“We need to talk about this,” he said, his voice low. He cursed the uncertainty he heard in it. She’d also heard it, for she dipped her head coyly and stared up at him through lush, dark lashes.
“Discuss kissing?”
Her tone was innocent, but she most certainly wasn’t. She was trying to seduce him and had been all night. It was all he could do to not pop a boner on the dancefloor with her earlier. Right now, all he wanted was to take her up on her offer and ravage her in every way he could conceive. By some miracle, he managed to uphold his serious expression.
“As if we’re only talking about kissing here. I know you know I want you, but there’s much we need to discuss first.”
His answer upset her but her nonchalant mask resurfaced in a flash. “Okay. Well, I’m a little sticky after all that dancing. I’d like to take a shower. How about if we meet in the kitchen in about fifteen minutes?”
“Deal. I’ll put some coffee on.”
With another sexy smile, she turned and walked to the entrance of her apartment, her hips swaying invitingly. Damn it, Collins! What have you gotten yourself into now? He still wasn’t sure but was determined to find out. While he had plenty of questions, he didn’t expect her to be forthcoming with answers. He expected her to dodge his questions, give false but plausible responses, and try to seduce him before he gained the information he wanted. As he pulled at the sudden tight fit of his jeans at the crotch, he wasn’t certain he wanted to fight her seduction.
16
Sauntering into the kitchen in a tight tank top and boy cut shorts, Zoë purposely brushed past Ethan on her way to the counter. It had been chilly outdoors in her scanty apparel, but she’d wanted him to see as much of her body as possible while still dressed. Besides, the cold air had caused her nipples to stiffen, something she was sure he’d noticed by now. He wanted answers, but she couldn’t divulge them. So, while she’d agreed to this discussion, her plan was to seduce him and make him forget his questions. She didn’t see anything wrong with using her body—something he also wanted—to achieve her goal. It was risky, sure, and he could have an adverse reaction to her attempts, but she was betting on his penis overriding his brain.
As she reached for a mug on an upper shelf, she pushed up on her toes, tightening her leg and glute muscles for him, knowing he was watching. Vessel in hand, she slowly turned, filled the mug, and then headed to the fridge for milk. Her movements were purposeful, with an added slight bounce to jiggle the parts she knew he’d eye the most. Then she joined him, kitty-corner to him, and, holding the mug in her hands, leaned over the island to rest her forearms on it, squeezing her breasts between her elbows, certain he’d notice the ample cleavage she displayed. He noticed. His eyes rested on her breasts a moment before slowly making their way to her face. The serious expression he wore caused her stomach to flip for, despite his visual inspection of her, he didn’t appear receptive to her ploy.
“Let’s drop the pretenses,” he said. “I don’t need to be seduced, so you can cut the vixen act.”
She straightened up and shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. He was too astute for her game of seduction and she worried this conversation would go south fast. As she leaned a hip against the island, she tried to appear unaffected by his words. “Fine. No games, no pretenses. What did you want to do instead, bend me over the island?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” he admitted. His eyes roamed over her again, slowly moving down her body and then going back up even slower. He seemed to visually examine every inch of her and the deliberate way he did so turned her on. Most men would snatch furtive glances, but he boldly explored her body with his eyes, so intently she could almost feel his touch. When his eyes met hers again, he placed his mug on the island and then crossed his arms.
Freshly shaved and showered, his hair still damp and slicked back, he was a tantalizing sight, and the scent of the masculine soap he’d used filled her nostrils invitingly. He wore a white T-shirt, along with flannel pajama bottoms, his feet bare. It was a casual look, even his posture was still somewhat relaxed, despite his tightly crossed arms, but there was nothing casual about his expression. His eyes were condemning as he spoke.
“You need to provide some answers, tonight, before we go any further. Yes, I want you, very much so, but you need to come clean here. You can start by telling me why you accepted a position so far beneath your obvious abilities.”
17
Ethan watched her reactions closely, looking for tells, and saw them. He’d thrown her for a loop with his demand. It was apparent in her sudden stiff posture, despite her still resting a hip casually against the island. Her demeanour was far from relaxed, and her tense features echoed the flicker of alarm he’d seen in her eyes.
“I just wanted a fresh start in a quiet place.”
“Bullshit,” he countered, “try again.”
He was making her extremely uncomfortable, but he had to stick to his guns. If she posed a danger to his ranch, he had to know, tonight, before he did something stupid like get involved with her. Still unsure what game she played, the obvious dread in her eyes cut through him. He’d seen nothing but confident behaviour from her and this sudden change was telling. The problem was, he wasn’t sure what it signalled, still unclear if she was a victim or a predator.
This past week he’d studied her whenever he could and had drawn two possible conclusions. The first was that she was on the run, fleeing an unwanted situation, maybe a person. He could handle that, hell, he’d help her out depending on the circumstances. While he doubted she’d run afoul of the law, it was a possibility and something he wouldn’t involve himself in. However, if she was a victim, he would help her face her fears and conquer them.
The second possibility was much less favourable to her, but seemed feasible nonetheless. She could be a con artist setting him up for a scam. He wasn’t filthy rich, but between the ranch and the land it sat upon, he was quite wealthy. She could be a grifter, and worming her way into his bed would be step one to accessing his finances.
“Something’s not right here, and it ends tonight. Come clean. If you’re setting me up for a scam, then pack your shit and leave. If you need help, then ask for it. I’m more resourceful than you realize.”
Her mask slipped again and this time she was much slower replacing it. His stomach dropped at what he’d seen. It was more than fear he’d detected in her eyes. He could swear he saw desolation there, too.
“I wasn’t setting you up for anything,” she said quietly, sounding unable to muster a stronger voice. “I’m not a con artist.”
Stiffly, she placed her mug in the sink and then turned back to him. She didn’t meet his eyes now, hers focused on the floor. “Thank you for giving me a chance, even if I did bully you into it. I’ll leave right away.”
The look on her face told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t a scammer and wasn’t setting him up for anything. She was scared. Although she tried to hide it, he could clearly read it in her reactions. Convinced she was running from something, all he wanted to do was help her.
The self-assured and confident woman he’d battled with this week was gone. The woman standing in his kitchen now was frightened and appeared lost. He wanted to kiss away her problems, give her security in his arms, safety in his embrace. Obviously it wouldn’t be enough, not for whatever plagued her, but he wanted to try. Though unsure of when he began to care, he did. He wanted to help her, soothe her. Not without some alarm, he recognized his need to rescue her.
Turning away from him, she appeared to force her feet forward. Devastated by the change in her, he called out before she got to the door, stilling her.
“Do you need help?”
She froze and her shoulders hunched up. “What?” Her voice was small, shaky, and rattled him. Whatever she faced was huge, that much was evident, but so was his desire to help her, if she’d let him.
“I told you to leave if you were running a scam and to ask for help if you
needed it. I know you’re not lying to me, I can see that now, so, do you need help? I’m willing to do what I can to help you, but you need to tell me how.”
Her head bowed and, while her shoulders relaxed, somehow the tension he felt from her increased. Perhaps she was debating confiding in him, he couldn’t be sure. He wished she’d turn so he could read her face and chanced drawing nearer to her. Stopping after two steps, not wanting to spook her, he watched her carefully, looking for any sign she’d relent and confide in him, or bolt. Unsure what he’d do if the latter occurred, he waited, willing her to comply with his wishes.
“You can’t,” she replied finally, “not with this.” She sighed deeply and then shook her head. “I can’t involve you in this, I won’t. I appreciate you wanting to help me, but I can’t let you.”
Slowly, he closed the distance between them until he stood behind her. Apprehension seemed to snap around her but, despite his desire to soothe her, he refrained from touching her. The fear of her running from him stilled the calming touch he wished to bestow.
“Stay,” he simply said.
“I can’t confide in you.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper but spoke volumes nonetheless. She knew he was an ex-cop, knew Boone still worked for the RCMP, and yet felt she couldn’t turn to them for help. It was possible the reason for her hesitancy was due to her committing a crime, but he couldn’t imagine that being the case. All that was left was her running from danger, one she seemed to believe she could inflict on him if she involved him in her troubles. It seemed bigger than fleeing a possessive ex, much bigger. While he still wanted to be involved and help her, he had to calm her first. Visibly agitated, she was akin to a cornered deer and would flee given the first opportunity. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Fine, but don’t leave. Whatever this is, it’s obviously huge. If you won’t confide in me, that’s your choice and I’ll respect it, but don’t leave if you’re in danger. Stay.”
18
Zoë sucked in a shaky breath. She had to get away from Ethan. The warmth of his body behind her was too tempting, and his offer too inviting. He wanted to protect and help her, intentions that tore her heart asunder for she couldn’t let him. She wasn’t sure where she’d slipped up, but she obviously had. He’d seen right through her, despite how careful she’d been. His believing she could be setting him up for a scam had stung, for hurting him had never been her intention. Yes, she’d been using him, she’d lied to secure her job and had every intention of maintaining that lie until she could leave the ranch, but she hadn’t intended her actions to wound him. Her safe refuge was gone and her backup plan, that of heading to the territories, wasn’t appealing but was all left at her disposal.
Unable to meet his eyes, too fearful of what she’d see in them, she wanted him to think the best of her and, if she saw the disappointment she’d heard in his voice echoed in his eyes, it would crush her. While uncertain when his opinions began to affect her, it hardly mattered now. Oh, how she wanted to accept his offer, stay at the ranch, and be with him. She tried to move her feet forward. Her body seemed to override her brain, refusing to move. Her mind though, held fast to the devastating truth. It was unfair to involve him in her mess, to endanger him. No, she had to leave. Right now. He was too close and, if he touched her, she’d never find the strength to go, despite knowing that leaving was the right thing to do.
Too late, his hand descended on her shoulder and sent shockwaves of comfort spiraling through her. It exceeded the physical gratification she’d wanted. He was offering more than sex, but accepting his offer could only be harmful to them both.
“I can’t.”
“You can,” he insisted. “Keep your secrets, it’s okay. Just stay where you’re safe.”
A second hand covered her other shoulder and he squeezed both gently. Arousal spiked within her as her body responded to his closeness, and his words. She was safe here, and she wanted to stay. The insistence that—now that he’d caught on to her deceit—staying would only result in him pushing for answers to the questions she refused to answer fought her libido for control. Sex wasn’t worth possibly endangering his life.
He planted a sweet kiss under her ear and it sent shivers down her spine. “Stay. Be with me. I want you in my bed and I want to wake up to you tomorrow morning. I’m not offering you anything more than my body, a job, and a place to live, but you can have those as long as you like.”
Her body responded to his words as her mind challenged them, wondering if that offer would remain as such. She’d wanted a sex-only arrangement with him, but wasn’t certain that could transpire without him pushing to find out about her past. Obviously curious, already offering to help with it, he wasn’t the type of man to let things go. As he nibbled gently on her ear, she couldn’t stop her body from relaxing, and she pressed her back to his chest, feeling his hardness against her, the material of their clothing a thin but frustrating barrier.
“Stay,” he repeated, “be with me.”
The last of her resolve crumbling, she turned to face him. Seeing the raw want in his eyes, she cupped his face and pulled him toward her waiting lips. As they connected, a low grunt escaped him. He pulled her tightly against him, then wrapped his arms around her. His tongue pushed into her mouth and she welcomed it, running hers over it. Their hands mimicked the sensual dance of their tongues as they groped one another, both apparently eager to touch the other everywhere at once, impossible as their goal was. Grasping her ass tightly, he ground against her as her fingertips raked through his hair.
Breaking their kiss, his lips nibbled a trail down the side of her neck and she arched it toward him, her lips mourning his absence, but her body welcomed him. His hands pulled at the material of her tight tank top.
“Tear it,” she rasped. His answering moan shot straight to her yearning sex. Taking a hold of the top, he tore it open, releasing her breasts, and then covered a nipple with his mouth, licking and suckling it. Abruptly, he stepped back from her.
“Fuck, I’m so hard, I can’t do this. I have to slow down.” Running his hand over his tented pants, he shook his head. “I can’t control myself around you.”
Blowing out a breath, puffing his cheeks, he was the sexiest sight she’d ever laid eyes on. She smiled lewdly, ran a finger down his chest, and then glanced at his erection before engaging his eyes again.
“How about if I take care of your problem for you?”
“You’re killing me. I can’t believe how much you turn me on.” His eyes hungrily lapped up the sight of her exposed breasts as he ran a hand over himself again. When they locked gazes, the hunger in his called to her. “I love how confident you are,” he said, his voice raspy, “standing there, exposed, and making no move to cover up.”
After issuing a lusty grin, she slowly shed her ravaged top and dropped it on the floor. Gliding her hands down her torso, she slipped them into the waistband of her shorts and leisurely pushed them over her hips, keeping her eyes connected with his. Bit by bit, she eased them down her legs and then stepped out of them.
Standing proudly before him, she welcomed his first sight of her naked form. His eyes greedily lapped up every visible inch of her, pausing over her shaved mons before staring at her breasts. When his eyes met hers again, he grazed his teeth over his bottom lip.
“You’re deliberately teasing me,” he accused.
“You said you wanted to slow things down.”
“Oh, Zoë, you’re trouble. I know you are, but I can’t hold back. I’ve been wanting you all week, I swear I’ve been hard since the interview, and I can’t wait any longer.”
“I want you too, more than you can imagine. We need ground rules though.”
Tilting his head, his lips curved up. “You wait until you’re naked, standing there, knowing I’m dying to be inside you, before announcing that? Bold move, sweetheart. A lesser man would think you’ve been planning this.”
“Hardly, but now that we’re here, I
’m serious. This will be sex only. You offered me your body and you need to understand that’s all I’m offering in return.”
“Fine,” he agreed with a bob of his head.
“And I won’t answer your questions about my past. I can’t.”
“That one’s harder,” he admitted, “but if you’re that intent on keeping your past a secret then so be it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I promise not to push you to reveal anything you don’t want to.”
“Okay.”
“Okay as in everything’s settled and we can screw now?” he asked with a sly smile.
“Yes,” she confirmed as she returned her version of the gesture, “we can screw now.”
Before she could react, he scooped her up and placed her over his shoulder, her stomach to it, her head dangling by his butt. Holding her firmly, he left the kitchen and she couldn’t help but release a soft laugh. He certainly was eager to get going. As he reached the staircase, she swatted his ass playfully.
“Ooh, you’re asking for it.” His voice was husky.
“Ride me, cowboy,” she shot back, and then laughed again.
Done a Runner (Wanted Men of Bison Bluffs Book 1) Page 7
