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he’d never broken that rule, as hot as
it might have been. He wondered if she’d had Bradley Palmer do the
same things they’d described to each other back then. Her
carelessness and lack of regard pissed him off. Odd as it sounded,
when she fucked other men, it was for the two of them. While she
was out, he imagined what she was doing. And she was supposed to be
thinking about him, about how he’d be on her the minute she was
inside, wanting to hear everything while he fucked her. When she
lied, the sex became about her , not them . If she
didn’t know that already, he couldn’t explain.
    So he attacked on a level she could
understand. “He’s a risk, Ruby. He can spread gossip.” Bradley
would brag.
    “Oh, honey, no one’s going to believe
him.”
    Actually, they would. Ruby didn’t have the
purist of reputations. After all, she’d worked at West Coast for
almost a year before they began their affair, and she’d gotten
around. “You don’t fuck other men at work, Ruby. No ifs, ands, or
buts.”
    “Spoilsport,” she muttered.
    He had to hand it to her. It didn’t bother
her that she’d been caught. But wasn’t that why he’d made things
more permanent with her, bringing her home? Because she was wild.
Because she did all the things he’d dreamed of having a woman do
for him. Because she’d fuck anyone, anywhere, anytime, and rush
home to tell him about it. He’d gotten everything he’d wanted.
    Be careful what you ask for.
    The problem was he couldn’t control her.
Because of that, he’d laid down only three rules. No sex with
anyone from or at work, never bring the guy home, and tell your
boyfriend every dirty detail about what you did.
    She’d broken the first and the last rule. How
long before she broke the second? Maybe she’d already had another
man in their bed.
    “Dump him.”
    She moued. “It was silly, Clay. I’m sorry. He
came on to me, and you and I had already planned my date, and I was
so horny, I just did it without thinking it through.” Then she
fluttered her eyelashes at him. “How can I make it up to you?”
    He didn’t believe her. This wasn’t the first
time. And he doubted who came on to whom.
    “I don’t know, Ruby.” He didn’t play
games—not head games at any rate—but the truth was more
complicated. Something had shifted in him when Jessica asked how he
could let Ruby humiliate him.
    She raised her brow, a sexy little come-on
that usually got him going. “How about one of my special blow
jobs?” Then she winked. “Out in the backyard so the neighbor kid
can watch.”
    She loved exhibitionism. The so-called
neighbor kid was actually twenty-five years old and worked in a
pizza parlor because, as a college history major, he couldn’t find
a job.
    She was the same woman she’d been on
Wednesday. And on Tuesday. And yet something had changed. “No,
Ruby.”
    “But honey.” For the first time, worry crept
into her voice. But Ruby was never down and out. She smiled, then
rose sinuously from her chair, sauntered to the side of his chair,
her hips swaying with each step, and put her hands behind her back.
“I know what we can do,” she said, her red lips curved in a sly
smile. “How about a little role reversal?”
    He didn’t say anything.
    Which forced her to go on. “You go on a date,
then come back home and torture me with all the details.”
    That was new. Ruby loved having sex with
other men, but she wasn’t interested in sharing him with anyone.
She claimed she wouldn’t feel special anymore. Their needs were in
perfect sync. He didn’t want other women; he needed a woman who
made him crazy with her salacious tales.
    So why was she offering this now? He didn’t
have a clue what her real motive could be. The only way to find out
was to take her up on the offer.
    He let silence hang in the kitchen five beats
longer than necessary, until her smile had drooped fractionally.
“That’s a very good idea. We’ll put the shoe on the