Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Jeana E. Mann

  “Out of curiosity, how many times is one too many?” She smiled at him instead, to show she understood.

  “Lots. How do you think I bought that new truck?” His gaze leveled expectantly on hers. “Sometimes, I think it’s all I’m good for, really.”

  On impulse, she settled a pillow onto her lap and patted it with her hand. “Here. Lay your head down for a minute.” His thick eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline, followed by an immediate wince of pain. “Come on. It’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

  “Alright.” He laid down next to her and lowered his head to her lap. His dark eyes gazed up at her with approbation.

  She smoothed a hand over his hair to reassure him. “Now. Close your eyes and just breathe. In and out. Concentrate on each breath.”

  He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re not going to try some new age bullshit on me, are you?”

  “Just do it, Mackenzie.” The weight of his head was heavy but comforting in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair from forehead to crown. His thick locks slipped through her fingers. The edges of her fingernails raked across scalp, stimulating the nerves. After a few seconds, his lips parted, and he moaned.

  “Oh, God, that feels like heaven,” he said, eyes still shut.

  She smiled but said nothing. She moved her fingertips to massage his temples, over his forehead, and finally the base of his skull, digging her thumbs into the flesh with the right amount of pressure to elicit a hum of approval. After a few minutes, the tension around his eyes eased. His breathing evened out.

  The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest suggested he was asleep. She let her gaze wander over him. His tight T-shirt outlined the swell of well-developed pecs, the indentation of his sternum between them, and the ripples of abs below. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the tiny jolts of attraction deep in her core. Even though he was asleep, she continued to stroke his hair, smoothing out the curls and watching them rebound into their natural wave pattern. His eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks, unusually thick and much darker than the reddish-brown strip of beard along his jaw.

  With a fingertip, she traced the stubble, soft like plush velvet beneath her touch, along the sweep of his brows, the length of his long nose, and the seam of his mouth. The sensitive curve of his upper lip promised sensuality and responsiveness. His toned body guaranteed sexual satisfaction. When her finger halted, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal the startling charcoal gray irises had gone black. He took her hand in his and pressed her palm to his lips, the brush of his mustache tickling her skin.

  “Feeling better?” she asked breathlessly.

  He took her hand from his lips. Her heart skipped a beat. With his hand still on hers, he pressed her palm along his neck, over the ripples of his abdomen then further down to his fly. Heat rushed into her face at the feel of the hardened ridge beneath her palm.

  “What do you think?” he asked in a husky whisper, his gaze pinned to hers. Without waiting for an answer, he lifted and touched his lips to hers. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, questioning. She opened willingly for him. His tongue stroked softly through her mouth, gentle and undemanding. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she sighed.

  There was nothing hurried or frantic in his kiss. He explored her lips and tongue as if taking a leisurely stroll on a sunlit beach, relaxed and in the moment. One of his arms slid around her waist. His hand pressed the small of her back. The angle of his head changed, slanting his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss and causing her inner muscles to clench with a slow, needful ache.

  The low growl rumbling in his throat was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. His free hand came up and cupped the side of her face before sliding along her jaw, down the column of her throat, and skimming over the curve of her shoulder. Butterflies fluttered low in her belly, awakened by the sound of his labored breathing. When his palm came to rest on her breast with a gentle squeeze, her chest rose and fell in a shudder of anticipation.

  When a tiny, kittenish moan escaped Karly’s lips, it took every ounce of Randy’s self-control to keep from throwing her on the floor, stripping her naked, and fucking the hell out of her sweet body. For weeks he’d resisted temptation, trying to ignore his growing attraction to her. He closed his eyes and dragged his nose through her hair. Each breath filled his nostrils with the honey-and-citrus scent of her, urging him to take what he wanted without regard for the consequences.

  And there would be consequences. He was sure of it. He’d driven away every person he’d ever loved or cared about in his life. First his parents, and then a parade of ex-girlfriends culminating with Pilar. Somehow, he always managed to fuck things up. It was only a matter of time until he sabotaged his relationship with Karly. If he kept her at arm’s length, maybe she’d stick around. He’d rather have her in his life as a friend than not at all.

  The pain of his headache and the problems of the day disappeared at the feel of her breast beneath his hand. The nipple lifted into a tight bud as his fingers flicked over it. If he slid a finger inside her panties, he’d bet he would find her slick and ready for him. Thoughts like that rendered reason impossible. Her magic fingers tightened in his hair. His tongue plunged deeper into the sweet heat of her mouth. When she tugged on his hair, his dick stiffened with urgent need.

  Several different scenarios played out in his head as his hand headed south toward the waistband of her jeans. Should he throw her down on the couch and do her right there, quick and dirty? That might have been okay before, but he didn’t want to shortchange himself or her. He wanted to savor her, adore every inch of her body, learn the best way to get a few more sexy moans from her. He wanted to carry her to the bedroom, undress her slowly, and make love to her, the way she deserved.

  Love. The word sent a shudder through his body. His mind ground to a screeching halt. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t want or need complications like this in his life. The last time the word love had entered his life, he’d gotten his ass handed to him. He’d crushed Pilar by his inability to say the word. She’d walked away and taken their son with her. All because he couldn’t give her those four little letters. He groaned in resignation and pulled back to where he could see Karly’s face.

  “I didn’t come here to fuck you,” he said, “but I will if we don't stop now. And I don’t want that.”

  “What?” The look of startled confusion and hurt in her eyes surprised him. Of all the scenarios playing out inside his head, this wasn’t one of them. Maybe he'd underestimated her feelings for him. Maybe she cared more than she admitted. If they didn’t stop now, he was going to hurt her, and he’d never be able to forgive himself.

  “I don’t want to be anything more than friends.” He turned away, avoiding the stricken expression on her face, knowing that he put it there, hating himself for it, and unable to stop.

  “I hate to break it to you, but we already are friends.” She dropped her hands from his hair, leaving him curiously bereft of her touch. “Is it because of Amber?"

  “Amber? Hell no. There’s no one else.” He slid away and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to start something up. I’m not in the right place for a relationship. And I don’t want to take advantage of your friendship just because I'm messed up.”

  “Did you ever think maybe I don’t want a relationship either? Whatever happened to no strings and all that?” The honesty in her tone of voice set him back a notch. "You’re assuming an awful lot.”

  “Let’s just drop it,” he said, feeling like an ass.

  “Okay. Whatever.” She shrugged, and her unconcern stung a little more than he’d expected. “It’s no big deal.”

  What was he supposed to say to that? He was so goddamn hard his balls felt ready to explode. The vision of her with mussed-up hair and nipples straining against the thin cotton of her T-shirt was going to haunt his waking hours and dreams for a long time. He chose to say nothing, refusing to unlock the vault of his thoughts, or to let
his feelings escape.

  Time to get the fuck out. Panic swelled in his chest. He drew in a shaking breath and disentangled himself from her, finding relief in the physical distance. When he touched her, he couldn’t think straight. Everything got tangled up in the way she felt so damn good in his hands. Overwhelmed by the desire to bolt, his eyes flickered to the door. He needed to get the fuck away from her before he caved and did something desperate, like spill his guts.

  Silence stretched between them. A frown puckered the space between her slanted brows as he stood, straightened his shirt, and adjusted the pressure behind his zipper. Her eyes followed the motion of his hand. A slight smile quirked her lips. One of her eyebrows lifted. Was she laughing at him?

  “Well, the least you can do is help me clean up this mess before you go,” she said and patted his arm as if to comfort him, as if she’d been the one to spurn him and not the other way around.

  The air in the room lightened. He let out an audible sigh of relief. Karly got up from the couch and began to clear away the glasses and food from the coffee table. He had to admit her ambivalence stung. Here he was, wrecked by the near escape of his heart, and she’d already forgotten about it. As crazy as it sounded, he wanted it both ways. He wanted her to desire him while he held her at arm’s length, just in case circumstances changed.

  Goddamn, Mackenzie, Raoul was right. You are a little baby. Suck it up, man.

  He gathered his papers and books, shoving everything into his backpack. When he shouldered the strap and turned to say goodbye, he found her standing a few steps behind him. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in disarray, the fine, pale skin of her cheeks pink from the brush of his beard, and her lips red and swollen from his kisses. A twinge of excitement rushed through him, knowing he’d left his mark on her.

  “I’m out,” he said. “Thanks for the help."

  “No problem.” She flashed her sunny smile at him, shoved her hands deep into her pockets, and rocked back on her heels. “It was fun. We can do it again sometime if you want."

  No fucking way, he thought, but his heart skipped a beat at the idea. His gaze fell to her mouth as she ran her tongue over her lower lip. “Okay. Yeah. Maybe.”

  What the hell was he thinking? His feet started moving toward the door, looking for an escape. He homed in on the exit like a marathon runner headed to the finish line. Karly followed him. His hand reached for the doorknob. With safety in sight, he breathed a sigh of relief. She stopped him with a touch on his forearm. Damn. So close.

  “You left your keys on the table.” She smiled and slid the keys into his hand, giving it a light squeeze. When his eyes met hers, something had shifted in her gaze. The former heat had disappeared to be replaced with icy cool. His heart stuttered, skipped a beat, and started up again in double time. Had he gone too far this time? Maybe he didn’t want to have feelings for her but apparently, he had no choice. They were already there.

  CHAPTER 40

  ONCE THE exam was over, Karly sprinted out the door and down the hall. After a restless night, his rejection still stung her. Hour after hour, she lay awake, teeming with sexual frustration and irritation. The man had issues—deep issues—and his constant mood swings frazzled her nerves to the very edge. She cared for him more than she’d ever thought possible, but damned if she was going to beg for his attention. If he wanted emotional detachment, then he’d get it.

  By the time her hand touched the exit door, her anger was once again in full swing. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of him striding to catch her. Doubling her speed, she pushed through the door and sprinted into the parking lot.

  “Karly, hold up.” The touch of his hand on her arm caught her by surprise. She flung it off and kept walking. “Karly! Jesus, what's your hurry?”

  “I’ve got somewhere to be,” she replied. His long legs easily matched her stride. She focused on the bus stop at the end of the street to keep from glaring at him.

  “I’ll drop you.”

  “No thanks.”

  “I stopped by your apartment this morning to pick you up, and you were already gone.” The irritation in his tone gave her the smallest modicum of satisfaction. “I assumed we'd ride here together.”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe you shouldn’t assume next time,” she said. The heels of her boots clicked on the pavement. The bus stop loomed ahead, taunting her with its distance. One hundred yards to go. She was almost there.

  “And I saved you a seat in class,” he continued. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

  “Oh my fucking hell, Mackenzie.” Unable to continue the pretense any longer, she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and dropped her book bag to the pavement. Randy jerked to a halt in front of her and turned to face her with a frown. "You really are an idiot.”

  “Excuse me?” His rumbling voice held a hint of anger.

  “You. Are. An. Idiot,” she replied, nice and slowly so he could understand. “I am so over you. And whatever it is between us." To emphasize her point, she poked him twice in the chest with her forefinger. “And because you seem to need me to spell it out for you, here it is. We are not friends. Not anymore.”

  “But…” he sputtered.

  “Seriously, Randy. Being with you is like a schizophrenic nightmare. And frankly, I’m bored with it. One minute, you ask me on a date—which you never made good on——and the next you put your hands down my pants then push me away, saying you want to be friends. It’s like Groundhog Day on steroids. And I’m over it.”

  “But I thought…” Was it her imagination, or was there a glimmer of hurt in his eyes? Her anger dissipated, but she continued on principle. The man needed a lesson, and she was determined to teach it to him.

  “Yeah, well, maybe you should stop thinking so much.” Aware of a dozen staring eyes upon them, Karly bent to pick up her book bag and shouldered the strap. “If you get your shit together, give me a call.”

  Feeling a good deal lighter and somewhat embarrassed by the public outburst, she brushed past him and resumed her path to the bus stop. Once there, she took a seat on the bench, hugged the book bag to her chest, and forced her eyes to look anywhere but in Randy’s direction. She could feel his gaze still on her, but damn if she’d give him the satisfaction of looking back.

  Serves him right, the arrogant ass.

  CHAPTER 41

  KARLY’S ANGER continued to simmer on the bus ride downtown. She’d agreed to meet Ally for lunch, and although she wasn’t really in the mood for company, it was too late to cancel. Ally had offered to help review Karly’s finances and look for options to tighten her budget over a home-cooked meal. The prospect of baring her meager income to anyone gave rise to a million butterflies in her stomach, but she trusted Ally. The girl was a genius when it came to numbers. If anyone could help her, Ally could.

  Ally and Jack lived in an apartment above Jack’s other bar, Jameson’s Pub, a trendy Old World establishment in the city’s center. She smiled and waved at Jack behind the bar, sharp in a crisp white dress shirt and black pants, before heading to the hall where a freight elevator would take her upstairs. As the elevator car clunked and groaned to the top floor, the wailing of a baby cut through her thoughts.

  With every step closer to the apartment, the infant’s screaming grew louder. The apartment door stood ajar. She pushed through to find Ally and Chelsea standing in front of a tiny, red-faced bundle on the couch, miniature fists clenched and waving in fury. The twin expressions of bewilderment on the girls’ faces would have been comical if the situation had been less dire. Neither of them noticed when Karly entered the room.

  “What do you think is wrong with her? Do you think it’s her diaper?” Ally asked Chelsea.

  “I just changed her.” Chelsea’s voice held a note of desperation. “She’s been fed, changed, burped, and rocked. I walked all night with her. She doesn’t have a fever, and I don’t think she's sick.”

  “Maybe she’s possessed,” Ally said.


  Chelsea’s blue eyes narrowed in a warning gaze. “She’s not possessed. She hates me. I’m a terrible mom, and she knows it.”

  Ally knelt beside the sofa and stroked the baby’s fist with a forefinger. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” The baby screamed again, loud enough to make Ally cringe and jump to her feet. “Jesus,” she muttered. “She’s got some lungs on her, doesn’t she?”

  “What the hell?” Karly stood beside them, hands curled into fists. Every instinct inside her yearned to pick up the baby. “What's wrong?”

  Both women yelped, startled by her presence. She didn’t know Chelsea well, but the despair and misery on her features was plain to even a stranger. The oval face was pale and drawn, smudges of exhaustion beneath the exotic cat-shaped eyes. Her blue-black hair, sleek as a raven’s wing, swung as she turned to face Karly.

  “I have no idea. Maybe you can figure it out.” Chelsea threw up her hands and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  “What’s she doing here?” Karly whispered to Ally with a nod toward the bathroom.

  “Hell if I know,” Ally replied. “She showed up a few minutes ago. Said she was desperate and didn’t have anyone else to ask for help.”

  “Come here, sweetheart,” Karly crooned to the baby. She cradled the child to her breast, finding comfort in the sweet clean scent of baby powder. The baby screamed again as if stuck by a pin. “Holy hell,” Karly muttered.

  Emma had been a fussy baby, but nothing like this. Frowning, she took a seat on the couch and balanced the baby across her knees. She ran through a quick checklist of possible issues. The child’s skin was warm but not feverish, damp from the exertion of screaming. The diaper was clean, and her clothes fit well without any scratchy spots. She bit her lower lip in contemplation. Finally, as a last resort, she swaddled the infant in her blanket, wrapping her so snugly that the baby could barely move. The child’s face relaxed and her eyes drooped in exhaustion.