Drawn Deep

by Cari Quinn

  “You forgot to put gas in the car? Really, Kim?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You should’ve called.”

  “I might’ve, had I remembered to bring my phone. Alas, I did not. So I walked.”

  “What if—”

  “What if someone accosted the wet pissed-off woman swearing with every step? Yeah right. I would’ve liked to see a bastard try.”

  He laughed. Simply had no choice. Just like he had no choice but to pull her close. “I know I’m supposed to wait my turn but I can’t. I need to know now. Do I get another chance?”

  “To fill me up?”

  Dirty images invaded his mind and they had nothing to do with making sure she gassed up properly. “Sure. Call it whatever you like.”

  “That depends.” She spoke against his throat.

  “On what?”

  She eased back, her big brown eyes as damp as her skin. “Do I?”

  His heart squeezed and he buried his face in the damp ropes of her hair. “God, yes.” Swallowing hard, he cupped her face in his hands. “Do you know how worried I was about you? I never should’ve let you leave.”

  “It all worked out in the end. The walk definitely cleared out my head.” A tear tracked down her cheek, dripping into his palm. “Though I have to admit I didn’t appreciate getting all that extra time to plan my speech.”

  “I bet. Ouch.” He winced and glanced at her shoes again. Sexy shoes, undoubtedly. Worth the pain of a long walk, probably not. “You could’ve probably flagged someone down with a phone.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But it’s time I dig myself out of my messes.”

  “You’ve always dug yourself out. That’s why I fell for you in the first place. One of the reasons anyway.” He stroked her temple. She brought out the need to touch in him every time she was in his arms—and even when she wasn’t. “I’m sorry. You have to be hurting.”

  “I am. In more ways than one.” She let out a long breath and slid her fingers around his wrist, still framing her jaw. “Not many men would’ve stayed to handle the party after I stormed out.”

  “I’m not most men.”

  She gave him a tentative smile. “No freaking kidding. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. But if this is just about gratitude—”

  “No. It’s not. I didn’t want you to let me go. And I don’t want you to sleep with a beautiful young chippie without cellulite, varicose veins or crow’s feet. That’s what expensive anti-aging creams and Botox are for. Plus I’m now taking Zumba. I expect to be insanely flexible by Christmas.”

  He rubbed her lower lip, so grateful for her it took a moment to find his voice. “That so?”

  “Yes. Though it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you said that you like me the way I am. I really wouldn’t mind.”

  “I do like you just as you are.” He tipped up her face to his. “Actually that was a lie,” he said, enjoying her momentary pout. “And while we’re on the subject of them, I told one that night in my living room. I said that any man other than me would find you easy to fall for. That was a fucking whopper. So that makes three major lies I’ve told you. Four if you count the house. Because not only do I like you as you are, I love you. I think I loved you when you were texting obscenities at your ex and kicking your tire that first night—”

  “Shut up.” Arching onto her tiptoes, she grabbed his face and covered his mouth with hers. Silencing everything but the wild beat of his heart and the breath he couldn’t hold back at the sensation of her warm, wet lips caressing his. Everything he’d ever wanted existed in the simplicity of their lips moving together.

  When she finally pulled back, he dropped his forehead to hers. “Let’s go upstairs and fuck it out.”

  Chuckling, she sagged in his embrace. With relief or exhaustion, he couldn’t tell. Maybe both. “Michael.”

  “Don’t Michael me. I’m not a child. I know what I feel. You make me laugh. You make me happy in a way I’ve never been. I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Infatuation is—”

  “Not this,” he interrupted. “I see your flaws. Believe me, I see them.”

  Easing back, she frowned. “Hey there.”

  “I have them too. I’m not blind to yours or mine. But they don’t turn me off. Your flaws are gorgeous to me because they’re part of the whole. You can’t have a sunrise without the night. Your daybreak is worth every cloud.”

  “Damn, don’t sweet talk me into submission. It’s so not fair.”

  “It is fair. Everything is if it’ll keep you in my bed.” His lips quirked. “Or me in yours. I’m not fussy.”

  “It’s too soon,” she whispered. “What if these feelings wear off?”

  “What if? They feel really spectacular right now. I’m in no hurry to rush them along.” He smoothed his thumb over her wet cheek. “Are you?”

  “No. I’m not. God, I’m so sorry. I practically pushed you into Casey’s arms.” She stroked his wrist, her watery eyes searching his. “You must’ve thought I didn’t care at all.”

  “Actually it was the first time I was certain you did. You wouldn’t have gotten so mad if you weren’t jealous. But in case you still aren’t certain, I’m not interested in Casey. She was drunk and flirting with me, and you saw me trying to push her away. You’ll never have to worry if you can trust me. If I make a promise, I keep it.”

  She lowered her head, blinking furiously. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Possibly not,” he said. When her gaze snapped back up, he grinned. “Guess you’ll have to work double-time to make sure you’re worth my while.” Circling her shoulders with his arm, he led her toward the stairs. “What was that you said about Zumba? When does that start?”

  “Jerk.” Laughing, she punched him lightly in the side.

  He waggled his brows. “Guess I have some stuff to make up to you too. Let’s go get started.”

  “Wait.” She stopped. “We need to talk more about this.”

  “Do you want me to tell you that you’re not taking Roch’s place in my life? That I don’t have some kind of fixation on older women or something?”

  Her focus on his face never wavered. “Yes.”

  “Fine.” He took her shoulders and turned her toward him. “You couldn’t be less like Roch if you tried. If I was trying to find another one of her, you’d be my last choice. You’re a piss-poor replacement.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “The only people in this hallway are you and me. Let’s enjoy that for a while and stop inviting unwanted guests, okay?”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “It is easy. I’m falling for you.” Already fallen, he amended silently. “Your brother and best friend got married. And evidently, I need to keep an eye on your car right down to the gas tank.”

  Her lips tugged upward. “One of those things is not like the others.”

  “No. I’m also not like the other men you’ve been with.” He thought of what Brad had said about Kim’s usual speeches. They didn’t apply here. He would prove to her that she had made the right choice. “I’m going to be the best man I can be every day we’re together. You deserve a man worth holding on to.”

  “You already are that man. It’s just… Michael, the last time I moved this fast with a guy, I got knocked up and married within a month. That didn’t end well.”

  “This is different. We had a wedding today, just not ours. You won’t be getting knocked up but we can practice the process. A lot.” Thinking of Telly, he smiled. “We might be inheriting an offspring of sorts, though. With feathers. Think he’ll be okay with my cats?”

  “Oh yeah, birds and cats go together swell.” Snorting, she shook her head. “Why are you asking about Telly, though? He’s going with Sara and Brad.”

  “Not according to what Brad said on the phone when I called. Evidently their new place in Laramie is pet-free.”

  “You called him because of me?”

  He shrugged. “I needed advice about you.” />
  “Stop asking other people. Next time, we’ll figure things out together.” She stroked his wrist. “So is parenting Telly together part of falling for you? You’re like the damn bird whisperer.”

  His smile grew. He hadn’t expected to hear the words for a while. “You’re admitting you’ve fallen for me?”

  She flushed. Actually flushed. If he hadn’t been in love already, her pink cheeks would’ve sealed it. “Yes. I’m in deep, Montgomery. It’s all your fault.”

  “I’ll happily take that blame since it turns out I’m in pretty deep as well. Guess we’ll have to figure it out together.” He kissed the top of her head. “Just tell me if you start feeling lost, little girl,” he murmured, hoping she remembered.

  “Nope, not lost,” she said, echoing her first words to him that day after class. “I was waiting for you.”

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Cari Quinn wrote her first story—a bible parable—in 2nd grade, much to the delight of the nuns at her Catholic school. Once she saw the warm reception that first tale garnered, she was hooked. Now she gets to pen sexy romances for a living and routinely counts her lucky stars. When she’s not scribbling furiously, she can usually be found watching men’s college basketball, playing her music way too loud or causing trouble. Sometimes simultaneously. Cari loves hearing from readers. Please visit her at www.cariquinn.com and sign up for her brand-new newsletter!

  Look for these titles by Cari Quinn

  Now Available:

  Afternoon Delight

  Dirty Distractions

  Deuces Wild

  Protecting His Assets

  Guarding His Heart

  Proving His Worth

  She wants a fling, and he wants forever…

  Dirty Distractions

  © 2013 Cari Quinn

  Zoologist Sara Carmichael’s active social life is the envy of all her friends, but she has a secret. She’s bored senseless. If she has to go to one more bird sanctuary fundraiser with some guy who thinks his little sports car makes him “hip”, she’ll scream.

  Enter Brad O’Halloran, her best friend Kim’s much younger brother. A guy who’s picking up the pieces after a quickie marriage and even quicker divorce. A guy so hot he makes her body scream with frustration.

  Until Sara’s apartment is renovated, they’re all living at Kim’s place. Despite her determination not to salivate at glimpses of Brad’s finer-than-fine body in nothing but a low-slung towel, flirtation escalates to the brink of something more.

  Now one of them has to back down…or ante up for some good, dirty fun with the unspoken understanding that when the time comes, they’ll make a clean break. Neither anticipated they’d make the most complicated connection of all—love.

  Warning: This book contains a hero who knows how to make engines—and women—purr, seduction while on cold meds, and a heroine who might be a little older but still enjoys learning a few naughty new tricks.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Dirty Distractions:

  In the three months, fifteen days and handful of hours since she’d last had sex, Sara Carmichael had thought of little else. Maybe not every minute, but way more frequently than usual. And the co-star of those fantasies was the grinning, often grease-spattered man currently ogling her from a few feet away across her best friend’s backyard.

  Sara reclined in the chaise lounge by Kim’s pool and brought her cell phone close to her face, as if she were mesmerized by the scores of last night’s game. Instead she peered over the top of her phone, tracking the way Brad O’Halloran’s gaze tracked her as she idly ran her toes along her left calf.

  She always felt exposed around him, though her basic black swimsuit didn’t exactly promise carnal delights. It was a bikini, true, but at forty-two, she doubted the under-thirty set would be getting erections looking at her curves.

  Brad was under thirty. He also seemed tall enough to block out the sun as he rose and strode over to her, though she suspected her own modest five-foot-three height made it seem as if he were taller. As often covered in grease as he was in aftershave, Brad didn’t skimp on all those man pheromones that set a woman’s nose twitching.

  Or her nipples hardening, depending.

  As far as things went, Brad was a pretty good catch. A business owner, intelligent, pleasant to talk to. He was beyond hot. Sizzling. Scorching. And yet still really young.

  Dammit.

  “You’re going to go cross-eyed if you keep staring at that phone, Sara Smile.”

  Sara Smile again. The old eighties song had come on one day earlier that summer and Brad had immediately adopted the nickname for her, probably in the hopes of driving her nuts. It was working.

  She’d never had a nickname before. Sara was a utilitarian name, a proper moniker for a competent, professional woman whose life was normal in every way. Normal, familiar and predictable.

  Well, not that predictable. At least to outsiders she appeared to be having the time of her life. She loved her job. She dated, and most of the guys she met were nice enough. If she was a little restless sometimes, a bit unsatisfied, that was to be expected.

  “You’re standing in my light,” she protested, nudging him away with her elbow without looking where she was aiming. Her jab went a little high, glancing off his thigh perilously close to the bulge in his faded jeans.

  “Hey, hey. Watch it.”

  “Sorry.”

  She stared at her phone and hoped he’d leave. Didn’t a guy like him have women to chase on a hot Sunday afternoon? Since he was recently divorced—after a marriage that had lasted less time than a TV sweeps period—surely he needed to reassert his dominance on the dating scene.

  While she’d gotten to know a lot about Brad as a person, she didn’t know a lot about his love life, other than the occasional rumor that hinted he was a stranger to celibacy. She and Kim had become fast friends when Sara moved to Fairdale, Pennsylvania three years ago to work at the Fairdale Bird Sanctuary. Kim worked in the sanctuary’s gift shop and had helped Sara get used to a new home far from her family and friends back in Idaho.

  Due to the timing of their simultaneous singledom, Brad and Kim had made the decision to temporarily live together while they fixed up their mother’s old Victorian home to sell. Two months ago Sara had taken over the spare bedroom after she’d lost her own apartment to building renovations. Telly, her conure, couldn’t tolerate paint fumes, so she’d gratefully accepted Kim’s offer to stay with them for a while.

  Some nights the three of them would pop in a movie and share some popcorn and laugh their asses off about nothing. Kim and Brad were awesome roomies, and Sara wasn’t in any hurry to leave. She’d even told her landlord he could finish the renos at his own pace because she was so happy with her new arrangement. Being with them had offered her a respite from her solitary life, and she had no intention of ending the party early.

  But lately Brad had bumped up the amount of time he spent around her when Kim wasn’t around—especially the amount of time he spent staring at her. Seductively. Almost daring her to make a move.

  She hadn’t responded to his advances. And she wouldn’t, because of Kim, among other reasons. What friend wanted their much-younger brother to be cougar bait? Just because they were living like freewheeling college students didn’t alter her status as a respectable professional.

  Who happened to lust after a guy she should’ve seen as a brother.

  It was probably the low-slung towels he paraded around in after his showers. That had to be it. His damn ripped stomach would turn a virgin into a nympho. And she was no virgin.

  “Kiss for your thoughts.” Brad grinned and dropped down at the end of her chair, sitting very close to her legs. She hastily scooted over, but he only used the extra room to sprawl.

  Sara rolled her eyes. “I don’t kiss little boys.” Shit. She hadn’t meant to say something so mean—especially not with that note of challenge in her tone.

  Brad’s grin widened
. “Little’s not a word that’s ever been used to describe me.”

  She didn’t blush or fidget at his reply. Years of schmoozing at fundraisers and events with the public had taught her well. She had a pretty good game face and knew he wouldn’t be able to decipher her reaction. But her pulse quickened, and the sudden dryness in her throat contrasted sharply with the surge of moisture between her thighs.

  “I wasn’t referring to height.”

  His grin deepened. So charming. So utterly cocky. “Me either.”

  Deciding she’d had enough of his attempts to flirt or whatever the hell he was doing, she lifted her brows. “I’m forty-two. I’ve seen a lot. A lot,” she emphasized, though it was only recently she’d seen much of anything. And most of what she’d seen she’d already forgotten.

  That was partially because she’d given up having men over when she’d moved in with Kim. It seemed awkward, and she didn’t relish meeting Brad over coffee the next morning while her sheets still smelled like another guy’s aftershave. It felt…weird. So she’d accepted her love life would consist of sleepovers at the guy’s place until she grew out of her need to live with her friends as if she were twenty all over again. She wasn’t seeing any man in particular right now anyway. None of them interested her enough.

  Did that make her fickle or impossible to please? She wasn’t sure. But she hadn’t given up looking for that guy who would make her pulse race faster.

  Kind of like Brad’s doing now?

  “And yet you’re single. So I’m thinking what you’ve seen hasn’t been worthy of making you stick around. Am I right?”

  “I almost got married before I moved here,” she said, surprised again at what came out of her mouth. Somehow she’d developed a disconnect between her brain and her vocal cords.

  “Yeah? What happened?”

  “According to my ex, I ran away to play with endangered birds.”

  He laughed, tipping his head so his longish, dark blond hair tumbled into his eyes. They seemed caught between gray and blue, as if even his irises were incapable of making up their minds. Just like Brad, if rumors could be believed.