by Shayla Black
“Oh my God.” Her eyes closed, head tilted back, and orgasmic, gooey bliss overtook her mouth. She moaned as she finished the bite. “Keaton, you have to—”
“—taste this” evaporated as soon as she focused on his face. He was still staring at her, but with a very different look. His that’s-kinda-sexy interest had turned into something she could only label as animalistic white-hot lust. But it wasn’t a look she’d ever had leveled on her before. In fact, she’d never seen such an intense display of desire on a man’s face—in movies, on television, hell, not even in a porn video.
His mouth hung open a little, the tip of his tongue resting at the corner of his mouth, his eyes blazing with a savagely starved look of hunger. Brooke felt the heat of it all the way to the soles of her feet, and her body mirrored the craving.
When it came time to swallow her bite of pie, Brooke struggled against an extremely tight throat. Then cleared it before she tried to speak. “It’s amazing. You should try it before it melts again.”
“I really should,” he agreed emphatically in a soft rumble.
Brooke got a very clear impression he wasn’t talking about the pie. He was throwing off crystal clear, hard-core messages. Messages Brooke didn’t quite trust, because she’d never had them directed at her before. Especially not by a man like Keaton. And definitely not when, from what she understood, Keaton went for a very different kind of woman than Brooke had ever been or would ever be. She wasn’t even sure how to address the messages, let alone what to do with them, and wondered how long she’d have to figure it out. Because she really didn’t want to pass up this chance with him again.
She put her hand on his thigh and, with her stomach knotting, asked, “Keaton, how long are you in town?”
His eyes came into sharp focus. Thoughts churned. Then he looked down at their joined hands with a look on his face that conveyed the same feeling she’d had when he’d asked her about her job.
His voice was soft when he said, “We wrapped earlier today.”
Which meant he’d be on the next plane out of town. Her heart deflated and dropped like a rock. Just her damn luck. But she forced a laugh. “Man, the universe does not want us spending time together, does it?”
He cut off another bite of pie and picked up some ice cream with the tines of the fork, then brought it to her lips again. But this time, he met her eyes. “Fuck the universe. We have all night, right?”
He popped the bite into her mouth and went back for another forkful for himself, asking, “Tell me all about life in Florida. How’s your sister doing?”
Brooke kept the talk about Tammy’s recovery from her husband’s tragic death on an oil rig in the Persian Gulf short. Brooke didn’t want to drag the conversation down, so she focused on the great strides her sister had made. And when she could, she steered the topics back to mainstream interests, which for her and Keaton was easy. They settled into a comfortable conversation that meandered like a stream, with no direction.
They talked about Keaton’s many travels and his work. The people he met and the jobs he’d done. About the friends they had in common, the Renegades stunt company, its expansion and the jobs coming their way.
The pie was long gone by the time the topic came back around to how Brooke was adjusting to living in one place after traveling around the country with Ellie for so many years.
“I thought I’d go stir-crazy, you know?” she said. “But I love it. Not Florida as much as just finding roots. It probably seems weird, but just knowing the people you pass on the street, knowing the names of the waitresses who serve you breakfast, the clerks at the grocery store, the postman, the crossing guard, Justin’s teachers, it’s…comforting. Grounding. It’s…hard to describe. But it feels good.”
“Doesn’t sound weird at all,” he said. “I’m looking forward to going home for the same reason. I mean, not about the crossing guard or the teachers…”
She laughed, but the realization that he was leaving in the morning after she’d just reconnected with him sucked so hard, it created a physical pain beneath her ribs. One she tried to ignore, because there was nothing she could do about it, and she didn’t want it to ruin this small window of time they did have.
“And your nephew?” Keaton asked. “How old is he now?”
Just the mention of Justin made Brooke grin. “Eight. He’s so awesome.”
Keaton looked concerned. “Hard time to lose his dad.”
“It was. But he’s adjusted well. Marc died his sixth year overseas, so he really spent most of Justin’s life away. I don’t mean to say that makes it easier to have your dad suddenly taken. Tammy said they Skyped almost every night, and Marc helped him with homework and read to him. But somehow that distance created a gap that allowed Justin to disconnect.”
“And your sister? You sort of skated over all that in the beginning.”
“Yeah, well, I feel a ticking clock on my time with you. I was trying to keep the conversation light.”
“You’re still always thinking of other people first. I’m sure that makes you an awesome assistant.”
Brooke grinned and tipped her head both ways. “My current boss would probably disagree. But then she disagrees for the sake of disagreement, so…” She shrugged. “Honestly, Tammy’s doing well, considering she’s raising her son on her own with next to nothing. In fact, she just started her second year of nursing school. I’m really happy for her. She’s got a rock-solid future ahead. I’ve just got to see them both through this last stretch.”
“Damn impressive.”
“Very.” Brooke lifted her brows and shook her head. “The sheer number of hours she studies boggles my mind. She has classes on top of that, and her internship. It would overwhelm me.”
His smile was soft. “I meant you.”
Brooke laughed and was about to tell him that Tammy did all the work, but Lashonda stopped by the table.
“All right, lovebirds,” she said, “I’d love to watch the stars twinkle in your eyes all night, but I’m sure you two have somewhere better to be locked up all night than here.”
Brooke tapped the face of her phone and read the time: 12:05 a.m. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” she said, her voice smooth and sweet. “You two made my night. Haven’t seen a couple as happy as you two in so long, I’m gonna be floating on air for a week. Now go on an’ take all that lovin’ home.”
Embarrassment slid through Brooke’s skin and heated her cheeks, but Lashonda’s comment made Brooke realize that the instant heat between her and Keaton upon meeting again had cooled back down to a comfortable simmer while they’d been talking.
Keaton stood and took out his wallet. Brooke slid from the booth and put a hand over his as he placed three twenties on the table. “Keaton, no. Let me—”
“Sweetheart,” Lashonda said, tapping her arm. “This is Texas. Let the boy pay.”
She didn’t have much of a choice unless she wanted to stand there and argue, which was the very opposite of how she wanted to spend any of her time with Keaton.
As they left the restaurant, Keaton swung his arm across her shoulders, and they started toward the sidewalk. Brooke thought ahead and realized if she wanted more than an awkward good-bye in front of her hotel, she was going to have to brush some of the cobwebs off those seduction skills she hadn’t used since well before she’d moved to Florida.
Three
Keaton held back a moan of pleasure as Brooke leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist, but he closed his eyes, squeezed her shoulders, and pressed his face to the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo.
Then asked, “Which way? Where are you staying?”
“Right. Four Seasons.”
He let one of those “aren’t you fancy?” sounds roll from his throat as he turned that direction down the sidewalk and strolled past the darkened commercial businesses toward the river. “Certainly coming up in the w
orld, Miss Dempsey.”
“If I could work for someone like Ellie again, I’d take a Motel 6 in a heartbeat.”
He’d noticed that she’d shied away from any kind of negative conversation tonight. And he still couldn’t believe they’d sat there and talked for three hours. Three freaking hours. He didn’t talk to anyone for three hours. Not even his Renegade buddies. Not even about their jobs. Which were like a religion to them. Yet the time with Brooke had flown by. Just as if the year since they’d seen each other had never happened.
Keaton couldn’t remember the last night he’d enjoyed as much as this one. If they only had more time. Or lived closer. Or…shit. He didn’t know. So he stuck with safe subjects.
“Your boss is that bad, huh?” he asked.
She didn’t answer right away, and when Keaton looked down at her, she had her face twisted up in a way that made him laugh.
“Shut up.” She laughed. “I’m trying to think of something good to say.”
“Stop trying and just say the first thing that comes to your mind.”
Brooke groaned and said, “She’s a crazy fucking bitch.”
Humor exploded at the center of his chest, and Keaton burst out laughing. He laughed so hard, he stopped walking and pressed his free hand to his thigh to stay upright. He had the perfect image of the woman Brooke worked for in his mind. And he knew exactly why Brooke was so miserable. It wasn’t funny. It was just so damned ironic.
“What did I say?” she wanted to know, half laughing at him as he caught his breath.
He shook his head and straightened. “Oh, this industry. I think it exposes us to more than our fair share of the crazies.”
“Amen.”
They’d reached the end of the street, where the pavement gave way to a trail leading along the river. One that also connected their hotels. He took her hand and started down the stairs.
“Hmmm, the river trail at night.” Her hand tightened in his. “I wouldn’t do this with anyone but you.”
That made a few of his male feathers fluff. “Our hotels are only a quarter mile apart. With all the exterior lights between the two, the path is lit up pretty well.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Radisson.” He pointed down the trail on the right. “Can’t really see it, but it’s just right there. I’ve been running the trail in the morning.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and even though the path was well lit, she released his hand and slid both arms around his waist, cuddling into his side. “I’d still feel better closer to you.”
Damn, she felt so good. All soft and warm and curvy. She smelled like flowers and vanilla and honey. And then she tilted her chin up and the smile she gave him was so beautiful, it made Keaton think about things he’d never thought about—like more of these quiet walks along the river. Made him want things he’d never wanted—like the same woman to take those walks with every day.
“Baby,” he said, “you definitely feel better closer to me.”
She laughed and stroked one hand over his belly and up his chest. The move was innocuous in his world of casual sex with highly sexed women. But right now, with Brooke, the touch opened a floodgate of fire through his body. And even though he kept telling himself he wanted something different, even when his soul ached for more connection and more meaning, his body pushed lusty thoughts into his head.
After years of sex with uninhibited, wild, inventive, kinky, risqué women, Keaton’s mind twisted toward adventurous sexcapades with Brooke, right here, right now—out in the open, up against a tree, at the risk of having anyone walk by. Sitting her on the dock railing, lifting that pretty skirt and burying his face in her pussy until her screams broke the night’s silence. Letting her ride him on a bench along the path—
“Keaton?”
“Hmm?” He jerked himself out of the fantasies. “Sorry, what?”
She was standing in front of him, her body pressed against his in the sultry night. It was no wonder his mind had drifted that direction. She felt delicious against him. Like he-wanted-his-mouth-all-over-her delicious.
“Where were you?” she asked, her voice soft, laced with desire.
Or was that his imagination? He couldn’t tell anymore. “Oh, you know. The end of filming, I’m a little brain dead at this point…”
“Are you? Because tonight sort of reminds me of our last night together in California.” She grinned. “If, you know, you take away the humidity and the bugs…”
Keaton laughed.
Her hands trailed up his arms as she stretched up his body and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Keaton’s arms automatically circled her, pulling her close, and he groaned at the feel of her curves pressing against him.
“Mmm, baby.” Fire spread between his legs, lit up his spine. He dropped his face to her shoulder. “You’re going to blow my circuits.”
Her fingers combed into his hair. The scrape of her nails on his scalp made his eyes roll back in his head.
“Do you remember?” she asked at his ear. “That night?”
“Can’t forget.”
“Is that where you were a minute ago?”
He shook his head.
“Then where were you?”
He shook his head.
“If you weren’t there,” she said, “where’d this come from?”
She rocked her hips against his erection, and the direct pressure pushed lust through his system. The kind of ecstasy that made him needy and hungry and a little crazy.
He growled and fisted his hands in her dress.
“Where?” she whispered at his ear. “Tell me.”
“Right here, thinking dirty thoughts about you.” He lifted his head, gripped her waist, and stepped back. “Which is why you need to go up to your room now.”
Keaton looked at the winding stone staircase that led to a patio and an entrance into the Four Seasons. He knew because he sprinted these stairs in the morning.
“Those will take you to the lobby.” He released her waist and fisted his hands to keep the hunger in the pit of his stomach from driving him to grab her back.
She stared at him as if he’d spoken a foreign language for a moment, then extended her hand. “Come with me.”
The offer was so…sweet. It encompassed everything Brooke was—real and loving and warm and caring and honest. It encompassed everything Keaton thought he wanted.
“I…” He raked a hand through his hair, struggling against his habit to give in to desire whenever it suited him. “I can’t. You’re too…”
Her hand dropped, and a little frown creased her brow. “Too…?”
“Too sweet. Too good. Too important to me. Just too.”
She exhaled, closed the distance again, and pressed her body against his.
Keaton closed his eyes on a moan.
“Some men say,” she told him, her voice a sultry hum, “that there’s nothing like a good girl with a dirty mind. Where you’re concerned, my mind is good and dirty.”
Fire flared through his groin, and he forced his eyes open.
She was looking up at him with a gaze like the sparkling Caribbean rimmed in thick black lashes. Eyes he wanted to see in every stage of pleasure. He wanted to watch her eyes light with fire as he teased her with the promise of wicked excitement. Soak in the need drenching her expression as he pushed her past her comfort zone until she begged for him. Lose himself in the wild passion unleashed inside her when he drove her to ecstasy. And finally, the shock and awe of bliss as she recovered.
But this was Brooke, not a casual hookup. If their situations were different…
But they weren’t.
“Stop fighting yourself,” she said. “I can see your thoughts battling behind your eyes. If you aren’t interested, just say you aren’t.”
“I am,” he said immediately, vehemently. “I’ve wanted you since I met you in Vegas. I wanted you in California. I want you now. But I’m backing off for the same reasons I did then. Becaus
e I’m me, and my life is this, and you’re you, and your life is…”
He heaved a sigh, disgusted that he could talk endlessly and flawlessly about shit that didn’t matter, but now, when he needed someone he cared about to understand, his words got all tangled.
“Okay, stop,” she told him, her voice compassionate. Then she pressed her cheek to his chest, tightened her arms, and said, “Just stop talking and hold me.”
He closed his arms around her and laid his head on hers, his gut aching with regret. “I’m sorry—”
“Shush.” She cut him off. “Now count to twenty slowly.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
She had to be the sweetest drill sergeant ever. So he did it. But somewhere around nine, her hands found their way under his tee, and her nails scored gentle patterns on his back, draining the stress from his body. And he lost count.
After another moment, she pulled back to look up at him. “Let me put something into perspective for you. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a year. After tonight, I won’t see you again for a long time. Neither of us knows how long. It could be another year. It could be longer. So the idea of not being together now to keep a vital friendship intact isn’t very realistic.”
He frowned, mulling that over.
“I think the reason you’re twisted over coming upstairs with me is because you’re a really good person and you don’t want to hurt me. But I’m a big girl, Keaton, and I’ve been navigating my way through hookups for years. I may be sweet, but I’m very open to being whatever you want or need for the night.”
Holy shit. Keaton’s mind strayed deeper into those sexual thoughts again—undressing her, getting his hands on her bare flesh, pushing his hips between her thighs, having her completely and totally wrapped around him…
His resistance slipped a notch.
He lifted one hand and rubbed his face, hoping to pull himself from this haze. “I can’t think.”
