Harlequin E Contemporary Romance Box Set Volume 2: Maid to CraveAll I HaveThe Last First DateLight My Fire

by Rebecca M. Avery

  He smudged his thumb over her lips and gazed at the flecks of gold in her eyes. “Jess?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m out of gas.”

  Her smile came slow but sure. “Yeah, I’m pretty talked out, too. Maybe we can think of something else to do?”

  “No. I mean I’m out of gas.” He released her long enough to give the ignition another impatient twist.

  Her jaw dropped again, but this time her disbelief was divided between him and the car. She zeroed in on him at last. “What? Was this your plan? Get Bubble Gum Barbie drunk at your fancy-schmancy party then accidentally ‘run out of gas’ on the way home?”

  “No!”

  “Oh. My. God. Here I was telling you to use the stretch and sneeze move, and you probably invented the damn thing!”

  He tried to throw his hands in the air, but his fingertips scraped the headliner and bounced right back. “Why are you yelling at me?”

  “Because we had to stop fooling around!”

  Her pronouncement brought the argument to an abrupt halt. Spontaneous bursts of laughter erupted simultaneously. Lang gathered her close, pressing his chin to the top of her head as they let the absurdity of the evening carry them away. Tears seeped from Jessica’s eyes when she peeled herself from his chest, but an enormous smile lit her face.

  He shook his head in helpless surrender, then kissed the teardrops from her cheeks. “You’re the girl I want to run out of gas with.”

  “Good thing, because, like I said before, you’re stuck with me.”

  “I think I’d like to be stuck with you more, Jessica.”

  Her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know why. I feel like I’m a complete mess right now.”

  “Yes, you are,” he agreed. “And still, you’re probably the sanest woman I’ve ever met.”

  “That’s not saying much for your social circle.”

  He grimaced. “Well, I am a cop. I spend most of my time with criminals and lowlifes.”

  She took a swat at his chest and flopped back in the seat. Pressing her forehead to the window, she stared at the jaunty red scarf tied to the front door, drew a deep breath and reached for the door handle. “Zip up, Langley. It’s time to storm the castle.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jessica was already halfway up the walk before Lang managed to skate to the curb. The ice-crusted scarf flapped in the breeze and she charged straight at it like a half-drunk, partially frozen bull with a head full of steam and a hairdo that looked like it came from a blender.

  Christ, he wanted her bad. After months and months of searching, he thought he might have found a woman he wanted to know better. One woman. Maybe the one. There was no way he would let her get away now.

  “Wait!”

  She turned to look at him, one foot propped on a shallow cement step. His fondness for those baggy track pants increased exponentially when he saw the way they pulled across her round bottom. She hugged the ugly pink coat to her chest and shivered. “Well, come on.”

  The howling wind only sharpened the impatience in her tone, but he was glad to hear it. The edge of irk lurking under the prompt meant he was more than welcome to join her quest; he was expected. Slipping and sliding his way up the walk, he skidded to a stop next to her, grasping the handrail for backup. Their eyes locked. His chest heaved with exertion and excitement. The sidewalk proved treacherous at best, but chasing the woman standing next to him was sure to be exhilarating at worst. He brushed a windswept lock of hair from her cheek. The gesture was futile, but her winsome smile told him he scored an A for effort.

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  “We can’t stay out here any longer. My mother is just going to have to pull on her big girl panties,” she muttered as she stepped onto the porch. She yanked one end of the scarf and it unraveled. The glow of the porch light caught the explosion of crystalline sparkles. She wadded the crusted yarn into a ball and tucked it under her arm before inserting her key in the lock. “You’d better stay here a sec,” she said as the door swung open. “I need to make sure she’s wearing panties at all.”

  The wind almost made off with her parting shot, but Lang caught it. Propping his shoulder against the doorframe, he absorbed the blast of heat that rolled out into the damp, cold night. Jessica’s cautious calls went unanswered. A quick trip down a narrow hall resulted in nothing more than a puzzled frown etched between her brows.

  “I don’t think she’s here.” She tossed the hideous pink coat onto the rack in the corner of the entry and waved him into the warm house, whirling to conquer the next room. “Mom?”

  She led him into a cheerful kitchen with sage green walls and ruffled curtains on the windows. Once again, they came up empty. Stopping short in the center of the room, Jessica planted her hands on her hips and turned in a slow circle, oblivious to the tail of the scarf winding its way around her legs like a snake. “Huh.”

  “Uh-uh.” He lunged to grab her arm before she could take another step. Gently uncoiling the tangled scarf, he drew the wet wool from her hand and draped it over the end of the breakfast bar. She shot him a quizzical glance that he answered with a smirk. “The way this night is going, that thing was about to snag us a trip to the E.R.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “She’s not home at all?”

  “Bedroom door is open. Half her closet still on the bed.”

  Lang shook his head. “What was with the scarf, then? Was it there when you left?”

  “No. And I left after she did.”

  She toed off the wet canvas tennis shoes and kicked them toward the back door. One pinkie toe shone a brighter pink than the others, chafed from its exposure to harsh elements. Pressing a blinking button on the wall-mounted phone, she covered one foot with the other as a disembodied voice informed them that there was one unheard message waiting for them.

  “Vicki? It’s Miranda. You left your scarf at the juice bar. I’ll bring it by on our way out tonight. You and Justin have a wonderful time tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she trilled. A long beep punctuated the sentiment.

  Jessica huffed as the answering machine switched off. She reached for the cell phone on the counter and unplugged the cord. “I hate it when people say that. Why do people say that? How am I supposed to know what they do, and why would I want to know?”

  Lang cringed at the visual image of Ernie Biggins putting the moves on anyone. “Stupid thing to say.”

  “So stupid. At least the mystery of the red scarf is solved, Detective.” Her fingers pecked at the cell phone’s display. “Another message on here.” She tapped her bare toes as she waited for her voicemail to connect.

  “Your mom’s name is Vicki Vickers?”

  “Nope. My mom’s name is Clara Vickers, but she likes people to call her Vicki because it makes her seem younger.”

  “Huh.”

  His involuntary grunt earned a smile. “Tell me about it.”

  She slid him a sly glance that said “come hither” loud and clear. He tried to obey, but at the last second she halted his progress by planting a hand square in the center of his chest.

  Her brow crinkled and her knuckles glowed white as she gripped the phone tighter and turned her face away. “Oh God.”

  He could only stare as her jaw dropped and her cheeks flushed bright red. Jessica tucked her chin to her chest and took three slow, deliberate breaths before she raised her eyes to meet his.

  Careful not to step on her bare toes, he inched a little closer and ran his hand down her arm. Tangling his fingers in hers, he squeezed gently. “What? What is it?”

  “You’re not going to believe this.” She lowered the phone and tapped a couple more buttons. A woman’s voice drifted from the speaker.

  “Sweetie? It’s Mom.” Jessica’s mother’s voice sounded hushed, as if she were trying to place the call without anyone listening in. “Honey, I just wanted to let you know that I saw the signal and it’s all good.” His startled gaze
met hers, but Jessica simply nodded toward the phone. “I’m so happy you decided to go out tonight. I know things have been rough for you lately, but we all know that He-who-shall-remain-nameless was never the right guy for you. I’m so happy you were able to forget about him and Whatshername and their Elvis impersonator—”

  Lang blinked. “Elvis impersonator?”

  She waved it off. “Ex-boyfriend getting hitched in Vegas, remember?”

  “—you’re too young and too beautiful to be sad. I’m so happy you decided to go out and live your life. It’s good that you’re having a little fling.” She paused to draw a deep breath then plunged ahead. “As a matter of fact, I want you to get flung straight into the new year.”

  His head popped up and his gaze sought hers once more, but Jessica carefully evaded.

  “I love you, baby. I’ll be home in the morning, but not too early. Have a wonderful time.” There was a short pause and then a girly giggle. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  The message ended, but Jessica could only stare at the phone. “See? There’s a whole train of thought I don’t even want to board.”

  The quiet thoughtfulness in her tone spoke to him. Turning to face her, Lang decided it was time to toss his hat into the ring, once and for all, and hope for the best. “I don’t want to be a fling.” Her head jerked up. “I don’t.”

  “Okay.”

  Shuffling his feet, he positioned himself square in front of her and grasped her arms in both hands. “I told you what I’m looking for.”

  Her eyes widened and he saw the flash of panic streak through her consciousness like lightning. It sparked a rumble of laughter that started in his belly and rolled like thunder.

  “I’m not asking you to marry me, Jessica. But I want to be clear that’s where I’m headed. I hope.” He took a step back, giving her some space to make her decision. “I’m asking for a date, and no, our fake third date tonight doesn’t count. If that date goes well, we can try another. I’m all for the…flinging, but I think I like you, and I don’t want whatever time we might spend getting to know each other to be all about…getting flung.”

  “Okay.” The agreement seeped from her lips so softly she seemed startled by its quiet intensity. She wet her lips. “But does that mean you don’t want to…” She trailed off, her hand fluttering between them before falling to grasp the untucked tail of his shirt and giving it a meaningful tug.

  A slow smile spread. “Fling you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Closing in on her again, he pulled her against his chest. He tipped her face up with one finger crooked under her chin and stared straight into those earnest hazel eyes. “You have no idea how bad I want to fling you.”

  She smiled, her lips curving and her eyes lighting with mischief. “If I promise to go to dinner with you some other night, will you fling me now?”

  He narrowed his eyes, gauging the sincerity of her offer while his stifled libido chomped at the bit. “You think I’m that easy?”

  “I suspect you may be,” she whispered. Rising to the tips of her toes, she brushed her lips over his. “Judging by what happened a little bit ago, I’m pretty sure you are.”

  He kissed her hard and fast, then pulled away. It was meant to be both punishment and reward all wrapped up in one patently unsatisfying package, and damn it, it worked.

  “As a matter of fact, I bet I could pick you up faster than a pack of gum.”

  “That’s it.” Stooping, he braced his shoulder at hip level and flexed his knees, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. Jessica laughed as he stalked toward the hall. “Where?”

  “Second door on the left. The one with the clothes on the floor, not the bed.”

  Her description proved to be entirely accurate. Twisted clothing littered the floor and a teetering stack of folded laundry threatened to topple from a basket. He dropped her onto the unmade bed then followed her down, bracing his hands on either side of her head. “You’re a slob.”

  “I am. Still want to fling me?”

  “So bad I can taste it.” He shrugged out of his suit coat and tossed it toward one of the piles of clothing. “I want to taste you.”

  She gave him a sultry smile. “Yes, please.”

  * * *

  Jessica sighed as he kissed one corner of her mouth then the other in a blatant and unapologetic attempt to seduce her into opening to the possibility to having more with him. It worked. She reached for his hands, threading her fingers through his and holding on tight when he stretched them high above her head. A girly sigh escaped her as she absorbed his full weight. She wound her legs around his, keeping him right there. Just where she wanted him. At least, where her body wanted him. Her brain was still wondering if she had one foot aboard the crazy train.

  “Lang?”

  Undeterred by the note of caution in her voice, he trailed a wicked-hot string of kisses along her jaw, stopping just beneath her ear. Hot, moist breath whispered across her skin. He caught her earlobe with his teeth and gave it a tantalizing nibble. “I know it’s too fast, but dammit, I tried to slow down before and you wouldn’t let me.”

  He shifted slightly to the left, and the slight adjustment obliterated all doubt. Her breasts flattened against his wide chest. Hard thighs parted hers farther. Their bodies aligned perfectly.

  Sighing, she hung on tight as he lowered his head again. But instead of kissing her hot and deep, he toyed with her, tasting her upper lip before showering the same attention on the bottom. This time she injected a note of warning into his name. Chuckling he surged against her, the hard ridge of his cock hitting the sweet spot just as his tongue swept into her mouth.

  Lang spread their arms, pinning her open wide as his tongue pillaged and plundered. She broke the kiss on a gasp. “Oh, you’re good at that.”

  He laughed and began to kiss his way down her neck, but she could see the faint tinge of a blush coloring the tips of his ears. She had to touch him. She needed to taste him. She wanted to see how far that blush might go.

  “Let me go.”

  His head jerked up, but his response was instantaneous. Freeing her hands, he pushed up, peeling his solid warmth from her.

  Having let her break the kiss, Lang stared at her with an intensity she felt burning into her soul. He took her hand from his shoulder and trapped it against his chest so she could feel the pounding of his heart. His silver eyes sparked. “This is right.”

  “This is so right,” she agreed.

  Their clasped hands caught between them, Jessica raised her head and kissed him passionately, offering him all she had. He groaned and slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt. His fingertips traced warm circles on her stomach, each stroke inching higher with torturous deliberation. Their tongues dueled for control. He pulled his mouth from hers the moment his fingers closed around her breast. He peppered her jaw and neck with urgent kisses.

  “I have to touch you,” she said breathlessly as she sought the buttons on his shirt. She freed two before the heat of his skin proved to be too much temptation. Her fingers spread wide, she ran her hands over his back, mapping the hard planes and marking his smooth muscles with her fingernails.

  He captured one greedy hand and drew it to his mouth. Eyes locked on hers, his lips grazed her knuckles. “I’m not going to hurry.”

  “I need you.”

  “I’m not going to hurry,” he repeated.

  “Okay, okay,” she panted as she clung to his back. “Let go of my hand.”

  “You’re fine with one for now.” He smiled. “If I let you have two, it’ll only lead to trouble.”

  Her strangled moan must have hit the spot because he let her go. Before she could draw a breath, he grasped the hem of her shapeless T-shirt and whisked it over her head. Jessica blinked in surprise. Suddenly self-conscious, she fought the urge to cover herself.

  “Whoa. Thought we weren’t in a hurry.”

  Lang’s mouth moved over the curve of her collarbone, ki
ssing it softly then opening his lips to tease her with his tongue. He cupped her other shoulder in his palm, smoothing the skin in small circles. “Who’s hurrying?”

  He pulled back and stared down at her. For one wild moment she wondered if the heat in his eyes might laser away the pesky freckles that dotted her chest. A lump rose in her throat when his eyes met hers again.

  “So beautiful.”

  Lang trailed his fingers across her collarbone and down the valley between her breasts, and she forgot how to breathe. Unable to look away, she followed the path of those teasing fingertips as they blazed a trail due south. Her stomach tensed and braced against his feathery light touch. The blunt tips bit into the soft flesh at her waist then slipped under the satin-covered elastic of her pants. He looked up at her from under his lashes.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  The track pants sailed across the room while the last hiss of the word still hung in the air. Sitting back on his heels, Lang pulled her hands to his chest. “Take my shirt off.”

  Jessica fumbled the last few buttons. Her palms skimmed the snug white tee, bunching the fabric under his arms while he struggled to free himself from the cuffs of his dress shirt. Her mouth was on him before the fabric touched the floor.

  His skin was hot. The lingering scent of aftershave and bar soap teased her senses. Sealing her approval with another kiss, she glanced up at him and saw him watching her with parted lips. She stared at him boldly as she let her tongue swirl over his skin. “Delicious.”

  “Yes,” Lang hissed between clenched teeth. “You are.”

  Before she could respond, she was flat on her back, his hard body covering hers, and the buckle of his belt cutting into her belly. Gratified by his decisive response, she reached up to stroke his arm. “You aren’t all muscle-bound, but you’re muscular and hard.”