After tugging them on, he swiftly picked up everything he’d swept off the table. “Are you ready for dinner?” With a lascivious wink and a thump of his chest to make clear the double entendre, he offered, “Or do you want to skip straight to dessert?”
Annabeth threw her arms around his waist. “Oh, I want to have it all, Josh. I want everything you’ve got to give me.”
“It’ll be my pleasure. Always.”
It was one more promise Annabeth knew, for certain, that Josh would keep. And she couldn’t wait for their always to unfurl…
Thanks for reading Having It All, book 5 in the Naked Men series. And if you haven’t read book 1, Risking It All, grab it here!
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Finally, to see other books I’ve written, turn the page!
The Aisle Bound Series
Planning For Love
A Fine Romance
Friends To Lovers
A Matchless Romance
The Bad Boys Gone Good Trilogy
Bad For Her
Never Been Good
Got It Bad
The Shore Secrets Trilogy
Up To Me
All For You
Back To Us
The Naked Men Series
Risking It All
Wanting It All
Giving It All
Trying It All
The Bad Decisions Trilogy
The Opposite of Right
The Reverse of Perfection
The Other Side of Wrong
Beach Duet
Love At High Tide
Love On The Boardwalk
Act Like We’re In Love
Carolina Heat
Check My Heart
Cruising Toward Love
Never Too Late
The Do-Over
Christmas novellas
Ask Her At Christmas
Tinsel My Heart
BAD FOR HER
by
Christi Barth
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After laughing again, Mollie asked, “Do you like it here?”
Shit. Talk about a loaded question.
No.
Rafe hated it here, because it wasn’t Chicago. Because he heard freaking crickets at night instead of traffic and people hustling. Because there wasn’t any deep-dish pizza. Because of no jazz clubs like the Green Mill. Because it wasn’t home.
But…yes.
Because this new place would keep his brothers alive. It was their shot. Their best shot. Their only shot. And if he didn’t somehow find a reason to like it here, Rafe was screwed.
None of which he could say to Mollie. So he kept it simple. Shifted one knee to the ground so he could twist to look up at her and said, “I’m a big fan of the roadside attractions.”
She pursed her lips, slicked the same orange as her top and shoes. “Before, you were hitting on me. Now, you’re flirting with me. What’s with the change in tactics?”
“Figure I’ll just throw everything at the wall until something sticks.” He stood. Crowded right up into her space. Used his thumb to tuck a long strand of hair behind her ear. Watched her chest rise and fall twice in rapid succession before continuing. “You let me know when that happens, Doc.”
“I will,” she said. Pretty much breathlessly.
This had all the markings of a slam dunk. “You’re good.”
“How do you know? You haven’t even kissed me yet.”
That was it. He could hear the swish of the ball going through the net. “Your car.” Rafe edged to the right to kick the replaced tire. “The tire’s changed out. You’re good to hit the road.”
“Oh.” Her eyelids fluttered down.
“But now that it’s on the table, I want to know.”
“What?” And back up those long, dark lashes came. She had him locked in her sights like a laser.
Rafe moved to cage her against the car with his arms. They weren’t touching anywhere, but he hadn’t left room between for daylight to pass. “How good you are. Better yet, how bad you are.”
Then he waited. Didn’t move a muscle. Because it needed to be Mollie’s choice. Mostly because they were on the side of a semi-deserted highway. The sun—or Oregon’s pale version of it—was streaming down from overhead, and they were still on the blacktop. Rafe knew, though, that it could be seen as a potentially risky situation. He didn’t want her to feel pressured or scared. He just wanted to keep having fun with her.
But he’d read all the signals right, and didn’t have to wait long.
“Stop flirting. Start doing,” she ordered. And then Mollie crooked her leg around his calf in an invitation about as subtle as a gun to the head.
Rafe was a big fan of going for the obvious. It made life easier. So he leaned forward the extra eighth of an inch to bring their bodies flush. Waited again. The second she tipped her chin up in anticipation, then it was go time.
He took her mouth. This wasn’t a good night kiss at the front door with her parents watching. It was two strangers on the side of the damn road who were into each other. So he showed her his heat, showed her what she’d stirred up in him. Rafe molded her lips with his. Instantly, he discovered that Mollie’s lips were made for kissing. They were wide and warm and matched him move for move. Nip for nip.
Mollie’s sucking sweetness shot desire through him. Mostly straight to his dick, though. He rocked it against her. No reason to keep it a secret how much he wanted her. In response, she slapped a palm against the seat of his jeans and held on tight.
Okay.
Game on.
He threaded his fingers through her waterfall of soft hair, tilting her head to the perfect angle. Tightened his other hand over the curve of her hip. Then he plunged into her mouth. Her hot, wet, sweet-as-sin mouth. Mollie’s tongue met his, like two silken swords clashing for supremacy.
Ha. He’d win. He always did. Rafe liked being in control in the bedroom. The women he was with liked it, too. But he also enjoyed the process of getting there. Of turning a woman inside out with passion and want until she begged for his cock. Nothing turned him on like the sound of a woman moaning in desire.
Right now, Mollie wasn’t moaning yet. They were both gasping pretty hard for air in between kisses, though. Because she’d melted against him like butter. Her rockin’ body flowed, breast to hips to legs. They moved back and forth in a copy of the rhythm he’d started in the vee between her slim thighs. And this time, when he explored along the silk of her cheek and pulled her bottom lip like taffy with his teeth, she did moan.
A rule in Rafe’s life—well, his former life—was pretty simple. Get in, do what you had to (or get what you came for), and get out. Time spent thinking about things or talking them to death was time wasted. Time that usually screwed your original plan six ways from Sunday. He’d learned a long time ago that the rule wasn’t just good to go by when on mob business. It worked everywhere—at the grocery store, at a bar, and definitely with women.
Or when some four-legged little forest fuck might be about to bite an ankle. Rafe still didn’t trust all this animal and plant life in his new space. The concrete and steel jungle of Chicago was his comfort zone. All this thick green foliage and rustling in the shadows frankly freaked him out way more than a gang huddle in a back alley of the Southside. Not that he’d ever admit it.
Rafe knew it was time he eased back. Before his dick burst through his jeans. He brushed over Mollie’s swollen lower lip with the side of his thumb and then licked the taste of her from it, keeping his eyes on hers the whole time. A taste was all he’d gotten. Rafe wasn’t a one-nibble type of guy. He needed more.
He hadn’t hooked up with a woman since leaving Chicago. A tune-up for his gears sounded like just what the doctor should order. Nothing complicated. Just sex and fun, seeing as how that was all Rafe could offer with his whole life up in the air.
“Go out with me.”
Mo
llie took a step back and tightened her ponytail. “When?”
He liked that she didn’t play any stupid games, asking why or being coy. They both knew they wanted each other. “Friday night. I’ll come to your town.”
“Convenience and chivalry. That’s a combination I can’t resist.”
“Give me your phone.” Mollie grabbed it from the front seat of the car. Rafe put in his number. “There. The ball’s in your court. If this was weird, you can walk away, no questions asked. If you want a good time, text me where to meet you.”
She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Can I pay you for the tire change?”
Rafe was insulted for a split second. Before he realized she wasn’t being stiffly polite. No, Mollie’s open smile was full of pure gratitude. Like she actually thought it was a hardship to twirl a lug wrench for ten minutes.
“Would you ask for a couple of Jacksons if I’d cut my finger and you wrapped it up?”
“Of course not.”
“Same thing,” he said with a shrug.
Mollie dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I guess you’re a genuinely good guy, Rafe Maguire.”
Good thing he was turned away, picking up his jacket. Because he just about convulsed with laughter at the thought. As would all his friends back home. And his brothers. And definitely Marshal Evans.
On the other hand, it was the ex-Chicago mobster with a name he’d given up who wasn’t a good guy. Maybe, just maybe, Rafe Maguire could be one.
“No promises,” he said over his shoulder.
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USA TODAY bestselling author Christi Barth earned a Masters degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage. A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning. Ultimately she succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes award-winning contemporary romance, including the Naked Men and Aisle Bound series.
Christi can always be found either whipping up gourmet meals (for fun, honest!) or with her nose in a book. She lives in Maryland with the best husband in the world.
To connect with Christi, please visit her website .
Having It All
© 2019 Christi Barth
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.
Kindle Edition
Bad For Her
Text © 2017 by Christi Barth
Permission to reproduce text granted by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved.
Having It All Page 13
