What A Girl Wants (Harlequin Blaze)

by Jamie Sobrato

  And maybe knowing what made him tick would give her some insight about why he was so sexually irresistible to her. Or maybe not. But at least talking about something besides sex might keep her mind off of it.

  “I’m still waiting for you to tell me more about where you grew up.”

  Luke glanced over at her and smirked. “There’s not much more to tell. I was a street punk—drove my poor mom crazy. Our neighborhood might have been a clean working-class one when we first moved there, but by the time I was a teenager, the only way to survive was to be more intimidating than the other street punks.”

  “So how did you go from troublemaker to security specialist?”

  “My mother would have killed me if I hadn’t done well in school, and school was pretty easy for me, so I kept my grades up. And the baseball coach at school took an interest in me and talked me into joining the team freshman year. By senior year, I had a scholarship offer from the University of Texas.”

  “That’s how you ended up living in Texas?”

  “Partly. I joined the army for a few years after college, but I found out I didn’t like blindly taking orders, so I got out and went back to Miami. A guy I’d worked for in the army had started a security-consulting business in South Florida, and he hired me to work with him. After a few years of that, I was ready to go it alone, and since a lot of my acquaintances from college had settled in Dallas, I figured I’d try starting a business here.”

  “Plus lots of people with too much money live here.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Is your dad still in Texas, too?”

  He nodded. “And my mom’s still in Miami, remarried and living in one of those retirement communities.”

  The waitress brought their drinks, a glass of red wine for Luke and a Coke for Jane.

  “I never would have labeled you a wine drinker,” Jane said after the waitress left.

  “And I never would have labeled you a Coke drinker.”

  “I’m a bit of a caffeine addict. Coffee, Coca-Cola, chocolate—all my favorites.” She’d always found that aspect of her personality frustrating. Try as she might, she couldn’t help but find comfort in a strong dose of caffeine—or a well-timed Hostess snack cake, if she was feeling particularly stressed out.

  “Let me guess. Caffeine helps you write?”

  Jane nodded, suppressing a smile. “I’ve been wondering,” she said, eager to divert attention away from herself again. “Is Michael a catch for my sister?”

  “Michael’s all right—he has his priorities in life kind of screwed up, but he’s decent at heart.”

  “I’m glad. Heather needs a decent man. She’s dated a lot of jerks.”

  “What about you? Have you dated a lot of jerks that led you to write The Sex Factor?” His eyes sparkled with amusement or interest—Jane couldn’t tell which.

  Jane shrugged. She got that question a lot. “Maybe a few, but my serious boyfriends have been nice guys.”

  Luke narrowed his eyes at her as if reading her thoughts. “I’ll bet you go for sensitive new-age types. Guys that do yoga and talk about French philosophers.”

  That he’d just described her last boyfriend annoyed the hell out of Jane for reasons she didn’t want to analyze. “I don’t go for a certain type,” she lied.

  “Right, you look for a guy’s inner beauty, regardless of the outer package.”

  Jane squirmed in her seat. Had he read that in her book somewhere? “Something like that.”

  “So if I were a hundred-pound geek with bad teeth and a raging acne problem, you still would have kissed me in your parents’ bathroom?”

  He was looking far too amused with himself. Jane’s insides fluttered at another reminder of the bathroom incident. She was all too aware of the fact that Luke seemed perfectly willing to go at it for another round, if given the chance.

  “Whatever happened earlier tonight—it was a mistake.” Brought on by raging hormones, she resisted adding, since it would prove how bad she really was at taking her own relationship advice.

  “Does that mean I won’t be getting a good-night kiss?”

  Jane smiled, a sudden image of her dragging Luke in her front door and stripping him naked clear in her mind. And then she blurted, “I never said I’m not prone to making the same mistake twice.”

  5

  Your girlfriend doesn’t need you to get a penis implant. If you want to impress her, try listening to her when she talks.

  —Jane Langston, in the December issue of Excess magazine

  LUKE WATCHED the color rise from Jane’s neck to her cheeks. Her entire face turned a rosy shade that suggested she was far less confident than she pretended to be. He had to admire the good front she put up though, even when her own jokes came back to bite her in the ass.

  He had every intention of getting his good-night kiss. Ever since they’d left her parents’ bathroom, he’d been plagued by memories of those few brief moments—the taste and scent of Jane, the feel of her skin, the heat of her body, the eagerness of her kiss. It had taken all his willpower to put the brakes on, to pretend it didn’t drive him crazy that he hadn’t gotten to bury his tongue inside her.

  His attraction to her had a force behind it that he was helpless to control. He wanted her more than he could remember having wanted anything for a very long time. And what Luke wanted, he usually found a way to have.

  “Gotta admire your honesty,” he finally said, breaking the silence he’d allowed to settle between them. “Since you’re being honest, how about admitting that what took place in the bathroom was all about a release of pent-up sexual desire?”

  The waitress arrived with their dinners, and after offering fresh-ground pepper and parmesan, she departed.

  Jane stared at her manicotti and said, “Okay, if you want me to admit that I’m a bit weak, I will. Maybe I’m not as self-controlled as I advise women to be in my book. Maybe, in that one little area, I’m a little unforgiving and harsh in my advice. Okay? Are you satisfied?”

  Luke tried not to look surprised. He’d just gotten a glimpse of what he suspected was the real Jane, the one behind the attitude. “Not quite, but it’s a start.”

  She stabbed her fork into a pasta tube, and ricotta spewed out one end of it.

  “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you don’t know much about women?”

  “Honey, I’ve never left a woman unsatisfied.”

  “How do you know they haven’t been faking it?”

  Luke repressed a smile. “A real man can always tell the difference.”

  She eyed him doubtfully. “Can you say that about her physical and emotional fulfillment?”

  “Definitely. Would you like references?”

  Okay, so he’d probably have to leave some of his early relationships off the reference list, but the women he’d dated seriously couldn’t have had much bad to say about him. He simply hadn’t found Miss Right yet, and most of his more recent breakups had been mutually agreed upon.

  “I’ll pass for now,” she muttered to her pasta as she prepared to take a bite.

  Luke had a thing about the way women ate. He couldn’t enjoy dinner himself if his date was picking at a salad and sipping water. Jane ate like a real human being, and he couldn’t quite explain why he found it so charming that she hadn’t hesitated to order one of the most fattening dishes on the menu at his recommendation.

  He decided to let her off the hook and avoid any more controversial topics for the rest of dinner. They managed to carry on a pleasant conversation about nothing in particular, and by the time dinner was finished, Luke couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much on a date.

  It wasn’t just that Jane was attractive and intelligent—she was both—it was something more. Being with her made him feel like a gap had been filled in, as though something that had been missing from his life was suddenly present. Too bad she was also the woman who’d written what was possibly one of the dumbest self-help books ever published.
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  They drove back to her place in companionable silence, and Luke didn’t admit to himself until he’d pulled into her driveway how badly he wanted to take her inside and make love to her all night on that brand-new leather sofa of hers.

  He wanted her physically for reasons he couldn’t articulate, reasons that had little to do with proving her wrong. He normally wouldn’t have been ready to hop into bed with a woman he’d only just met, but something about Jane made him think of tribal drum beats, sultry nights in the jungle, finding creative uses for vines. He wanted to get in touch with his Tarzan side and claim Jane as his woman.

  Yeah, he was thinking crazy, but he knew what he wanted, and it was the woman sitting in his passenger seat.

  Without asking, he got out and walked her to the door, a little surprised that she didn’t protest. When she’d found her keys inside her purse, she looked up at him and seemed to be searching for something to say.

  She finally asked, “Do you want some coffee?”

  Luke crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “Do you really mean coffee, or is that female code for an invitation to bed?”

  Not that it mattered—he’d come in either way—but he couldn’t help baiting her.

  “You’re lucky I don’t have any real pepper spray on my key chain.”

  “Believe me, I know.”

  She smiled and unlocked the door. “Just come in and stop grilling me, okay?”

  “Okay, cease-fire.”

  The front door reminded him of his official duties as Jane’s bodyguard. Luke was ashamed to admit to himself that he’d let her security slip his mind all evening. For the first time, he realized his attraction to her could possibly be a detriment to Jane’s safety, but he vowed not to let his guard slip again.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said once they’d entered the kitchen, “are you free tomorrow for me to install a decent security system in the house?”

  She turned to him from the refrigerator, where she’d just removed a package of coffee beans, and gave him a strange look. “Tomorrow is Sunday. Don’t you take days off?”

  “Criminals don’t take Sundays off.”

  “Um, I just planned to hang around the house and finish unpacking, hang photos, stuff like that. I guess it’s a good time for you to come by.”

  He watched as she measured out the beans and ground them up with a little hand grinder, then poured the grounds into a high-tech coffeemaker. She wasn’t kidding when she’d confessed her passion for caffeine.

  “So, why did you invite me in?” he asked, and her eyes flashed anger.

  “What happened to the cease-fire?”

  “Oh, right. I forgot.” He closed the distance between them, his body temperature rising with each step he took, then pinned her against the kitchen counter with his hips. “If you want to know the truth, I lied about the cease-fire.”

  She gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes, managing to look both aroused and annoyed at the same time. “Forgive me if I don’t look surprised.”

  “I keep wondering what would have happened if we’d kept going in your parents’ bathroom.”

  “But we didn’t,” she whispered, sounding a little breathless.

  Beside them, the coffee began to percolate, its rich scent filling the air.

  “You’re a writer. Don’t you like to ask what-if questions?”

  “I don’t write fiction.”

  Luke slid his hands up her rib cage and traced the lower halves of her breasts. His cock instantly went hard.

  “But let’s just pretend,” he murmured as he rubbed his thumbs over her hardened nipples. “If you hadn’t stopped me…”

  “But I did,” she nearly moaned.

  “Would you have let me dip my tongue inside you? Taste your hot, wet center…” He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply.

  She clung to him and thrust her tongue inside his mouth. Luke tasted her heat and the mints the waitress had brought them after dinner, and he breathed her in, consumed her, unable to restrain for another second the force that pulled them together. When he felt her hands slip inside the waist of his shirt and up his back, he knew by the way his body turned liquid with sensation that he wouldn’t be able to put the brakes on if she didn’t stop them herself.

  And he hoped like hell she wouldn’t. He was crazy with wanting her. Maybe a night with Jane would clear his head, make him better equipped to focus on protecting her.

  But then she broke the kiss, and asked, breathlessly, “Are you doing this to prove me wrong, or because you want to?”

  Luke tugged gently on her hair, until her chin tilted up, offering him easy access to her flawless neck. He sucked on the side of her neck, then moved to the spot just below her ear, and then up to her ear itself. After giving the lobe a light nip, he whispered, “Both.”

  If she had a problem with his dual motives, her hand sliding down the front of his pants didn’t reveal it. Luke’s breath caught when she found the tip of his cock and teased it with her fingertips.

  Only a few inches from his mouth, her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and she gazed into his eyes with a look of complete daring. She inched her hand down until she had a firm grip on him, and she began to massage his flesh, coaxing a low moan from his throat.

  “Then tonight,” she whispered, “is not your lucky night.”

  Her hand withdrew from his pants, and a wicked little smile danced on her lips.

  Luke blinked. He’d just been played, but he wasn’t quite ready to end the game.

  “Can you blame me for wanting to prove that men aren’t just sex-obsessed morons?”

  “I never said you were, but I fail to see how hopping into bed with me will cast mankind in a more positive light.”

  Luke held back a smile and pressed his hips against her, then slid his thigh between her legs until he knew he was putting pressure where it mattered most. “It’s all part of my long-term plan.”

  Ignoring the body contact, she quirked an eyebrow. “You have long-term plans for me?”

  “I don’t expect to change your mind in one night.” Though he was pretty sure he could if he applied himself. He just didn’t see any need to rush things along.

  She let her gaze fall to his jeans, then slowly travel upward. “How many nights do you think it would take?”

  “Depends on how stubborn you are about changing your mind.”

  Some part of him hoped she’d be really, really stubborn.

  He found her nipple again, which he teased with the lightest of caresses.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t hide the way her body was reacting. Her breath had grown shallow, and when she spoke again, her question came out in a whisper. “What makes you so sure you can succeed?”

  He shrugged and dipped his hand into the neckline of her shirt, inside her bra to her bare, hot flesh. “Call me confident.”

  “How about arrogant and presumptuous?” she said, but she didn’t shy away from his touch.

  “I like confident better.”

  Her eyelids fluttered shut as he explored her flesh. “That’s not fair.”

  “What isn’t fair?” Luke asked, as he trailed his other hand down her hip and over her thigh, up her skirt. He dipped his fingers between her legs and under her panties and found her so exquisitely hot and wet, the desire to plunge himself inside her was almost unbearable. Instead, he entered her tight opening with his fingertips, and she made an animal sound in her throat.

  “That,” she whispered.

  “I never said I’d keep it above the belt,” he said before kissing her again.

  He coaxed her into submission with his tongue, and as he worked her body with his hands, he was quite sure he’d won the battle… Until she broke the kiss again and grasped his wrists.

  “We’ve got to stop this,” she said, out of breath.

  Beside them, the coffee had finished percolating. A rich coffee-bean aroma permeated the air, and Luke knew that from then on, the scent
would have a distinctly erotic association for him.

  His body, tense with pent-up desire, suddenly felt electrified.

  “You’re sure?”

  She expelled a ragged breath. “Hell no. But we’re not doing this. Not here, not now, not so you can prove me wrong.”

  Luke let his hands fall to his sides, and he took a step back from her. “How about so we can have a night of great sex?”

  Jane smoothed down her skirt and tossed him a wry look. “Stop trying to catch me in a contradiction.”

  “I’m just trying to get you into bed. No hidden motives.” He smiled, and with a bit of resistance, she smiled back.

  “We’d regret it in the morning.”

  “Speak for yourself,” he answered, and Jane diverted her gaze to the coffeepot, her cheeks blushing scarlet.

  Luke realized for the first time that maybe she wasn’t nearly as relaxed about his advances as he’d assumed.

  She busied herself with pouring coffee. “Still want a cup?”

  “I think I’ve got plenty to keep me awake tonight without caffeine. I’d better go.”

  Jane shrugged, clearly pleased with his state of arousal. “Suit yourself.”

  “I’ll be here around ten o’clock. Try not to do anything life-endangering, like jogging alone in the woods, before I get here.”

  She didn’t make any biting comebacks as she walked him to the door, and when Luke stepped out into the cool night air, then heard the door close behind him, his body relaxed a bit. Away from Jane, he could think a little straighter. He could stop the “Me Tarzan, you Jane, let’s go have wild sweaty jungle sex” thinking.

  He could even think about something besides sex.

  Maybe.

  JANE SAT AT HER COMPUTER, a cup of coffee steaming nearby and a chocolate chip bagel with cream cheese in one hand. She’d eaten one halfhearted bite of her breakfast, and so far she’d written two entire sentences. In the past hour. She’d risen early in the hope of catching up on the writing time she’d lost because of Luke, but the events of the night before haunted her.