Kiss Me if You Can (Most Eligible Bachelor Series Book 1)

by Carly Phillips

  “Where do you keep disappearing to?” Coop tapped her head.

  “Nowhere,” she promised him and herself. She pushed all thoughts of anyone or anything in her past back where they belonged.

  Coop shot her an uncertain glance before turning to place the glasses on the nightstand.

  “Before we go any further, you have protection, right?” Lexie asked. Because the one thing Lexie was meticulous about was protection. Not just because it meant she was smart and healthy, but because her traveling lifestyle didn’t leave room for any unexpected surprises. She was on the pill, but it paid to be safe all the way around.

  He answered by opening the top drawer and pulling out a box of condoms.

  A sealed box that he quickly tore open and she nearly sighed in relief. “I bought them after that night at your grandmother’s.”

  He didn’t keep them on hand just in case. Because, as Sara had said, he wasn’t into revolving-door relationships.

  Yet despite knowing she’d be leaving eventually, he’d invited Lexie in.

  It went both ways. Coop wasn’t like anyone who’d come before. And though she knew this relationship was destined to be short-term, she wanted to give—and take—everything she could while she was with him. And she trusted that he would not only do the same but would never betray her, as her ex had.

  Scary thought, investing that kind of trust. Yet it was there.

  He put the foil wrapper beside them and turned his focus back to her. “Top or bottom?” he asked, with a wicked grin.

  She ran her finger over his cheek. “You choose.”

  “Neither,” he said in a gruff voice and pulled her against him. Lying on his side, he eased his body around hers, spoon-like, her backside pressed against his erection.

  She swallowed hard, but relaxed into him, allowing his arms and his body heat to cocoon her in a haze of growing desire.

  “You’re so damn sexy,” he whispered in her ear.

  She’d never been called that before. Never thought of herself in quite those terms, yet around Coop she felt that way. Saw herself as he did.

  “Bend your knee.”

  She did as he asked, parting her thighs, giving him complete access. He slid his hand between them and slipped his finger inside her. She was hot and wet and ready for him, and the pressure from this backward angle was intense. With his lips on her neck, his breath hot against her skin, he opened her sheath and pushed himself deep inside, expelling a harsh groan of pleasure, and holding her tight.

  It had been a while for Lexie and it hurt for an instant, but as if he sensed her discomfort, he thrust in and stopped, waiting for her to adjust.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  The pressure eased and pleasure slowly consumed her. She shifted slightly and sighed. “Oh, yes.”

  He cupped her breast in one hand, his fingertips toying with her sensitive nipples, torturing her and yet pleasuring her at the same time. Lexie felt the pull from her chest all the way to between her thighs, causing her to squeeze herself around him and seek harder, deeper pleasure.

  Coop took the hint. He grabbed on to her waist and began to move inside her, sliding in and out, pumping his hips against hers and all the while, whispering how damn good she felt in her ear.

  The position was new to her and the angle increased his penetration. Each thrust took her higher until she couldn’t stand it. She grabbed on to the headboard with one hand and held on as he moved into her over and over again, until she was whimpering with need and close to coming.

  Without warning, he pulled out and rolled her onto her back, coming over her and thrusting back inside before she could think or even breathe.

  “I need to see your face when you come,” he said between long kisses.

  God, even his words made her burn hotter.

  She wanted to see his face when he came, too, and she wanted it now. She lifted her legs, pulling him in deeper, her gaze never leaving his. He began to move, gliding his body out then in, making certain he stayed long enough to grind hard against just the right spot. He brought her closer and closer to the edge, keeping up the pace and the pressure, watching her each time he thrust deep.

  Lexie felt full to bursting and yet it wasn’t enough. “I need—”

  “What?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with heat.

  “You. Harder. Now.” She forced the embarrassing words out and a pleased, aroused smile tipped his lips.

  He paused long enough to take her hands and raise them over her head. “Hold on to the headboard.”

  She reached back and wrapped her hands around the cold metal bars. He inclined his head with a brief nod and leaned forward to kiss her once more. Then, he braced his hands on either side of her head and did as she’d asked—drove inside her faster and harder than before, not stopping to breathe, taking her higher and higher, just as she’d wanted.

  Their breath mingled, harsh sounds that only served to heighten sensation until she couldn’t think, could barely breathe and white-hot flashes sparkled in her head and pleasure consumed her entire body in a blinding, spectacular release that never seemed to end.

  “That’s it,” he said, his voice rough and sexy in her ear. “Keep coming.”

  And somehow she did, taking him right along with her.

  Chapter Eight

  Coop returned from the bathroom and collapsed on top of Lexie. She accepted his weight, enjoying the feel of his hot skin against hers, even if she could barely breathe.

  “Coop.” She tapped his shoulder, and he rolled to his side, taking her with him.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to crush you. Are you alive?” he asked, his breathing still labored.

  “Barely.” Lexie flexed her toes, feeling sore all over. “But in a good way. In an amazing way, actually.” She curled against him and, to her surprise, his body twitched in response.

  “So fast?” she asked, unable to hold back a laugh. Damn, she had some effect on him, she thought with no small amount of feminine pride.

  “I knew we’d be good together, but that was beyond.”

  Pleased, she relaxed into him and inhaled deep, taking in the musky scent of man and sex lingering in the room. Coop held her, his groin twitching against her back, but clearly, his thing and his brain weren’t on the same page because his limbs grew heavy and his breathing deepened.

  After a few minutes, she realized he’d fallen asleep.

  So he was one of those men, she mused. Sex relaxed him. Not so for her. Sex wired her. She lay staring at the ceiling and decided she needed to work off her excess energy.

  Getting up from the bed she contemplated whether she ought to leave and immediately decided against it. Coop hadn’t given her any reason to think he didn’t want her here when he woke up. She glanced over at the bed where he lay sprawled on top of the covers. His tanned skin stood out in contrast to the white sheets, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to him.

  He was so handsome, generous, sexy and caring. No, Lexie thought as she listened to the sound of his breathing, she wasn’t leaving because she wasn’t finished with him yet.

  Instead of her halter and shorts, she pulled her underwear and his T-shirt on, comfortably happy when it fell to mid-thigh. Then she headed to the other room. From his bookshelf, she pulled a copy of his novel, Street, the murder mystery he’d had published, and settled onto the couch to work. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to get an Internet connection on her machine because he had a locked modem and she’d need his password to get in. And she wasn’t about to wake him to ask for it.

  His laptop sat on the table where she’d left it, and she couldn’t imagine him minding if she worked there, considering he’d let her play around with it earlier. But a quick check told her the darn thing was still running the defrag program so she couldn’t work there.

  She glanced around and caught sight of the desktop PC in the corner. She’d noticed it the other day when she’d helped him clean his apartment. She decided he wouldn’t mind if she used i
t for a little while.

  She sat down on the chair, glad it was covered in fabric and not cool leather. A quick shift of the mouse and the large screen came into view.

  “Excellent,” she said aloud.

  But instead of the desktop screen, Lexie came face-to-face with a Word document. Notes on the Ring, the top line of the page read.

  Lexie bit down on the inside of her cheek and continued reading. The page detailed a famous jewelry designer, Trifari, known for the insignia inside the shank of its rings. She scanned farther down and noticed a reference to a robbery known as the Lancaster jewel heist. Probably an inside job, accomplished during a dinner party given the same evening as the theft. Probable suspects originally included anyone in the home that night, but the entire staff had been questioned by the police, their whereabouts accounted for, and all had been exonerated.

  The police suspected a ring of highly skilled thieves who posed as staff for the evening, including the chauffeur. All three had disappeared without a trace. Coincidence, Coop had written. Or could the chauffeur be Lexie’s grandfather?

  And then another question jumped out at her from the bottom of the page. True crime or fiction story—which will hit bigger?

  Betrayal coursed through her.

  Well, to hell with not waking him. Lexie stormed into the bedroom, turned on the bedside lamp, picked up a pillow and tossed it at Coop.

  “What the—?” He bolted upright in bed. “What’s wrong?”

  Lexie perched her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You are if you think you can use my grandparents as fodder for your career or a stepping-stone to bestseller status!” She swallowed over the tears that always formed when she was blinding mad.

  She wouldn’t let herself be distracted by his hard body or sexy, sleepy good looks or by the fact that they’d just shared incredible sex. And to think she’d told herself she could trust the man.

  “Well? Talk to me,” Lexie demanded.

  Coop forced his mind to focus on what she was saying. One minute he’d been fast asleep and the next she’d slammed him with a pillow and begun hurling accusations and demanding answers.

  She didn’t bear even a passing resemblance to the pliant sensual woman who had shared his bed earlier.

  He pulled the covers over his naked body, not because he was embarrassed but because he even found her anger sexy, and he doubted she’d appreciate seeing the evidence.

  “Exactly how did you come to these conclusions?” he asked.

  “I couldn’t sleep and decided to start working on your Web site. When I couldn’t get an Internet connection on my laptop, and yours was still running scans, I decided to use your desktop instead.”

  He exhaled a long groan. He couldn’t accuse her of snooping. He’d left his notes up on the screen. “If you’ll calm down, I can explain.”

  “I’ll bet you can,” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.

  “Lexie?” he asked, deceptively calm.

  “What?”

  “Sit down and be quiet for five minutes.” He pointed to the edge of the bed.

  Glaring, she flopped onto the side of the mattress, far from him.

  He wanted her to calm down and think clearly, something she wouldn’t do if she were steaming mad and working up a snarky answer to everything he said.

  “You knew I was going to be looking into the history of the jewels, remember?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “And sharing what you learned. I don’t recall your mentioning that I was right about the Lancaster family or that they were the ones who owned the jewels. Especially not before you slept with me!”

  He clenched his jaw. “Because I wanted to find out more first. I was hoping I’d discover something that exonerated your grandfather so that by the time you found out there’d be nothing for you to worry about.” Surely she’d understand his looking out for her.

  Her scowl told him otherwise. “I don’t need you babying me. I can handle whatever you find as soon as you find it.”

  “Stubborn woman.” He shook his head and leaned back against the headboard. “Fine. Next time I find out something I’ll tell you. Are you satisfied?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? We haven’t even gotten to the part about how you’re planning to write this story!”

  Coop pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lexie,” he said, holding on to his patience. “I’m a reporter. What did you think I’d do with an unsolved crime mystery?”

  “I sure as heck didn’t think you’d use my family to build your career!” Her voice cracked with emotion, but she clearly refused to show any weakness. Instead, she remained at the edge of the bed, stiff with anger.

  A part of him didn’t blame her. This was her family he was talking about and of course she’d be protective. But the rational part of him still wanted to get through to her.

  “My reporting career is fine with or without this story,” he felt compelled to remind her.

  “But your novelist career isn’t.”

  He winced. “Low blow.”

  “So is this!” She gestured wildly toward the outer room, but not before he’d seen the flash of guilt in her eyes.

  She hadn’t meant the hurled insult, after all. Which was not to say it didn’t sting. “Let’s just get some sleep,” he suggested before either of them said anything else they might later regret.

  She turned to face him. “Promise me you won’t write the story if it involves my family.”

  He finally had an idea that not only clicked for fiction work but also might be a huge crime revelation. “I can’t. I need to see this thing through before I make any decisions.”

  She glared at him.

  “I’m being honest, which is what you want from me, right?”

  Lexie sighed. “What I want is for this mess to go away.”

  He understood her feelings. “I didn’t create it.”

  She merely inclined her head.

  “I think we should get some sleep and deal with things in the morning.” He patted the space beside him.

  Despite his clear invitation, he expected her to get dressed and go home. To his surprise, she climbed into the free side of the bed, punched the pillows and curled into a ball, facing away from him.

  As he shut off the lamp, Coop didn’t know whether to call it progress or not, and decided he’d find out in the morning.

  Lexie woke up long before Coop thought she did. She wasn’t a morning person, and no good could come of another argument when she was more likely to act on emotion than fact. As she’d done after reading his personal notes last night.

  Of course, she’d known he was a reporter and a writer and he’d use whatever he discovered. But that didn’t mean she had to like it or that she wouldn’t do whatever she could to prevent him from doing so. One step at a time, she thought.

  The first step was to pull herself together. So when she first opened her eyes and sensed him beside her, she feigned sleep until he rose, showered and walked out of the room. Only then did she stretch and let her body come awake. She showered and dressed again in yesterday’s clothes. Then, praying that Coop had made coffee, she drew a deep breath and headed into the kitchen to face him.

  As soon as she stepped out of the bedroom, the smell of breakfast assaulted her senses. A quick glance told her he’d set the table and now stood at the stove flipping an omelet in a pan.

  “He cooks as well as makes coffee,” she said, taking in the full pot in the coffeemaker. “How did I get so fortunate?”

  “Just lucky, I guess.” Coop eyed her warily, judging her mood. “Have a seat.”

  One omelet waited for her at the table, and Lexie eased herself into a seat.

  He put the next omelet onto a plate, set it down on the table, poured two cups of coffee and joined her. “I’ll take the one that’s been sitting.” Before she could argue, he reached out and exchanged his plate for hers.

  “I would have eaten that one.”

  “I don
’t mind if it’s cooled off some. You eat the hot one,” he said and began to eat.

  “Thanks.” Lexie picked up her fork, but couldn’t manage a bite over her queasy stomach. She’d had some awkward morning afters before, but none with a guy she really liked and had shared spectacular sex with.

  The prolonged silence sliced through her until she couldn’t stand it another minute. “Sorry I woke you last night.” Her gaze remained on the omelet he’d generously cooked despite her bad behavior.

  “What about throwing a pillow at me? Are you sorry for that, too?”

  Embarrassed, she raised her gaze only to find him grinning at her.

  The knot in her stomach eased. “I guess you don’t hold a grudge?” she asked.

  “Takes a lot to royally piss me off,” he said, between mouthfuls. “Your not eating my food might send me over the edge.” He waved his fork, gesturing for her to dig in.

  She shrugged and started breakfast, surprised to find the eggs fluffy and delicious. “My God, you’re good.”

  “I recall your saying something to that effect last night.” He winked at her, then continued. “Actually, my mom taught me. She said it wouldn’t kill me to learn to feed myself.”

  She caught both the affection and the wistfulness in his tone. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?”

  Coop nodded. “My family sort of divided in half in that my father understands my brother’s mind-set a lot better than mine. My mom used to get me.”

  “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “She had a brain aneurysm about five years ago. She died in her sleep. No warning, no nothing.”

  Lexie shuddered. She might not have a warm, fuzzy relationship with her own mother, but she did with her grandmother, and she couldn’t imagine his pain. “I’m so sorry.”