by Joya Ryan
Playing dirty can be the best kind of fun…
Chloe Franklin wouldn’t call herself a commitment-phobe, so much as she’s allergic to anything long term. She loves the sexy, sweaty, and intensely hot hours of the night that come before the sun rises, though. Especially when those nights are spent with Search-and-Rescuer Gage McGraw…
Gage loves his job, but there is one thing he’s starting to like more than the rush of a mission—a stacked blonde with a mouth that haunts his dreams. Every time he steps foot in the sleepy town of Beaufort, he hooks up with Chloe. But he’s tired of hooks-ups. He wants more.
Just the sight of Gage gets Chloe’s blood going. Hot, bothered, and finally naked, she’s ready for their night to start. But before he takes her, he whispers what his intentions really are…and then the games really begin.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Joya Ryan. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 109
Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.
Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit www.brazenbooks.com.
Edited by Stephen Morgan & Ava Jae
Cover design by Heather Howland
Cover art from iStock
ISBN 978-1-63375-466-9
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition November 2015
To Brett
I’m so proud of you. You’re a pain in the ass sometimes, but you’re the best brother in the world and I love you like crazy. You always make me laugh and no matter what, I have your back. This may be a romance novel, but I dedicate it to you anyway because secretly, deep down, I know you read them.
Love you, buddy!
Chapter One
Gage McGraw took a pull from his beer then set the long bottle down on the bar. He spun the brown glass on the counter and watched the alcohol swish inside.
Christ, he was nervous. So nervous he was fucking fidgeting.
He was a New Yorker, so the small-town bar he was in shouldn’t have affected him. He’d been in Beaufort, North Carolina a handful of times. It might not be large, but the area was built on a wide variety of outdoor activities. Between the ocean, forest, and vast terrain, tourists flocked to this haven of adventure yearly. Which, unfortunately, meant that every summer people braved the mountains and got lost.
That was where he came in as a lead member of the Search & Rescue team. He traveled the country a lot, usually on missions to track, find, and recover. It was what he did best; what he loved. After getting shrapnel in the leg and being honorably discharged from the military a few years ago, it was also the only job he could do that allowed him to use the skills the US government had taught him.
The local S&R team now taught a survival skills boot camp for anyone going into the mountains without a guide. Plenty of people still got lost, but at least this year the boot camps seemed to have done some good, because when Gage had arrived, there hadn’t been any immediate S&Rs to perform. Instead, his boss said he’d be spending the next few weeks training new S&R recruits.
Which was where tonight’s waiting game at the bar came in. A little free time meant he had a chance to focus on the thing he’d been obsessing over since an S&R last month had nearly cost him his life.
He’d been out searching for a lost climber in the mountains. He’d found him at the bottom of a cliff, his leg broken, the person barely hanging on. So Gage had put on his harness, climbed down the rocky wall, told the climber not to worry, he would be right there—
And the harness that’d been holding him over a fifty-foot drop had snapped. His fingernails dug hopelessly into the rock as he plummeted down the side of the damn mountain and dropped off into the open air, nothing to stop his fall but the hard ground far below.
It was stupid, dumb luck that his flailing hand had found the rope hanging above him.
It’d hit him then—the reality of his mortality. It’d never bothered him before; being injured or dying went hand in hand with rescuing people from dangerous situations. But this had been more. He didn’t have anyone permanent in his life—who would his team have told if he hadn’t walked away? Who would care? He didn’t have a family or a girlfriend. If he’d died, no one would have missed him.
He was here to change that.
He’d come back into town and to this bar with a plan that would take longer than a weekend to carry out. Damn if he wasn’t nervous, though. He could use a little stress relief.
Small town or not, Honey’s was always busy. The restaurant and bar was where the whole town seemed to hang out. There was a sense of community here. With locals hovering around the pool tables, fried food, and good music, he couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like to set down some roots here. Have a place and a person to come home to.
“Vodka cranberry please,” a sultry voice said to the bartender. Gage glanced to his left, where a tall blonde shimmied her way in and placed her hands on the counter.
The woman spared him a glance. Barely. But enough to catch a glimpse of the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. She tapped her fingers on the bar and leaned forward, waiting to be served.
She was lithe and lean, with curves in all the right places. Her short denim skirt barely covered her ass. Her tank top was simple and black. The thin straps would take little more than a tug of his finger to break. Two seconds was all he’d need to have those high, round breasts bared for his mouth—
“Never seen a woman before, city boy?” she asked.
Shit—he was staring. Gage hid his flush with a smile and recovered quickly.
“I’ve seen plenty of women.” He grabbed his beer and faced her. “Which is why I know when to appreciate an exceptionally fine one.”
That got her to look at him. He unleashed a grin he knew firsthand could melt panties, and he waited for her to swoon.
To her credit, she didn’t.
She looked him over, those stern emeralds pausing on his chest, then lower. She might be playing coy now, but there was heat in her eyes. He felt it with every sweep of her gaze. And boom! There it was. The lip bite.
She tugged that plump bottom flesh between her teeth so quickly he almost missed it. She was definitely sizing him up right back. And judging by the way she wet her lips, she liked what she saw.
The bartender placed her drink in front of her.
“Put it on my tab,” Gage said, and the bartender nodded.
“Dishing pretty compliments and buying me a drink won’t get you what you’re after,” she said.
He drank his beer. With his feet on the floor, he opened his knees and relaxed back in his seat. When someone bumped into her and she shifted toward him, effectively planting her hips between his legs, he smiled.
“Really? How do you know what I’m after?”
She took a drink. The ice clinked in her glass, and he caught a whiff of tart cranberries. She was sweet and sour in all the best ways—he could fucking smell it. Now if he could just taste it…
“I’m a pretty good judge of people.” She shrugged. “I can also read your mind.”
“That right?” He slung one elbow on the back of his bar seat and moved his knee enough to brush along her outer thigh. “Well, I do already have you in a house. Surely there must b
e bedrooms around here.”
The restaurant they were in had a unique layout. It was a massive old Victorian house turned into the local watering hole complete with bar, tables, and multiple rooms. There was even an indoor balcony. The second floor nestled right above them was meant for large parties, but it was currently closed off and dark.
“But we can talk more about bedtime later. By all means, don’t leave me in suspense with your mind-reading skills,” he finished.
Her green gaze slowly slid along his body; that sinful expression had his cock throbbing.
“You come across as casual, but you clearly like control.” She tilted her head, examining him further. “You’re strong. Hold a sense of command. You issue an order and expect it to be followed.”
He clenched his fist to keep from reaching out to touch her. She was easily pegging down details about him few people knew.
“If I issued an order, would you follow it?” he countered.
She smiled. “Nope.” She leaned in, and her mouth brushed his earlobe. “But you’d like that. You want a woman a little dirty, naughty, and able to take it rough.”
“What makes you think I’m rough?” he rasped.
She glanced at his free hand, then his chest. “Because judging by the way you’re holding your breath and grinding your teeth, you’re barely holding back from tossing me on this bar and taking me right here.” She shook her head slightly, letting the silky blond strands fall down her back. “I think you’d like a little fight in your woman.”
Every muscle he had flexed. Ready to prove her right. “Clearly you’d have some fight in you.”
She nodded. “I just don’t know if you can handle it, city boy.”
“Oh, I can bend you to my will.”
“Prove it.”
That shot his semihard cock to full attention. Her nearness was enough to make his whole body tense, ready to take her now. She was daring him to be rough with her, and she was right—he liked it hard. A little begging. A little pain. And a hell of a lot of pleasure.
The kind of power she wielded over him should drive him crazy, but it didn’t. She was different than any woman he’d ever been with. She excited him easily and made herself a challenge. And damn, did he like every second of it.
She took another drink, and condensation from her glass dripped onto her cleavage. He licked his lips—God, how he wanted to catch that droplet with his tongue. But before he came up with another witty line, she finished her vodka, turned, and walked away without a word.
No fucking way was he letting her go.
Hot on her heels, he bounded after her. He followed her into the shadows, went around the back of the bar, and strode quickly until he finally found her edging into a shadowy corner.
“You’re walking away from me, huh?” he said.
She opened a side door, arched an eyebrow at him over her shoulder, and climbed the stairs. He followed her up, and his heart pounded as they neared the closed-down balcony over the bar. Twenty-five feet below them, everyone enjoyed themselves, none the wiser that he was with a sexy woman in the dark above.
She moved to one of the booths hiding in the shadows, and he grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. A lusty hue lit up her eyes.
“You’re chasing me?” she whispered.
He moved her against the wall, kicked her feet apart with his, and pressed his body against hers. The loud crowd from downstairs echoed around them, but he held her tight in the shadows. This was it. He was going to take her right there. And she was going to let him.
More, she was going to like it. He could see it in the way she licked her lips. She was as hungry for him as he was for her.
He scraped his jean-clad knee along the insides of her spread thighs. Even with the barrier of their clothes, her heat surrounded him.
“I’ve been chasing you for a while.” He pushed her skirt up, grabbed the back of her thighs, and lifted her. She wrapped those long legs around him, and damn it felt good. Gage glanced down. She wasn’t wearing panties. He smiled and whispered against her lips, “And it looks like you missed me too, Chloe.”
“I have,” she breathed. “But I like making you work for it.”
Yeah, he liked working for it, too. These little games they played never got old. Whenever he was back in town, they pretended it was their first time. Though the stretch before they gave in to each other had dwindled down to minutes.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He had her in his arms, and it was time he properly reacquainted himself with her body.
Chloe clutched Gage. Ever since their first encounter two years ago, her life had been one wild, sex-crazed weekend at a time.
The perfect thing about Gage was he was as allergic to commitment as she was. Their sporadic rendezvous a few times a year was the kind of setup she could handle. She could commit to her life, the town she loved, and the people in it. But a man? She’d seen what her mother went through with her father. She’d loved him until the day she died, even after he’d left both of them years ago.
Chloe had tried dating men once she’d gone out on her own, and they’d all shown her the same thing. None of them had any staying power—at least not for her.
No, never commit to a man. She’d never become so attached to someone that she’d pine for them long after they were gone. Which was why Gage was so perfect.
He was a one weekend at a time kind of guy, and they had clear expectations. Sure, he was the only man she’d been with since she met him two years ago, but it didn’t mean anything. He was just so good at what he did to her that she didn’t need anyone else until he came back around again. She would never wait for him.
He was back in town, and now it was time for a fix. Simple.
Gage was strong, confident, and sexy as sin. He took her over and made her feel more than passion, more than heat, more than anything she could explain. He let her be strong while making her beg. Never in all the blissful weekends they’d spent together did he take it easy on her. She loved his dark and rough side, and he delivered every time.
She needed another taste to last her until next time he blew into town. That was all.
“You dressed for me,” he whispered against her mouth. “I like it.” Truth was, normally she was a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl. But when Gage came around, she often spent an hour tearing through her closet thinking of the perfect outfit. But he didn’t need to know that.
“I didn’t dress up, just figured this was easy access. It’s all about logistics, after all.”
“Uh-huh.” He grinned, gripped her thigh harder, and bit her neck. She wove her fingers into his hair and sighed as he nibbled on her skin.
“So it’s all about the sex?” he asked.
She nodded. “Well, yeah.”
He scoffed and ran his lips along her collarbone. She tugged tightly on his hair—he grabbed her arm in a flash and pinned it to her side.
“Getting wild already, sweetheart?” he growled against her breasts, then bit her tank top.
Her breath hitched in her throat. “Maybe.” She scraped her heel against his ass like a spur. He pushed her harder into the wall and cupped her throat with his free hand.
This was what she wanted. The kind of fix only he could give. He took away her need for control and gave her the freedom to simply feel. Let her experience nothing but pleasure. All of her stress and sadness vanished for a night at a time whenever Gage was around. She got out her aggression—and he got her off in a way she’d never experienced with another.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked getting tossed around a bit.” He gently squeezed her neck. Not enough to hurt, but the calluses on his palms scratched the sensitive column of her throat when she swallowed.
“You know I do,” she said. “And you like giving it rough as much as I like taking it.” She lifted her chin, looking deeply into the dark pools of his eyes. “Good line in there by the way,” she said and crushed her mouth against his. He plunged his tongu
e inside and kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in four months—which he hadn’t. She loved the urgency and lust behind his every move.
“I meant every word,” he said between heavy breaths. “You bit your lip and I thought I’d toss you on the counter and fuck you right there.”
She moaned—God, how she wanted him to have her right now.
“You know what that does to me.” He yanked down her tank top and latched onto a nipple. “I’ll play your little games, but you took it too far. I could barely stay in my seat.”
With both her hands free now, she grabbed his lower back and yanked him closer. His hips pushed against her thighs until the dull pain of forming bruises stung her skin. She wanted more. She loved the ache—the promise of wild still to come.
He held her tightly, but she moved however she could. Rocking against his hard-on, brushing her face against his stubble, running her hands through his hair, anything to get that zing of contact. It’d been so long since she felt him—she was about to explode. In a few seconds, she’d get off with little more than a skillfully placed grind.
“You show up, no panties, no bra, and you know what happens?” He sucked on her sensitive peak.
“I hope you fucking me happens, because I can’t wait.”
She spurred her heel against his ass again, begging for more. Calling out the dominant side she loved so much. And he rose to the request.
“No waiting for you, sweetheart,” he rasped. He yanked her off the wall and pressed her stomach-first onto the ground, facing the balcony ledge. Gage gathered her wrists and held them firmly against the small of her back.
She wiggled to test his strength—he was unbendable. Her tank top was pulled up to her neck, and the cold wood floor pressing against her bare breasts sent shivers down her spine. A cool draft hit the exposed cleft of her ass.
He had her pinned. Laid out flat and pinned.
“You see them all down there? How many of those people do you know?” he whispered in her ear.
She lifted the side of her face off the floor enough to glance down over the ledge. It was impossible to move much, but she wiggled anyway, daring him to tighten his hold. Like a boa constrictor delivering little pulses of strength as he slowly stole her struggle. Wetness flashed between her legs and sensitized her skin another degree.
