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“Yes, she is.”

A part of Kyra liked that he admitted it. He didn't call the ex names or play the hate game. Still, it wouldn't hurt the woman to be a little less attractive.

“And I notice you don't get angry when she walks in and out of your office. Apparently that nasty reaction is saved for me, your sex secret.” That one stung. She needed prior approval and Lena waltzed in and out without Bast raising his voice.

“I apologized for that outburst.”

In his mind that likely meant the issue was over. She loved how men compartmentalized. “True . . . I guess.”

Bast exhaled as if the conversation bored him and he wanted it over. “We owned some rental properties. One just sold.”

That sounded a tad too cozy. “Haven't you been divorced for a few years?”

“Yes.” His chair made a creaking noise as he sat forward and folded his hands on the desk in front of him.

“But you own property together.”

“The market wasn't great. Rather than lose money, we held on to some.”

That felt like legalese to Kyra. Like he was using half words or something. “Whatever she brought has to do with one?”

“The last one.”

“Now tell me what you're not saying.”

His eyebrows lifted. Both of them. “Excuse me?”

“When your words get clipped and your answers get short, I know you're telling only part of a story.”

“You can tell that after we've been seeing each other for less than a week?”

Interesting how he slipped in the shot without taking a breath. He also conveniently left out their history before. “We've known each other for a lot longer. Your legal speak is legendary. Now, stop stalling.”

“She wanted her money out of the property, we're doing that.”

“Really? Because you seemed surprised she signed the deed.” Kyra might not have a law degree but she knew shock when she heard it. She also knew him well enough to pick up the inflection in his voice.

“She needed money, so I paid her for her interest in the property.”

“Without making her sign it over to you.” The puzzle pieces fell together. He tried to make it all sound like a normal transaction, but Kyra knew this was something else. Lena came with her hand out and he gave her money. “That says something about the type of man you are.”

“A sucker?”

“Since the woman wrote a book that tanked your dating reputation, I would think you'd be on less friendly terms.” Kyra expected anger or at least frustration. Instead, she got comfortable friendship. Well, from his side. Lena's side still had a flashing
I Want You
sign on.

“The split was amicable.”

Kyra wondered if he'd ever searched for his name on the Internet because, wow. “How can you say that?”

“I lived through it.”

“She wrote a book—”

“Two.” He held up the fingers to emphasize the point.

Kyra slumped back in her chair. “Is this a guilt thing?”

“No.”

“You're sure?”

“Look, I don't talk about this—ever—but the reality is I changed the rules.” The comment hung there. Bast dropped it then stayed quiet. It took almost two minutes of silence for him to keep going. “The threesome thing, that was part of our marriage from the second year on. She wanted to try it, I was game. It grew into something bigger, took over our entire sex life, and I pulled the plug, but I was the one who changed.”

It sounded to Kyra like they both had. Bast soaked up all the blame and apparently Lena let him. Their dynamic was a mess.

“Aren't you allowed to change in a relationship?” Kyra asked.

“She was my neighbor growing up. We knew each other before I got shipped off to boarding school. She was a lifeline when my mom died.”

A case of puppy love morphing into lifetime love, or that had been the plan. Again, jealousy kicked Kyra. Not hard but enough to start a gnawing in her belly. The woman she just met shared a life with Bast. No woman since then had done so.

That made Kyra wonder. “You still love her.”

“Not how you think.” He blew out a breath as he struggled to say the words. “I love her and will always love her in a nostalgic type of way. I am not
in love
with her. I haven't been for a very long time.”

That all sounded healthy on his part, but it overlooked one key fact. “She would take you back in a second.”

“My tastes have changed.”

Kyra noticed Bast didn't deny it. He clearly read the body language, all the signs Lena threw out there. Read and discounted.

Hope sparked back to life inside Kyra. “What do you want now?”

“A younger blonde with amazing legs and a mouth that drives me insane.”

The man could sweet talk almost as well as he could dirty talk. “I do like to kiss.”

He crooked a finger at her. “Then come over here and do it. Then you need to get out of here so I can work.”

“How could I say no to that proposal?”

Warmth filled his eyes again. “I like it when you say yes.”

She really worried she'd never be able to say no to this man.

•   •   •

Elijah waited until almost five to move his bags into Bast's basement apartment on Saturday. All two of them. It took exactly five seconds to drop them on the kitchen table and look around.

Despite being half underground, the space was bright. It consisted of a small kitchen, a family room and a bedroom in the back. It didn't come close to Wade's place but it was still better than every other place Eli had ever lived.

Even while in the CIA, Eli kept his expenses low and stockpiled his cash. That meant living in a series of studio apartments. Since he'd never been in a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks—other than Wade—there was no reason for space.

“Here you go.” Bast slipped a set of keys off his chain. “Unless you have any questions about parking or security codes, I'll be—”

“How long have you been sleeping with Wade's sister?”

Bast's body snapped straight. “What?”

Eli had held the question, waiting for the right time. From Bast's open mouth and unusual silence, Eli knew he'd picked correctly.

“The two of you. Sex.” When Bast continued to stare Eli realized he'd stumbled into the middle of something. “What, is it a secret?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Oh. Huh, I didn't get that.” Because what the hell else did you say when you confronted your boss about having sex with your ex's baby sister.

“How in the world did you figure it out?”

There was no way Bast couldn't know. He was a smart guy . . . and he looked like he'd been hit by a bus. Eli guessed it was willful blindness or something. “Really?”

“Yes.” Bast didn't lose it often but looked right on the verge. “Did she say something? Did you overhear a conversation?”

Elijah had a feeling this part was not going to go over well. “You have a tell.”

“Excuse me?”

“You get a look when a woman comes into the room and you've had sex with her.” The dumb smile was pathetic really, but Elijah kept seeing it. Connecting the dots wasn't all that hard. He'd been trained for harder stuff than Bast's clandestine sex life.

But Bast was too busy shaking his head to listen. “That's not true.”

Eli decided to tick the list off on his fingers. “The list includes your ex—”

“Well, that's obvious.”

“—Natalie and Kyra.” The middle name still had Eli wanting to choke up bile. “Not that female attorney from yesterday who would clearly like to climb all over you, or your partner's assistant, who would stand in line as well.”

If possible, Bast's mouth dropped open even farther. Much more of this and his jaw would be on the floor. “Are you kidding me with this?”

“Imagine how I felt when I realized Natalie was on your list of sex partners.” A shiver of revulsion moved through Elijah. “I mean, really?”

“She's blond and pretty and that Southern accent . . .”

“Please don't.” Even if Eli was into chicks that would never happen. “No way do I want to know more.”

“It took place after we negotiated your deal and before she was a client.”

Elijah figured that covered the ethical angles. Bast would know better than Eli would. “I'm not judging.”

“Yeah, you are.”

About the sex part he kind of was. “I am because Natalie was my boss and . . . damn, man. She could be shitty.”

Bast sat down hard on a kitchen chair. “I'm a bit more disturbed that you can tell about Kyra.”

“No offense but it's obvious.”

Bast rubbed a hand over his forehead. “You're not making this moment easier on me.”

“Just saying the truth.” And one that didn't take a genius to see. “You get this stupid grin.”

“That's just fucking fantastic.”

Elijah wouldn't go that far. “But the Kyra thing?”

“Yeah, I know.” Bast held up a hand. “Wade's going to kill me.”

That wasn't quite what Eli was going to say. Wade would hate any man who touched his baby sister, but Bast was a better pick than most. “Only if you keep hiding it.”

Bast looked up. “You think he'd be able to handle the idea of his baby sister having sex?”

“With you? No. With any other guy? Not that either.” Okay, maybe Wade wouldn't take any scenario all that well. “But it seems to me he does better with the facts than he does with people trying to hide things from him.”

“You're talking from experience?”

It seemed to Eli that someone should learn from his missteps. “I'm suggesting trying to keep Kyra a secret is a mistake.”

“It's about privacy.”

Yeah, Elijah wasn't so sure. “Is it?”

“Of course.”

Eli grew less sure hearing the confusion in Bast's voice. “I guess you know what you're doing.”

Bast exhaled. “I'm starting to wonder.”

Kyra made it until Sunday night before insisting she try the whirlpool tub. The thing took up an entire corner of Bast's spacious marble bathroom. Getting in it had proved daunting. Something about stripping down and walking around with all the shiny white surfaces and oversized mirrors everywhere made a woman a tad self-conscious about her ass . . . and every other part of her that might be jiggling.

But that was ten minutes ago. Now she laid with her back against Bast's naked chest and ran her toes under the water cascading out of the silver tray at the opposite end of the tub. This was no simple spigot. It was flat and fancy, like everything else in this house, and the water ran down and into the steady bubbling like a sexy little fountain.

The bath gel smelled like the beach and despite being all stone the room stayed warm and cozy from the combination of steam, heated floors and hot male behind her. The same male who had his arms around her as he spent valuable minutes exploring her breasts. He massaged them then pinched the tips.

His erection pushed against her and his legs cocooned her around the hips. She felt precious and sensuous and so at home. This level of luxury—any luxury, really—was beyond her realm of understanding, but Bast handed it to her like she deserved it. He brought her into his house and seemed to revel in her enjoyment and wide-eyed wonder.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “This is the best invention ever.”

“Thought you'd like the tub.”

She relaxed into his body and enjoyed the move of his hands over her skin. “So relaxing.”

“Happy to hear it but I'm not sure I want you going to sleep.”

Her eyes popped open. “You did say something about a sprayer. We might want to get to that soon.”

“Always so impatient when it comes to pleasure.”

She held up her hand and turned it around, studying the bumps and dimples. “My fingers are all shriveled.”

“Want to get out?”

A soft melody played in the background. She looked up and realized the small television over the tub had been set to a music station. Another unnecessary toy she could really grow to appreciate.

“Don't be ridiculous. Why would I want to move?”

“You do enjoy getting all wet and soapy.” His hands disappeared under the water again.

“As much as you enjoy massaging my . . . oh, now it's my thighs.”

Pushing her knees open, his palms trailed over the tops of her legs and up to her stomach, then back down again. “You were very dirty.”

Lethargy had set in but at the rub of his hands every nerve ending in her body jumped to life. He'd taken her in the shower on Saturday. Right there with her palms flattened against the wall.

Looked like it was time to christen the rest of the room. “One of us is.”

He chuckled, in a sound so rich and warm. “Admit it, you love that about me.”

The word skidded across her senses. For him this was about sex. For her it had always centered on more and it kept growing. She'd been attracted to men before. Dated them. Slept with them. Connected with them on some level. But this was the first time her mind and body dove into a freefall over a guy.

“What I know is you're never going to get me in that fancy shower again now that I've tried the whirlpool, which is a shame because that thing is magical.” She stared at the glass door and shower instrument panel that looked more confusing than panels for industrial machinery. “Who has jets coming out of the wall, and dripping like rainfall from the ceiling?”

“A man who likes a good pounding.”

She curled her arm over her shoulder and around his neck. “Consider yourself lucky I'm going to have sex with you despite that lame line.”

“Very soon.” He leaned in and kissed her, lingering and deepening as a hand brushed over her stomach. “But first you need to try the sprayer.”

He bent forward, taking her with him, and grabbed the silver sprayer. The hose made a clinking sound as he pulled it forward.

“You've been promising for a week now.” With a press of a button, warm jets of water pelted her skin. “Oh, that's nice.”

He ran it over her knee where it stuck up out of the water. “Oh, I think we can do better than nice.”

Before she could catch her breath, he lifted his body and brought hers to the surface. Her lower body broke the water line as he positioned her feet on the edge of the tub. Being exposed to the bathroom's cooler air chilled her skin.

“I don't . . .” Then the spray hit the sensitive skin at the top of her thighs. “Sweet mercy.”

“Just relax.” With one hand he opened her legs wide and with the other he aimed the sprayer against her, trailing along the outside, never dipping in.

The drumming sensation against her had her squirming. Heat pounded through her even as goose bumps spread over her skin. She wanted to get closer and pull him inside her. “I can't stand it.”

“Press your back harder against my chest.”

The shift had her hips lifting higher. Closer to the force of the spray. “Sebastian . . . oh my God.”

“Right there.” He outlined her. Brought the spray closer then pulled back and again. “Not in.”

“Why?”

“This is better for you.”

She had no idea what that meant but her skin was too busy tingling for her to care. “Yes.”

“You like that.” He whispered the words by her ear.

Each syllable vibrated through her until her entire body trembled. “Forget the shower. The sprayer is magic.”

Her chest heaved and she grabbed onto his forearms for leverage. Even sitting down, the room started to spin. Her body kept clenching and her hips moved without direction from her brain.

With the gentlest of touches, his lips brushed over her temple. “Don't fight it.”

“I can't stop moving.” It wasn't an exaggeration. Her nerves jumped and her muscles twitched. She felt frayed and right on the edge, begging to be tumbled over.

“I'll anchor you.”

“No, I want . . .” He drew the spray right over her, then went back to the outside, rimming her opening. “Do that again.”

“Ready?” A finger slid inside her.

The pressure. The pulse of the spray. “No.”

“You can take it.”

“I'm going to lose it.” Her lower body ached from the need to release. She clamped down on his finger and tried to pull him in deeper. To find release.

“And I get to watch.” He swore under his breath. “I love watching you come.”

Her fingernails dug into his skin. “You're next.”

“Maybe we'll just do this again and again.” He moved the spray around, touching the top of her thighs and washing over the finger inside her.

Sensations bombarded her until it all became too much. She ground her head into his shoulder and raised her hips. “I'm going to pass out.”

“I'd rather see you come.”

As if hearing it gave her permission, her body let go. Energy raced through her, stealing her breath and snapping her muscles until they strained. “Yes.”

“Now.”

Then she came. Hard and loud. Water splashed over the sides of the tub and her body bucked against his. Her mind went blank but she felt his hands sliding over her, his fingers inside her. She surrendered to the rush as the breaths pumped hard through her body. Then she sank down and let him catch her.

•   •   •

More than an hour later, dry and tucked into his king-sized bed, Bast wrapped an arm around Kyra's shoulders as she snuggled naked into his side. Every muscle in his body screamed for a few hours of sleep. From the whirlpool to the mat in the middle of the bathroom floor to bending her over the end of the bed, the last hour had been a blur of unbelievable sex. Busy, heart-stopping and draining.

Totally exhilarating.

For a man who'd experienced a lot of good sex in his time, the last week shot off the charts. There was something about her that went beyond how incredible she looked in and out of clothes. She had all the trappings any sane man would find attractive—a sleek body, long blond hair and a face that lit up when she smiled. She was beautiful by any objective scale.

But he'd had pretty before. He'd enjoyed a steady diet of two women at a time when Lena hit her want-to-try-females stride at full speed. Women who knew the score. At first, the novelty worked for him. He had a good time and made sure the women did, too. Then the boredom with a lifestyle he didn't want on a permanent basis sunk in.

He'd spent the majority of his marriage craving quiet and couple time. The normal time discussing the day and gossiping about friends and family like married people did. Having dinner. Whispering in the dark in bed.

He'd mourned for the marriage he thought he'd have and ended the one he did.

Through it all, he appreciated women of all types and sizes. Smart women, funny women, pretty women. He'd been lucky to know many of each. Kyra combined and covered every category. She appeared more repelled than excited by his wealth, she exhausted him in bed, excited him in conversation. The part where she refused to back down when she wanted something drove him wild.

That all those exciting, amazing parts came wrapped in a twenty-something package still stunned him. From the second after she made that pass in the club he knew they'd be together. But not like this. He'd expected good sex and some awkward after-the-deed conversation, followed by a brief discussion about moving on. He got a woman he wanted to keep close.

The need for her blindsided him. Shook him and had him stumbling.

Her hand swept over his chest and stopped on his stomach. “You're lucky I didn't drown in there.”

So much for thinking he wore her out and sent her into a deep sleep. “You believe I would have let you slip under the water?”

She squeezed his biceps. “Nah, you're pretty strong for an old guy.”

“Oh, that's nice.”

“You hadn't mentioned our age difference in days, so I thought I'd remind you.”

She had the power to disarm him. Throw him right off balance. “I'm managing to keep up.”

“Please, your stamina matches mine in the sex department.” When the quiet stretched, she stopped skimming her hand over his stomach and looked up at him. “What?”

“With my history, that's not the kind of thing I hear very often.” People tended to whisper behind his back but not talk straight on with him about sex. But Kyra discounted his history, except to the extent she insisted the multiple partner part be over. “Honestly, women usually avoid the topic.”

“It's not a secret.”

“Very true.” His mind went to Lena and his frustration over her decision to drag their private life into the open.

He pushed the thoughts away as soon as they came because thinking about your ex while in bed with another woman, even in a nonsexual way, struck him as pretty sick.

“Your background is part of you, so why ignore it.” Kyra's intense gaze locked with his. “You never ask about my dating past before you or judge . . . or do you do that silently?”

“I don't.” Except to be happy that whatever and whoever came before him gave her such a healthy attitude toward liking sex.

“Well, then it seems to me I should be grateful you had all that practice and got so good at it before I came along. I'd hate to break in a novice.” She sounded so serious but a bit of mischief twinkled in her eye.

He had to laugh. “Glad to know you're satisfied.”

“That's not up for debate.” She traced a finger over his lips. “But I'm thinking your reputation is overblown.”

Typical of Kyra, he expected her to say one thing and she said another. “Is it now?”

“You've been with all these women—”

“Maybe we should find a new topic.” They hadn't hit a snag. He didn't see a reason to find one.

“That's interesting.” Her foot traveled up his bare calf. “Does it make you uncomfortable that we're talking about this?”

The combination of her hand low on his stomach and her thigh sliding over his made his concentration slip. “Doesn't it upset you?”

“No, and that's my point.”

“You're going to have to use more words because I'm lost.” And he was ten seconds away from rolling her under him and spreading those amazing legs nice and wide. Talking would consist of grunts and begging after that.

“Tell me the truth.” She shifted, moving her body up higher on his. The sheet around her tugged loose and she flashed him a healthy view of her breasts. “Is it possible, maybe just a little, that you hide behind your reputation to keep from getting seriously involved with another woman.”

Thoughts of breasts and sex blinked out of his mind. A strange ball formed in his stomach. One that felt a bit like anxiety, which made no sense since little made him nervous.

Refusing to give in to the odd reaction, he moved his arm under his neck and lifted his head to get a better look at her. “How did you come up with that?”

“I know about the threesomes. Hell, everyone does.”

One day he'd forgive Lena for making it so that every fucking non-work conversation in his life came back to this topic. But not today. “People know what they've read and assume the rest.”

Kyra smiled. “Well, counselor, did they happen?”

“Yes.”

“Throughout your marriage?”

That was enough past-relationship sharing. “Your point is?”

“Except for me, you attract a certain type of woman now. Ones who want a thrill or to take a turn.” Her head tilted to the side as she ran the back of her fingers over his cheek and down to his chin. “Just seems to me that's easier for you.”

His jaw clenched and he had to exhale to keep from letting the anger spinning inside him seep into his voice. Not anger at her, but at the reoccurring sensation of being viewed through one lens. “I'm not a circus sideshow.”