Which was one of the many things that turned him on about her, that sassy defiance of hers, compared to the complacent, always-wanting-to-please-him women he was used to. “She should be worried,” Wes grumbled, because his palm was suddenly itching to make contact with her ass. She certainly deserved a spanking for her bad behavior tonight.
Connor’s gaze narrowed on Wes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Wes sighed, cherishing his manhood way too much to reveal his dirty thoughts to his best friend about his own sister. “Nothing. It means nothing.”
Connor didn’t look convinced but let it go, and they played another couple rounds of poker without Natalie prancing around and distracting the hell out of Wes. It was quiet and calm and relaxing while they focused on their game, until about fifteen minutes later, when he caught a subtle whiff of something acrid.
“Something smells like it’s burning,” Kyle said right then, confirming that Wes wasn’t imagining things.
“Yeah, I smell it, too,” Max said.
Wes glanced toward the stairs and could have sworn he saw a faint swirl of smoke coming through the doorway. He frowned. Something definitely wasn’t right. He placed his cards facedown on the table and stood up to go and check things out just as the shrill sound of the fire alarm blared through the house.
“What the fuck?” Worried about Natalie, Wes bolted up the stairs with the other three guys tailing him and followed the trail of smoke into the kitchen, where it was the thickest and most pungent. “Natalie? Everything okay in here?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him, nonplussed as she pulled the appetizers from the oven and set the scorched trays of food on the stove. Coughing a few times, she waved the potholder in the air to try and cut through the smoke, until the fire alarm finally went quiet again. “I think I left the appetizers in the oven longer than I was supposed to.”
An understatement, Wes thought, his eyes stinging from the lingering haze in the kitchen. Everything was burnt to a crisp and inedible and looked as though she’d cooked it with a blow torch. Hell, maybe she had. Tonight he wouldn’t put anything past her.
“Geez, Nat,” her brother said, unable to disguise the disappointment that he wasn’t going to get fed tonight. “It’s not that difficult to heat up pizza rolls, wings, and jalapeño poppers.”
She gave all four of them a contrite look that Wes didn’t believe for a second. “I’m really sorry, guys. And this was all of the appetizers that Wes had.”
Surprise, surprise, Wes thought sarcastically.
“What are we going to eat?” Kyle asked, a bit grumpily. “I didn’t have dinner and I’m hungry.”
“We’ll have a couple of pizzas delivered from Dominos.” Wes pinned Natalie with an I know exactly what you’re up to kind of look, because he knew damn well she wasn’t as incompetent as she was making herself out to be. “Think you can handle making the call?”
“Of course I can.” The impudent minx rolled her eyes at him, as if he was the inept one. “You all go back to your poker game, and I’ll order the pizzas and clean up this mess,” she said, indicating the charred appetizers.
As the four of them headed back down to the basement, Wes’s intuition told him not to trust Natalie, but how badly could someone screw up a pizza order?
Pretty fucking badly, he learned a half an hour later as she brought down the delivery boxes, set them on a side table with paper plates and napkins, and opened up the lids to reveal two of the grossest combinations of pizza toppings he could ever imagine.
She gasped and did a hell of a job rounding her eyes in shock as she looked at the pies. “Oh, my God, they totally got my order all wrong! I said pepperoni and mushrooms, not extra anchovies! And this one that has nothing but pineapple and jalapeños on it should have been a BBQ chicken supreme!”
Wes wanted to call bullshit so badly but managed to bite his tongue.
Kyle wrinkled his nose as he caught the strong scent of fish wafting in the air, since the ratio of pepperoni to anchovies was skewed toward the slimy-looking bait. “Okay, that’s just disgusting.”
“It’s not that bad,” she disagreed to the four men standing around the table, none of them wanting to be the first to sample the offensive pizzas. “Just pick off the anchovies the best you can, and you never know, pineapple and jalapeños might be an awesome combination.”
“Oh, come on, Natalie,” Connor groaned in frustration. “I get that you’re screwing with Wes for making you be the maid tonight, but why do we have to suffer, too?”
“Finally someone else is catching on to her antics,” Wes said, tossing his hands in the air.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Natalie batted those long lashes at him and spun around to head toward the stairs. “I’ll go get you all a round of cold beers to go with your pizza.”
“Yeah, we’re going to need it to wash down the nasty taste of anchovies,” Kyle called after her.
All four of them remained where they were standing, staring at the pizza with varying degrees of apprehension, none of them eager to be the first to dive into this new culinary experience.
The loud, obnoxious grumble of Kyle’s stomach forced the other man to make a decision. He swore beneath his breath, picked up a plate, and grabbed a slice of each pizza. The repulsive look on Kyle’s face was comical but reflective of how all of them felt about the objectionable toppings they were about to consume.
They all sat back down at the table and began picking anchovies off their pizza, and even with them gone—at least what they could see of them—the salty, fishy taste was prominent in each bite. The jalapeño and pineapple combo was no better, and Wes was grateful for the ice-cold beer that Natalie delivered that helped cut through the heat and aftertaste lingering in his mouth. Ugh.
After finishing two slices, he told the guys he’d be right back and headed straight for the master bathroom and his toothbrush. He didn’t even feel one bit guilty that he had the luxury of brushing his teeth and using minty Scope to rinse the despicable flavor out of his mouth, even though the other guys had to suffer.
He returned, and while Natalie cleaned up after their snack, they started another game. She picked up their paper plates—piled high with anchovies and some jalapeños—and tossed them into a trash bag. She went around the table, and when she arrived next to him, he felt the brush of her enticing chest against his arm—intentional, no doubt—as she reached for a crumpled napkin in front of him. He exhaled slowly and calmly and managed to ignore the physical taunt of her breasts, and just when she started to move away and he thought he could truly relax, her hand knocked his bottle of beer out of the holder. He watched with a sense of foreboding dread as the bottle tipped over completely, and the cold contents poured right into his lap.
The chilled liquid shocked his system, and he sucked in a sharp breath and shoved his chair away from the table, which did no good since the front of his jeans were already drenched through.
He lifted his narrowed gaze to Natalie. What. The. Fuck.
“Oh, damn,” he heard Max say in a low voice that was edged with laughter.
“Yeah, the shit is about to get real,” Kyle added.
“I’m so, so sorry!” Natalie exclaimed as she went to grab a napkin from the side table. “I can’t believe how clumsy I am!”
Clumsy, my fucking ass. Natalie was one of the most agile, coordinated women he knew.
She returned quickly and started rubbing and pressing against the front of his jeans with the thin napkin to soak up the beer, but it had already seeped through to his skin. He gritted his teeth as her fingers grazed along his rapidly hardening cock, and he couldn’t deny that for a brief moment he let himself think about how her bare hand would feel wrapped around his shaft and stroking the length in her tight fist . . . until he came to his senses and realized they had an audience, and Connor would likely murder him for getting a boner when his sister was just trying to help.
He grabbed her wrist and
yanked her hand away before the situation could get any worse. “Stop,” he snapped, his frustration—mostly sexual—getting the best of him. “I’m waving the fucking white flag, okay?” It went against his grain to surrender, especially when he’d won the bet and she should have been way more cooperative this evening.
She bit back a smile, but he didn’t miss the triumphant sparkle in her gaze. “Oh, okay,” she said, somehow sounding naive, as if she had no idea the havoc she’d wreaked on him tonight.
She was a damn good actress on top of everything else.
Connor scowled at him. “That’s what you get for making Natalie wear that ridiculous outfit and bossing her around.”
Wes exhaled, slow and deep, to keep from responding to that false statement. He’d done neither but didn’t bother defending himself when Connor had already pegged him as the bad guy. God, he was done with the poker game and the guys. But he was far from finished with Natalie.
“The game is over,” he announced, and stood up, all too aware of the big wet spot on his jeans, but on the upside, at least his hard-on had subsided.
“Yeah, I figured as much,” Kyle said, standing along with Max and Connor. “But it was definitely an entertaining evening.”
Wes followed them up the stairs and to the door, while Natalie disappeared into the kitchen. Once the guys were gone, he closed and locked the door, then went to confront the woman who’d caused chaos with his poker night and his libido.
They had a few things to settle between them, and he had a feeling that a few more lines between them were about to be crossed.
Chapter Eight
Wes strode into the kitchen, finding the counters and sink cleaner than he’d expected considering the appetizer fiasco earlier. In fact, Natalie was leaning casually against the counter, drinking water from a bottle, and looking very satisfied with herself.
Not for long.
She met his gaze, that gratification ebbing from her expression as she watched him walk straight toward her, his body language confident and back in charge. Awareness flashed in her eyes, and she licked her bottom lip a bit nervously now that they were completely alone, especially when he stopped in front of her, braced his hands on the counter on either side of her hips, and got right up into her personal space.
She set her water bottle aside but didn’t try to back away—not that there was anywhere for her to go—but the sudden rise and fall of her chest gave away her body’s reaction to him, to the years of combustible attraction they’d both suppressed up to this point. He had a feeling it was all going to boil over and burn them both.
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Do you have something to say for yourself, Minx?”
Her big blue eyes went wide, though there wasn’t an ounce of remorse in their depths for making tonight a complete disaster. “Umm, I’m sorry you had to cut the game short?”
She wasn’t going to give an inch, but judging by his aching cock, he was more than prepared to give her a good seven of his own, depending on how this conversation played out. “Like you gave me a choice,” he said sarcastically.
Her chin lifted a notch, but the heat in her gaze overrode any attempt she made at defiance. “I never said the guys had to leave or that the game was over.”
Was she fucking serious? Yeah, she was, and he was about to set her straight. “Let me tell you exactly why I ended poker night early,” he said, shifting his stance so that the rigid length of his erection made a distinct imprint on her bare thigh, since those crazy high heels she was wearing boosted her to his height.
“You’re strutting around in this hot-as-fuck costume that has had my dick standing at full attention since the moment you walked into my place. You nearly burned my house down along with the appetizers. You ordered the most disgusting pizza I’ve ever tasted, and lastly, you were rubbing my goddamn cock with your hand less than ten minutes ago. Do you honestly believe I can think straight after that?”
The corner of her lips twitched with humor. “It’s all about mind over matter, Wes,” she said, repeating the words he’d used to get her onto the Centennial Wheel with him. As if it were that easy for him to shut off his dick’s response to her.
God, that mouth of hers was so fucking sassy, and he was done tiptoeing around this chemistry between them and keeping his explicit thoughts about her to himself. And he was so done with her topping him from the bottom, trying to take control of any given situation just to prove she wasn’t a weak, delicate female who would accede to a man. Especially him.
“I’ll give you mind over fucking matter,” he growled. Finished playing nice when what he wanted was down and dirty, he slipped his hands beneath her short skirt so that his fingers were now gripping the soft, rounded curve of her bottom through her thin panties.
She gasped, her hands instinctively grabbing on to his biceps for support. The brazen move clearly shocked her, but she didn’t protest his manhandling. In fact, the spark of desire illuminating her eyes and the tiny pulse beating erratically at the base of her throat told him that she liked the bit of rough play.
And he wasn’t above testing that theory. “What I ought to do is bend you over and thoroughly spank your ass for undermining me and being so insubordinate tonight.”
A pink flush spread across her cheeks, but the wanting in her gaze never wavered. “Maybe you should,” she retorted huskily, recklessly.
Her words, her approval, were like a hungry jolt of lust straight to his already stiff cock. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”
She wet her bottom lip with her tongue, and the hands on his arms dropped to the hem of his T-shirt, then slid beneath until her fingers grazed that sensitive sweet spot right below his navel and right above the waistband of his jeans, tracing the lines of his abs.
“I dare you,” she whispered, coming damn close to dwindling what little was left of his willpower to resist her.
“You’re playing with fire,” he warned in a low voice, wanting to make sure she realized exactly where all this teasing was heading.
“I know.” Her lashes fell half-mast, and a challenging smile curved her lips. “I double dog dare you.”
He had a brief flashback to their childhood and the many times he’d double dog dared her. It had been the ultimate taunt all those years ago, a sure way to get Natalie to do whatever he’d wanted because she’d never refuse any provocation. Now, she was turning the tables on him, and he didn’t need any more incentive to give life to all the things he’d fantasized about doing to her for so fucking long.
But he wasn’t opposed to making her suffer, just a bit more, for everything she’d put him through tonight. Payback was a bitch. And there was also the little matter of her telling him not to kiss her again that needed to be resolved before they went any further. Because kissing her was definitely going to happen, along with a whole lot of other wicked, illicit things that would guarantee she’d beg for more. And the thought of Natalie gasping and pleading and desperate for him had his blood running hot in his veins.
Releasing her ass, he lifted his hands to her face, holding her jaw in his grasp. He tipped her head back slightly, until her hazy eyes locked with his. Then he slowly, gradually lowered his mouth, so close to her parted, upturned lips that he could feel each of her impatient breaths against his skin as her anticipation grew. She was more than primed for him to seal the deal, but he held it just out of her reach.
Finally, she moaned in frustration. “What are you waiting for?”
He smiled at the exasperation in her voice. “I’m waiting for your permission to kiss you, since you were pretty adamant about not allowing me to do it again the other night.” He dragged the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, marveling at his own restraint when he was dying to devour her. “I need to know it’s okay, because I’m not going to stop at just one taste this time, and I can pretty much guarantee that once my lips touch yours, there will be no going back. My mouth is going to be all over this gorgeous, sexy body of yours . . . licking at you
r neck, sucking your tight, pert nipples, biting along your stomach, and if you’re real good, I might even introduce your pussy to my tongue.”
She shivered, even as her soft laugh rolled into a desperate, needy moan. “You have my permission to kiss me, and please do all those other things to me, too.”
Ahhh, she’s already begging, he thought with a grin. He loved her uninhibited response to him, her lack of modesty that gave him free reign with her body and her pleasure. And eventually, his, too.
His mouth finally descended on hers. Their first kiss had been a slow, easy exploration, a way to distract her from something frightening, but not this time. They were both in it for the sole purpose of physical enjoyment, and there was a whole lot of her he wanted to savor. He sank his fingers into her soft, luxurious hair, wrapped the strands around his fist, and angled her mouth beneath his for a hotter, deeper taste.
The kiss was a prolonged one by conscious choice, minutes longer than he normally spent on a woman’s mouth. Lips interlocked and tongues tangled, moving in a sensual rhythm, easing in and out seductively, persuasively. Again and again. Natalie made a soft, purring sound in the back of her throat, which turned into a mewl of protest when he finally, reluctantly released her mouth from his . . . but only so he could nuzzle his face against her neck, trail his damp tongue up to her ear, and demand what he wanted next from her.
“Pull the top of your dress down so I can see and taste your gorgeous tits,” he rasped, then lifted his head so he could see her face and watch this normally rebellious woman obey his order.
Her lips were wet and swollen, her eyes dark and aroused as they looked into his. She raised her hands to the elastic neckline of her French maid costume, slid the short sleeves a quarter of the way down both arms, then pulled the stretchy material over her full breasts, revealing those twin beauties to his avid gaze. He filled both palms with the soft, supple flesh, kneading them until they were firm in his hands, then rolled her tight nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
Big Shot Page 7
