In Bed with Mr. Wrong
Katee Robert
Copyright © 2014 by Katee Robert. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
“Why did I let you convince me to do this?” Brianne Nave grabbed the shirt she’d discarded two minutes ago and held it up to her body as she looked in the mirror. It was the same plain pink shirt it’d been the first time she considered it.
Her best friend, Avery, laughed on the other end of the phone line. “Because you’re the best friend a girl can have?”
Which was the same argument she and their other best friend, Drew, had used to convince Bri to agree to this blind date in the first place. Drew’s brother was back in town for a few weeks on leave, and they were worried he’d spend the whole time holed up doing…whatever it was they thought he’d do. They hadn’t exactly been clear on that.
She threw the shirt back on the bed and started to reach for the other shirt she’d considered, only to realize it was also pink. She’d been waffling between two nearly identical shirts for the last fifteen minutes. “I can’t do this.”
“Sure you can.”
“Avery, I haven’t been on a date in…” God, she couldn’t remember the last time. Maybe once in college?
“That’s exactly why you need this. There was never a better time to get back on that horse—or a better guy. Ryan’s a total sweetie.”
She knew that. She knew all about him. Drew and Avery had said nothing but good things about Ryan since she met them a little over a year ago. He was a real-life hero, to hear them tell of it. A god among men. Throw in a brother as attractive as Drew, and she wasn’t worried about him being a dud.
No, she was worried about him thinking she was a dud.
Hating the insecurity trying to take root in her stomach, she walked to Mr. Smith’s fish tank and dropped in a few flakes of the fish food he liked so much. I’ll only be gone a few hours. Not nearly long enough for him to get lonely. “But—”
“It’s too late to worry about it now. He’s already on his way. So just take a deep breath, let go of whatever neurosis is circling that busy brain of yours, and have a good time.”
Easier said than done. “He’s leaving in two weeks.” She dropped onto her mattress and reached for her boots. They were cute, not sexy, but she’d rather sacrifice a little style than end the night in an ER because she slipped on ice.
Besides, she didn’t exactly own any shoes that could be considered sexy.
“You have to start somewhere. It’s not like he’s flying to the moon. Long-distance relationships work all the time.”
“You sound like you’re already planning the wedding.” Avery did that, though. She skipped adding two plus two and jumped straight to four. Drew, the town’s sheriff and most eligible bachelor, wasn’t much better.
“There can’t be a wedding at all unless you actually go on a date.” She knew exactly what to say to cut right through Bri’s arguments. Because Bri wanted that life—the husband, the kids, the white picket fence, the roots—on a foundational level. She’d just never been courageous enough to take that first step.
Hadn’t her childhood taught her better than to expect permanence? Nothing was ever concrete. Life took people away—forever, in the case of her parents. She’d gone through three foster homes before she finally landed in one that stuck, and while she’d never been abused, there never seemed to be enough food to go around, never enough clothes to keep warm, always bigger kids who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if she didn’t hand over whatever it was they wanted at the time.
Back then, it was convenient to think that someday a Prince Charming would come along and they’d live happily ever after, but she’d learned a long time ago that fairytales only existed in books.
A rumble of an engine had her rushing through her small house to the front window to peer through the sheer curtains. An SUV stood at the end of her walkway and the man getting out of the driver’s seat could only be described as perfect. And women thought Drew was handsome? “Oh my God, Avery, you didn’t tell me he was gorgeous.”
“Don’t be gross. Ryan’s like a brother to me.”
She took in his square jaw and short dark hair and—oh Lord—those shoulders. He looked like Clark Kent without the glasses… “You set me up with Superman.”
“I’m not hearing this.”
“He’s here early. Who shows up for a blind date early?” Bri looked down at her boring maxi skirt and sensible boots. She should have dressed in something racier, something that would make a man like that stand up and take notice. As it was, she’d be lucky if he didn’t ask to have pizza delivered to avoid being seen with her at any of the restaurants in town.
Unfortunately, she’d probably already killed the ability to do “racier.” She shot a guilty look at the empty Oreo package visible through the doorway to the kitchen. When her neighbor Marcy’s cat had gone missing, she’d invited the poor woman over to comfort her. She’d been so busy chatting, she’d eaten half the package herself.
Maybe there was still time to change.
“He’s a solider. They take that punctual stuff pretty seriously.”
He was already halfway up the walk—and answering the door in her bra might be racy, but it wasn’t the kind of racy she wanted to aim for. She hurried into her bedroom and threw on the closest pink shirt. “Hair up or down?” Surely there was a hair band in this room somewhere?
“You’re stressing yourself out. I can hear it.”
“I have to go.” For better or worse, she had to open the door when he knocked. Bri moved back into the living room, shuffling to the window, needing another look at him. He was just as gorgeous now as he’d been the first time. Crap.
“Relax and have fun! I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She hung up her phone and realized she was sitting here, staring out the window, like some kind of freak. Bri dropped the curtain and backed up so quickly, she almost tripped over her end table.
Oh God, this is going to be a disaster.
At least he hadn’t seen her watching him. She hoped. Even knowing he was a few steps away from the door, she still jumped when he pounded on it. “You can do this. It’s just one date. It doesn’t matter if he’s gorgeous. He’s a nice guy.” Taking a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to fortify her, she opened the door.
Drew’s brother really did look like Superman. He had that amazing almost-too-perfect-to-be-real face going for him, and his eyes were the clear blue of a winter’s day—far better than her murky-ocean color. He towered over her, the sheer size difference making her wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in his arms.
She realized she was drinking him in like a cool glass of water on a summer’s day. He, however, didn’t seem to be feeling the same overwhelming awe she was. He had an odd look on his face, as if he didn’t know what to make of her.
Her stomach tied itself in knots as the truth hit her like a bucket of icy water. She’d seen the very same expression on the faces of her first foster parents. They’d tried to tough it out, but their determination only lasted six months. That he might be judging her just as quickly hurt more than she dared admit.
“Ryan.” He held out his hand, apparently deciding that shaking was better than…whatever the alternative on dates was. A kiss on the cheek? A hug?
She took his hand, wishing she didn’t notice how warm it was despite their breath ghosting across the air between them. “Bri.”
“Nice to meet you.” He didn’t smile, just continued looking at her with that odd look on his face.
“You, too.” God, she must really not be what he’d expected. Had Drew painted him a picture of a sexy librarian, complete with pencil skirt and thigh-high stockings? Even on her best day, she couldn’t measure up to those kinds of expectations.
Maybe it was best she didn’t know what he’d told Ryan.
She swallowed hard, hating the way her throat had tightened. “I just need to grab my purse.” And try to convince herself that she could do this. A minute alone to shore up the barriers she’d built to protect herself would have to be enough. It’s just a favor to your friends, she reminded herself while ducking into her living room. When the night is over, I’ll never have to see him again.
Ryan cleared his throat behind her. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve gotten this off to the wrong start.”
Here it comes. “What do you have to be sorry for? It’s obvious you were expecting something else.” She wasn’t even close to being in this man’s league, and they both knew it.
“Not so fast—you’re jumping to conclusions.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He wasn’t, though, and all her childhood defense mechanisms rose to the surface, demanding she lash out before he could hurt her further. She faced him, forced herself to smile, and went for the one thing that might level the playing field. The only black mark on his stellar record. “Let’s get something straight, okay? This is just dinner. I have no intention of embarking on any kind of building-burning—or burning of any kind—with you.”
His mouth went tight. “I see the Wellingford gossip mill is still running in full force.”
She blinked. Okay, so it might have been a low blow, but all she’d meant was to poke at him a bit. The venom in his voice wasn’t on par with her comment. Did he hate this town or something? “Um…it’s not every day someone burns down the high school on graduation day.”
“It was ten years ago. They need to move on. Then again, nothing worth talking about ever happens here.” He stepped back. “Maybe this was a mistake. Why don’t I just take off and we’ll forget this ever happened?”
Was he implying a date with her wouldn’t be worth talking about, either? Bri may not be like whatever kind of woman he usually spent time around, but she wasn’t chopped liver. Whatever Avery’s and Drew’s reasons for setting them up—and she would be having a conversation with Avery about this—she’d agreed to this date as a favor, and she was damn well going to see it through. She huffed and lifted her chin. “No. I agreed to take you out on this date, and that’s what I’m going to do. It would be a shame for you to have to sit at home by yourself and do whatever it is lonely, attractive men like you do.”
…
The last thing Ryan Flannery planned on when he came back to visit his family was being browbeaten by his big brother into a blind date. All he’d been looking for was a break from the Air Force—and the intense training he’d gone through for the last five and a half months—for two weeks. Then he’d hit the ground running, and start gearing up for his next deployment. He should have known a trip back to Wellingford would be anything but restful, but the siren call of home had been too much to resist after so long away.
Looking at the woman standing across from him, her chin raised and blue eyes flashing behind those sexy secretary glasses, he had to admit that coming back might have been a mistake. A muscle ticked in his jaw. She thought he was lonely? “I’m more than capable of keeping myself entertained.”
Bri brushed past him, her gaze on the street. “Do you think so? I think your brother has the right idea of it—a man whose idea of a good time is burning things to the ground shouldn’t be left to his own devices. You’re a menace to society.”
She sounded so prim and proper, he wanted to muss up her straight dark hair and undo a few buttons on her shirt just to see what she’d do. That thought gave him all the ammunition he needed. “You wouldn’t know a good time if it bit you in the ass.”
“Excuse me?” Her back went so ramrod straight, it was like he could see the stick up her ass. Ryan’s gaze dropped to where her hips curved, and he frowned at the long skirt. The fall of the fabric indicated there was something there worth grabbing, but he couldn’t be sure. “What were your plans tonight—hanging out with your thirteen cats and knitting them mittens?”
She gasped. “I don’t have cats. They’re evil creatures. I have a perfectly nice fish named Mr. Smith.”
“How mundane. Let me guess. A goldfish?” He closed the door behind him and pressed a hand to the small of her back, guiding her down the stairs and toward his Suburban. It was difficult not to follow the perfect line of her spine with his palm, no matter how aggravating he found her.
“Don’t be insulting. He’s a betta fish.”
Because that makes a world of difference. Ryan snorted. “No wonder you haven’t had a date in the fourteen months my brother’s known you. I bet you talk to your fish, too, don’t you?”
She half turned to glare, the move dragging his hand over her back, though she didn’t seem to notice. “Fish need companionship, same as any other animal. He likes it when I read to him.”
“I’ll bet he does.” He opened the passenger door and waited for her to climb into the seat, which she did with a huff. By the time he made it around to the driver’s side, her body language had chilled the inside of the car more than the weather.
He started the Suburban and took a second to let the truth sink in. His brother had well and truly screwed him. Drew had gone on and on about the beautiful—but shy—new librarian who’d just moved to Pennsylvania all the way from California and didn’t know many people in town, and needed someone to show her a good time. Ryan had figured there were worse things to do on leave than take out a sweet, pretty girl.
Turned out Drew was only half-right.
She thought he was a charity case. Hell, she practically clobbered him with it, despite the fact thathe was the one doing the favor here. Worse, she jumped at the first opportunity to shove his past down his throat—or an exaggerated version of it that didn’t take into account little things like the truth. And why should she be worried about the truth? No one else in this town was.
He pulled onto the street, wishing he hadn’t agreed to this favor. Instead of sitting in his SUV with a prickly little librarian, he’d be drinking beer with his brother and Avery while they played video games.
On second thought, maybe this was the better of the two options.
He glanced at Bri, taking in the way she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if she might break apart at any second. Or maybe she was just trying not to rip him a new one. He didn’t normally have women going for his throat within thirty seconds of meeting him, and this was a new experience he could have gone without. Ryan turned out of her neighborhood and replayed their meeting from beginning to end, trying to determine where it had all gone wrong.
It didn’t take long to figure out the answer.
When she’d opened the door, he’d been blown away, not expecting such an intoxicating blend of beautiful and what he could only describe as librarian. She’d been flushed and sporting an expression that was both terrified and excited, and all he could focus on was how he wanted to take off those sexy glasses and see if her lips tasted as kissable as they looked.
By the time he’d gotten hold of himself, all the excitement had melted away, leaving only a wary resignation. And then it was too late. Not a damn thing he could do or say would take back those seventeen seconds—she’d already mistaken his silence for disappointment. “You’re wrong.”
“Concerning which part?” She didn’t even look at him. “The fact that you can’t be trusted to spend time alone without doing damage to public property? Or for believing my friends when they said they were setting me up with a nice guy?”
He clenched his jaw. “Moving past the property damage bullshit for a second, what makes you think I’m not a nice guy?”
“Would you like a list?” She shook her head. “You couldn’t be clearer about your distaste for Wellingford. That’s hardly nice.”
“My disliking this place has nothing to do with being nice. This town is small and cloying and everyone here has been stuck in a rut since the lumber mill opened up a few hundred years ago.” Too late, he realized he had just included Bri in the insult.
She finally turned in her seat to face him. “Is that so? And what’s so wrong with working a legitimate job and making a living? Or the people who want a life where they know their neighbors? Or thatsome of us like not having to worry about locking our doors at night?”
He winced. Yep. She’d caught the unintended insult. “I—”
She spoke right over him. “Yes, people like to gossip and keep tabs on each other, but that’s what family does. At least you have one, even if you ran away from it.”
Setting aside the implication that she didn’t have a family for now, he growled. “I didn’t run away.”
“To hear Drew tell of it, you barely waited a week after graduation to up and leave.”
Yeah, because he couldn’t stand one more day of being known as Drunk Billy’s youngest boy, always causing trouble, never quite doing a damn thing right no matter how hard he tried. Burning down the high school—accidentally or not—had just been the straw that broke the camel’s back.
That didn’t mean that this little spitfire could look down her adorable nose at everything he’d accomplished since. “There’s nothing wrong with joining the military and doing something useful with my life.”
“You’re right. There isn’t. It’s admirable.” She didn’t give him time to deal with the shock of her actually agreeing with him. “How many times have you been home in the last ten years?”
From her tone, she already knew the answer. Twice. Once for his old man’s funeral, and once for Drew’s graduation from the police academy. Needing to get the topic off himself—and away from her goddamn judgment—he turned the tables. “You know, from the way Drew described you, I didn’t expect an interrogation.”
She huffed again as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot. He’d picked the Italian place on the outskirts of town, hoping to minimize the chance of running into anyone he knew. If he thought he could have gotten away with driving all the way into Williamsport, he would. But it was nearly forty minutes away, and he didn’t think he could handle being closeted in this SUV with Bri that long. He kept catching the faintest strain of her perfume, something light and floral, and it was distracting as hell. Annoyed that he’d even noticed, he spoke without thinking. “That said, for a mousy librarian, you sure have a mouth on you.”
…
Mousy librarian. He really wasn’t pulling any punches. Bri gripped her purse as she started for the restaurant, and she nearly gasped when he pressed a hand to the small of her back and guided her through the door. She glanced at him, half expecting to see… She wasn’t sure what. But there was just tight anger on his face.
What had she expected? That he was so overcome by her mousiness that he couldn’t help but touch her? She might enjoy living in the fictional worlds of her books, but she wasn’t delusional.
Knowing that didn’t help the way the heat from his hand seemed to seep through her coat and blouse and imprint itself on her skin. His thumb stroked down her spine in what must have been an accident, but it didn’t stop her from catching her breath. Was he playing with her? Look at the poor, dowdy librarian, and how she responds to the slightest touch like an overeager puppy. Pathetic.
She swatted his hand off her back, hating that she immediately missed the feel of him touching her. “Stop that.”
His mild look only made her want to spit nails. “I’m being polite.”
“Your version leaves a few things to be desired.” Mainly the “polite” part.
They followed the perky redheaded hostess back to a corner of the restaurant. Bri couldn’t help wondering if he’d purposely picked the restaurant on the farthest edge of town and called ahead and requested a spot where they were guaranteed to melt into the background and avoid every other customer in the place. He must really not want anyone to see them together.
Ryan held her chair out for her, and the suspicion that he was having one over on her only solidified. He’d spent their short time together insulting both her looks and her profession, and now he was being courteous?
It didn’t help that her body responded to him in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She wanted to blame it on the candlelight glinting off his strong jaw and those wonderful shoulders, wanted to believe the lie of intimacy created by the shadows and the way he rested his perfectly muscled forearms on the small table between them.
Because she wanted to believe it so desperately, she clung to the only ammo she had against him. “I might be a mousy librarian, but we can’t all be juvenile delinquents with firebug tendencies.”
His jaw hardened, sending a ripple of something through her lower stomach. “Too much excitement for you? Playing it safe is just another way of hiding.”
The barb struck too close to home. So what if she liked to play it safe? There was nothing wrong with wanting her adult life to have the security and roots her childhood had lacked. Maybe she’d missed a few opportunities for excitement as a result, but she regretted nothing. For him to sit there and judge her for that… “Better that than running away the first opportunity you had. Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t up and join the circus and cement the cliché.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I’ve heard enough.” As soon as she’d moved to Wellingford, she’d been entertained with stories of past events, many of which Ryan starred in. Most of those came from Drew himself, but there always seemed to be someone nearby to chip in with more when he got going.
“You and every other person in town. You’re all old maids, sitting around and telling tales of the glory days.”
Bri flinched. She’d grown up dreaming about a town like Wellingford, a place where family meant more than blood and it was finally safe to let down her guard. To have him so blatantly dismissing it—and dismissing her—stuck in her throat. “Just because you’ve seen a bit more of the world doesn’t mean you can look down on the people who live here.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m not the only one looking down on someone here.”
“Yes, well, your opinion is pretty clear, don’t you think?”
Ryan glared. “No, I don’t think. You’ve been here about a year, am I right?”
“Fourteen months.” Not very long in the grand scheme of things, but she’d managed to put down small roots, to instate a successful children’s program in her library, and to finally start to feel like she’d found somewhere to belong.
“Exactly.” Then he lifted his menu, obviously done with the conversation.
Well, that was too damn bad. She wasn’t. “Explain, please.”
“It means Wellingford is still a novelty for you. It’s new and cute and you’ve got stars in your eyes. I don’t. I see a place where everyone is in their neighbors’ business, and you can’t make a stop at Chilly’s without everyone in town knowing about it and speculating if you have an alcohol problem.”
What? Bri made a conscious effort to close her mouth before she spoke without thinking. Why would anyone assume that he’d have an alcohol problem? She knew for a fact Drew stopped by the local bar most days after work to have a beer, and there had never been a whisper of anything like that.
The waiter approached, all smiles and cheer, giving her the much-needed break to figure out how she was supposed to respond. She ordered a red wine while she considered, while Ryan ordered Drew’s favorite locally made beer. For all his negativity toward this town and its people, he’d obviously maintained a few roots of his own.
As soon as the waiter walked away, the charm he’d conjured up fled from Ryan’s face. Before she could say anything, he charged on, “And that’s not even getting started on how every single person here is so integrated in the past that they can’t step into the future.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having an appreciation of the past. It defines us.”
“Some of us don’t want to be defined by a drunk asshole of a father, or things we did when we were snot-nosed kids.”
He said it so matter-of-factly, it took her half a second to process his words. A drunk father? She’d known Drew for nearly a year and he’d never once mentioned anything like that. All she knew was that both his parents were gone, just like hers, but he never went into the details.
She unfolded her napkin, moving slower than normal as she processed the information and held it up to what she knew of Drew and Ryan. Maybe his leaving Wellingford had more to do with leaving his father behind than leaving the town? “I’m sorry.”
He frowned, as if waiting for her to say something else. But what else could she say? She hadn’t had the easiest of childhoods, either.
The line between his brows deepened when she didn’t jump in. “Whatever you’re thinking, knock it off.”
She laid her napkin in her lap. “I was just thinking that you and I aren’t that different.”
“Get that thought right out of your head, Bri. You’re wrong. You and I are nothing alike.”
Funny, but she wasn’t so sure anymore.
Chapter Two
For all her talk of their being alike, she pitied him. Ryan could see it on her face. This was why he never came home. It didn’t matter that he’d moved on with his life and made something of himself, or that he was part of one of the most elite professions within the Air Force. They’d never see him as anything other than Ryan Flannery, Drunk Billy’s youngest boy, and the Boy Who Burned Down the High School.
The people here had no desire to know the real Ryan. The woman sitting across from him was no different. Hell, she fit in here better than he ever had.
As much as it pained him to admit, there was something about her that got under his skin. He shouldn’t care what this near stranger thought of him. She was no one.
Except he did care. It didn’t make any sense. She wasn’t flashy or oozing sex appeal like some of his exes, but she had an understated look that made him sit up and take notice.
She smiled as the waiter brought their food, and even thanked him as if she really was the sweet woman Ryan had been promised. As the man walked away, she took a bite of her spaghetti, closed her eyes, and made a sound that he’d remember to his dying day. It was a cross between a whimper and a moan and it brought to mind all sorts of thoughts he had no business entertaining.
He shifted, unable to take his gaze off her face, and equally unable to stifle his body’s reaction to her. Holy shit. She looked even softer with her eyes closed and a small smile on her face. His body went on high alert, his instincts demanding he reach across the table and touch her. He must have let some of that desire through, because when she opened her eyes, she blushed.
“Stop staring at me.”
“We’re on a date. Staring goes with the territory.” He let himself look his fill, coasting over the mass of dark hair, the blue eyes her glasses couldn’t quite hide, and those lips, rosy and too damn kissable for his frame of mind. He leaned forward, ignoring his plate. She bit her lip, looking uncomfortable with his attention. This, at least, fit with how his brother had described her. Shy. Needing to be taken out and shown a good time. Which left the question of why. “So tell me. What are you hiding from?”
Bri went rigid. “I’m not hiding from anything.”
He’d struck a sore spot, one he couldn’t help poking at again with how irritated he was by his reaction to her. “Sure you are. Look at the way you dress—”
“I am not mousy.”
“—and the way you wear your hair.” He reached across the table and twined his finger through the lock closest to her face, enjoying the way she blushed harder. He would have enjoyed it a lot more if her hair wasn’t just as soft and thick as it looked. After giving it a tug, he released her and sat back. “All signs point to you hiding. From what?”
She set her fork down and took a sip of her wine with shaking fingers. It was nice knowing he wasn’t the only one with frayed nerves. But by the time she set the glass down, her calm mask was back in place. “I have nothing to hide from.”
She was lying, which only made him more curious to know what made a woman like Bri tick. While it was obvious he wasn’t getting answers tonight, he couldn’t resist one last dig. “In that case, you’re really trying too damn hard to fit the picture of what a librarian should be. Because, seriously, you’re wearing cat-eye glasses and frumpy clothes.”
She glanced at him from under her fringe of bangs, those eyes like a kick to the gut he didn’t want to deal with. “How would you know? I doubt you’ve spent much time around books, let alone in a library full of them.”
Well, hell, that stung. “You don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about.”
“Then why are you so angry?” She pushed her plate away. “I’m not really hungry, and I think we’ve put in enough time for this favor to be considered successful. I’m ready to go home.”
She was done, just like that? “So eager to run home and read to your fish.”
“Mr. Smith is significantly better company than I’m keeping right now.”
It figured that she’d think that. She’d started this date looking down her nose at him, and it appeared she was going to end it the same way. Ryan picked up his beer and drained the last of it. “That’s all well and good, but I’m having another beer.” Being at the same table with this woman was enough to drive a saint to drink, and he sure as fuck wasn’t that good of a man.
“Do whatever makes you happy. I’ll get a cab home.”
Like hell she would. That was just what he needed—her telling Drew he was being an ass, and then having to explain to his brother and Avery why things had gone so horribly wrong. He would rather get her home and forget this shit ever happened. With a sigh, he motioned her back down. “Relax. I’ll pay the tab and drive you home. No need to get your panties in a twist.”
Her knuckles went white where they clutched her purse. “My panties are none of your concern.”
Their bill arrived and he pulled out his wallet. “Honey, if there wasn’t such a large stick up your ass, you’d be begging me to rip off those lily-white granny panties—with my teeth.” She gasped, but he ignored her response and pushed to his feet. “But that might be too much excitement for a prickly little librarian like you.”
…
By the time Ryan pulled up in front of her house, Bri was ready to throw herself from the SUV to get away from her own mind. His words had sparked her imagination in the worst way possible. All she could picture was him kneeling before her, his huge shoulders parting her legs, and pressing his mouth against her there. No one had ever done that to her before, so she’d never felt the loss. Now? Now she clenched her legs together in an effort to tell herself she didn’t need it.
All the while, he sat there in the driver’s seat, sending off waves of… She wasn’t really sure what. Anger? Annoyance? Lust? Whatever it was, it was too charged to be labeled heat.
And that parting line right before they left the restaurant? How dare he! The insult hit even closer to home because just imagining him kissing her between her legs made her entire body shake. Actually doing it in real life might kill her. Heck yes, it was too much excitement. What was so wrong with that? This was the first date—even if they’d hit it off, there was no possibility of things going further than a good-night kiss.
She should have stayed home and finished her book. At least then she’d be guaranteed to be spending her time with a man who wasn’t pushing every single one of her buttons—only the button guaranteed to spin her out of her mind with pleasure.
Instead of driving off like she wished he would, Ryan got out of the car and walked her to the porch door, his hand once again settling on the small of her back. How could he do that, cut her legs out from beneath her and then touch her with such a casual possessiveness? She brushed against him with every step, his cologne making her want to move closer and press her nose against his neck.
What was she thinking? She could barely stand this man. She had no business considering pressing any part of her against any part of him. Unless it was her front door to his face.
They reached the steps of her porch. He held the screen door open for her and ushered her through. It should have been romantic, standing there in the soft light with the wind rustling the tall bushes surrounding her screened-in front porch. If they were in her book right now, the entire night would have been working toward this very second.
They were most definitely not in a romance novel.
“I would say it’s been a pleasure,” she said, “but I don’t make a habit of lying.”
“Of course you don’t. You’re practically a goddamn saint, aren’t you?”
She poked a finger into his chest. “It’s not being a saint to expect a little conversational courtesy on a date. You’ve gone and shot all that to hell. Don’t think for a second you’re getting a good-night kiss.”
“A kiss from you?” He stepped forward into her finger, forcing her to open her hand against his chest or take a step back. She refused to budge. He leaned down, crowding her. “I’d rather kiss a snake.”
“Then it’s too bad it’s winter, because they’re in short supply.” She pushed at his chest again, nearly snarling when he didn’t move. “You should just burn something else down. That might draw a few to the heat.”
“Or maybe I’ll just set fire to your goddamn granny panties. That’s sure to create a big enough blaze.”
Her jaw dropped open and she swallowed hard. “As if you could.”
“Watch me.”
He grabbed her hips and yanked her against him. Bri gasped. There was so much heat in his blue eyes, it was a wonder every single article of clothing she wore didn’t go up in smoke. “You—”
But then she saw it. The challenge hidden behind the heat. He didn’t think she could handle this. Handle him.
His mouth curled into a smirk, and his hands tightened on her hips. The feel of his fingers digging into her flesh through the thin fabric of her skirt made her want to throw all caution to the wind. He thought he’d won, did he?
“Screw it.” She grabbed the lapels of his shirt and went up on her tiptoes to smash her lips against his. He froze, then stumbled backward and slammed into the wall of her screened porch, taking her with him. A wave of victory went through her. For all his talk, he hadn’t expected her to make a move. She moved one hand to the back of his neck and tipped his head down so she could set her teeth into his bottom lip.
Just like that, he came alive in her arms and pulled her tighter against him. His tongue delved into her mouth, stroking hers with no hesitation, igniting her passion until she couldn’t fight back a moan. How could one giant brute taste so decadent? She slid her tongue along his, not sure if she was searching for an answer or simply enjoying the way her very nerves seemed to spark and dance at every place they touched.
Would her whole body do that if they were naked?
Whoa. Where had that thought come from? She was proving him wrong, not jumping into bed with the man. She tried to pull away. “I think—”
“Stop talking.” Ryan cupped her backside and devoured her mouth, grinding her against…holy hell. Her entire body went soft, knees weakening until it was only his firm grip that kept her from melting to a puddle at his feet. She’d been kissed before, but nothing like this. Never like this. She looped her arms around his neck, suddenly sure that getting closer was the only cure for the warmth pulsing through her body. It wasn’t enough, not with his tongue doing wicked things to her mouth and his body a hard counterpoint to her own.
She made a desperate noise in the back of her throat, and he responded by taking two large steps back and sinking onto the porch swing. The new position left her straddling him, and her flowy skirt immediately got in the way, bunching between their bodies and creating yet another barrier. They groaned together when she shifted, yanking the fabric up so she had access to his hard length. When she rocked against him, he groaned again and grabbed the arm of the swing.
“Hey. Keep your pyro hands off my house.”
His big hands moved under her shirt and up her sides to cup her breasts. Bri only had a moment to thank God it was dark enough that he wouldn’t notice the plain cotton bra before he pulled the cups down so he could stroke her nipples. “The only place my hands are going to be is here.” He squeezed her breasts and then reached down to press his palm against the vee between her legs. “And here.”
“Oh.” She rocked against him again as he kissed down her neck, his fingers stoking the need inside her until it was almost a pain. His whiskers rasped over her skin, and she whimpered. “Please, Ryan. Please.” She wasn’t even sure what she was begging him for, only that she needed it and needed it now.
“I’ll give you what you need. I promise.” He pulled her shirt over her head, his mouth leaving her skin barely long enough for the fabric to slide past. Then Ryan unhooked her bra and dropped it somewhere behind her.
Oh dear God, I’m nearly naked on my front porch. His lips closed around her nipple and her entire ability to reason shorted out, along with any worries she had about giving her neighbors a show. As his tongue slid over her, she shivered. This was… There were no words.
How could there be no words?
“Not enough,” he muttered against her skin.
“What?”
His only answer was to stand up, pull her legs around his waist, and set her back on the swing, going to his knees in front of her. Bri met his gaze, very aware that she was topless with her skirt shoved up around her waist. She should have felt exposed and embarrassed, but all she could see was her own need reflected in his eyes. Ryan reached up to cup her face. “Are you sure—?”
She was already nodding. They couldn’t stop now, not when she was poised on this precipice. To ensure he didn’t get any crazy ideas, she leaned forward and kissed him again. It felt so terrifyingly good, better than the best kind of chocolate, the kind of thing she may never get enough of. “Please don’t stop touching me, Ryan. Please.”
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