Barking Up the Wrong Tree

by Jenn McKinlay

  The reality that they were in the top of the lighthouse and possibly visible to anyone who cared to look didn’t matter. She wanted to belong to James in the most intimate way possible. It was thrilling and terrifying and she couldn’t stop what was happening between them if she tried.

  He worked his way down her body, savoring each bit. When he reached for the dress still bunched about her waist, she didn’t even think to stop him. It wasn’t until he paused while he pulled the dress to her knees that Carly could take a deep breath and get enough oxygen into her brain to glance up at him. She found him grinning at her, and the twinkle in his blue gaze made her catch her breath.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You,” he said. “You are a constant marvel to me.”

  “Oh.” She felt her insides flutter at his sweet words.

  He pressed his palm right where her heart was trying to beat in a steady rhythm but it kept speeding up and slowing down under the constant whirlwind that was James making love to her.

  He trailed his callused fingers across her ribs and around her belly button until they hit the wide stretch of elastic that kept her big cotton granny panties up. Damn it!

  “No! Oh, no!” she cried.

  Carly bolted upright into a sitting position. She had forgotten. Sweet Jesus on a bicycle how had she forgotten? A hot flush of mortification suffused her face and she pressed her palms to her cheeks as she tried to wriggle out from beneath him and go crawl under the lighthouse to die.

  James was not about to let her go, however. He took her hands from her face, then he slowly pushed her back against the bed, holding her hands with one hand over her head while he ran his fingers along the elastic edge of her white cotton shame.

  “I didn’t think it was possible to actually die of embarrassment, but I’m rethinking that now,” she groaned. “You were never supposed to see these. These were my last line of defense in case, well, in case this happened. Oh, god . . .”

  “Shh,” he whispered against her neck.

  She could feel his mouth curve up in a smile against her skin but instead of making her feel ridiculed, it made her feel cherished.

  “Do you know what makes a woman truly sexy?” he asked as he pulled back to shuck her dress all the way off.

  “What?” she gasped. She was struggling to concentrate on his words as James was running his callused hands up her legs from her ankles, pausing to trace small circles at the bend of her knees, and finally resting one on each thigh, gently pushing them wider just below the damned cotton briefs.

  “Confidence. A truly sexy woman doesn’t need the right hair or makeup or underwear, because she walks into every room like she owns it. She can render a man stupid with the toss of her hair, the curve of her smile, or the swing of her hips,” he said.

  He lowered himself between her legs while he spoke, shifting to drape her legs over his shoulders, bringing his mouth right in line with her girl parts. She could feel the press of his thumbs into her skin where he held her still and the heat of his mouth where it blasted through the thin barrier of cotton and torched her clit in a direct hit.

  “A truly sexy woman makes a man want to seduce her, possess her, make her cry out his name, just his name, when she comes. And you, Carly DeCusati, are the sexiest woman I have ever known.”

  He hooked the waistband of her undies with two fingers and slowly, achingly slowly, tugged the droopy drawers down, exposing her wet warmth to his gaze. Carly would have squirmed but the hot blue fire in his eyes didn’t allow her to duck or cover or breathe.

  When James parted his lips and put his mouth on her, she arched her back and instinctively bucked her hips, trying to get closer to him. He held her still, chuckling against her skin. The low rough rumble made her tremble and then he used his tongue to coax her slowly, inexorably, into a frenzied ball of need.

  She cursed, she reached for him, needing to touch him, to bury her fingers in his hair. She writhed beneath him, alternately panting and pleading, and still, he taunted, he teased, he ratcheted up the want in her until she was sure she was at the breaking point.

  With his mouth on her, he owned her and he knew it. What’s more, he made sure she knew it, too. Only James could do this to her. He hummed against her, and Carly was pretty sure she felt the vibration all the way into her soul. She was close, so close, she was about to start begging or crying, and then he thrust his wicked fingers into her and Carly came undone.

  “James, oh, James,” she cried as her orgasm washed over her in great clenching spasms of pure bliss.

  “Yes,” he mumbled against her. “Say it again.”

  She clenched her fingers in his hair, not sure if she wanted to hold him in place forever and repeat this exact exercise until they both expired or pull him away because the sweet torture was almost excruciating in its intensity.

  “James, oh, James,” she gasped.

  As the orgasm spiraled out of her, James pulled her undies back into place with a wicked smile. He pressed a kiss to her sweet spot through the cotton, causing her to press up against his mouth as if she had the stamina to do this again.

  “You must always wear these,” he said. He smoothed the cotton drawers with his hand, pausing to cradle the part of her that was still throbbing just one more time. “Promise me.”

  Carly laughed. She reached for him and pulled him back down on top of her. When she kissed him, she felt her body convulse with an aching need as she realized he tasted of her and it was the hottest thing ever. She reached for the button on his jeans, but he caught her hands in his, stopping her.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Shh,” Carly interrupted him.

  With the surge of post-orgasm happy coursing through her, she wanted nothing more than to share the feeling. James, however, had other plans.

  “Wait, sunshine. I need you to tell me about Preston,” he said. “I need to know what happened between you two.”

  Like a splash of ice water, Carly felt her lust extinguish with a hiss. Damn it.

  Chapter 28

  “Are you feeling all right?” Carly asked. She put her hand on his forehead.

  “I’m fine. What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m checking you for a fever,” she said. “I think you must be delirious.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Are you really turning down sexy time to talk?” she asked. “Isn’t that, like, a girl thing to do? You know, talking about feelings and stuff instead of sharpening the pencil.”

  James laughed. Then he dug his fingers into her hair and kissed her until she forgot his question, her name, and the fact that she wasn’t wearing clothes.

  The feel of his skin against hers made her insides tighten and all she wanted to do was wrap herself around him as snug as a sweater. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his sides, grabbed the waistband of his pants, and pulled him in tight. She could feel his hard length press against her and she wrapped her legs around his waist and locked him up against her.

  “You’re not going to distract me,” he said.

  She sensed it was a lie because he was kissing her while he said it. Kissing her and rocking his hips against her as if it were an instinctive response he couldn’t control.

  She smiled against his mouth. “Yes, I am.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  James broke the kiss and pulled away. He leaned his forehead against hers and she was pleased to see he was panting for breath. At least it was a struggle for him to stay on task.

  “Do we have to talk? I’d rather make you shiver and moan,” she whispered in his ear and then she nipped his earlobe, making him groan. It was cold comfort to feel his hands grip her tight as if fighting the urge to spread her wide and plow into her.

  “Behave,” he said.

  With that, he rested his full weight on top of her, t
rapping her beneath him. He ran his hands over her skin as if trying to memorize the feel of her. Carly could feel the desire that should have been sated surge up again. How did this man wind her up so easily? And why did he want to talk when they could be doing other things that were so much more fun?

  “Tell me about Preston,” he said. “He’ll be at the party tomorrow and it’ll be easier to deal with him if I know what happened.”

  Carly sighed. That’s right. She’d have to see Preston again. Ugh. She supposed there was no avoiding the convo.

  “All right, fine. But we have to put our clothes back on because I can’t think with you half naked like that,” she said.

  “I’ll put mine on,” he said. “But you stay just like that.”

  She opened her mouth to protest and he took the opportunity to kiss her, stopping whatever argument she might have made. He scooped up his shirt and put it back on, then he resumed his position on top of her. Carly tried not to think about how erotic it was to be nearly naked, down to just her old lady panties, with a fully clothed James on top of her.

  “All right?” he asked as he settled down against her.

  Carly nodded. He was all warmth and hard angles against her cool softness. She was pleased to feel that his own desire had not diminished at all but rather was a constant insistent nudge against her hip.

  “Then start talking,” he said.

  His gaze fastened on her face but she glanced away, turning toward the window, looking at the reflection of the lights in the glass. Their power was doubled by their reflection, sort of like how she felt when she was with James. There was no question that facing down Preston today had been easier because James had been there. He’d had her back and doubled her strength. She had never felt like that with anyone before.

  The realization made talking about the past seem silly in comparison, as if what had happened so many years ago even mattered now that there was this thing between them. She pushed that thought away, not really ready to evaluate what this thing was. Infatuation? Yes, that would do. There was no need to look too closely at the happy, fizzy, fuzzy way James made her feel, and that wasn’t even counting the sex.

  She glanced back at James. He was watching her, patiently waiting, not pushing, not rushing her, letting her become comfortable with the idea of sharing. It hit her again how much she liked him—okay, more than liked him.

  She cleared her throat. Probably she shouldn’t dwell on her feelings for him or she’d jump him and they’d never get this talk out of the way.

  “Preston and I went to college together,” she said. “We were both getting business degrees and we moved in the same circle of friends. He was so different from anyone I had ever known—so confident and self-assured—okay, kind of a dick actually. He always dressed to impress, had loads of money to burn, and had the best of everything as if it were his birthright. He was the typical arrogant bad boy, and it worked on me like a charm. I had a mad crush on him for two years.”

  Carly paused. James didn’t say a word. His hands moved over her skin as if to reassure her that all would be well, that he was here, that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her, not even memories.

  “Our senior year, Preston suddenly seemed to take notice of me,” she said. “He began to hang around and walked me to and from classes, we studied together, he even took me out a few times. I fell hard and fast. I thought he did, too, but it was a lie.”

  James’s hugged her close as if sensing that what was coming next was the hurtful part. He was right.

  “Turns out, at twenty-one, I was the last remaining virgin in our little group,” she said. She glanced at James. “Shocker, I know. I wasn’t always the sophisticated gal who picked you up at Marty’s Pub. Anyhow, apparently, a bet was made on who would be the guy to help me out with that, sort of like capture the flag for assholes.”

  She glanced at James’s face. He looked a little pale and there was a sadness in his gaze that made her feel small. She glanced away. She didn’t want his pity. Carly ran her hands over his shoulders and down his sides, trying to soothe him or maybe herself. She wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter.

  “Anyway, Preston always was the most competitive of our cohort. He played to win, and he played me, but hey, I learned later that the prize for my virginity was a whole pizza, so I guess that made it worth it.” She tried to keep her voice light and joking, although at the time there had been nothing funny about it.

  James went so still that Carly had to check to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep while she was talking. She cupped his chin with her hand and tilted his face toward hers.

  “Hey, you still with me?”

  His jaw was clenching like a fist and his nostrils were flared. His eyes had gone dark and when Carly looked closely she could see they were slate gray, icy cold, and hard with fury.

  “How long did you date him?” he asked. His voice was clipped.

  “Not long, not at all, really,” she said. “He dumped me via email a few days later.”

  “That son of a bitch,” he snapped.

  “Yeah, pretty much,” she said. She smoothed his hair with her fingers. She didn’t want to ask but she needed to know. “Does it bother you that I lost my virginity to Preston?”

  “That depends,” he said. His voice was low and rough and Carly got the feeling it was taking everything he had not to lose his cool. “Was it good for you? Was he gentle with you?”

  Carly felt her insides sigh and she smiled. James did not. She hugged him close. Leave it to James not to care that she’d lost her innocence to the A Factor—only to be worried about how she’d been treated during the experience.

  “Let’s just say, it wasn’t exactly memorable,” she said.

  She cringed as she studied his face. Probably there was some sort of rule about telling the guy who had just given you a mind-blowing orgasm that his cousin had been a lousy lover while taking your virginity. Again, more evidence of why she didn’t do relationships.

  “We probably shouldn’t talk about this, should we?” she asked.

  James’s expression remained neutral, but she got the sense he was working very hard to keep it that way. Oh, jeez, was there any way to save this moment?

  “Hey, it was over eleven years ago,” she said. “We were young and young people do dumb things. I didn’t handle the rejection very well and pretty much stalked him day and night until he hit me with an order of protection, which by the way is definitely the lowest point in my life to date. It also made me realize I wasn’t cut out for relationships.”

  James was silent. He pressed his forehead to hers and his face was full of regret. Carly didn’t want him to feel that way about her past, but then she remembered he had his own tough love story. Clearly, Horrible had done a number on him as well. Maybe what she was seeing on his face wasn’t pity so much as it was understanding.

  “Oh, sunshine, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know. I would never have let you face him tonight—damn it. I wish I’d punched him five more times and curb stomped him, too.”

  Carly laughed. It felt good to have someone so indignant on her behalf.

  “James Sinclair, I had no idea you were so bloodthirsty!” she said. “Thanks for that but I’m all right and, you know, I think it was actually good for me to see him tonight. I realized he has no more power over me. None.”

  “He is a selfish, narcissistic, ass hat,” James ranted. “I always knew it. When he and Heather got together, it was pretty clear that he was the one who had done the pursuing. It hurt and I was angry, but what he did to you, that makes me enraged.”

  “Don’t be,” she said.

  “But the way he treated you—”

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Really?” he asked. “One-night stands and no commitments for the past decade, is that fine?”

  They stared at each other. The
strings of lights gave them just enough illumination to see each other. James’s lips were in a hard, straight line and Carly missed the man who always seemed to have a smile or a laugh lurking just beneath the surface. On impulse she kissed the corner of his mouth, catching him off guard.

  “Yes, it’s fine. It was my choice to live my life that way. Honestly, I never wanted anything but a one-night stand,” she said. She blew out a short breath and added, “Until now.”

  James froze. He didn’t flicker so much as an eyelash and Carly realized that she’d probably read the situation wrong. He probably wasn’t looking for more than temporary arm candy for Pops’s party. Oh, god, why did she always throw herself at men who didn’t want her for the long haul?

  “I’m sorry,” she said. She tried to push out from under him, but it was like trying to move a boulder. The man would not be budged. “I don’t know where those words came from, honestly, I didn’t mean it. Probably, it was just the afterglow talking, you know, I orgasmed so hard I probably lost some brain cells. Forget I said—”

  “Oh, hell no!” he said.

  Carly’s gaze flew up to his but he was already moving in. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her until she saw stars. As if she’d unleashed some sort of sex-crazed demon, James was all over her and it was spec-freaking-tacular. Carly had never, ever, in her whole life, felt as wanted as she did at that very moment.

  “Say it,” he said as he hopped off the bed and stripped down to his boxers.

  “Say what?” she asked.

  James yanked off her granny panties and threw them over his shoulder.

  “Hey!” she cried out, but her outrage was a lie. She was laughing too hard to make it sound serious. Instead, she reached forward and tugged his boxers off. She threw them in the same general direction as her panties.

  “You know what,” he said. The look he gave her scorched and Carly almost checked her hair to make sure it wasn’t on fire.