by Lori Foster
Her thoughts scrambled and her heart pounded hard. Was she actually considering this?
Yes, she was.
Drew didn’t let up. “Why not live a little, you know? I’ll make it worthwhile, scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“How would you know?”
Another misconception on her part? “Were you?”
“No.”
Of course he wasn’t. Drew Black would never be able to follow rules. Could she handle that? Gillian bit her lip in indecision.
“Come on, Gillian,” he encouraged. “What do you say?”
She drew in a deep breath. “I say . . .” She looked at Drew and gave up. “If no one will know, then there’s really no reason to wait until we aren’t working together.”
His expression was priceless, a mixture of surprise, anticipation, and red-hot heat. Then his mood darkened as he put on his turn signal. “Talk about fucked-up timing.” Pulling into the small lot behind the tattoo parlor, he parked and killed the engine.
Before Gillian had time to blink, he unhooked her seat belt and pulled her half over the console to kiss her silly.
By the time he finished with her, the windows were steamed up—and so was Gillian.
With his mouth still touching hers, he said, “This will probably take a couple of hours.”
Gillian held on to his shoulders. “This?” His expensive sports car wasn’t really big enough for making out. She felt the parking brake dig into her side.
Humor lifted the corners of his sexy mouth. “Dickey, remember?” He smoothed a tendril of hair behind her ear. “That’s why we’re here.”
“Oh.” She tried to straighten away from him, but was too off balance.
Drew set her back in her seat. “But I like how you think. And hey, if it’s hours you want, come home with me after we take care of this. I’ll need to take the edge off first, but then, hey, I can last as well as any guy.”
What had she gotten herself into? Drew Black was more than she could handle.
But she couldn’t wait to try.
WITH the collar of his leather jacket turned up against the damp evening wind, Brett stood out front of Roger’s Rodeo. After the last few days of nicer weather, there was now a decided nip in the air. Black storm clouds obscured the moon and stars, leaving the neon lights of the establishments and the street lamps to glow through the thick humidity.
The flannel he’d put on over a T-shirt wasn’t doing much to keep out the cold.
A few feet down from Brett, a woman leaned against the wall and enjoyed a smoke. Her short leather jacket was meant more for looking good than protecting her from the weather. The glow of her cigarette showed in between ribald comments spoken a little too loudly about what she’d like to do to him. She was drunk and easy to ignore, but her smoke irritated Brett as it carried on the wind.
For him, there was a fine line between bold enough to be sexy, and so brazen that it became a turnoff. Courage from drink was always a pain in the ass. And he couldn’t abide kissing women who tasted like an ashtray.
Audrey Porter, with her moral crusade, intrigued rather than annoyed. Brett liked women dolled up or dressed down. He liked it when they fussed with their nails and makeup, and when they went natural. He liked them sexy in short dresses and comfortable in worn jeans.
Until he set eyes on Audrey and knew that she pushed every single one of his buttons, he’d never really thought about preferences.
Just as the lady down the way sidled up to Brett, determined to strike up a conversation, a small car pulled up to the curb. Beneath the light of a street lamp, Brett could see Audrey in the passenger seat. Tonight she had her hair in a high ponytail and thin gold hoops in her earlobes.
Anticipation sparked in his gut and before the hopeful woman vying for his attention could get a word out, Brett said to her, “Excuse me,” and went to the car to open Audrey’s door for her.
Behind the wheel, Millie waved to him. When she was smiling and happy, she really was cute, Brett thought.
“Hello, ladies,” he said. “Looks like you just beat the storm.”
Audrey stared at him with nervousness, and that endeared her to him even more. She didn’t say anything, just froze with her hands on the seat belt latch.
Brett leaned in and unhooked it for her. “I see you hitched a ride.”
“My car is being serviced,” she blurted out. “New tires, long overdue. I thought I’d have to cancel, but Millie was nice enough to chauffeur me.”
“Not a problem,” Millie said. “I was going out anyway. What time should I come back for her?”
Audrey started to reply, but Brett beat her to it. “How about I bring her home and save you the trouble? We really don’t know how long we’ll be, and I’d hate to interrupt your plans.”
“You wouldn’t be interrupting,” Millie told him. “I’m just meeting at a restaurant with some friends. I’ll be in the neighborhood anyway—”
Brett took Audrey’s arm and urged her out of the car. “But hey, if it works out, I might be able to talk Audrey into staying late.” Now with her standing at his side, he put his hand to the small of her back. Even through her jacket and sweater, he felt the vitality of her. “What do you say, Audrey? Okay if I drive you home?”
Put on the spot, she stalled, then nodded. “Sure. That should be fine. Thank you.”
Millie asked, “Are you sure?”
Brett didn’t know if he should be amused or annoyed. If either of them really considered him untrustworthy, why accept his invitation in the first place?
“I’m sure.” Audrey leaned down. “Thanks again, Millie. See you tomorrow?”
“Noon. I’ll be there.” When Brett shut the door, she gave a friendly wave and put the car back in gear.
Audrey shivered in the brisk wind, giving Brett the perfect excuse to pull her protectively against his side. “Where did spring go?” he asked her as he led them inside.
“The weather report said it’s just a temporary cold front. It should be nice again by Wednesday.” She wore a puffy down jacket with skinny jeans, black ankle boots, and a black turtleneck. Her fair skin and blonde hair made a striking contrast against the dark sweater.
She hadn’t exactly piled on the makeup, but Brett could see a hint of lip gloss and her lashes looked darker, longer, surrounding her deep brown eyes.
When she cleared her throat, he realized that he stood there staring down at her.
“Is there a place for us to put our coats?”
Shaking himself, Brett grinned. “Yeah, sorry.” He helped her out of her jacket and, along with his, gave it to the coat check. “I got distracted looking at you.”
“Why?” She put her palms to her cheeks. “Is something wrong?”
“Not a thing.” Running a hand along her ponytail, Brett took in the sleek softness . . . he’d love to see her hair fanned out on his pillow as he made love to her. “You look terrific tonight.”
Her shy smile flickered. “Thanks.” Indicating her jeans, she said, “I wasn’t sure what to wear, but I figured jeans went everywhere.”
Because he couldn’t help himself, Brett put his hands on her slim waist. “On you, jeans look especially sexy.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move away.
Bending down, Brett put a butterfly-soft kiss on her cheek. Her scent, that of shampoo, woman, and fresh air, left him feeling like he’d had one too many drinks. She gave him a buzz, and he liked it. For only a moment, he lingered, relishing her closeness.
But unwilling to push his luck, he straightened, took her hand, and headed into the main bar area. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
Honest. He liked that. Too many women picked at their food. Audrey was slight, but he had a feeling it was a fast metabolism that kept her that way, not a perpetual diet. “Let’s get some food first then.”
“First?”
Weaving around couples on the dance floor, Brett waited until they’d
reached the other side of the main room to speak again. “We’ll try everything tonight, okay?”
Speechless, her lips parted, but she said nothing.
This time, Brett gave her a quick, very unsatisfying kiss on her mouth. Staying close so she could hear him, he teased her. “Get your mind out of the gutter, woman.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I meant pool, dancing . . . the bar activities.”
Even more flustered now, Audrey stared up at him and seemed to melt. Her eyes darkened and her lids grew heavy.
Taking Brett by surprise, she went to her tiptoes—and kissed him.
A real kiss. A hot kiss.
Her fingers sank into his hair and her lips moved over his with barely restrained hunger.
Not one to pass up an opportunity, Brett wrapped his arms around her and turned so that she had her back to the wall. He had a feeling that public displays of affection were not the norm for Ms. Audrey Porter. In this position, with one hand braced on the wall beside her head, and her small body tucked in close to his, he protected her from view of anyone else in the place.
Taking over the kiss, Brett cupped her face in his free hand and leaned into her so that she felt all of him—and so that he could feel her.
Her breasts were on the small side, but so rounded and firm that he had to struggle not to touch her there. Even through her bra and sweater, he felt the stiffening of her nipples, and it tested his resolve in a big way.
She tipped her hips in against him, curled her fingers in his hair, and the perfect fit made his heartbeat heavy. Audrey was small and delicate and so soft and sweet, he wanted to take her right here, right now.
When he teased her mouth with his tongue, she opened for him, even turned her head a little to accommodate the deepening kiss. Hot with both need and frustration, Brett groaned.
Never had he expected this.
Hell, he’d been hoping to steal a real kiss when he took her home. If he got to take her home. But to have her initiate things right here in the middle of the bar . . .
Before he got any more carried away, he slowed things down, easing away from her by small degrees, kissing her jaw, beneath her ear, and then pressing her head to his shoulder so they could both catch their breath.
Her hands clenched in his shirt and he could feel her heartbeat galloping.
“Damn, woman.” He kissed her temple, and wanted to go on kissing her. But now, here, wasn’t the time or place, especially since he teetered so close to a boner. “Hell of a nice surprise.”
Stiffening, Audrey put her forehead to his sternum. He could feel her shaking and, hoping to soothe her, he coasted his hands up and down her narrow back.
“I’m sorry.”
Brett did a double take. “What’s that?”
She levered back to look up at him. Expression stricken, cheeks hot with color, she cleared her throat. “I said I’m sorry. I was out of line.”
Was she kidding him? One side of Brett’s mouth kicked up. “Honey, you don’t hear me complaining.”
“But . . . but I’m giving you the wrong impression.”
The impression he got was that she wanted him almost as much as he wanted her. “Yeah? How so?” Brett couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say. By the second, this got more interesting.
“I’m not that . . . that easy.”
Already knowing that, he shrugged. “Never said you were.” She appeared so distraught, Brett wanted to get her alone and someplace quiet. Unfortunately, no such place existed in the bar.
Brett touched her chin and lifted her face. “It was just a kiss, Audrey. One hell of a kiss, but still . . .” He grinned.
“It’s just that . . . well, ever since I agreed to meet you here, I’ve been thinking about this.” She bit her bottom lip. “About kissing you, I mean.”
Good to know. “Me, too.”
Skeptical, she frowned a little. “Really?”
Hadn’t he been plain enough yet? “Hell yeah. I’ve thought about kissing you, and a whole lot more.”
Groaning, she covered her face. “But that’s just it. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that because I’m not going to do . . . well, a whole lot more.”
She was so damn cute. Charmed, Brett cupped a hand around her neck beneath that adorable ponytail. “Don’t sweat it, Audrey. I’m not a guy who pushes, okay?”
Gasping, she dropped her hands to stare at him. “But that’s all you’ve done is push!”
True enough. Brett couldn’t help but laugh at her outrage. “Yeah, to get to know you, sure. But I meant I wouldn’t push you for sex.” Hard as it’d be—in the literal sense—he meant what he said. For him, no meant no, period. “You want to kiss, we’ll kiss. You know I enjoyed it. A lot. But anytime you call it quits, we’re done. Got it?”
Still she hesitated.
“Look, I don’t want you to be afraid to kiss me, or touch me, or do whatever you want. I’ll go on record right now as saying an enthusiastic Hell yes.”
She blushed at his sincerity.
“But it’s up to you, Audrey. Always. Deal?”
After a second or two, she nodded. “Thank you for understanding. Believe me, I normally don’t go around attacking men.”
He bent his knees to see her face. “Tell me you enjoyed the kiss, too.”
Her voice lowered. “I did. Too much, probably.”
“Great.” With heartfelt sincerity, Brett told her, “Feel free to attack me anytime you want.”
She almost laughed. “Brett.” She did smack his shoulder, then left her hand there, caressing him—until she caught herself. “God, this is awkward.”
Drawing her closer, he looped his hands at the small of her back. “Shouldn’t be.” He loved it that she wanted him. “Not with me.”
“But that’s just it! I hardly know you. I definitely don’t know you well enough to . . . to get so intimate. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Except, well, you obviously know how good-looking you are.”
A compliment or an accusation? Again, Brett grinned. “I do, huh?”
Realizing how that had sounded to him, she rushed to explain. “I didn’t mean you were conceited or anything. I just meant . . . well . . .” She lifted her shoulders. “How could you not know? I saw that woman trying to get your attention outside. Every woman in here keeps looking at you.”
Brett resisted the urge to test her theory by glancing over his shoulder at the crowd. Right now, the only woman who mattered was her. “That’s an exaggeration.”
“Not really.” She studied his face and then his upper body. “I haven’t been on a date in forever. Years, actually.”
“That long, huh?” He didn’t have a single doubt that men had asked her out, so why wasn’t she dating?
“I’ve been totally focused on work, and on organizing WAVS. But don’t get the wrong idea about our group. We’re not a bunch of wallflowers.”
“Didn’t say you were.” But he found her defensive mode intriguing. It must be a touchy spot with her.
“Two of the women are in serious relationships. One is divorced. And Millie . . .” Audrey flapped a hand and smiled with affection. “She dates all the time. She’s actually outgoing with men, just not in crowds. She’s more of a movie-and-quiet-dinner type.”
He couldn’t have cared less about Millie’s social calendar. “So what’s the story with you? A woman as pretty and nice as you should have her pick of men every night.”
The compliments flustered her; Brett could tell that she didn’t think of herself that way.
“I just . . . haven’t been interested, I guess. But then suddenly you’re in the picture, and you really are nice and so incredibly good-looking and . . .”
Brett bent down and kissed her again. “So you lost your head, huh?”
She loosened up enough to laugh. “I told Millie this would happen.”
Had she told Millie that she wanted him? Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation . . . “Millie’s a worrier, isn’t she?”
“Sometimes.” Audrey moved one hand to his chest, just laying her hand there, sort of testing things. “We’re close, and she feels protective.”
Brett would have happily reciprocated, but he had a feeling that if he started pawing her chest, she’d run off.
Her dark-eyed gaze went from his mouth up to look into his eyes. “I can’t really blame Millie for how she feels. Since this place caters to the SBC, she has good reason to mistrust what goes on here.” Audrey let out a breath. “And so do I.”
CHAPTER 5
AUDREY felt a new tension in Brett and wondered at it. With her hand on his chest, she absorbed the hardness of him, the bulge of muscle and pure strength. She guessed him at over six feet, which meant he towered over her.
Usually the disparity in their sizes would have intimidated her. With Brett, it was exciting. He was by far the boldest man she’d ever met, but he had a genuineness about him, a gentlemanly “down-home” air that made everyone feel comfortable with him. Even Millie had commented on what a nice guy he was, and Audrey valued her insights.
Brett caught her hand and flattened it on his chest, keeping her still. “You have some kind of history with the SBC?”
Memories overwhelmed her, and she looked away. “One day, I’ll get the rest of the world to see the sport for what it really is.”
He frowned, but let that go. “Millie has the same beef as you?”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “We’ve been friends for a couple of years now, ever since she joined WAVS. We hit it off immediately. It was like we’d known each other forever. She’s been a wonderful friend—and that’s why I blame myself for what happened to her.”
Concerned now, Brett said, “That sounds ominous.”
After a deep breath, Audrey nodded. “Drew Black attacked her.”
Stunned, Brett took a step back. “No way. Sure, everyone knows that Drew is far from perfect, but I’ve never once heard about him hurting—”
“No, of course not.” Audrey shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that he’d attacked her physically.”
A small boisterous group joined them in the hallway, so Brett put his arm around her and started her again toward the stairs for the restaurant.
