Only for You (Sugar Lake Book 2)

by Melissa Foster

  Except normal didn’t usually include holding hands with a man she wanted to strip naked and devour. Oh boy . . .

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the naked neighbor.” Mischief danced in Piper’s eyes as she pushed to her feet and strutted around the table in her skinny jeans and slinky little blouse. She set her hands on her hips, running an assessing eye over Bodhi.

  His jaw clenched.

  “Bodhi, this is my sister Piper. She works in construction and is around guys all day, which means she has absolutely no filter. Please take her with a grain of salt.”

  He flashed a cocky grin. “For the record, I had a towel on.”

  “For the record,” Piper said, “she wished you didn’t.”

  “Piper!” Talia called across the table. She sounded, and looked, like the astute professor she was, with her long dark hair secured at the base of her neck and wearing a pretty white blouse and a black pencil skirt.

  Bodhi’s expression turned serious again. “I’m pretty sure Louie wouldn’t have appreciated that.”

  She swallowed hard. Did he know that watching out for her son was better than foreplay? “You knew Louie was outside?”

  “As I said”—Bodhi leaned closer and lowered his voice—“I notice everything.”

  Can you tell my nerves are on fire, too?

  “Being attuned to your surroundings is an admirable quality,” Talia said. “I’m Talia, by the way. Also one of Bridgette’s sisters.”

  Bodhi nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

  Zane stood and reached over the table to shake Bodhi’s hand. “Willow and I were leaving the bakery the night you and Bridgette met. I’m Zane Walker, Willow’s fiancé.” Zane had grown up in Sweetwater. He was Ben’s best friend, and had always been close with their family. Before Willow had gone away to college, she’d secretly asked Zane to help her lose her virginity. Ten years later, Zane had needed to clean up his bad-boy reputation, and he’d asked Willow to be his fake fiancée. It hadn’t taken long for their love to rekindle, ten times stronger than it had been years earlier. They were proof that true love could appear out of nowhere and overcome anything.

  “Walker.” Bodhi’s brows drew into a serious slant. “You’re an actor?”

  “Was,” Zane answered. Looking at Willow adoringly, he said, “Screenplay writer now.” He turned his attention to Bodhi. “Bridgette said you were checking Willow out the other day. I’m cool with that. Just don’t get handsy with my woman or I’ll have to have you killed.”

  Willow laughed. “He’s kidding about the killing part.”

  “And I was kidding about the checking-out part,” Bridgette insisted. “Gosh, you guys. Way to scare him off.”

  “Aren’t you glad you met me, Bodhi? Now you have a famous friend and the Dalton clan to drive you bonkers.” Aurelia rose to her feet and tugged at Ben’s shirt. “Get your butt up and drive me home, Benny boy. You guys wore me out.”

  “You and Ben?” Bridgette asked skeptically. “What have I missed?”

  Aurelia rolled her eyes. “Please. He’s my chauffeur. I walked here, but I’m too tired to walk home.”

  Piper tapped Bodhi’s shoulder, and he leaned in close to hear something Bridgette couldn’t. She wondered what type of hell Piper was giving him now.

  Ben hugged Willow. “Congratulations, sis.” He nodded at Zane. “Congrats, bro.”

  That sparked the end of their gathering, as everyone got ready to leave. Bodhi stepped closer to Bridgette, placing a hand possessively on her lower back. Heat blazed through the thin material of her blouse, making her want to be in his arms again. Now.

  “Bridge? You okay? Need a ride?” Ben asked.

  She glanced at Bodhi, who looked like he was just as ready to be alone with her as she was with him. “I think I’m good, thanks.”

  Ben pulled Bridgette’s phone from his pocket and handed it to her. She’d forgotten he had it.

  “Piper? Need a ride?” Ben asked.

  Piper pointed to the bar, where Harley was watching her like a hawk. “I think I’m going to hang around and harass Harley.”

  After a round of goodbyes that took far too long, Bridgette and Bodhi were finally alone—in a bar full of people.

  “Would you like me to hold your phone?” Bodhi’s gaze trailed over her body. “Do you have house keys?”

  “I have a key hidden at home so I don’t have to carry one.” She slipped the phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “Thank you.”

  He leaned in close. “I need to give you a lesson in safety for the single woman.”

  “Is it a hands-on lesson?”

  His eyes went volcanic. “What time do you need to be back for Louie?”

  Chalk another one up for best foreplay ever. How many men would think of Louie first and not the inferno raging between them? “He’s spending the night at a friend’s house.”

  He hauled her onto the dance floor, and there was no calming the dizzying currents racing through her.

  BODHI WAS STUCK somewhere between paradise and hell. Meeting Bridgette’s family and friends had given him enough time to think things through, but he didn’t like the answer he’d come up with. He knew he shouldn’t be leading her on, or wondering if she kissed like a tigress or a kitten, or what she had on underneath that slinky little outfit. But every glance, every brush of her warm, soft skin, made him want more, and for the first time in his life, he wanted to do the wrong thing and risk getting burned.

  Gone was the shy woman he’d seen earlier. Holding his gaze with a glimmer of fierce possession, Bridgette mouthed angsty lyrics about paradise and war zones, dancing like rhythm ran through her veins. The tempo climbed fast and frantic, exploding into a storm of vibrations. Bridgette tossed her head back, her long hair sweeping over her shoulders, her breasts brushing against Bodhi’s chest. The beat faded to a dull hum that wound around them, drawing them closer. His hands moved along the dip of her waist, and hers came to rest on his chest. When she set her beautiful green eyes on him, the rest of the world spun away, and he lowered his mouth toward hers.

  The second before their lips touched, he tangled his hand in her hair, holding their kiss at bay. “Bridgette . . . I’m not . . . I can’t . . .” He had no words. How could he tell her he wasn’t looking for a relationship when he wanted her this badly?

  “Unless you’re married, just kiss me.”

  He caught sight of Piper in his peripheral vision, awakening his brain and reminding him that despite feeling like they were the only two people who existed in the crowded bar, they were far from alone. Fuck. With an arm around her waist, he headed for the door.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he hurried outside and around the side of the building.

  “I’m not married.”

  “Then why . . . ?”

  He drew her against him, and holy fuck did she feel good. “Because I don’t want you to be the talk of the town tomorrow.”

  “Oh . . .” Her lips curved up.

  He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and brushed his lips over hers, trying to slow himself down long enough to do the right thing. “Bridgette?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I need my mouth on you.”

  “Yes,” came out like a plea.

  He tightened his hold on her, hoping it might keep her from blowing him off when he said what he had to. She was trembling, and for the second time that night he wished he could be an asshole and not reveal his truth. But he wasn’t an asshole, and Bridgette deserved honesty. “As badly as I want you, you’ve got a son. You need someone who will be around. I’m only here for a couple weeks, and my job . . . I never know when I’ll be around. I can’t make promises for more than tonight.”

  Her arms circled his neck, and those delicate fingers brushed over his skin, sending shocks of heat straight to his core. “Bodhi?”

  “Hm?”

  “I hear you, and I have a lot of questions, but can you please just kiss me before I lose my frigging mi—”
>
  Her words were smothered by the hard press of his lips, and sweet baby Jesus, he devoured her succulent mouth, crushing her to him. Her body was warm and soft. She made a sexy sound of surrender, melting against him and somehow kissing him harder at the same time. He wanted to savor this kiss, to memorize the feel of her. His hands moved along the dip at the base of her spine, and she arched forward, pressing deliciously against him. Lust pooled deep within him, bubbling up with every swipe of their tongues. She was torture and pleasure, sweet and sinful, and he never wanted to let her go. He couldn’t remember ever kissing a woman like this, and when she gripped the base of his skull and held on tight, he deepened the kiss with such force she stumbled backward and hit the building.

  Fear of hurting her rose above all else, and he tore his mouth away. “Are you okay?”

  Her cheeks were flushed, her swollen lips curved up in the sexiest smile he’d ever seen. “God, yes.”

  She pulled him into another kiss, and it took all his self-control not to lift her into his arms and wind those gorgeous legs around his waist. He angled her head, plundering and sweeping his tongue over every crevice, like he wanted to do to the rest of her body. His hands moved down her bare thighs, then up, lingering at the edge of her skirt.

  “Christ, Bridge,” he said between kisses. “You’re too sexy.”

  She smiled against his lips, and he took her in a demanding kiss, grinding his rock-hard cock against her. She moaned into his mouth, and that sexy plea did him in. He clutched her ass, holding her tighter, letting her feel every inch of what she was doing to him.

  “Bodhi,” she said in one long breath.

  “Fuck,” came out before he could stop it, and then all hell broke loose with his verbal control. “I knew one kiss would never be enough. I want to strip you naked, drop to my knees, and pleasure you until you feel me licking you in your sleep.”

  “Ohmygod,” rushed from her lungs. She clung to his chest, her fingers digging into his skin through his shirt. “You don’t say much, but boy, you do know when to use your words.”

  He kissed her again, cringing for his crudeness. “I’m sorry. It’s been a really long time since I’ve done anything like this.”

  “I’m sure I have you beat.”

  His lips came down softly on her cheek and traced the line of her jaw. “I’ve been dying to do this.”

  He sealed his mouth over the base of her neck, pressing his tongue against that frantic pulse that had taunted him since he’d first set eyes on her.

  She whimpered, holding his head in place. “Don’t stop. Oh God.” She bowed off the wall. “It’s been so long. That feels good.”

  He sucked and licked and kissed and tasted, until she was writhing, moaning, digging her fingers into his skull. He needed more, and he wasn’t about to take it here where anyone could see her.

  He reluctantly tore his mouth away, both of them breathless.

  Framing her face with his hands, he kissed her over and over again, unable to tear himself away completely. “What do you say we get out of here?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  BRIDGETTE’S THOUGHTS RACED every second of the short drive home. She tried to think rationally and slow herself down. But her body was acting like it was the Fourth of July, and every rational thought was shot down by how badly she wanted Bodhi. The fact that he was her neighbor should at least give her pause, for Louie’s sake if nothing else. But as she watched him stalk around the truck, impossibly handsome and powerful, his taste lingering in her mouth, neighbor didn’t hold the significance it probably should. Her body clearly thought she was not only ready to get back in the game, but it was anxious to play.

  He opened her door and with one swift move turned her toward him, planting his hands on either side of the doorframe, his face a mask of serious restraint. “I meant what I said,” he warned. “If you’re looking for more than tonight, we end here.”

  Why was his bluntness such a turn-on? “I’m not looking for anything. This—you—are unexpected.”

  He glanced at her house, then his, and found her eyes again with genuine tenderness that would have knocked her legs out from under her had she not been sitting down.

  “Bridge . . .”

  She reached up and touched his cheeks, riveted by his compassion. “Unexpected doesn’t mean bad idea.”

  “I need to know we’re both going into this with our eyes open. No dreams of finding a happily ever after. You need to be sure, because I don’t want to hurt you or Louie.”

  She was soaking up every dose of compassion he unknowingly doled out. Louie was her world, and Bodhi inherently knew that in ways other guys who had asked her out hadn’t. They’d seen Louie as a roadblock, someone to work around. He saw Louie as the person who mattered most. Although Bodhi wasn’t asking her out. He was asking about something far more important, something of more value than just her time. Do I want to give myself over to you for only one night?

  Her answer didn’t take any thought. “I’m nervous, but I’m as sure as I have ever been.”

  His arm circled around her waist, tugging her forward, and he captured her mouth with the force of a tsunami. She couldn’t even say she’d forgotten how great kissing could be, because kissing Bodhi was nothing like kissing any other man. It was a full-body experience, and she felt it from her spinning mind to the very tips of her toes. He drew back, their lips parting for only a second before he returned for more, time and time again.

  “Can’t do this here,” he said fervently, and lifted her out of the truck. His arm locked around her waist and then fell away. “Neighbors.”

  What a thrill it was to be with a man who thought of her before himself. She might not have dated since losing Jerry, but she kept up on the dating scene with her sisters, and she knew there were a lot of jerks out there. But she missed his touch, so she reminded him, “Did you not notice that the closest neighbor is about two acres down the road from your house? They can’t see us.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have reminded me. It opens way too many doors,” he said with more than a hint of wickedness. He unlocked the front door, and Dahlia practically leapt into his arms.

  “Hi, baby.” He loved her up, then motioned with his hand, and Dahlia sank to all fours, panting at Bridgette.

  Bridgette petted her. “You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you? Except when you’re busy knocking people’s groceries out of their hands.”

  Dahlia barked, and Bodhi groaned.

  “I was only teasing,” she assured him. “I love dogs, but I’m not home enough to take care of one.”

  “I know what that’s like.” He patted his thigh and headed through the living room. Dahlia trotted beside him and happily went out the back door.

  Bridgette took in the mass of tarps, paint cans, brushes, ladders, and other tools on the floor. A comfortable-looking couch sat between two end tables, a few paperbacks were stacked on one, and a hammer lay on the other. Across the room were a dog bed, a stepladder, and more paint cans.

  “Excuse the mess,” Bodhi said, closing the distance between them.

  “Toys in my living room, tarps in yours. We all have our messes.”

  “I’m freshening the place up for my mother, and wasn’t expecting company.”

  He settled his hands on her hips, and her pulse quickened. “Your mother?”

  “Yes. I bought the house for her to retire in. She sold her flower shop and is closing on her condo and moving here in November. Until then it’ll be a place for her to get away from the rat race of New York City. I’m only here for two weeks, fixing it up for her. Then I’ll go back to the city.”

  Trying to process what he’d said while standing a kiss away from him was like trying to do algebra in her head. Or at all. “That’s why you knew about peace lilies.”

  “I think I was born with two green thumbs. I spent more hours working at her shop than I spent at home all through high school.” He cradled her face in his hands with a dark look in his eyes. “Would
you like to talk about my mother?”

  She shook her head and went up on her toes as he captured her mouth in a smoldering kiss. How would she ever get enough of these kisses? She wanted to disappear into them, to be devoured until morning. He fisted his hand in her hair, sending a shock of heat between her legs. She clung to his shoulders, wanting—needing—to be closer, to feel his weight on her.

  “God, your mouth,” he said against her lips.

  God, your voice! His roughness rumbled through her chest. He lifted her into his arms, guiding her legs around his thick waist, never breaking their kiss. Dahlia barked at the back door. Bridgette smiled. Bodhi sighed.

  “It’s okay.” She kissed one corner of his mouth. “Let her in.” She kissed the other side. “She’s your baby. She depends on you.”

  He carried her to the back door. “You’re some kind of saint.”

  “You can put me down.”

  His eyes narrowed with an authoritative air that left no room for negotiation. Good. She was totally into this Neanderthal, grunting hunk of a man.

  Bodhi pulled the door open and gestured to Dahlia. The pup whimpered and sank down to her butt, looking up at him with sad eyes.

  “She’s not used to sharing me.”

  The pit of Bridgette’s stomach knotted as she remembered the girl in the Jeep. What was she doing? She didn’t really know anything about Bodhi. How could she put herself on the line like this? She knew better, but she wanted him. Desperately.

  “Except with the blonde in the Jeep,” she said softly, trying to wiggle free.

  He tightened his hold on her. “Shira runs the charity I founded, Hearts for Heroes.”

  “You founded a charity?”

  He nodded and said, “Shira is my closest friend, and I would never, ever sleep with her.”

  “Oh.” She winced, feeling bad for assuming. She wanted to ask about the charity, but at the moment it seemed the less pressing of the two things he’d mentioned. “I assumed . . .”