her brain connected
the remaining dots. It was absurd and ludicrous and true. She simply knew it. She
pinched the bridge of her nose, felt the frown form on her forehead.  Oh Jesus. Her
gaze lifted to his face, eyes narrowed.  You arranged it.
There was no guilt on his face.  If he loved you, he would ve resisted Sara.
 And does Sara  work for you? she asked, unable to suppress the sarcasm.
 No. She s a friend who did me a favor.
 A friend, she echoed.  Right.
He straightened away from the bedpost.  She is. Nothing more, he said, anger
clipping his words.
She pushed damp hair away from her face.  Why? Why like this? Why couldn t you
introduce yourself to me like a normal person?
 Patience isn t one of my virtues.
Anger closed her throat and she could feel renewed warmth travel up her neck and
into her cheeks. She forced herself to take a breath, release it.
 How did you know I would go there? On the balcony?
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 I didn t.
She weighed his words then she started to turn away.
 Wait, he growled, and reached for something from his back pocket. A smart
phone. He pressed a few buttons then held it out to her. Amie didn t move to take it.
How could she, with her stomach knotted so tightly and every muscle so stiff? His
expression darkened.  Take it.
She did, hand shaking, but she couldn t steady it. She looked down at the touch
screen, hair falling forward to veil her face. This time, she didn t push it back. She
started the video. It was one of the hotel s hallways. The elevator doors pinged and slid
open, revealing a couple. A blond man and a woman with unmistakable red hair. Amie
could hear her shallow breathing and held her breath. She knew who they were, of
course. They hurried off the car, looked about, then reached for each other s hands.
Holding the cardkey, the woman led. The man pulled her back and she let her body
crash into his as his mouth found hers. The woman broke off the kiss and pointed
toward a door. He let her go, following her closely enough to be her shadow, hands
already roving her body.
Amie stopped the video and took a long, slow breath.
 Look at the time stamp.
She didn t. There was no need.  His admin assistant. Her mouth curved in a
humorless smile and she added flatly,  How cliché. And how stupid she d been. And
how clueless. Too clueless to recognize the tone underneath the surprise in David s
voice when she d called him this morning; too clueless to question him when he d
suggested she get her own room. After all, they hadn t gone public with their
relationship. That would only complicate their work lives& in addition to his busy sex
life.
She looked up, but not at the man in her room. She couldn t yet, couldn t bear to see
the pity on his face. His phone dangled from her fingers, suddenly too heavy. He took it
from her and she curled her fingers, the tips of her short nails digging into her palm.
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 Why the elaborate act? she asked finally.  Why not show me this video at the
beginning?
He lifted a brow.  You d have shot the messenger.
Her mouth tightened but she didn t deny his statement.  Why not let things play
out? David would ve slipped up eventually. Or dumped her.
 Like I said, patience isn t one of my virtues. And I didn t know about your
relationship with the redhead. She might ve been your friend. Some women feel more
betrayed by their friends than by their lovers.
She slanted him a look.  Do this a lot, do you?
He met her gaze, his own steady.  No.
Oh God. She swallowed, felt his gaze drop to her throat and tried not to shiver.  You
don t even know me. The only things I know about you are that you know my boss and
he calls you Jason.
 Friends call me Jay.
 We re not at that stage.
The faint smile on his lips confused and worried her, and more. Her stomach did a
little dive. He closed the distance between them. Amie stiffened, knowing the smart
thing would be to run. She didn t.
 You re right, he said.  We re beyond that stage.
 That s not what I said.
He dropped to his haunches before her. She held her breath as he lifted a hand to
her throat, stroked it with the backs of his fingers. Tingling sensations rippled over her
skin, and this time she couldn t suppress the shiver. She snatched his fingers and he
entwined them with hers. His were long and calloused, not those belonging to someone
who sat behind a desk all day. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed a knuckle,
scraped it gently with his teeth, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning.
 Do you truly regret what happened?
21
Ann Bruce
When she didn t respond, he repeated the question then dipped the tip of his
tongue between her fingers. Her lashes fluttered and she shook her head.  But it was
wrong.
 Why? Did you love him?
She closed her eyes and said quietly,  I wanted to.
 But you didn t.
Another shake of her head. As if he were rewarding her for the answer, he sucked
one of her fingers into his mouth. His mouth was wet, his tongue rough, and muscles
low in her body clenched.
 He cheated on you. That made you fair game.
She blinked slowly, bringing the world back into focus. It took effort for her to form
words, let alone a coherent sentence.  There& there was nothing fair about what you
did.
 He was wrong for you. I knew it the moment I saw you with him.
She felt a little thrill and let herself savor it.  And someone as manipulative as you
is right for me?
 Yes, he growled.
Almost hesitant, she murmured,  Rebound sex.
 It s a start, he said, and tugged on her hand.
Closing her eyes, she let herself fall into him.
22
About the Author
Ann Bruce is the pseudonym for a self-professed computer geek who, in between
snowboarding, reading comic books and wearing out the buttons of her PS3 controller,
writes because it s an acceptable means of explaining all the voices in her head.
Ann welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address
on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Tell Us What You Think
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[e-mail].
Also by Ann Bruce
A Naughty Noelle
Before Dawn
Dark Side of Dreaming
Rules of Engagement
Discover for yourself why readers can t get enough of the multiple award-winning
publisher Ellora s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC
on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you
breathless.
www.ellorascave.com