Nothing But Trouble

by Amy Andrews

  She nodded slowly, and he swore he could hear her breathing now, too. “Is this better?” Before he understood her intentions, she’d grabbed for the hem of the shirt and reefed it off over her head, tossing it on the ground.

  Fuck. No.

  Wade’s jaw dropped as she stood before him in a teeny tiny pair of purple satin panties and nothing else, her nipples hard and round as nickels. The papers slid from his fingertips, his cock just about shredding his fly to get out.

  This wasn’t what he’d meant about her changing.

  It was his turn to stare now. And stare he did, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides, his body swaying a little.

  “For fuck’s sake, Wade. Do you need an embossed handwritten invitation?”

  Hell no. He did not.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  CC’s heart drummed in her chest, and her hands shook as Wade strode toward her with absolute purpose in his eyes. She shouldn’t be doing this. She absolutely shouldn’t be.

  But her common sense had been waging a war with her body since she’d opened the door, and it had completely deserted about the time Wade had declared he’d wanted to brand her with his number.

  All she cared about was getting lost in him. She’d missed him so damn hard and the rest, right now, was bullshit. She knew having sex with him wasn’t going to solve anything. That’d probably only make her cravings for him worse.

  But she was a junkie, and Wade Carter was her drug of choice.

  Their bodies sparked as they met, their mouths sizzled as they meshed. His groan was like jet fuel to her system, and she all but climbed him, locking her legs around his waist. He smelled like the ocean and tasted like coffee, and she kissed him deep and hard and long, her head thrumming to the frantic beat of her heart.

  Somehow he made it to the nearby couch, collapsing onto it, his hands clamped to her hips as she unlocked her ankles and dug her knees into the cushions on either side of his thighs. A chip packet crinkled beneath her shin, but she paid it no heed as she rubbed herself against him, the deep throb between her legs craving connection, craving the heat and hardness of him. The hard ridge of his arousal felt alternatively good and bad. Relieving and stoking in equal measure.

  “Christ.” He tore his mouth from hers, his lips attacking her throat and moving lower, his tongue licking along her collarbones. “I missed you,” he muttered into the hollow at her throat, his hands sliding from her hips to her ribs to her breasts.

  CC moaned as they cupped and kneaded, and he pushed her back slightly to watch as he plucked and tweaked and taunted her nipples until they were hard as diamonds. He stared at his handiwork, licking his lips like they’d been sprinkled with Nerds, then latched on hard, first to one nipple then the other, switching back and forth in an endless pattern.

  Delirium took hold. CC shoved her hands in his hair and held on tight, grinding her pelvis against his as he devoured her breasts. Then suddenly he was kissing her again, wet and deep and sloppy, his arms circling her back, pulling her close, the wall of his chest hard against the taut, wet peaks of nipples still tingling from the ministrations of his mouth.

  It hurt a little. It hurt so damn good.

  She reached between them then, hurting somewhere else a lot more, groping for his fly, shoving it down, her fingers brushing against his dick then reaching inside, freeing it from his underwear, palming him, squeezing him.

  He groaned, and CC swallowed it up, her hands deft and sure as she guided his erection to the hot, wet heart of her, pulling her underwear aside with one hand as she centered him with the other, the thick crown of him notching into place at the slick heat of her entrance.

  She was vaguely aware that this was their second time without a condom, which moved them from reckless to irresponsible, but she was damned if she was going to stop this ride now. Her heart was tripping, and her breathing was labored, and every cell in her body throbbed with the need for possession.

  CC wasn’t sure if she sank down or he thrust up. All she knew was that suddenly he was inside her. Deep inside her. And nothing else mattered but this man and this moment and this thing between them as she panted and moaned and moved up and down in time with his in and out and the pleasure built and built and built.

  She kissed him, her mouth needing his, needing his full possession. Needing his taste on her tongue and his groans rumbling through her head and the harsh pant of his breathing. It careened out of control in a flash, her mouth hungry and reckless and greedy as he thrust higher and harder and deeper, pushing her over the edge.

  Pushing them both over the edge.

  The deep guttural groan of his pleasure was like an anthem in her head, and she rocked and bucked to its rhythm, riding it—riding him—all the way to the end, their hearts beating frantically in unison. The climax rolled over them like thunder, spinning them around and around, taking them to the highest high and leaving them gasping and sated and exhausted, panting and clinging to each other in the aftermath.

  CC allowed herself only a moment or two to recover and another moment or two to revel in the tickle of his breath on her throat and the thump of his heart against hers. But no longer. That would be madness, and the longer she waited the harder it would be to let go, and she had to let go because she had no desire to be one of those sad, weepy women who called his new PA looking for some scraps of his time.

  As soon as her legs felt able to hold her, she climbed off Wade’s lap, crossed to where she’d dropped her shirt, picked it up, and dragged it down over her head. Calmly—more calmly then she’d have thought possible—she turned to face him. He’d tucked himself away and straightened himself up, but he looked totally wrecked, and damn if that didn’t make her want to storm back on over to him.

  She ground her feet into the carpet.

  He eyed her warily. “Are you okay?”

  “Why did you come?”

  He didn’t say anything for long moments, then he, too, stood and crossed to where he’d dropped the papers he’d been holding when he’d arrived. He moved with grace and power—such a pleasure to watch—and muscles down deep and low fluttered and stirred again.

  She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed that.

  He scooped the paper off the floor, turning to her and saying, “How’s the house hunting?”

  CC folded her arms. “Wade.”

  “What?” There was a real edge to his voice. “It’s okay to fuck you on your couch but not to want to have a conversation with you?”

  Heat rushed to CC’s cheeks, and she thanked Christ for those blackout curtains. She took a steadying breath. Fine, he wanted to chat like they hadn’t just rutted like wild beasts within five minutes of seeing each other?

  Whatever.

  “I have an agent on it. There are a few places I like, but I want to check out the whole area before I decide. I’m going to see some more places this afternoon.”

  He thrust the paper in her direction. “That won’t be necessary anymore.”

  CC frowned, taking it automatically. Now the sun wasn’t blazing into her eyeballs, she could read, and it wasn’t a termination contract. But it was a contract.

  For a house?

  “What’s this?” she asked, her heart starting to thump hard and slow in her chest.

  “It’s yours.”

  CC blinked. “What?”

  He passed over his cell phone and there, on the screen, was her house. Her dream house. With the white picket fence and the sweeping ocean views. Then he fished in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, handing them to her. She took those automatically, too.

  “I bought it. For you.”

  CC stared at him, then at his phone, then back at him. “It’s not even for sale.”

  He shrugged, but for the first time ever he actually looked smug. “Everything’s for sale, CC, you just gotta offer the rig
ht price.”

  Her heart beat harder, banging like a drum, reverberating through her abdomen. Was he kidding? Was he freaking insane? It took about ten seconds for the shock and incredulity to wear off. And another ten for the red mist to fog her brain.

  “You’re serious.”

  He grinned and nodded. “As a heart attack.”

  Oh God. His face was a picture of triumph and excitement. Like he’d just tossed a forty-yard pass. Like a kid on Christmas Eve. He thought she’d be happy about this?

  He actually thought she’d be happy about it.

  “No.” She thrust the contract back at him as her temper notched closer to DEFCON 1.

  “It’s okay.” He held up his hands to ward off the papers. “I know you’re going to say it’s too much and you can’t accept it, but it’s not, it’s nowhere near enough, and I insist.”

  “Dear God…” She shook her head at him, trying to swallow her anger, to contain it. But her voice trembled and her hand trembled. Hell, her whole body was succumbing to rage. “Your ego knows no bounds, does it?”

  His grin faded. “What?”

  Yeah. That got his attention. “I don’t want your damn house, Wade.”

  “CC…” He frowned. “It’s a done deal. I already bought it.”

  She shoved the contract at his chest, along with the keys and his phone. “Well unbuy it,” she snapped.

  He clutched the items automatically. “But…it’s what you wanted.”

  CC gave a hysterical laugh as she paced away. God…did he know nothing about her? Had he learned nothing from their conversation that night in the red sitting room. How could she have let him inside her body when he knew so little? “You have no clue what I want,” she said, turning on him.

  His jaw clenched, and CC felt momentarily triumphant that she’d hit her mark. But he wasn’t about to take her criticism lying down.

  “I know what you wanted five minutes ago. I know what your body wants.”

  CC shook her head and gave another slightly maniacal laugh. “That’s just practice, Wade. Knowing what women want in bed is muscle memory for you. It’s your…superpower.”

  His laugh was as mirthless as hers. “Oh please, don’t beat around the bush, CC. Why don’t you go ahead and call me a manwhore while you’re at it.”

  CC shrugged. “If the shoe fits.” She was breathing heavily now, so was he. The kind of heavy that had nothing to do with orgasms.

  Unfortunately.

  “For fuck’s sake, CC. It’s your dream house. I was trying to do something nice.”

  That did it. Red alert. Deploy missiles. DEFCON 1. “I wanted to pay for the house myself, jackass,” she yelled. “With my own money, from my own bank account.”

  He threw the keys and contract on top of the mess on the coffee table. “It’s my damn money in that bank account,” he yelled back.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “But I earned it, I worked for it. I worked twenty-four freaking seven for it, for almost six years of my life, putting up with your whims and your phone calls at three in the morning and bearing the brunt of weepy women who think you’re some kind of sexual savant.”

  Although they did have a fair point there.

  “I earned the house I’m going to buy. This house—” CC pointed at the contract like it was a rattlesnake. “This house of…Wade’s oops-dear-I-fucked-my-PA guilt? I earned this one on my back, and you can shove it where the sun don’t shine, buddy.” She scooped up the papers and slapped them at his chest. “You can’t freaking buy me, Wade. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not like other women.”

  He snorted. “Oh, I noticed.”

  CC would have thought that a compliment not that long ago. She didn’t think he meant it that way today. “Did you? Did you really?” she demanded, her pulse pistoning along now. “I don’t think you have. It seems to me you just treated me the way my father treated my mother. Buying her what she wanted because she was too damn dependent on him to go and get it herself. I’m not like my mother, Wade. I don’t need or want a man to take care of me. I can earn my own money and I can pump my own gas and pay my own bills.”

  Her voice was getting louder and louder because yelling was far less impotent than bursting into tears, which was her other option.

  “And I can buy my own damn house.”

  CC could see the moment her words hit home. When Wade finally remembered their conversation that night rolling bedsheets into bandages and he realized how badly he’d screwed up. How he’d tried, albeit unintentionally, to take something from her she’d fought so hard her entire adult life to maintain—her independence. She sucked in some deep breaths to calm herself. It wasn’t his fault, Wade was reverting to type, doing what he always did. Throwing money at his problems.

  It usually worked, so…why not?

  But knowing she was one of his problems was almost too much to bear right now. It was just adding insult to injury. “Just go, Wade. Go and never come back.”

  “Christ, CC.” He shoved a hand through his hair, and she actually felt a bit sorry for the poor little rich boy. “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up back in Nebraska, and I was just trying to make up for it. But I can see I’ve fucked it up even worse.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for Nebraska, Wade. What happened there was as much on me as it was on you. Just like it was on the couch before. It’s fine.”

  “But you left early because of it.”

  Oh God, how could a man who had been with so many women still be so fucking clueless about them? “I didn’t leave because we’d had sex. I left because of the blonde.”

  “The blonde?” Wade frowned. “What blonde?”

  CC laughed. Yeah, there’d been so many over the years, she guessed he probably needed clarification. “At the lake. Skipping stones with you.”

  His frown smoothed out as he obviously located her in his mental book-of-blondes. “Oh, right. Yes. What about her?”

  Sweet mother of pearl. CC shook her head. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

  He frowned again. “I was just talking to her. She came up to me, she knew who I was but she was cool, and we just…talked.”

  “And you showed her how to skip stones.”

  “Well…” He shrugged. “She was pretty bad at it.”

  CC rolled her eyes. “Probably not as bad as she made out.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, CC. I was just talking to her.”

  “I know that.” CC sighed. “That’s the point. There are always going to be women who are just talking to you. Who are smiling and asking for your autograph as they make goo-goo eyes at you and rub their boobs on your arm. There’s always going to be another freaking blonde, Wade. And I’m just…not strong enough for that.”

  “Wait. But…” He shoved a hand on his hip. “What are you saying, CC? Why do you even care? Unless you have…feelings for me.”

  “No.” CC shook her head vehemently as she lied, because right now was the worst possible time to realize that she did have feelings for him.

  All the feelings.

  She loved him. And that was why seeing him at the lake, why having that light bulb moment about the demands of his celebrity had been like a knife into her heart.

  “I don’t know how I feel, Wade.” Another lie, but at least it gave her some wiggle room. “But I do know how you feel. About relationships. You don’t do them. You’re a serial dater. You change your women almost as frequently as your underwear, and fidelity is everything to me.”

  The angles of his jaw whitened as his mouth turned grim. “I have never ever cheated on a woman in my life.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve never had to, have you? You’ve never been with one woman longer than a few dates. What happens if you ever do decide to settle? When a few dates becomes a few weeks, then a few months? How long does it take you to get tired of mon
ogamy, Wade?”

  “I was with Jasmine for two years,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can do monogamy just fine. I am not your father, Cecilia.”

  CC swallowed at the way he used her full name. He’d said it in anger, as a reprimand, but it still had that strange buzzing effect on her cells, making it hard to concentrate on what else he’d said. About Jasmine.

  But Jasmine had been a long time ago, and CC would be a blind fool to ignore his track record since then, because she doubted she’d survive another man she loved leaving.

  “But you haven’t, have you?” CC folded her arms. “Done monogamy? Since then.”

  “I’ve never met anybody I wanted to go down that path with again.”

  Well, that was bullshit. Having met a lot of Wade Carter’s women—usually at their expiration date—CC could confidently say there were plenty of possibilities. Wade might have gone for lookers, but few of them had been dull, vacuous, or boring.

  And then there was her.

  If he’d come here for her, if he’d bought the house because he’d had feelings other than guilt for her, this would have been the perfect moment to say, “Until you.”

  I’ve never met anyone I wanted to go down that path with again until you.

  But he hadn’t. Which was all she needed to know.

  “And you don’t want to.” That’s what this all boiled down to. He was determined to stay footloose and fancy free.

  “Christ, CC.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “The Jasmine thing…that hurt a lot.”

  CC nodded. She understood how hard it was to trust again when your heart had been smashed to pieces by someone who was supposed to love you. Looking back, CC realized she’d probably never really trusted a man who wasn’t one of her brothers her whole entire life.

  “Okay…well.” There was no point going on about this. She picked up the keys and held them out for him. “Thank you for the thought, but I’m not taking the house. You have clever lawyers, I’m sure they can get you out of the contract.”