His masterful mouth slid away, and she whimpered until she felt his lips side along her jaw and down her neck. She leaned her head sideways to give him better access, and she shuddered at the vibration of his chuckle against her neck.
His big hand slowly stroked a path from her knee up her thigh and over her hip, and slowed to a spot just below her breast. Her breath caught, and his sexy-as-sin mouth kissed back up her neck and jaw, alternating between little bites and then licking the spot with the tip of his tongue. She quivered. She couldn’t help it. Every erogenous nerve in her body and some she didn’t even know about had come fully awake.
His hand slid over her breast, and she gasped, then arched up into his hand. His kiss turned wild and hungry. His tongue stroked into her mouth with a rhythm that made her eyes cross. This was second base, her mind warned hazily.
Concentrating on any thought was difficult when her whole body had tuned to feel, not think. Third base would blow her mind. Third base would be . . . almost a home run. A home run would . . .
“Wait!” Her voice shook as she pulled her mouth free of his anything-you-want lips.
She could hear Aidan’s labored breathing, her own close to a pant.
“Wait?” he echoed hoarsely.
“Yes.”
He started to lower his beautiful mouth, and she pressed her fingers to his lips.
“I have to tell you something first,” she whispered, her voice still sounding breathless. “We’re at second base.”
His low laugh vibrated against her fingers, and a shudder slid down her spine. He felt it, and he tightened the arm around her back.
“Third base will be even better,” his rough voice rumbled, and he kissed her fingers. “But you didn’t have to stop me to tell me that. I already knew.”
She could feel his smile spread across her fingers, and he leaned forward, pressing her fingers back against her own lips.
“And after third base,” he growled, making her fingers tremble.
“No!”
He stilled.
“No third base?” His voice still sounded husky with a desire she didn’t want to hear vanish.
He eased back, and she lowered her fingers.
“I’m not saying that exactly,” she tested.
His eyes stared into hers. She could lose herself in those puppy-dog dark eyes in seconds flat.
“Then what are you saying?” He sounded a little panicked.
This was sooo not good.
She didn’t want to admit the truth. She hated what would happen, but she had to tell him. He deserved to know.
“I . . .” She took a deep breath. “I . . . Well, I . . .”
“You what?” His big hands framed her face.
She wanted the perfect words, to make this okay. She couldn’t think with his big, warm hands on her cheeks and his talented, too-sexy-for-its-own-good mouth so very close.
“I don’t sleep around,” she blurted.
He smiled. “Good. Me neither.”
He leaned in for another kiss.
“I haven’t slept around.”
That stopped him.
“Ever?” he choked out.
Casey stared into his beautiful eyes, willing him to figure it out, so she didn’t have to blurt the truth aloud.
“Oh, Lord, not again.” Aidan sighed heavily and rolled to the side, covering his eyes with his arm. “I know that look. Dammit! That’s the I-have-to-be-in-love-first look.”
He lowered his arm and turned his head to see her face. To be sure.
Casey nodded. What could she say? It was true. She just wondered how Aidan could see it. Did she walk around with that look on her face?
He covered his eyes again and groaned, “Why me?”
Her heart sunk. She had known this would happen. Better now than when they reached third base. If they ever reached it now.
“I never had the chance,” she tried to explain. “The guys I cared about always ran off first.”
The arm flew off his eyes, and he pointed a finger at her nose. “Do not lump me in with the others.”
“I guess you don’t want me now.” She hated that her voice sounded weak and small. “Now you’ll want to be just friends.”
“I never said that,” he growled and rolled up on his side, his nose inches from hers.
“You didn’t?”
“No, ma’am. I’d have to be dead not to want you.”
“So—” She swallowed hard, not sure she wanted the answer. “—what now?”
His big thigh slid back over hers, and his lips brushed a light kiss on her mouth. “I can be quite content at second base.”
He brushed another light kiss across Casey’s lips, and they sizzled from the heat of the contact. “I can be even more content at third base. I don’t need a home run to be happy.”
He lingered for just a second with another light kiss, and she couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. He poised just above her and stared into her eyes. The look made her feel desired and cherished and maybe even beautiful.
“K-Kiss me,” he mimicked her earlier greeting.
She slid her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, lost herself in a heart-racing, thank-God-he’s-still-here kiss.
He shifted his weight until she lay beneath him. His hand stroked down her side from her shoulder to her knee in a smooth sensual slide—down and back—then slowed to gently take her breast in his palm. All the while kissing her senseless.
Casey arched up into the hand on her breast, and she felt her control slipping like dress shoes on ice, but she couldn’t let go of the wonderful, giddy butterfly feelings he’d created in her belly. She felt drunk—high as a kite—and she wanted the skittery delicious waves of desire to go on all night. She had started out the evening worried sick that she’d lost Aidan to Deedee Bartow, and now he was lying here on the sofa making her feel wanted and needed and . . .
Oh no.
She never even asked him about Deedee.
No, do it later, her heart begged. Do it tomorrow.
Through the sensual haze blanketing her, Casey could hear Janie’s words breaking through. “Deedee Bartow is trying to crawl into his pants.”
Had Deedee made it? Into his pants? That was a couple hours ago.
Casey gasped, and Aidan went still.
She pushed at his chest. “Wait,” she squeaked.
“What’s wrong now?” he growled.
God forgive her, she almost pulled him back down at the husky sound of his voce. She had done that to him. Not Deedee Bartow. Surely Aidan wouldn’t have kissed Deedee and then come home and kissed Casey brainless, would he?
But you asked him to kiss you, her brain taunted.
“We have to talk first.”
Aidan groaned and buried his face in her neck. “Not now. Later.”
He sounded in pain, and she almost hugged him to her until she felt him nuzzling her neck. Oh Lord, that felt sooo good.
Wait a minute. He was trying to distract her.
“No, Aidan. We have to talk now. Please.”
He grudgingly heaved himself up on his elbows. “We already talked. You don’t want to be just friends. Me neither. No home runs. We’re done talking.”
He lowered his sexy lips to hers, and she barely managed to keep him back. “Janie called me from the Sand Dollar,” she blurted before she could get her now-mushy brain on lockdown.
Great. Now he’d think Casey had her friends spying on him. She considered tugging him back for one of his Olympic—competitive kisses.
He took the bait. “Who’s Janie?”
“My best friend since high school.”
His brows curled adorably into a frown. Maybe his
brain felt mushy too.
“She said you were with Deedee Bartow.” Casey winced when that came out like an accusation.
He hesitated as though deciding whether to answer. “Yes.”
Just yes? Not good enough, mister.
“Were you with her?”
Another frown. “I just said I was.”
Casey gasped, feeling tears stinging the backs of her eyelids. “You were with with her?” she cried and pushed him back enough she could sit up.
“Am I missing something here?”
“You sure are!” She smacked his chest back with both palms. “Me!”
She scrambled to disentangle her legs from his, but Aidan was having none of that. He banded his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side. “Oh, no you don’t,” he grumbled. “You don’t get to make my head ready to explode with your stop-and-start kisses, then try to bolt because I had a drink with Deedee Bartow.”
Casey struggled futilely. “You had more than that. You just said so.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. You said you were with with her.” She blinked to keep the tears at bay.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t even know what that means. You’ve got my brain so muddled I can’t think.”
“Baloney! With with her means like this.” Casey fluttered her hand back and forth over the sofa where they’d been lying. “Only more.”
She studied him, so she knew the exact moment he understood.
“Oh hell no!” he roared and jerked back so no part of him touched her. “Not a chance.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” He looked really angry now, but she didn’t care. She was mad too.
“Janie said—”
He rolled his eyes. “Janie again.”
“Janie said Deedee was trying to crawl into your pants!” Casey cried.
“So?”
She gasped. “She tried to crawl into your pants, and all you can say is so?”
“That’s right. I was after information.”
“Oh really?” She raised a sardonic brow, and he bristled.
“Yes, really. You’re acting like such a brat, I shouldn’t even tell you.”
Casey glared. “I’m a brat? You canoodle with Deedee Bartow in front of half the town and then come here and try to canoodle with me, and I’m a brat?”
“Canoodle. Now there’s a word,” he shouted. “A word only a brat would throw down.”
“Why you—” She flew off the sofa, and her hands fisted at her hips. She wanted to run, but she had to know what happened with Deedee. She would never sleep otherwise.
“If you trust me so little as to think I’d cuddle up to Deedee and then come home to let you kiss me senseless, then maybe I should keep my distance from you.” He smacked his fists onto the sofa cushion. “Damn, you make me crazy!”
“Me kiss you?” Casey shouted. “Who was on top just now?”
Aidan was on her before she could take another breath. Nose to nose, he mimicked in a girly voice, “Aidan, k-kiss me.”
She inhaled sharply. “You rotten—”
“And for your information,” he went on, as though she hadn’t almost called him a jackass, though she thought it, “I was trying to get the lowdown on Archer’s slimy loans. He’s made a loan pass at Neal and Frank and Byford Traynor and others. I think there’s more, and I think he’s up to funny business.”
“Why do you care? You’re leaving?”
“Because I like Neal and Byford and Frank. And I like this town.”
“What can you do about Archer Bartow?”
He leaned in nose to nose again. “You’d be surprised what I can do, little girl.” He straightened. “Like find out Archer Bartow has a silent partner on these loans. Someone with whom he is in constant contact.”
Casey gaped at him. “Deedee told you that?”
He nodded. “I told her I might be interested in a loan to start my charter fishing service in Cypress Key.”
Hope obliterated the last vestiges of her anger. “You’re thinking about starting up fishing excursions?” She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice.
Aidan was shaking his head before she even finished. “No, but I needed a reason to grill Deedee about her father’s loans.”
“What did that cost you?” she asked sullenly, feeling embarrassed and a bit humiliated.
Aidan had the decency to show some chagrin. “I, uh, had to promise her dinner another time.”
Before Casey could open her mouth, he quickly added, “Because she’s going to try to find out the identity of the partner. I told her I couldn’t consider a loan if I didn’t know who both lenders were.”
“How convenient for you.” Sarcastic, yes, but Casey couldn’t seem to stop herself.
Aidan snatched her up tight to his chest. “Don’t you be like that. I’m trying to help Frank and the folks in Cypress Key. I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
She hated the unbidden tears welling up in her eyes. She had never wanted to trust anybody more, but he had approached Deedee at the bar tonight and even promised to have dinner with her another night, and he wasn’t the least bit sorry. If it was anybody but Deedee...
Aidan stared hard at her eyes, and his expression hardened. “You can’t trust me, can you?”
“I want to,” she whispered and couldn’t hide the quiver in her voice.
“But you don’t,” he said grimly. “Hunks don’t all have dark souls, Casey.”
She scowled at him. “Oh, so now you think you’re handsome, do you?”
“You already told me I’m handsome that first night.”
“Oh. Right.”
“I don’t have a dark soul.” He finally smiled. “I’m sweet. All the girls say so.”
She didn’t smile back.
“I’m just kidding, Casey.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “Why don’t you give me a chance to prove I’m trustworthy before you condemn me?”
Aidan looked truthful, but give him a chance at dinner with Deedee Bartow? That would be more of a challenge than Casey could handle.
Rather than give him an answer, she said, “I’m tired. You and I have a big day tomorrow. We better call it a night.”
Aidan’s hard exhale sounded full of frustration and residual anger. Her chest tightened. If she wasn’t careful, she’d push him right into Deedee’s arms for real.
Chapter 13
Aidan stared at the steps to the second floor where Casey had disappeared. What had just happened here?
I took another ride on the Wild Casey roller coaster. That’s what.
She had taken him from zero to sixty again in three heartbeats. A new record. No one had primed his pump faster than that little slip of a girl had when she stared at his mouth. She got him so knotted up his left brain couldn’t access his right brain. She had his pump so primed right now, he was more out of his mind from her kisses than from screwing other women he’d known. He’d felt like he was making love to Casey with just a damn kiss.
And that was crazy. Nonsense.
But there it was. Since a kiss was likely all he was going to get.
The image of one of his supermodel girlfriends sprang into his head. The woman had once upon a time read to Aidan from one of her romance novels—a passage citing how the hero had suffered intense pain from his unrequited passion. Aidan had burst into laughter and called the quote silly. His then-girlfriend had stomped from the room. He glanced down at his jeans stretched tight over his fly. He wasn’t laughing now.
As uncomfortable as Casey had left him, it was nothing compared to how she had hurt his ego. “What can you do about Archer Bartow?” she had said and believed him incapable of assisting
the townsfolk of Cypress Key. She didn’t trust Aidan and didn’t count on him to help her. This little spitfire who made him line up chip bags and sodas.
He pondered the wisdom of marching upstairs, scooping her out of her bed, and bringing her back down here, so they could bury their hatchet or their troubles or Deedee Bartow. Or all three.
That wouldn’t work. Frank was probably upstairs.
The little brat always got the last word, and Aidan would have to bide his time to see where he fit in. He grinned. At least she’d given up the just be friends request. He always managed to fit back in.
Maybe Ms. Casey Stuart was as hooked as Aidan felt. He’d never had to work for a woman’s affection before. This was a first. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind. The prize would be well worth the effort. His plans to get the little termagant in his bed had just suffered a delay is all.
Finding out Casey hadn’t been to bed with a man had come as a mind-blowing shock, especially at her age. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that situation, hadn’t had enough time to process the scenario from all vantage points as he usually did.
He had laughed when Garrett found himself in the same unlikely situation, playing Prince to his virgin Cinderella. Garrett swore he hadn’t minded.
Aidan didn’t—couldn’t—ever remember sleeping with a virgin. Equal parts relief and panic had held him in check. Admittedly, he would have preferred Casey experienced.
“Then again, maybe not,” he muttered. The idea of her in bed with one of her three previous boyfriends made his gut twist into a knot.
“Is it safe to come down?” Frank called from the top of the stairs, and Aidan started.
PAR FOR CINDERELLA Page 17
