IOU Sex Read Online Free

close to me, I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. He smelled of expensive Scotch, the cologne I loved and pure male heat. An intoxicating combination that made my mind reel and my pussy ache.
    His lips brushed over mine. A whisper of a kiss. A hint of wicked things to come. It made my stomach flip and my pulse race. My eyelids suddenly felt heavy and lowered slightly of their own accord.
    “Michael,” I said on a soft, shallow breath.
    “Yes, Fiona?” His low tone matched mine.
    The fire snapped and popped like my insides. The sizzling sensation between my legs was almost unbearable. I knew he could provide the relief I needed, and I found myself wanting to ask him to do just that. Hell, I was almost ready to beg for it. The words were there, on the tip of my tongue.
    As he leaned forward that last inch, so that my breasts pressed to his hard chest, I was nearly a goner. The arm along the back of the sofa now draped over my shoulder, holding me to him. His other hand rested on my bare thigh, right at the hem of my short skirt.
    “You make me hard,” he said, filling the silence I’d left because my train of thought had derailed. “Just by looking at you and thinking about all the things I want to do to you.”
    I swallowed down a moan. How easily he swept me away. When his lips grazed mine again, my eyelids made their final descent, closing as my mouth opened. His tongue delved deep to tangle with mine. I reached a hand up and twined my fingers through his thick, silky hair. My other hand slid around to his back.
    I let him kiss me the way he had the first night we’d gotten together. It was hot and demanding. A purposeful kiss that conveyed how much he wanted me. Impossible to miss.
    When I finally dragged my mouth away, he groaned.
    “I want to be inside you,” he said as he dropped featherlight kisses along my neck.
    My fingers were still in his hair, my breasts still pressed to his chest. My head fell back as he continued to tease the skin on my throat with his lips and tongue.
    I let out a sigh. One of want and need. One of obvious frustration.
    Oh, if only I could say to hell with my good girl ways and be bad with him. Right now. For one night. But I knew that come morning, I’d regret having to leave his bed. I’d want more. I always did when it came to him. Thankfully, he’d given me quite a lot when we’d gotten together in the past. He’d wanted me night after night.
    By the third week, I’d realized I’d held his attention longer than any other woman I’d known of, and that’s when the panic had set in. I’d instantly started to doubt my ability to keep him satisfied much longer and had begun obsessing over when, exactly, he’d start cheating on me. I’d had to end it before he did, or before he slipped. My fragile ego—thanks to The Lying, Cheating Bastard and my sister—couldn’t take another beating.
    These memories were like throwing water on a fire. I moved away from Michael. Unfolded my legs and stood. I grabbed my glass and took several sips of wine as I put both physical and emotional distance between us.
    He scowled at me. “Running away? Really, babe?”
    “Yes. And maybe you shouldn’t call me that. We’re just friends.”
    “Are we?” he challenged. A legitimate question, but one I didn’t dwell on.
    “Yes. Go be bad with someone else. My heart can’t take it.”
    His scowl vanished. “You know I’d never hurt you.”
    “Not on purpose, no. But let’s face it, you’re…into women. A lot of them. Whereas I’m…in need of focusing on my career. Building my business.”
    A hollow laugh from him told me what a crock he thought that excuse was. An easy scapegoat I’d created for myself. “You’re terrified to date. I get that.”
    “We’re not talking about dating. We’re talking about sex. And I just can’t have it one time with you and not feel used.”
    He stood as well and pushed a hand through his hair in apparent frustration. “You’re the one who