Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

by Milly Taiden

  He rocked against a spot inside her that made her eyes roll back it felt so good and she called out his name. So he did it again, thickening inside her as she clawed at his back and started writhing against him.

  “Good?” He squeezed her hip and surged like a man on a mission.

  “Oh god,” she moaned. Good didn’t even begin to describe what was happening inside her body.

  “You there?” he asked, and she squeezed his ass, urging him on. He gasped her name and she responded in kind, and then he jerked twice in quick succession, spending himself, and she rubbed underneath him like a happy kitten. She kissed her way across his chest as his muscles unclenched, then tipped her face up for a kiss.

  She wasn’t expecting the confused look on his face. “What?”

  “You didn’t come.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t always.” Rarely, if ever, but he didn’t need to know that. Except apparently he thought he did.

  Breathing hard, he held himself over her for a minute, then cursed and moved to deal with the condom. He didn’t go far, though, so neither did she, shifting just enough to go from wanton slut to seductive mistress. Or something like that. In reality, they both probably looked like hot sticky messes, but she didn’t care.

  Finn turned back to her and tugged silently on her hand, pulling her up and into his lap. He stroked her hip and cupped her neck, and gave her his absolutely sternest look. “You should have told me intercourse doesn’t do it for you.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, it does it for me. It just doesn’t make me…you know.”

  He stroked her leg and glowered. “Making you come is not optional for me.”

  “That’s weirdly nice and caveman-ish at the same time.” She shrugged. “It’s just not a part of sex for me.”

  “It is for me. I want to give you that.”

  “Well, too bad you don’t have a magic penis,” she whispered with good humour. She’d had this conversation before, although no one had ever been this persistent.

  “True. But my fingers and tongue, on the other hand…” He nudged her thighs apart and traced her sex with his digits. “Okay, let me ask you this. Beth, do you want to come?”

  The question sent a dark thrill through her core and she nodded.

  “Then be a good girl and spread your legs for me. I’m feeling hungry.”

  Could her face get any redder? Or her hopes any higher? That fluttery feeling was back and she tipped her head back. Finn let her slide against the arm of the couch, staying beneath her as he started to tease her with his fingers, and it was only when her own hands started to work on her breasts that he growled and slid to the ground, burying his face where she was wet and needy.

  He licked and sucked and fucked with his tongue, pausing here and there to fill her head with dirty thoughts and filthy promises she knew he wouldn’t be able to keep beyond morning, but it didn’t matter because he was delivering everything she’d ever imagined right then and there.

  “Finn,” she gasped, pulling at his head as he sucked her clit into his mouth, and he hummed.

  Hummed.

  And she died and went to heaven.

  ***

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AS she trembled her way down from what Finn hoped was the orgasm of her life, he stroked her legs and traced circles on her tummy. When she finally blinked in his direction, he grinned. “Hungry?”

  She nodded, and he tugged her up against him. They finished their dinner, then finished each other again in the shower, using a condom Beth grabbed there and then another on the floor again before finally, reluctantly, dragging their clothes back on and falling asleep wrapped around each other.

  He woke up a few times in the night, not used to having a warm weight covering half his body while he slept, but he just drifted far enough into consciousness to remember it was Beth. It felt right, sleeping with her in his arms, even on a couch.

  As dawn broke, he forced himself to stay awake, to savour the feel of her against him. Because soon enough she’d shut down and push him away. It was the price he’d pay for falling in love when he wasn’t capable of honouring all that meant.

  At some point in the night, he’d admitted that’s what had happened. And it didn’t happen when they screwed, or even when they kissed. Finn traced back through all their fights, to the first time she told him off, her eyes blazing and lips pink, and decided that was probably the moment he fell in love with her.

  He couldn’t regret not doing anything about it sooner. He’d loved her for a year and that didn’t change the fact he couldn’t imagine sharing a life with her.

  If he could, with anyone, it would be her. His chest ached at the thought of Beth finding someone else to marry. To make babies with. To love on her front porch in matching rocking chairs as they grew old together.

  But as much as he cared for her, he still didn’t want any of that. Because a gorgeous baby girl with dark curls and flashing eyes would grow up. Ballet class. Karate class. Swimming lessons. Tutoring. Camp. His chest tightened at the thought of the mounting expenses for a completely fictional child. His condo wouldn’t be appropriate and it wasn’t a good time to sell. Cold sweat trickled down his back at the thought of losing some of the equity he’d carefully built up.

  His company, not yet formed, would disappear into the smoke of could-have-been.

  No, he told himself resolutely. He didn’t want any of that. Wouldn’t think of Beth all round with child, or how she’d get to that state. It wasn’t for him. She wasn’t his.

  He’d let her push him away.

  It was for the best.

  *

  She didn’t want to wake up. Waking up meant morning and morning meant a return to friendship.

  Her back was pressed into Finn’s chest, but he still seemed to know she’d woken. He tensed for a minute, then kissed the top of her head and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “More olives for breakfast?”

  The casual question lanced pain through her chest. It was all so easy for him. He probably did this morning after thing all the time, had it down to a science. Well, she shouldn’t be surprised. Time to be tough. She shook her head and laughed. “There are some muffins downstairs in the kitchen. And coffee.”

  She needed space. She curled up and off the couch, not looking back at him, and headed straight for the bathroom. After some deep breaths and Zen thoughts, she freshened up and worked her hair into a reasonable looking braid. But when she stepped back into the office, it was empty. So much for worrying about putting on a brave face. No face required, apparently.

  She didn’t know what to feel. Anger? That wouldn’t be fair, although the kernel of a good grump definitely sat in her gut. She settled on sadness. Life just wasn’t fair sometimes, nothing to be done about that. She grabbed some cleaning supplies from under the bathroom sink and set about returning Ty’s office to pre-debauchery state.

  Her phone rang as she was folding up her wrinkled dress clothes from the previous day. She glanced at the display—Karen Miller-Reynolds calling her at seven in the morning could only mean one thing.

  She answered the phone. “Let me guess.”

  “Everyone in town knows that you were stranded at the winery with Finn last night, yes.” Karen laughed. “Ty told Evan, who told Evie, who called me, hoping Paul might have some information.”

  “About me and Finn?”

  “About the road closure!” Karen sighed. “Although I’d like some details about you and Finn.”

  “Nothing interesting to share on either point, I’m afraid.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  “Really? Did you turn him down?”

  Quite the opposite, in fact. “Why would that be the only reason nothing happened?”

  “Because the man has the biggest crush on you. It would be cute if he was seventeen. Now it’s just—you know, get on with it already.”

  “He does not.” But the more she thought about it, the more that made sense. Oh, Finn. All the feelings h
e could barely handle. Of course he’d need some time to process the night before.

  “He does not what?” Finn’s rich voice asked from the doorway, and she spun around.

  Beth sucked in a sharp breath. “Karen? I gotta go.” She pressed END and tossed her phone onto her purse.

  He nodded in the general direction of the kitchen. “I put coffee on.”

  “Oh.”

  “Did you think I’d gone?”

  She flushed. “Maybe.”

  “Hey,” he said softly, closing the gap between them and pulling her into his arms.

  “I would have understood if you'd gone.” She offered a weak smile.

  “I wouldn’t do that to you.” He winced. “I’m sorry I gave you the impression I would.”

  She put on her best it’s cool face. “I’m just not…this is my first one-night stand, really. I’m not experienced at the morning after thing.”

  His voice was sharp and edged with protest. “It wasn’t a one-night stand.”

  But it was, and no amount of feeling would change that. All of a sudden her brave facade crumbled and she was trying in vain to blink back tears.

  “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, and she shook her head. She was getting his shirt wet but it didn’t matter. It was the shirt she’d lent him. He’d never wear it again. It wasn’t him. He was oxford blue and dry clean only. This was just a dream. It didn’t matter that she was losing it. He go home and change and be done with her.

  “Nothing to be sorry for,” she whispered. “I knew what I was getting. I wanted it. I wanted you.”

  “You deserve so much more than me.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing against her head, and she wanted to cry out that he deserved more, but that wasn’t her fight. He’d need to figure out on his own that love didn’t demand or force change. That she could be a part of his life without taking it over.

  But that still wouldn’t matter, because at some point they’d fight about the next step. Rings. Weddings. Babies.

  And it wouldn’t be the good kind of fight.

  It would be this, but ten times worse. A hundred times. Because then the fact that she loved him wouldn’t be a secret and she couldn’t harbour a secret hope that he might change his mind.

  Which she did. Despite all signs to the contrary—his resigned expression as he dried her tears and made her coffee, his gentle kiss after packing up his bag, and the resolute way he left without looking back—despite all of that, she thought he might just change his mind.

  She was a fool.

  *

  It took Beth nineteen days and two painfully polite meetings to realize Finn wasn’t going to come back to her. Wasn’t going to realize that love was a precious gift, not a threat. He really was a confirmed bachelor, no matter what, and her heart truly was broken. No white knight was going to mend it.

  So she put her Lilith Fair CDs on repeat and started crying.

  Unfortunately for Ty, it was at the end of the day when everyone else had left, and he just happened to walk past her office as she tossed used tissue after used tissue aimlessly onto the floor. And it was his tough luck he stepped inside and asked what was wrong.

  Instead of answering, she grabbed his hand and dragged him down to the bar, snagged two bottles of wine—not the Riesling as she was sure she’d never drink that again—and held one out in his direction.

  Ty, being Ty, didn’t ask any questions. He just opened the wine and took a big drink. “Who’s the asshole?”

  “Finn.”

  “Fuck him.”

  And that was pretty much the agenda for the next hour. At some point, Beth wanted to dance, so they ended up in the great hall, and that’s where Evan found them.

  “What are we doing?” He strode toward them, unbuttoning his jacket, and Beth hiccuped as she started giggling.

  Ty waved his bottle of wine at his brother. “Getting drunk and talking about how much men suck.”

  Evan cocked one eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’m game.”

  “Come on, it’s for Bethie.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she threatened, but with the blurry double vision she had going on, she might have been talking to a chair.

  “Don’t you have girlfriends for this?” Evan sank to the floor next to her and tugged her close. “Evie’s always up for a girls’ night.”

  “I asked her. She invited me over to her place, but Liam is out and she’s got all three kids tonight, so that sounded…” She wrinkled her nose. “Noisy.”

  “You’re noisy.”

  “I wouldn’t want to have to filter.”

  “Ahhh.” Evan sighed. “So Finn’s a jerk?”

  “Whatever, I don’t even like him.”

  “You love him.”

  “I hate him.”

  Ty laughed. “I think, princess, it’s possible that what you and Finn have is beyond love and hate.”

  “We don’t have anything,” she wailed and reached for her bottle of wine again, but Evan moved it out of reach.

  He shook his head. “You’re cut off.”

  “You’re just as bad as he is,” she muttered. “What is it with you guys? Scared of commitment. Jerks.”

  “Should I fire him?”

  “Yes.” Beth hiccuped again.

  “It’d be a real shame to lose his insight. He’s got a good vision for what we need and he’s cheap.”

  Beth shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like Finn. Except the good vision part. I suppose.”

  Evan shrugged. “His last invoice was half the amount I was expecting.”

  She stilled. “Why would he do that? And why didn’t I see it?”

  “He sent it directly to me.” Evan smoothed her hair. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe he realized his advice was crap.” The brothers laughed. “No, I’m serious! I’m going to call him.”

  She clambered to her feet and headed upstairs. Behind her Evan and Ty made some muttering noises but neither stopped her. Maybe they followed. Maybe they didn’t. She didn’t care.

  She wasn’t calling Finn on a personal matter. This was business. So she used her desk phone. It took three rings for him to answer.

  “Finn Howard.”

  “Finn. It’s Beth.”

  He paused and her chest ached. No. Business.

  “I’m calling about your most recent invoice.”

  “I sent that to Evan.” He sighed. “Beth, I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

  “You have called, twice. I got both messages. Listen, about the invoice—”

  “I mean, I should have called you as a friend.”

  “We’re not friends.”

  Another long silence. “I suppose I deserve that.”

  This was not going as she planned. “About your bill.”

  “I don’t want to talk about the invoice,” he said, his words straining even over the phone line. “We haven’t had a chance…I want to talk about you. How are you?”

  She laughed, a hysterical watery burst of noise. “I’m fantastic. And that is not why I called so if we could return to the business at hand, that would be swell.”

  “Swell?”

  “Indeed. Now, about your invoice. It was less than we expected.”

  “Not usually something people complain about.”

  “Well, I’m complaining.”

  “About my invoice?”

  “Yes, the invoice. What else would I be complaining about?”

  “Maybe that I’ve been a jerk?” He’d lost the sharp edge and his voice was now low and smooth, like he was managing her. She didn’t want to be managed. She wanted to be loved but that wasn’t on the fucking table.

  “I definitely don’t want to talk about that.” I don’t want it to be true. I don’t want you to be okay with being such a colossal idiot. “I’ve just come from a business meeting with the executives of my organization and there was some discussion—”

  “Exec—Beth, are you okay?”

/>   “‘Course I’m okay. I’m grrrreat!”

  Another long pause. “Is it possible that you’re drunk?”

  Damn, she’d thought she’d managed her slurring better than that. “Define drunk.”

  “Are you alone?”

  She glanced around her office. “At the moment, yes. Evan and Ty are around. We were talking about you before. It wasn’t good.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Stop that. Stop taking my hate on the chin.” She shoved her hand over her mouth to keep from saying the rest. Stop pretending my hate is almost as good as my love.

  “You want me to fight back?”

  She didn’t have an answer, so instead of responding she turned to her computer and opened an email he’d sent the day before with artwork for the new ad campaign. “I don’t like the new art direction.”

  “Maybe we should talk about that when you’ve sobered up.”

  “No, I want to talk about it now. I don’t like it. You don’t get our brand at all.”

  “Tell me more about that.”

  “Shut up. Don’t manage me.” She propped her elbows on her desk and stabbed a finger at the computer screen. “This new stuff screams hipster yuppie bullshit.”

  “Hipster and yuppie at the same time? Aren’t those a few generations apart? We were going for sophisticated and youthful. No funny glasses or minivans.”

  “We have a sense of community, Finn. Mr. Solitude. Mr. Wanna Be Alone Forever. S’okay, you don’t get that. Whatever. But that’s what we are, and this isn’t it.”

  “This?”

  “The artwork!”

  “Right.” But he said it like he knew they weren’t talking about the artwork and that made her mad. Unfortunately, it also made her slightly nauseous. Fighting took too much energy when it wasn’t what she really wanted to do. He talked quietly in her ear about market segments and branding, but she wasn’t listening. Not to his words. Instead she let his voice wash over her, wiping away the bitterness. So sad to only get this small piece of him, but why was she hammering at him when he was putting up with her drunken phone call? Humouring her attack on his work when they both knew it was a rail against his cold, unfeeling heart.