by Lori Foster
“Open up.” Pete tried to emulate Gil, to present himself in a calm, civilized manner. “You alone in there?” he snarled.
Her eyes were huge and round in the early morning light. “No, I have the Dallas Cowboys all tucked into my bed. It’s a squeeze, but we’re managing.”
Pete sucked in a breath. “Cassidy…”
“Of course I’m alone, you idiot.” Her frowning gaze darted around the yard in confusion. “What time is it?”
She was alone. The tension eased out of Pete, making his knees weak. “I dunno, seven or so.” The chill morning air frosted his breath and prickled his skin into goose bumps. “Time to get up and keep your neighbor company.”
“Seven!”
He took five steps and looked at her through the screen. She had a bad case of bedhead and her eyes were puffy, still vague with sleep. She looked tumbled and tired and his heart softened with a strange, deep thump. “Open up, Cassidy.”
Still confused, not that he blamed her, she rubbed her eyes, pushed her hair out of her face. “Yeah, all right. Keep your pants on.” She started to turn away.
“What fun will that be?”
Her head snapped back around. Seconds ticked by before she said, “Get away from my window, you perv. I have to get dressed.”
The thump turned into a hard, steady pulse. “Don’t bother on my account.”
But she’d already walked away, so she missed his sentiments on the matter. Pete thought about peeking, knew he wouldn’t and went back to the door to wait. Impatience hummed in his veins. He was a man on a mission, a man driven by testosterone and the ancient, savage need to stake a claim.
The fluorescent kitchen light flickered on and seconds later, her door slid open.
Assuming he’d come in without a greeting, Cassidy slunk away to the sink to start the coffee. Around an enormous yawn, she asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you up so early?”
Pete soaked in the sight of her. Now seeing her with new eyes—new lusty eyes—he realized just how appealing she appeared with her long hair hanging in ropes around her shoulders and her skin flushed and warm. Plaid flannel pants hugged her behind and her black tank top molded to her breasts. Her feet were bare, her toes curled against the tile floor.
With the morning air so cool, her nipples had puckered.
Puckered nipples had never taken out his knees before, but now Pete groped for a chair so he wouldn’t collapse into a horny heap in the middle of her kitchen. Like Pavlov’s dog, his mouth started watering. He could just imagine pulling that skimpy top up and over her head, baring her breasts, taking a plump nipple into his mouth…
In between measuring out fragrant coffee grounds, Cassidy glanced up at him. “Pete?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, staring in awe at those breasts, mesmerized by the possibilities. He’d never really thought about her breasts before. But boy, she had them. Nice ones, too. Sort of small but perky, like the rest of her.
Someone had touched that lush little firm body just last night. Someone other than him. Pete hated that thought.
“So I don’t get to sleep, either?” The coffeemaker started to hiss and spit. Cassidy pulled out a chair and slumped boneless in her seat, putting her head on her folded arms. Thick, curly hair went everywhere.
Pete didn’t think about it—he just reached across the table and drew his fingers across a long tendril, feeling the texture, the weight and warmth. He was close enough, so he leaned forward and brought it to his nose, breathing in the fragrance of her shampoo.
Cassidy froze. By small degrees, she tipped her face up until her eyes were visible above her forearm and she could lock gazes with him. He still had hold of her hair, still had it pressed to his nose.
She rose up a bit more. “Uh…Pete?”
Neither of them blinked. “Yeah?” He sounded hoarse, but damn, her hair was soft and sweet—as erogenous as her silky skin or a peek at that luscious behind. He imagined how her hair would feel slipping over his chest, his stomach, his thighs…He dropped his hand and sat back.
Cassidy continued to stare at him. As if moving away from a dangerous animal, she slowly pressed her spine into the back of her seat. Her breasts were soft and round under the clinging shirt, trembling with her fast breaths. Her tight little nipples jutted forward.
Pete tried, without much effort, to keep his attention on her face. It was futile.
Cassidy shoved back her chair. “I’ll, ah, I’ll be right back.”
Pete stared up at her with a sense of déjà vu. “Where’re you going?”
“I have to…brush my teeth and stuff.” She ran off before he could stop her.
Pete got up and paced. He felt insane, a little lost, and a whole lot aroused. Once the coffee finished dripping, he poured two cups, doctoring Cassidy’s the same way she always took it, with lots of sugar and cream. He even rummaged through her cabinet and found some prepackaged brownies, knowing she’d want one.
He was leaning against the sink, sipping his coffee and thinking of the deliciously depraved things he wanted to do to her, when she shyly came back into the kitchen. Pete stalled with the cup to his mouth.
She hadn’t changed clothes, but she’d brushed out her hair and neatly braided it, leaving flirty little curls to tease her temples, her nape. Her face was pink, her lips shiny with clear gloss.
She’d fixed up for him?
Very slowly, Pete set his coffee aside. “I was thinking, Cassidy…”
She swallowed hard and charged into the room, grabbing her coffee with near desperation. After downing half of it, she wiped her mouth and in the process removed most of the gloss she’d just applied. Pete grinned. She was…adorable.
How come he’d never noticed that before? He remembered how, as soon as he knew Ariel wanted Sam, he stopped thinking of her sexually. She became family to him. Had he done that with Cassidy, relegating her to the category of friend and not allowing himself to think of her in any other way? He hadn’t wanted to screw up with Ariel, to alienate her or his brother. And God knew he valued Cassidy’s friendship too much to risk it.
Visibly bracing herself, Cassidy prompted him, saying, “Yeah? You were thinking?”
Usually they were comfortable with each other, but now she seemed edgy. Pete didn’t like that, so he decided to ease into things.
“Are you dating anyone?” When she said yes, then Pete could suggest she date him, and they could move on from there.
But Cassidy shook her head. “You know I’m not.”
Pete drew back, narrowing his eyes in thought. “You can tell me anything, you know. We’re…friends.”
“Sure.” When Pete just waited, she said, “I don’t have time to date.”
Pete blinked. If she wasn’t dating, then it had been what—a one-night stand? No. He shook his head. Cassidy wasn’t into those any more than he was.
He decided to approach the idea of sex from a different angle. “You didn’t come over to watch the movie with me last night.”
She blushed. Blushed. What was that about?
“I know.” She shifted her feet. “I had…other stuff to do.”
Yeah, he knew what other stuff—like moaning out an orgasm. He locked his jaw and clenched his teeth. “Another guy to see?”
The blush gave way to frowning annoyance. “I just said no, didn’t I?”
“But…” Why was she fudging the truth? “You’re saying you didn’t have a date last night?”
Exasperation sharpened her tone. “How many ways can I say it, Pete? I’m not dating anyone. I haven’t had a date in a year. You see me every damned day, so I’d think you’d know it.”
No date. Pete stood there for fifteen seconds before other ideas started squeezing past his confusion. Ho boy.
If she hadn’t been with a guy, that meant she’d been alone when he heard that soft, excited, and sexual moan. And if she’d been alone and moaning like that, then she’d been…
His abdomen clenched with sexual imag
es so vivid he thought he might collapse. Tenderness rolled over him, too. She’d been alone. All by herself. He stared at her, feeling both soft in the heart and hard in the crotch.
Bless her heart. He wanted to smile and hold her. He wanted to strip her naked and pull her down to the floor.
It was still up in the air exactly what he’d do, but he knew where to start. Throbbing with need, Pete took a small step toward her. “If I kissed you—”
Her eyes widened. “You’re going to kiss me?”
Shock made her look almost comical. “If I did, what would you do?”
Her mouth opened twice before she whispered, “I don’t know.”
“Would you slap me?”
That had her frowning again. “No.”
He took another step toward her. “Would you push me away?”
Cheeks flushed with warm color, she shook her head. “Of course not.”
“Great.” Pete moved closer still. He took her coffee cup and set it on the counter. “What would you do?”
She stared up at him, her blue-green eyes shining, her lips parted. “I’d kiss you back,” she said on a breathless gasp, and then she attacked him.
Pete staggered back from her assault. And it was an assault. She had a death grip on his neck, her mouth plastered to his so hard his lips were smashed against his teeth. The small of his back landed with jarring impact against the sharp edge of the counter.
“Mmmrrrmm.” Pete tried to speak, to tell her to slow down, but she wasn’t exactly a weak woman and he didn’t want to hurt her. When he tried to pull back, her fingers locked into his hair. Now that hurt.
Pete turned so she was the one nailed against the counter. He covered a breast with his hand.
That got her attention.
Got his, too. Boy, she felt good.
Cassidy freed his mouth and groaned, “Pete.”
Her eyes were closed, her heartbeat hammering madly against his palm. He smiled and said, “Cassidy.”
She tried to kiss him again, but Pete dodged her mouth. “Take it easy, okay? How about you just stand there looking like you look, and let me do the kissing?”
“Was…was I bad?”
“Maybe just a little out of practice.”
Her lashes lowered to hide her eyes. “Sorry. It’s been over a year.”
Shocked and appalled, Pete paused in his ascent toward her mouth. “A year since you’ve been kissed?”
“Yeah.” And then, defensively, “I’ve been busy.”
But not too busy to pleasure herself last night. Oh man, that was fodder for many fantasies to come. Had she been thinking of him? Now his toes were curling.
“Jesus, I’m glad I woke you up.” He pried her fingers out of his hair.
“Me, too.” She tried a grin. “So, uh, now what?”
A loaded question for sure. Pete caught her waist and hefted her up to the countertop. “That’s up to you, but I’d say you have a year’s worth of kissing to make up for.”
Cassidy smiled. “Then let’s get started.”
Chapter Three
Cassidy had to fight against swooning. All it took was a braid in her hair, and Pete wanted her? Who knew?
Her hair was so long that braiding it was an awkward pain in the butt, a lesson in flexibility, but hey, if it turned Pete into a ravening animal, she’d braid it every single day.
With her fanny on the countertop, she was able to look down at him. But he didn’t meet her gaze. No, he was staring at her chest. More specifically, her nipples, which even now were stiff against the thin material of her tank top.
It was a little embarrassing, definitely not something she was used to. She’d sort of figured on Pete being more a challenge.
Clearing her throat, Cassidy asked, “So did you come over here just for this?”
Distracted, he said, “Yeah.” And then his hands covered her breasts and his eyes closed as he murmured, “Damn, you feel good.”
She would have slid right off the counter except that Pete was there, standing between her knees, keeping her in place.
His thumbs brushed over her nipples and it felt so good, so electric, Cassidy slumped back and banged her head on the wall. Now half reclining, she used her elbows to support herself and absorbed the wonderful sensation of being touched by Pete Watson.
He leaned forward, murmured something low, and then his mouth was at her breast, his lips plucking at her nipple through the material of the shirt. Cassidy groaned and said, “I was thinking about this last night.”
“I know,” he whispered in between taunting little nips with his teeth.
That momentarily stumped her. “What do you mean, you know?”
He paused, his hands stilling on the hem of her shirt. His dark brown eyes looked velvety and warm when they met hers, then he shrugged and tugged the shirt above her breasts, baring her to his gaze. He swallowed and color slashed his cheekbones. “I was thinking it, too,” he admitted in husky tones. “Something happened between us yesterday, that’s all I meant.”
“Oh.”
His mouth, scalding hot and damp, closed around her stiffened nipple.
“Oh.” Cassidy arched her back, offering herself to him, amazed at the intensity of the feelings he gave her.
Pete sucked languidly. His tongue swirled around her, his teeth occasionally nipping before sucking softly again. “You taste good, Cassidy.”
She was in the most awkward position, cramped against the wall beside her sink, her legs half-dangling off the counter at either side of his lean hips. She couldn’t move much, couldn’t really lie down or sit up. “Pete?”
He switched to the other nipple, latching on hungrily before slowing down, teasing with his tongue and teeth. “Hmmm?”
“Let’s go to my bedroom.”
His head lifted. His eyes were almost black now, heavy-lidded. He was breathing hard, his lips wet. “Yeah.”
Before Cassidy could push off the counter, he put his arms around her hips and lifted, holding her tight to his chest, her legs around his waist as he made his way down the hall.
With one big hand splayed wide over her behind, Pete growled, “You know where this is headed, right?”
Hands braced on his shoulders, Cassidy gave him a blank look. The friction of his hard abdomen against the soft apex of her thighs was enough to leave her brainless. She nodded. “We’re going to have sex. At least I hope we are.”
Pete gave a rough laugh, surged into her room, and dumped her on her bed. He immediately followed her down, sprawling out over her, catching her hands and pinning them beside her head. “Damn right we are.” His smile faded. “But I have to know you won’t have regrets, Cassidy.”
“Why would I?” she asked, when what she really wanted to say was, Get on with it.
“We’re good friends.” Slowly, Pete leaned down and touched his mouth to hers. A tender, almost loving kiss. Not sexual so much as emotional. It confused and elated her.
Between soft, small kisses to her lips, her chin, her throat, he whispered, “Very good friends. I value that. You’re important to me. I don’t want things to get…weird between us.”
Meaning he didn’t want her to start getting clingy. She understood that. To a freewheeler like Pete, she must seem like a complete stick-in-the-mud. The sensible part of her brain nagged at her, saying it wasn’t too late to back out before she got hurt. But she’d been sensible all her life and damn it, she was lonely.
Eventually they’d part ways. In a year, two at the most, she’d have enough money saved, and enough experience, to open her own sports center. She couldn’t see Pete working for her, so their friendship would likely wane. She hated that reality, even as she accepted it.
He was interested now. She was more than interested. For once she snuffed her sensible thoughts and went for broke.
Cupping his face, she held him back. Her fingers sank into the cool, silky thickness of his dark hair while her thumbs stroked his cheeks, luxuriating in the rasp of beard
stubble, the lean hardness of his jaw. Cassidy smiled at him. It wasn’t easy and her lips felt stiff, but she managed it. “I have long-term goals, Pete. You know that, just as you know how determined I am. I’m not going to throw all my plans into the wind just because we sleep together.”
He looked far too serious and solemn. “Cassidy…”
“Shhh.” She leaned up and took his mouth, loving his taste, even loving him a little. “I want you. I think you want me.”
“You know I do.”
She let out a breath. “We’re both adults, both available, and as you said, we’re friends. I trust you, more than any other guy I know. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
He ducked his head, and for one agonizing moment, Cassidy thought he was going to pull away. Then he moved to her side and put his hand on her belly. “I guess it’ll have to be.”
She had no idea what he meant by that, but his fingers were on her bare skin, teasing her abdomen before dipping under the waistband of her flannel pants. His baby finger tickled her navel, making her muscles pull tight in reaction.
Pete leaned over her and took her mouth, somehow making a mere kiss so much more—deeper, hotter, more intimate. She was still assimilating the wonder of that when his fingers pressed lower, into her panties, then tangled with her pubic hair.
Against her mouth, he said, “No, don’t stiffen up.” His fingers felt hot, callused. “I’m sorry if I’m rushing things, but I’m dying to touch you.”
Dying to touch her. Cassidy sighed and parted her legs a bit. She wanted him to touch her. Everything about this felt magical: his delicious scent surrounding her, the heat of his muscled body pressed all along her side. The gentle, careful way his hands moved over her.
With his hand still cupping her mound, Pete rose on one elbow. “Look at me, Cass.”
It was a struggle to get her heavy eyes open and focused on his face. Their labored breaths seemed to find a matching rhythm. Pete stared at her, his eyes smoldering, intense, and his fingers parted her, gently stroking, easing—he sank one finger deep inside her.
