by EMILIE ROSE
She wasn’t sure what to expect from a night out with Kyle. She wasn’t dressed for anything fancy, but she doubted he was taking her to a greasy spoon, either. He led her to his car and they drove west on St. Charles Avenue. Twenty minutes later, they ended up in a residential neighborhood full of quaint little bungalow houses. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“To a place that serves the best steaks in town.” He parked under the carport next to a small gingerbread-colored cottage surrounded by a white picket fence. “Welcome to Casa del Peters.”
“Wow. You live here?” She got out of the car, marveling at the picturesque front garden brimming with colorful flowers. “It’s so cute. I never pegged you for a gardener.”
“My neighbor takes care of them, actually. She has a long-standing arrangement with the landlord. I’m all black thumbs. But what I lack in the garden I make up for on the grill.”
This was it. The Move. He’d invited her back to his home. He’d ply her with food and drink and then...dessert?
Her stomach knotted. Had she shaved her legs recently? Did she smell okay? Which pair of panties had she put on?
He unlocked the door, and Bella was enveloped by the scent of him: wood polish, clean sweat, rubber and something like pine. Almost like a new car. The house sported two bedrooms—one of which had been converted into a home office and man cave—a living room and a small kitchen.
Morbidly, she wondered whether this was the same cozy home Karla had invited herself into. Whether the triple dead bolt locks on the doors had been installed before or after that night. She didn’t ask.
After the brief tour, Kyle led her to the kitchen, where he’d laid out a wrought-iron table and cushioned chairs.
“I was going to have dinner outside, but it’s a little too cool, so I thought we’d go halfsies—eat inside with the screen door open so you can have a proper American barbecue atmosphere.” He gestured at the patio furniture. “Normally, I eat in front of the TV, so I don’t have a real kitchen table.”
She laughed. “Sounds perfect.”
Kyle opened the fridge and took out two marinating steaks. “I consulted a dietician before I set out to make this,” he said. “It’s perfectly portioned for your diet, so eat hearty.” He donned an apron that had Kiss the Cook printed on the front. She imagined an ex-girlfriend had bought that apron for him. Thinking about Kyle with other women reminded her she was not looking for anything beyond one night of sex...even if her heart told her otherwise. His apron might be an invitation, right along with the suggestive cock of his eyebrows and the tilt of his lips, but she wasn’t about to jump his bones unless he specifically asked her to. She didn’t want to scare him off again.
Kyle didn’t make resisting temptation easy. He turned the radio on to some Top 40 hits station. He danced and sang along to a teen sensation’s latest as he grilled the steaks on the gas barbecue outside. She laughed as he switched between a girly falsetto and the pubescent male part. She kept herself busy by helping with the salad.
They talked through the sliding screen door about simple things—music, movies, TV. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if this was a date, but she held back. She didn’t need labels on all the moving parts of their increasingly complicated relationship. She had to let go and accept tonight for whatever it was.
Deep down, though, she wasn’t entirely sure she could do that. A one-night stand would require only a surface appreciation for who and what Kyle Peters was. If they’d hooked up when she’d first arrived, she would’ve had no qualms. Hopping into the sack with the Olympic medalist would’ve been a fantasy come true. But he’d come to mean much more to her. He was a person with layers, flaws, secrets...and she cared about him.
When they were ready to eat, Kyle pulled out her chair for her and whipped off the apron with almost Chippendale-esque flair.
“You’re really trying to charm my pants off, aren’t you?”
“Is it working?”
She decided not to answer. “This steak is perfect,” she said instead, cutting into the butter-soft medium-rare meat.
“Old family recipe. My dad never cooked except when we barbecued. He was really a control freak when it came to the grill. I learned from him.” He chuckled drily. “He’d probably have a fit if he knew I was using propane instead of good old-fashioned charcoal the way a real man would.”
“I think anyone who’s shameless enough to sing and dance while cooking is man enough for me.”
“You like that? ’Cause I’m a karaoke fiend. I can rock me some Backstreet Boys like no one’s business.” He launched into a throaty version of “I Want It That Way,” and Bella had to throw a piece of lettuce at him to make him stop.
When they finished eating, Kyle collected the dishes and insisted she enjoy the evening air while he washed up. She didn’t want to be idle, but she was feeling much more relaxed. Good food, fine weather and a handsome man did wonders for a girl’s mood.
Of course, there was one thing that would make the night perfect. She peeked over to where Kyle was loading the dishwasher, bent at the waist, his trousers pulled tight against that firm butt. She could’ve sworn he was wiggling his hips on purpose. Her mouth watered, as if she hadn’t already had her share of meat for the day. She fanned herself, feeling a little too hot under her T-shirt. If it were anyone but Kyle, she’d have pulled her top off and made him take her on the kitchen counter.
But she had to play it cool. He’d said stay, so she was staying.
He came back with tea for both of them and sat back. “I love this time of day. Everything’s cooling down, settling in. I feel like the day is just getting comfortable.”
“And how do you get comfortable?” She kept her tone light.
He slid her a heavy-lidded look, and his slow smile melted her insides. Oh, he was good. “Drink your tea. Then I’ll show you.”
She sipped her tea, but it did little to soothe the excitement building inside her. She was remembering the way he’d made her come in the elevator and couldn’t help but squirm. To calm herself, she cataloged the contents of her gym bag, which Kyle had carried in for her. Lucky thing she kept a toothbrush in there.
You’re not staying over, she reminded herself. If this is going to be a one-off, you should call a cab and go home afterward.
She swept all those thoughts aside. She was here for dinner. As far as anything else, she was still fully clothed and nowhere near Kyle’s bed. You’re not there yet, Bella. Calm down.
A light breeze brought the sweet scent of flowers and greenery through the doorway. She closed her eyes and breathed deep to slow her heart and let the moment soak in. Anticipation was half the fun. Instead of picturing Kyle in all his panty-wetting glory, she’d meditate on the high of breathtaking hope.
“Hey.” The light brush of his fingers on her bare arm sent electricity zigzagging through her, and her eyes popped open. “You okay? Are you tired?”
“No!” She almost shouted it, because she could predict Kyle’s next words—a suggestion that he take her home so she could rest, leaving her to another night alone. “I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’m good and ready.”
Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Ready for what?”
She felt as though the air had been crushed out of her lungs. When he turned on the charm, it was like being tackled by a heavyweight—unsubtle and overwhelming. This was the legendary playboy everyone talked about.
She played it coy, lowering her lashes and tilting her chin to one side, even though she wanted to grab him by the collar and haul him onto the nearest flat surface, preferably with her on top. “It all depends.”
“On what?” He leaned toward her.
“On whether you intend to make good on your promise. You said you’d show me how you get comfortable.”
He set his mug down. “Come here.”
> She got up and was surprised at how shaky her knees were. The trembling only increased when he took her hand and stood in one smooth motion—barely an inch separated them.
His fingers skated along her waist and up her arms to her shoulders, then back down. She closed her eyes, holding still. He leaned closer, and she could smell smoke on him. “I thought—” his breath fanned over her “—that we could go into my bedroom—” his lips skimmed over the bare spot between her neck and shoulder, sending pulses of pure pleasure straight through her core “—and play my favorite board game.”
The haze evaporated, and she leaned back to look him in the face. He was still seducing her with his eyes, while his mouth formed a wry line that curved at the corners and gave him adorable dimples. “You’re serious.”
“C’mon. I’ll show you.” He took her hand and led her to the bedroom.
* * *
“I NEED WOOD,” Bella declared testily an hour later. “I’ll give you a sheep for a wood.”
“I don’t have wood for your sheep,” Kyle quipped, and they both laughed. “I don’t care if I sound like I’m five. That never gets old.”
“How am I supposed to build anything without wood?” She recrossed her legs on the bed, glaring at her cards. “They make this game impossible.”
“Not impossible. You just have to be mercenary about it.” Of course, he had an unfair advantage, having played the game hundreds of times. But then, strategy games were good for Bella’s psyche. It was training.
Okay, so maybe he’d pulled out the board game because he was still nervous and needed more time to gather his courage. All the old lines had come back easily, but behind the cool exterior, he was anxious. He wished he’d had some wine, but it didn’t seem fair to drink when Bella couldn’t.
She seemed fine with playing along, though. Her competitive nature wouldn’t allow her to do anything but accept his challenge. Besides, he preferred this side of her. That tenacity and readiness to tackle anyone and anything head-on was better than the automaton he’d faced on the mats all week.
Her lower lip jutted out as she studied her cards and the board. He wanted to take that soft lip between his teeth and nibble it.
But he was taking it slow. He was going to take the whole night slow. The last thing he wanted was to blow it in thirty seconds. More than that, though, he wanted Bella leaving his bed fully sated. What he got out of this would be secondary. That’s what he told himself, anyway.
He glanced at his handful of wood cards. Lucky for him, he’d managed to monopolize that one resource on the board. Bella’s holdings weren’t insubstantial, but she hadn’t figured out how to bargain with him. She hadn’t figured out what he really wanted.
“You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you?”
“You can’t build roads, much less settlements, without wood.” He leaned back against the pillows. “So what are you willing to give up for it?”
Challenge lit her bright green eyes. She set her cards down and eased up the hem of her T-shirt to expose the flat, smooth surface of her taut belly. Kyle’s nostrils flared as he drank in the warm, spicy scent of her. “How much wood can I get for this?” She quickly flashed her gray sports bra at him
Kyle licked his lips and tossed her one card. She snatched it up greedily and placed her first road on the board. “Ha! If I’d known you were so easily bought, I would have done that a long time ago.”
“Guess I’ll have to make you work harder if you want to keep building.”
She cocked her chin to one side and grinned. Slowly, she slid from the bed. Kyle’s hand of wood cards scattered around him as he watched her draw her shirt up over her head. He’d always admired her body from an athlete’s perspective, but right now, he wasn’t thinking about sports. Or much of anything.
“Something tells me you want more.” Her voice was husky and low. Kyle could barely restrain a groan as she unsnapped the top button of her jeans and tugged them past the curves of her hips.
He wasn’t sure what to expect underwear-wise—maybe boy shorts or cotton bikini bottoms. He hadn’t anticipated the lacy electric-blue thong. Lust powered through him as unstoppable as a runaway locomotive. His fingers clenched at his thighs, pulling the fabric tight against the already tented crotch.
Bella crawled back onto the king-size bed and sprawled onto her side. “So,” she purred, spreading her unbound hair out behind her. “Can I have your wood now?”
Kyle swept the board aside, the cards and pieces scattering like confetti across his bedroom. He gathered her into his arms, kissing her, drinking from her lips. She was so soft. He broke from her to regain himself. His heart hammered as he knelt above her. She watched him with a predator’s smile but didn’t reach for him.
I can do this, he told himself. And suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a trial. He wanted this. Wanted to lie down with Bella and press his length against her. Wanted to feel her skin and flesh ripple beneath him as he pushed into her—
His vision clouded and he breathed deep. Damn, he was hair-trigger sensitive.
“Kyle?” Bella’s worry flickered in those deep green eyes. She lifted a hand but hesitated. He shifted and took her by the wrist, guiding her fingers beneath the hem of his shirt. His abs—and everything else—twitched at her touch.
“Are you sure?” Questions swirled across her soft features. His chest constricted—she’d been so forgiving. So patient. She had no reason to want this with him. He’d tried to drive her away from day one.
But here they were. And neither of them was running away.
He slowly pulled his T-shirt over his head and guided her hands across his chest, settling one palm against his heart. She seemed to know exactly what he needed. In silence, she explored the light sprinkling of hair on his chest and tentatively traced the peaks and valleys of his muscles, her touch becoming bolder with each stroke.
This was right, he thought through a thickening haze of desire. This was exactly what he wanted. It was like slipping back into a warm, wonderful dream where he could fly and make magic happen.
She brushed her lips over his stomach and kissed her way up to his nipples. Her tongue painted lazy circles over them. Kyle breathed through it, experiencing every sensation as if it were new. In a lot of ways, it was.
She needs this as much as you do, he reminded himself sharply. He was supposed to be pleasuring her. Releasing her tension so she’d be ready to fight. Unfortunately, that tight feeling building at the base of his spine was distracting him from his purpose.
He drew Bella to her knees and kissed her again, pouring every bit of seduction he could into it. He kept his lips soft even though he wanted to dive right in and taste her inside and out, finding all of her secret places. He stroked her back and hair and held her as delicately as a flower, kissing her until she whimpered.
“Please, Kyle.” She drew back for a breath, hands seeking. “I need you.”
“I’m right here for you.” He lowered his mouth. “Right here.”
* * *
WHEN IT CAME to sex, Bella had always taken what she wanted. Men had appreciated her aggressiveness—even Antonio had let her be the boss in bed. But she couldn’t do that with Kyle.
She wasn’t being completely passive, though. Maybe it was instinct that had her fingers questing gently, probing and testing rather than grabbing and clutching. The heat was just as intense, but the urgency wasn’t there—no frantic tearing of clothing, no crashing of open mouths. He was being careful. They both were. It was frustrating...and achingly seductive.
Wordlessly, he drew her hands down and unzipped his pants. She helped. In seconds, he was naked, fully sprung, reaching for her. He unhooked her bra, and when her breasts were free, she could see in his face fascination and wonderment. She felt...exposed.
They lay down side by side, facing each
other. Skin to skin, electricity seemed to skate across her back and breasts. He reached between them and stroked her deftly, precisely, and she gave a soft, surprised moan as pleasure arced through her spine. Her mind drifted as he pressed her onto her back and gave her a slow, drugging kiss that cruised lower, to her chin, her throat, her breasts and stomach and...
Oh.
It was a long time before he came back up, and Bella was so mindless all she could do was lie there and stare. His lustrous gaze drifted over her as he rolled on a condom. He seemed to be taking in every angle the way an artist studied a blank canvas—planning every stroke, intent on imprinting pleasure onto every inch of her body.
His blunt fingertips glided across her inner thighs. Goose bumps erupted all along her arms. How was he doing this to her? She’d never felt so vulnerable or needy. “Please hurry,” she whispered. The plea wasn’t faked. None of her feelings were. She knew this because if he walked away now, she was sure she’d burst into tears.
“You,” he murmured against her neck, “are a selfish, greedy girl.”
“Only because I always get what I—” Her challenge was cut off as he slid home, and her breath left her. Kyle held still, poised above her, trembling. They stayed like that, clinging to each other on the brink of a crumbling cliff.
“Meu Deus.” She clutched his shoulders, desperate for more...or less. Hovering on the edge, she couldn’t decide whether to relax and subside or throw herself from the precipice. Amazing. For once, she didn’t know what she wanted.
“Bella.” Kyle’s voice came out hoarsely. “I... You’re so...” His eyes were rolling up as if he were going to pass out. She caressed his rough cheek, bringing him back.
“I’m yours tonight, Kyle. All yours.”
The harsh lines on his face softened. He sank deeper into her, and Bella lay back and let go, absorbing him with every thrust. Feeling nothing but Kyle and his muscles and his hot breath and hands. Letting him pour his passion into her, letting him take his fill.
