And she’d given him nothing. Not a damn thing.
He didn’t know if it was because she was insecure, shy, or if he’d been right the first time, and she had zero interest in him. She probably thought she had a giant ogre stalking her. Yeah, he could approach her, but he was afraid if he pushed, he’d scare her and blow it again.
Her silence was answer enough though, wasn’t it?
“Shit.” He shoved restless fingers though his hair. He shouldn’t be there.
Yeah, she blushed like crazy and stammered adorably, but no one was that shy or insecure. He had to face facts; she wasn’t into him.
What was it about her that had him coming back night after night?
He lifted his beer, finishing it off, then glanced across the bar. No sign of her. Jesus, she’d left already, and he was still sitting there hard and restless like a moron.
Why the hell was he wasting his time on this chick? She was trouble with a capital T, the complete opposite of the women he usually went home with for a hot, no-strings night. He never went back for seconds. He sure as hell didn’t chase or obsess. He fucked then he left. The end.
“Do you want another one?”
He jolted in his seat as Shay’s husky voice ran over his skin like velvet, making his gut clench. He turned to her, gaze locking with her stunning bright green one. He tried to stay relaxed, but he was close to jumping out of his damn seat. Fuck, he wanted her.
He squashed down the budding anticipation making his balls throb. She was just doing her job, right? “Think I’m good, babe.” He took in her features, soft and sweet. But those curves—pure sin. “I should probably head off?” It came out a question, full of pitiful hope.
Her hands were clasped in front of her, fingers twisting, then she glanced away, crossing her arms when she looked back at him—shoving her tits higher. “Your friend isn’t joining you tonight?”
He shook his head, vocal cords suddenly tight.
“My shift just finished, actually. Would you…would you like some company?”
Her color was high, the pulse at the side of her slender throat fluttering like crazy. A throb started behind his zipper. “Sure.” It came out a growl.
She slid in across from him, gaze still darting around, looking at anything but him, fingers tangling together. Then finally she turned those green eyes his way again. Stunning. “That guy? The one who was with you…um, when you first came in? Are you related?”
“He’s my younger brother.” If she was finally here, sitting at his table, just so she could ask for Joe’s number, Hugh would have to kill him.
“I could see the resemblance, only you’re”—she squirmed in her seat—“bigger.” The blush increased, and she bit that full lower lip.
He grinned, couldn’t help himself, whether she thought him being bigger was a good thing or not, though, remained to be seen. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Her gaze dropped to his neck then down to his chest and across his shoulder to his bicep. “Your, ah…muscles are bigger, too.” Then more with the lip biting but now with an added wiggle and an awkward flip of her hair. “You must be so…um, strong.”
Was she…
Christ.
He had to fight not to laugh and pounce on her, all at the same damn time. Finally. The woman was cute and sexy, but her pick-up lines totally sucked, which meant she didn’t come on to guys often or at all. For some reason, probably because he was a goddamn Neanderthal, that pleased the hell out of him. “You flirting with me, sweetheart?”
Please, be flirting with me.
She blinked across the table at him. Then her blush turned thermonuclear. “No. No, I was just…I was making conversation.”
“Really?”
She squirmed in her seat again, and he inwardly groaned. Was she already wet? Was she imagining what it would feel like when he pushed his cock inside her?
He sat back, watched her carefully as he spoke. “Cause it kind of sounds as if you’re asking something else. Like you wanna know if I use my strength in bed? If I use it when I fuck a woman? Move her where I want, hold her where I want her?”
She sucked in a breath.
“The answer’s yes.”
Her gaze darted down, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t…I didn’t mean…”
Jesus. He couldn’t control his dirty mouth around her. Something about her brought out the caveman in him, and he couldn’t make himself shut the hell up. He also couldn’t take much more of this, of her innocently sitting there, as if she didn’t know what she did to him, driving him out of his mind. The need to get inside her hammered him with an incessant, heavy beat behind his ribs. “What do you want, Shay?”
His voice was rough with lust, so much so he sounded like a fucking animal. But he had no control over it, not after watching her night after night but not being able to touch.
He’d backed off, waited her out, going against his natural instincts. But this time she’d made the first move. She wouldn’t be with him now if he’d freaked her out that night. That was a fact. “You’re not sitting here with me just to shoot the shit.”
She stared at him, and he watched different emotions move over her face. She was nervous, edgy, maybe even scared, but not of him—no, she was afraid of what she wanted, of what she needed to say to get it.
“No… I-I’ve thought about you and what you said, um asked. A lot.” She fidgeted some more then looked down at her lap. “I don’t usually do things like this…I’ve never…God, why is this so hard?”
“Say it.” The words rumbled from his chest. Jesus, he’d scooted forward, ass literally on the edge of his seat.
She let out a shaky breath, and he held his.
“I-I want what you said, that night, at the garage.”
She said it so quietly, he almost didn’t hear her or maybe didn’t hear her right?
“Look at me, Shay.”
She lifted her gaze, and it was all there. Yeah, he’d heard her right, and he wanted to dive across the table, tear that clingy uniform off her curvy body, and fuck her right there in the bar. Instead, he reached out, slid his fingers under her chin when she tried to drop her gaze again and tilted up her face.
“You sure about that?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Nothing’s changed. I don’t do relationships. I want you, but I will walk away if we’re not on the same page with this.” The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, and he had to be sure she knew what she was getting herself into. She said it herself; she didn’t do this kind of thing. And as much as more time with her appealed, he couldn’t offer her more than one night…for so many reasons.
She shook her head. “I understand. I-I don’t want more than what you offered.”
Hugh didn’t need to be told twice. “Then let’s get out of here.”
He stood and took her hand when she just sat there staring up at him, tugging her gently to her feet.
“We’ll go to your place,” he told her.
She nodded, fingers flexing around his. “Okay.”
Then he led her across the bar and out the door.
Chapter Four
Shay felt him move in behind her as she unlocked the door, big body towering over her, warm, hard. She shivered.
Was she really doing this? Was she going to sleep with this man?
It was crazy, insane, but the only answer she could consider right then was a resounding yes!
When he’d come into the bar again tonight, that steady gaze locked on her the whole time, she’d somehow pulled together the courage to approach him. The fear that he’d walk out the door and never come back—that it might be her last chance—had her moving in his direction.
The man had drawn her in with that magnetic pull that radiated from him; there was no other way to describe it.
Her grandmother’s dying words had echoed through her head on repeat, boosting her courage. Live life, Cupcake, don’t let it pass you by. She’d made S
hay promise she would, trying one final time to get her only granddaughter to drop her guard.
She’d thought she was doing that with Travis, and look how that turned out.
Don’t think about him.
Besides that…misstep…she’d always played it safe. The last thing she wanted to do was follow in her mother’s unstable, irresponsible footsteps. That wasn’t Shay. She wasn’t made that way.
But no matter how many times she tried to tell herself that, she hadn’t been able to stay away from Hugh, and the next thing she knew, she was saying ridiculous things about his muscles and doing a crappy job of getting his attention, of getting him to offer what he had the first night they met. Because she’d wanted it. Badly. She’d let nerves and insecurity stop her then. The last risk she’d taken had lost her her job and her self-respect.
But then this wasn’t a risk. How could it be? This was about mutual lust, nothing more. The man wasn’t even her type.
No, this was her taking life by the horns, taking what she wanted, on her terms. Without the risk. He wasn’t the kind of guy she usually went for, which meant her heart was safe. She wasn’t against having meaningless sex, but relationships were another thing entirely. Emotionally, she wasn’t ready for something like that. Might never be. Travis had left her a little broken—and though she hated to admit it, even to herself—fragile.
Fate had dropped this man in front of her. A big, giant, yummy gift. Fate wanted her to have a one-night stand with her mountain man. Who was she to ignore fate?
Walking in, she flicked on the light then turned back to say something—she had no idea what—but talking seemed like something she should do at this point. As it turned out, conversation wasn’t high on his to do list. She was.
He moved in, crowding her, until her back met the wall, cutting her off with his deep, rumbling voice. “Bedroom?”
She pointed to her room on the other side of the small living area, and though she wasn’t looking, she knew her fingers were shaking embarrassingly. He didn’t say a word, took her hand and led her across her grandmother’s favorite pink floral rug. She followed blindly, clinging to his big, rough hand until he stopped at the foot of her bed.
Oh, my God! This is actually happening.
She’d never, ever done anything remotely like this in her life. She was not the kind of girl who slept with random strangers.
No, she was the kind of girl who dated creeps and uber jerks, who tried so hard to please but never quite measured up.
Which meant it was time to switch things up, right? And, technically, he wasn’t a random stranger. They’d been in each other’s company, or at least the same room, several times. She wasn’t some serial…man eater. She’d been to his garage, had met his friend, and his brother at the bar.
Why was she overanalyzing this? Sure, she was probably making a huge mistake, but no way did she want to stop what they were about to do. Heck no. This was just a one-night stand. Her first. Probably her last. People did it all the time. And she wanted him. More than badly. Why deny herself?
No risk. She repeated the words over and over in her head. His only expectations of her tonight were simple—get naked and get it on, nothing more.
One night with her mountain man, then they’d go their separate ways. Perfect.
Insane!
Slamming the door on the voice of reason echoing in her head, she watched as he sat on the edge of her bed, tilted his head back and looked up at her.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
That voice. It was pure sin, full of filthy, dirty delights that only he could give her, and she was helpless against it, wanted everything it promised.
She moved closer, and his hands went to her hips. Oh God. This beautiful, huge, delicious man was going to have sex with her. And yes, he was also going to see her naked. That thought kicked off a mini freak out, Travis’s comments about the way she looked, bouncing around in her head.
“Fuck, woman,” her mountain man growled. “You’re so damn sexy.”
His rough fingers slid up under her shirt, resting at her waist, scraping against her bare skin. And just the feel of his hands on her set her on fire, burning away any negative comments her memory had dredged up. He thinks I’m sexy.
He released her for a second, reached back and yanked his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. She’d seen men take off their shirts like that in movies before. As if he was in a hurry and couldn’t wait to get his hands back on her. It was an extremely sexy and utterly masculine way to take off a shirt. She made sure to memorize the entire thing.
Then she dropped her gaze.
Dear lord.
He was cut, ripped to perfection, all thick slabs of heavy, bulging muscle. He also had a tattoo, a simple cross on his ribs. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. She wanted to touch him, but she couldn’t make her hands move from her sides. While she was berating herself for being a coward, he solved her problem by grabbing her wrists and placing her quivering hands on his chest. She swallowed hard, nerves dancing low in her belly. Don’t just stand here like a dammed statue; do something!
Letting out the breath she was holding, she flexed her fingers against his hard muscles. He was hot and perfect and so masculine. She’d never known another man like him. Courage growing, she lightly ran her hands over his chest, the hair there soft yet coarse tickling her palms. “You’re so…just so…big,” she whispered, or more breathed on a shuddery exhale, unable to stop the thought from blurting past her lips.
He chuckled. “Think we established that.”
Heat smacked her in the face, embarrassed over her awkwardness and her pathetic pick-up attempts all over again.
But then his hands came back to her shirt, and he yanked it up and over her head before she could process what was happening. Now the heat on her face was for a different reason.
“Jesus,” he said, or rather groaned, then he tugged at the front of her jeans, popping the button and unzipping them.
Shay’s breathing grew choppy as he shoved them down to pool at her feet, leaving her in her bra and panties.
He sat back, and what could only be described as hunger, blazed from his eyes as he took her in, all of her. His hands went to her hips, sliding up to her waist and back down. Exhaling roughly, he ran his gaze over her before it landed and locked on her chest. He reached around and undid her bra. She fought to control her breathing as he slid the straps down her arms, letting the bra fall to the floor.
Her breasts bounced free, and she instantly lifted her hands to cover herself, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled them down, holding them by her sides.
“Jesus Christ. You’re perfect.”
“No…I—”
He cut off her denial when he released her and reached up, cupping her breasts in his huge hands, growling, “More than a handful. Shit, so fucking soft.”
She didn’t know if he was talking to her or himself. “Um…”
Her words died again, because he leaned in, tongue flicking out, moaning as if he was tasting his favorite ice cream, causing pleasurable zings to shoot down to her core. Then he drew her nipple deep into his mouth, and she whimpered, hands going to his shoulders in an effort to hold herself upright and not melt into a puddle at his feet.
So good.
He sucked and licked until she was sensitive and squirming. Each tug of his lips felt as if it was connected in some way to the pulsing heat between her legs, causing her muscles to clench and flutter with need.
Cool air hit her damp nipples, making them tingle delightfully, then he dipped his head, face going to her belly, lips moving over her skin. His beard tickled, and she tried to squirm away, but one of his massive arms wrapped around her waist, hauling her back in, holding her where he wanted her. He kissed her just above the top of her underwear then caught the fabric between his teeth, tugging up so they put delicious pressure on her aching clit. Big hands moving lower, he smoothed them between her slightly parted thighs.
/> She shuddered at the different sensations all bombarding her at once. The way he tasted her skin just above the elastic of her thankfully reasonably sexy panties, the way those hands never stilled, always touching and caressing, squeezing. Her hands automatically went to his hair to hold herself steady.
He tilted his head back, eyes flashing. “You good?”
“I’m, ah…yes.”
“Excellent.” His thumbs slid down the sides of her underwear, and he dragged them down her legs. And when he looked at her, there, he did some more delicious growling. His hands slid around to her butt, and cupping her cheeks, he pulled her forward. “Gonna taste your pretty pussy first, baby. All I can fucking think about.”
She slid her fingers through his hair, a moan of anticipation slipping past her lips. Then something occurred to her, and she tightened her grip on the thick strands and yanked his head back. “Wait!”
He stopped immediately, hungry yet concerned eyes moving back to her overheated face.
“I don’t know your name!” What a slut! She was about to have sex with a man, and she didn’t even know his name.
He grinned. “Hugh.”
“Hugh,” she repeated. “I like it.”
“Glad you approve.” Attractive lines crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Babe, you wanna ease up on the hair now?”
“Oh! Sorry.” She loosened her fingers but kept her hands where they were. “You can…um, continue.”
He laughed, the sound deep and sexy, and she felt it right there, right where he wanted to taste her.
“Tell me how you like it, beautiful.” His brown eyes were hungry intense, offering to do whatever she wanted to make sure she got what needed.
No doubt, the women he usually spent time with would tell him; they wouldn’t hesitate. She’d bet anything they could voice what they wanted. But that wasn’t her. The heat that had been riding her hard, making her forget her insecurities, her doubts, started to cool as icy shards of reality began to hit home. This was a huge mistake. Her face was burning now. “I don’t…I’m not…”
“Want you on my face.” His voice was all heat, but there was a softness in his eyes that told her he knew she was out of her comfort zone.
Swerve: Boosted Hearts (Volume 1) Page 4
