Only for You (Sugar Lake Book 2)

by Melissa Foster

  It was time for desperate measures.

  Willow was right. After all these years, her body had come alive again, and she needed to do something about it. Thank goodness her brother, Ben, was picking her up tonight. Maybe she could drink Bodhi off her mind.

  She tried not to think about Bodhi as she showered, but if there was one thing she’d learned since he’d moved in, it was that if she didn’t take care of the hungry bunny between her legs, she’d be horny all night. She stood beneath the warm spray and closed her eyes, her mind sifting through images of that delicious man, on the sidewalk, crouched in her driveway, in the tree. Her hands moved down her belly, becoming his in her mind. His thick fingers slid between her legs, adeptly finding all the right spots. His voice whispered through her mind. Now I know where to find you. God, that voice . . . Yes. Find me. Make me come for you. Five years of self-gratification made her an expert, and Bodhi’s image quickly sent her soaring. She gripped the tile for stability as her body pulsed, and “Bodhi” sailed from her lips like a prayer.

  She dried off and heard her phone ringing. Darn it. She’d left it downstairs with her purse. Wrapped in a towel, she hurried down the steps. She’d left the front door open for Ben, and cool air swept over her legs, breezing in through the screen door. She hurried into the kitchen, arriving just as her phone stopped ringing. Ugh. As she filled a glass with water, her phone vibrated with a text from Piper. She read it as she took a sip. Where are you? Ben tried to call you, too. He’s running late. Remember to dress hot. No mom panties!

  Her sister had no idea what they were in for tonight. Bridgette was going to dress sexier than she had in years. If nothing else, a night of shameless flirting should clear her mind of Bodhi. Maybe then her body would calm down, and she could return to being a normal, sensible neighbor.

  She set her glass down and typed a response as she headed for the stairs. Sexy panties. Check! See you soon. She lifted her eyes from her phone and started at the sight of Bodhi standing on the other side of the screen door, wearing only his shorts and boots. Her traitorous body threw a celebration, making her hot and bothered again. Seriously? Now she needed another shower. A cold one.

  “Hi. Um, sorry,” he said, and turned his face away. “I just came by to borrow some sugar.”

  “Sugar?” Adrenaline pounded like a drum in her ears.

  He lifted an empty mug, his eyes gliding back to hers. “For coffee. I forgot to pick some up at the store and—” He waved at his body, which she realized was covered in sawdust. An incredible, deep laugh fell from his lips. “What is it about us and towels? Sorry. I’ll clean up and go to the store.”

  The mother in her said to let him go, but the passionate woman he’d unleashed reared her wild head and pushed the door open. “Get in here. I have sugar.”

  The house seemed to close in around them as he followed her into the kitchen. She heard every footstep, every breath, felt his powerful presence keeping his distance as she reached for the sugar in the top cabinet.

  He cursed under his breath. “Let me.” His hand swallowed her wrist as he lowered it. “You reach up like that, and I’m going to get one hell of a show.”

  He kept hold of her, standing so close she could smell his musky male scent. If she leaned forward, she could taste him. Now, there was an idea.

  A bad one.

  Neighbor. Neighbor. Neighbor.

  He watched her intently as he set the sugar bowl on the counter. His gaze moved to his hand, and he released her wrist. She instantly missed the heat of his touch, though the inferno raging between them had her palms sweating.

  Needing something to do with her hands besides touching him, she opened the top of the container. “How sweet do you like?”

  His eyes smoldered. “Very. Sweet and hot.”

  Oh Lord. She began scooping sugar into his mug, and he grabbed her hand, stopping her. He was handsy. She’d forgotten how much she loved handsy.

  “Too much?” she asked breathlessly.

  He shook his head, eyes locked on hers.

  She swallowed hard. She was a mother and had gone through childbirth. She could handle anything. Including this fast-burning wick of dynamite between them.

  “Bodhi?”

  His massive chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. “Bridgette.”

  “We seem to have a problem.” Oh God. Did she really say that out loud? That’s what being a mother did to a woman. Wasn’t she always teaching Louie to use his words and not to be afraid to express himself? She had a bone to pick with her own mother for teaching her those things.

  He cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. The man didn’t need a voice, because heaven help her, she wanted to experience a horizontal conversation with him. No words necessary.

  But right now words were necessary. “We can’t be near each other without—”

  “I know.” His jaw twitched, and he looked at his hand, still clutching hers.

  “’Kay” was all she could manage.

  Her phone vibrated, and she started. He remained still as a statue.

  “That’s my . . . I’m late . . . Ben’s coming.”

  With a curt nod, he grabbed his mug and headed for the door. “Thanks for the sugar.”

  Bridgette’s breath rushed from her lungs. She hadn’t realized she was trembling. Or damp between her legs. Oh man, one cold shower coming up . . .

  NO AMOUNT OF exercise could break the spell a certain sexy blonde had cast on Bodhi. He’d been this close to claiming that pretty mouth of hers, but the name Ben had snapped his idiot brain into submission. He’d gone for a run, worked out harder than he had in ages, and taken a frigid shower. But the thought of Bridgette and another man had him tied in knots. After today’s scorching encounter, he wasn’t about to sit around wondering what they were doing. He needed a diversion.

  He gave Dahlia a kiss on her snout, locked up the house, and headed for the local pub by the marina. He’d met the owner, Harley Dutch, when he and his mother had first visited Sweetwater, and had been surprised to learn that Harley had moved from New York City to help his family out when his father had fallen ill. Four years later he was still there. Harley had pretty much sold them on Sweetwater.

  The parking lot was packed, reminding him it was the start of a weekend. Days of the week hadn’t meant much to Bodhi in years. In his line of work, he showed up when he was needed and didn’t think about days, nights, or anything other than the mission until it was over. Time in between assignments could be a few weeks or a few months. He always prayed for the latter, hoping those serving their country were safe.

  He pulled open the heavy wooden door, greeted by the din of the dimly lit bar. He made his way through a crowd of couples bumping and grinding to a fast beat. Women smiled at him, trying to hook the big fish. At six three, with a body made for war, he stood out in a crowd. As a badass twentysomething, he’d loved the attention. But at thirty-four, he liked his privacy. Unfortunately, sitting next door to the empty house of the woman he wanted in his bed led to frustration. Tonight, distraction won out over privacy.

  He leaned on the end of the bar and flagged down the burly bar owner.

  Harley flashed a friendly smile. “The usual?”

  “Sounds good. Thanks.” Bodhi wasn’t a big drinker, but Harley had turned him on to a locally brewed beer that hit the spot.

  “Things are busy tonight. I’ll put it on your tab.” Harley set a bottle down in front of him. “How are the renovations going?”

  “Coming along. There’s a lot to do, but I’ll get there.” He took a swig of his drink as Harley went to help another customer. A brunette at the other end of the bar was eyeing him seductively. If only he were an asshole, he could pick up a random chick and bang the thoughts of Bridgette out of his system. But he’d sowed those oats, and he had no desire to be that guy again.

  “Bodhi?”

  He turned at the sound of a familiar voice, and it took him a second to place Aurelia outside the bookstore, and in Sw
eetwater instead of New York City. Her short black dress threw him off, too. Every time he’d seen her she’d been wearing jeans and Converse. “I didn’t recognize you without a book in your hand. How’s it going?”

  She tucked her long brown hair behind her ear. “I’m great, thanks. So, you really did it? You came to check out the town for your mother?”

  “Actually, I bought her a place up the road. I’m just here fixing it up. Do you come back home often?”

  “About once a month, but tonight is my friend Willow’s engagement party. You should come meet everyone.”

  His thought skidded as Willow connected dots to Bridgette in his mind. Aurelia pointed to a table in the back, where Bridgette sat with her hand on a guy’s shoulder, talking to someone farther down the table. What were the frigging chances he’d end up at the same place as Bridgette and her date?

  “That’s okay.” I’ve had enough torture for one day. “I think I’ll pass.”

  “Oh, come on.” She grabbed his arm and pulled, like a gnat trying to drag an elephant.

  The song changed, and all the girls around the table pushed to their feet, bringing Bridgette into full view. Christ, she was beautiful, wearing some sort of barely there black silk blouse with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. Her legs looked a mile long in a short white skirt and a pair of strappy black heels. Aurelia was talking, but Bodhi had tunnel vision, and everything other than Bridgette dragging the tall, dark-haired guy to the dance floor was white noise. Bridgette wrapped her arms around the dude’s neck, smiling up at him with adoring eyes, and Bodhi’s pulse spiked.

  He became aware of his feet moving and forced himself to break his stare as Aurelia tugged him toward the dance floor.

  “Aurelia, I’m really not looking for—”

  She set her hands on his shoulders. “Relax. I’m not trying to pick you up. I just want to dance. Everyone has someone to dance with except me.”

  “There are plenty of other guys in here who would probably kill to dance with you.”

  “Yup. You got that right,” she said with a cheeky smile. “But I’m hot off the heels of a stormy relationship and not looking to get involved with anyone. I’m just here for the party anyway. I haven’t moved back. But one day soon I’m coming back for good and combining my grandmother’s old bookstore with Willow’s bakery.”

  “Sorry about the relationship, but that sounds like a great idea,” he said, trying to focus on her and not Bridgette and her date, who were dancing closer to them by the second.

  “I think it will be. We’re making plans. Thanks for dancing with me.”

  “So, I’m your safe bet?” he teased. “Dance with me and guys leave you alone?”

  He stole another glance at Bridgette, who seemed oblivious to his presence. If only he could be of hers. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, wondering what that guy had that he didn’t. A career that doesn’t include possible death every time he reports to work.

  “Pretty much,” Aurelia said. “You’re like the Incredible Hulk with all these muscles. Nobody will dare hit on me now.”

  “Glad to be of service.”

  Bridgette laughed, and he wanted to know what the guy had said to earn the sweet sound.

  “Why are you so tense?” Aurelia followed his gaze over her shoulder. “Ah. Bridgette. She has that effect on guys. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

  “Sorry.” He forced his attention back to Aurelia. “I didn’t mean to stare. That was rude.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s not like I’m your date. Besides, how can you resist?” She glanced over her shoulder again. “Hey, Bridge.”

  Aw, hell.

  Bridgette turned with a wide smile, which instantly faded. Her brows knitted, her eyes darting curiously—jealously?—between Bodhi and Aurelia.

  Bodhi tried to refrain from being a dick, but “Nice to see you with clothes on” came out anyway. He’d probably get struck by lightning for saying it, but he wasn’t above pushing a few buttons of the woman he knew wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  “Wait, you know each other?” Aurelia asked.

  Bridgette’s cheeks flamed. “Yeah, this is him. The neighbor I told you about.” Her eyes narrowed seductively as she said, “I think I prefer you in the towel. Are you following me?”

  “This is the neighbor?” The guy she was with held out a hand. “Ben Dalton, and you are . . . ?”

  Dalton? Oh, fuck. She’d said it was just her and Louie. Maybe she was only separated, not divorced. Squaring his shoulders, he met Ben’s gaze, manning up to step down. “Bodhi Booker, and I’m not following your wife.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “WIFE?” BEN LAUGHED. “Dude, I don’t have a wife.” His eyes turned serious. “Bridgette’s my sister.”

  Bridgette couldn’t stifle her smile at the lost look on Bodhi’s face.

  “I’m sorry. I just assumed when you said Dalton . . .”

  Ben glared at him. “Should we talk about you two seeing each other in various stages of undress?”

  “No, we should not,” Bridgette snapped, wondering if Bodhi knew Aurelia or if he’d just picked her up. Aurelia Stark had been raised by her grandparents, who had owned the only bookstore in Sweetwater for more than forty years. She’d gone to school with Willow and had moved away after college.

  “Come on, Benny.” Aurelia dragged him away.

  Bodhi’s gaze bored into Bridgette as wordless seconds ticked by like a hundred fuses nearing explosion. His arm swept around her, bringing her against his magnificently hard frame. One large, strong hand splayed across her lower back, and the other threaded into her hair, like he owned her. And oh, how she wanted to be owned by him. Just for a night. A very steamy, sexy night that she could relive a trillion times over. It was such a bad idea, lusting over her neighbor. She was almost glad that somewhere in the back of her lust-addled brain she remembered he had been dancing with Aurelia, and jealousy gripped her.

  “Did I mess up your nightly hookup?” She felt his entire body flex against her.

  He remained silent for a long moment, pressed so close not even air could fit between them.

  “I don’t hook up,” he said in a low, rough voice.

  “Aurelia . . . ?”

  The muscles in his jaw jumped. “She’s a friend from New York City, where I live. She dragged me to the dance floor while I was busy watching you.”

  He guided her hands around his neck as the weight of his confession sank in. Feeling his warm skin beneath her fingers for the first time sent adrenaline rushing through her. The back of his neck was smooth save for a few thin, bumpy lines. Scars. He made a very male sound of appreciation, a cross between a groan and a grunt, and it was a surprisingly huge turn-on. The two drinks she’d had lessened her inhibitions, and she was glad for the high. She told herself she deserved it as she touched the back of his neck again, hoping to earn another wanton sound.

  The song “River” by Bishop Briggs came on, and Bodhi picked up the erotic beat seamlessly. She closed her eyes, giving herself over to the music, reveling in the feel of his hard heat against her belly. She matched the pulse of his hips, enjoying the graze of his powerful chest and his ragged inhalations. She’d kept this sensual part of herself suppressed for so long, it was freeing to get lost in the music, lost in him. His body moved with fluidity and virility, reminding her of a powerful boa constrictor seducing its prey. Oh, yeah, baby, wrap around me and squeeze me tight.

  He pressed his scruffy jaw to her cheek. It had been so long since she’d felt the scratch of a man’s whiskers, the hard press of his chest, her whole body lit up from the inside out.

  “You were right,” he said beside her ear. “We definitely have a problem.”

  Oh Lord. She hadn’t been this turned on since Jerry. She should say something, anything, but her mind was too swept up in him to speak.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said heatedly.

  His warm breath slid over her skin, sinking i
nto her pores and taking his confession with it.

  “You’re not mine, but seeing you with another guy . . .”

  She shuddered at the intense way he said mine.

  His lips grazed along her cheek, and she held her breath, anticipation building inside her. When his lips brushed lightly over hers, her whole body rose, trying to capture the kiss, but he drew back, a full-on battle raging in his eyes.

  “We should talk,” he said firmly.

  Man, she had it bad. She would have ended that sentence with kiss.

  “Your sister’s party . . . ?” He searched her eyes with a serious expression.

  “Over,” she said quickly. “We’ve been here for hours. Most everyone has already left.”

  The edges of his mouth tipped up, softening the inherent command in his granitelike features.

  “I just need to say goodbye,” she added.

  For a beat, neither of them moved. Was he already mourning the impending distance between them, as she was? She slid her hand down his arm, slowing to enjoy the feel of each muscle as it reacted to her touch. She’d been dreaming of touching him since the first night they’d met, and he was even more magnificent than she’d imagined.

  She wrapped her hand around his long fingers, and his eyes heated, never wavering from hers. She’d never met a man so intense. Her nerves were on fire as she led him toward the table where some of her family members were talking. Awareness of the significance of her decision, of the signals she was sending, slammed into her, and she slowed to catch her breath. Was she ready for this?

  He put a finger beneath her chin and lifted, as he’d done at his front door, gazing thoughtfully down at her. “Would you rather I leave?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m just . . . I’m good.” And she was. She’d needed that pause to acknowledge and accept what she was feeling. She was nervous, but she wanted this. She wanted him. Her smile came genuinely, and earned her one in return. “Come on.”

  She became more nervous as they approached the table. Willow was practically sitting in Zane’s lap as they mooned over each other. Piper and Talia were scoping out some guy across the room, and Ben was in a heated discussion with Aurelia. She shouldn’t be nervous. This was her normal.