Concealed Desire

by Eden Summers

  Positioning himself against the wall, Dean pulled the door open a little wider, making sure Beth’s body remained hidden. The sight of his father made his head throb. Dressed smart as always, his suit pants and crisp shirt were without even a wrinkle.

  His father’s eyes narrowed before he tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Son.”

  “What are you doing here?” Dean asked without preamble, unable to hide his hostility.

  Beth squeezed his arm, and he took the gesture as a plea to be civil, but after the morning they’d shared, he couldn’t stand his father being anywhere near her. Call it jealousy. Call it juvenile. He didn’t give a shit. He wanted the man away from her, not just now—for good. So yeah, working together would be inconvenient.

  “I could ask you the same question. I noticed your car in the driveway, and assumed Beth had borrowed it to get home. I had hoped you weren’t foolish enough to spend the night.”

  Foolish enough? He raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath through his nose, trying to keep his cool. The man could write the book on foolish decisions concerning women.

  “And why would spending the night be foolish?”

  His father scoffed, then continued to stare at him with a scowl. Dean knew the man was weighing his options. He wouldn’t want to cause a scene in front of Beth. Oh no, Max Sutherland couldn’t appear unprofessional in public. When he was a child, Dean had been flogged with his father’s belt until he couldn’t walk, for throwing a tantrum at a function with extended family. He’d been seven at the time, dying for attention from his father, but it never came. Not in the way he wanted. He’d grown up believing his father didn’t mind if their lives fell apart behind the scenes, as long as people didn’t hear their dirty laundry.

  “You know exactly why being here is inappropriate. You don’t hide your reputation.”

  Dean could only blink while his head threatened to explode. He wasn’t sure if the remark about his reputation was for argument’s sake or to remind Beth and gain the upper hand. But his father had no right to judge. At least the women Dean slept with understood his “one night only” rule. He never misled them, never committed to anything but physical gratification.

  He clenched his jaw and glared. The man had cheated on Dean’s mother for years, then left her to be with a gold digger half his age. Not to mention how Max rejected his own daughter, forgetting she even existed. Yet Dean was in the wrong? His father was nothing but a hypocrite.

  “So what,” Dean spat. “You’re allowed to proposition her like a hooker, but I can’t fuck her unless I offer her money?”

  He wanted to shock and inflict pain—and he had. Only he realized too late who he’d really hurt. Beth gasped and slipped her hand from his arm. Her wide eyes scrutinized him, as if she no longer recognized who he was.

  Shit. He always watched his tongue around Beth. Trust him to pick this most inappropriate time to be a crass bastard.

  “Goddamn it, Dean.” His father shook his head in disgust. “After all these years, you still haven’t grown up.”

  The disappointment hit him with the force of a sledgehammer, the air leaving his lungs in a huff. At thirty-two years of age he should have overcome the need to please the man he despised. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Oh no?” Max’s brows rose. “You go home every weekend with a different woman. You don’t respect them. You don’t care about them. You’re only concerned with yourself. And you make the receptionist screen your calls, for Christ’s sake.” He paused, gaining composure, and turned his attention to Beth. “You don’t deserve his flippant attitude.” He glared back at Dean. “I can’t believe you would be so petty, using Beth like this to get back at me.”

  His father didn’t elaborate, letting the words fall like stones. They both knew what he referred to, but he was wrong. This had nothing to do with Jessica, nothing to do with the past. This was about Beth, about sating a hunger he’d let eat away at him for too long. It was about taking a chance with a beautiful woman who he liked and respected.

  Dean glanced away, needing to concentrate before he flipped out. Over time he hoped the wealth of hatred he held for his father would dissipate. It hadn’t. He only learned to mask it better and with their issues moving back to the forefront, the animosity began to resurface, bringing the betrayal back in raw, unyielding pain.

  He remembered the events with vivid clarity. His mother’s tears, her sobbing wails as her hands shook, craving the medication to take away her heartache. The misery that consumed his younger sister over losing a father who was still alive, and how Dean had to adapt to the role even though he was a child himself. The memories of Jessica still hurt too; however, the woman herself barely rated a mention. He’d once thought he was falling in love with her. Now he knew better. When he’d caught her with his father, all cherished feelings for them both had turned to ash.

  His old man sighed and gave another shake of his head. Dean bit his tongue, pressing down until he tasted the coppery tang of blood.

  “I’m sorry to cause you all this trouble, Beth,” his father offered. “Please remember what I said earlier.”

  Dean was anxious to find out what they’d discussed but kept his mouth shut. Extending the conversation would only make this fucked-up situation worse, and he’d put Beth through enough already.

  She remained quiet beside him and gave a small nod. Without acknowledging Dean, his father dipped his head in farewell and walked away. Soon after, Beth did the same, turning to move with quick steps down the hall. He waited, needing to make sure his father left. It wasn’t until the black Mercedes pulled away from the curb and drove out of sight that he slammed the front door. The sound vibrated off the walls, piercing his ears, adding to the fury boiling inside him. He wanted to yell. He wanted to punch something. Hell, he would settle for a stiff drink, but right now he had to fix things with Beth.

  He stormed through the silent living room, past the kitchen, scanning each in search of her. Taking the stairs three at a time, he paced down the hall and to her bedroom. Apprehension tightened his chest as he approached her door. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d argued with a lover—apart from Jessica—and he didn’t know what to expect. Beth had a kind heart and he couldn’t imagine her lashing out, but angry women were temperamental. One minute they smiled, proclaiming nothing was wrong, the next your dick was in a blender with their finger hovering over the On switch.

  He leaned on the outside of the door frame, deciding to watch her for a moment. He wasn’t a chickenshit; he held back to give her space. And if that time allowed him to determine if she held any sharp objects, it would be all the better. Following her movements, her body now dressed in a loose T-shirt and tiny sweat shorts, he figured the guilt stabbing under his ribs couldn’t be worse than any physical pain she could inflict.

  “I’m sorry.” He took the first step into the room.

  Her spine stiffened, and she turned her neck to peer at him over her shoulder, his shirt in her hands. Her expression didn’t portray any emotion, no anger, no frustration, no betrayal, only the faintest hint of sadness in her eyes. She masked her feelings under a cool facade and walked over to hand him the shirt without making eye contact.

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” She turned and busied herself with making the bed. “I understand. It was just sex. I may not be known for sleeping around, but I’m not naive. I realize you’re a player, and I slept with you anyway.”

  He cringed. He’d never had a problem with his reputation before, but hearing the words from her lips made him feel less than worthy. He wanted to be good enough for her, someone she could be proud of. Not the sleazy womanizer the guys at work loved to congratulate.

  “Beth.” He stepped closer. Her eyes would tell him exactly how she felt, how bad he’d hurt her. He just needed her to lift her deliberately downcast gaze. “Look at me.” Dean held his breath while she turned to focus on him through dark lashes. Her chin may be high, but he took the time to notice the
little things she couldn’t hide. The way her throat convulsed with a swallow and how her lips pressed together in contained emotion.

  “Don’t do this,” he pleaded, but she glanced away.

  He stepped forward, needing to provide comfort, to touch her, to make sure he hadn’t lost her already. Placing his shirt on the bed, he took the final step that separated them.

  “This wasn’t casual for me.” He reached up to run his thumb over her cheek. The words weren’t a declaration of love, but they were monumental for him. He hadn’t put himself in a vulnerable position since Jessica, and going out on a limb was scary as shit.

  Silence reigned as he willed Beth to really look at him. “I didn’t think before I opened my mouth. I wanted to hurt my father, not you. I know that doesn’t excuse what I said, but…” He didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t known for apologies. He rarely made mistakes, so he never needed to use them.

  “I’m fine with the impulsive sex, or one-night stand, or whatever you want to call it, Dean, but I don’t appreciate being used to get back at your father.”

  He tilted his head, putting his face in her line of vision, and swallowed awkwardly at the glassy sheen in her eyes. “Beth…” Christ, this was so hard. “This thing between us has nothing to do with my father. It’s about me and you. I have issues with my old man that will never be resolved, but I would never use you.”

  He swore and tried to search for the words to convince her. “I don’t want this to be casual. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and I know you know that. Please just give me a chance to make it up to you.”

  He needed to make her understand without scaring the shit out of her. Beth, I’ve been fantasizing about you forever. I even received a bitch slap during sex because I called a lover by your name, and if I didn’t have warped relationship issues I would have asked you out the first day we met. Yeah, he didn’t see that going down so well. He needed to prove it to her. He just wasn’t sure how.

  “Spend the weekend with me,” he blurted, the sudden epiphany seeming like an exceptional idea.

  “No way.” Her reply was immediate, adamant, and punctuated with a shake of her head.

  He couldn’t hold back the chuckle that burst free. He got a kick out of the ease in which she turned him down. “Spend the day with me,” he counteroffered, this time boosting the effect with his trademark smile and dimples.

  She continued to shake her head. “No. You need to go.” She reached for his shirt and then pushed it to his chest.

  Ignoring her, he stepped closer, so their toes touched, his clothes now squashed between them. “I want to stay. I want to spend more time with you.”

  She regarded him as if he were dim-witted. “No.” Determination sparked in her eyes as she gave him a push back. His feet didn’t move and she huffed in frustration, but stayed in place. She was caving. If she didn’t want him here, she would’ve walked off by now. But here she stood, looking at him with defiance, trying to stare him down as his smile grew.

  Who would back down first? He grabbed his shirt from between them, making the next move and hoping to tempt her with his display of skin. He didn’t bother to take note of where it fell, instead concentrating on the way she clamped her lips tighter, trying to hold back the smile he could see in her eyes.

  She raised her brows and finally stepped away. “Well, have fun driving home half naked.”

  A stronger man would have let her leave, grabbed his shirt from the floor, and given her space. But Beth made him weak and needy in the hottest possible way. He’d had a taste of her, and now he burned for more. He needed to put his hands on her, to take advantage of her feistiness and sate his will to stroke her delicate skin.

  He captured her by the waist, spinning her without effort. She let out a gasp, then a high-pitched squeal as he gracelessly threw her onto the bed. Her body bounced from the impact, hair, legs, and arms flying in different directions. She righted herself, hastily moving on her knees to glare at him, while he regarded her with predatory intent.

  They fought to stare each other down in silence, Beth positioned and prepared as if he would pounce on her at any moment. Then her focus strayed, moving down his bare chest to his groin and the member of his anatomy that wanted to wave to her with enthusiasm.

  “Oh no.” Her eyes shot back to his, a slight blush reddening her cheeks. She shook her head with determination. “I’m not sleeping with you again.”

  Really? He wasn’t convinced. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day soon he would make sure they made love again. “I didn’t ask you to. I only asked you to spend the day with me.”

  “Well, your little friend is voicing his own demands.” She pointed her index finger at the bulge growing in his pants.

  He smiled at her words and the breathy way they left her lips. “Little friend?” The blush on her cheeks darkened. “I didn’t hear you complaining about his size earlier?” He teased her, knowing she’d be uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.

  She puffed out her chest, pretending to be fed up, and backed off the bed. “If you think I’m going to help inflate that oversize ego of yours, you can think again.” She shooed him away with a flick of her wrist, a faint smile tilting the corners of her lips.

  As she walked past, he grabbed her hand, entwining his fingers with hers and squeezing ever so gently. If playful teasing wouldn’t work, he would take another route.

  He let the humor fall away from his expression, replacing it with a heartfelt seriousness he hoped she believed. “Please, Beth. Let me spend the day with you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Dean’s fingers encased her wrist. The delicate hold ceased her movements and stopped her heartbeat altogether. Although he liked to play tough the majority of the time, the torment in his eyes made her acknowledge that maybe he was hurting too.

  The words he’d used with his father earlier had left her feeling cheap and dirty. Dean had rarely sworn in front of her. So the abrupt change in persona had hit with the force of a physical blow. Nevertheless she accepted his apology and believed he hadn’t meant to hurt her. The remorse was clear in his expression.

  Her forgiveness didn’t mean she should spend the day with him though. Beth could already feel the rapid beat of her pulse under the press of his fingers. More time with Dean would be a mistake, a supersized, colossal mistake. The whole day together would only ensure more damage to her heart when things ended. Still she found herself wanting to agree. Then before she knew it, she had opened her mouth. “No sex.”

  He jerked his head in surprise, or maybe he was insulted by the stipulation. He would probably renege on his plans if sex wasn’t involved. She began to think he was about to reject her terms when his face brightened with smug satisfaction.

  “No sex,” he echoed with too much seduction in his tone to even consider its credibility. He knew he had the upper hand where sex and persuasion were concerned. The bastard practically had the monopoly on the market, so she would need to be firm on the no nookie front.

  She sighed in defeat and raised her gaze up his delicious chest. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t turn down more time with Dean. She already wanted to lick a trail from the muscular join of his hips—or cum gutters, as Ange like to refer to them—all the way up to his dark red nipples. If only she could trust Dean to be true to his word.

  Glancing back up to his face, she scrutinized him. She wasn’t sure Captain Copulation could agree to a no-sex rule without his manhood shriveling away.

  “You promise?” As much as her core clenched in protest, she needed to sort out her feelings for him before they dived between the sheets again.

  “No sex. Scout’s honor.” He held up his hand in what she assumed was a scout’s pledge. Beth opened her mouth, prepared to surrender, but Dean cut her off. “Unless you beg for it.”

  She fixed him with a glare. “There will be no begging, Dean Sutherland.”

  Cocky bastard.

  His self-confidence rubbed off
on her and she felt empowered to do a little teasing of her own. His gaze followed her as she moved into him. With deliberate purpose she stared at his mouth provocatively, running her tongue over her lips in blatant invitation. A burst of pride warmed her belly when she noticed his Adam’s apple convulse. Yes, two could play this game.

  “Unless you plan on begging,” she whispered with a curve to her lips.

  His head moved closer, continuing the seduction, taking the game to the next level. His lips stopped millimeters from her ear, the warmth of his breath traveling down her neck, under her skin, and down her spine. She could feel the movement of his lips against her hair as he whispered, “I’m not too proud to beg. For you.”

  A moan betrayed her resistance, slipping past her lips before she could stop it. Damn the man and his unwavering sex appeal. She already wanted to cave and take back her stipulation. There was no way she would last the entire day.

  “So does this mean you’ll spend the day with me?”

  She pretended to ponder the idea for a moment, glancing off into space while tapping her chin with her index finger. He seemed happy to continue the charade by acting impatient. First his hands gripped her hips, then he walked his fingers up her sides, gently digging in to tease her ribs. She hated being tickled, always had, but she loved his large hands on her body in equal measure. Even in torture his touch enslaved her.

  Her body began to wiggle, her toes curling, unable to withstand the suffering. She gasped, trying to scream. “Y-yes. Yes, OK, I’ll spend the day with you.”

  The pressure stopped immediately, his hands now lowering to rest on her hips. He gave a sincere smile, dimples showing and all, before doing the last thing she ever imagined a grown man would do. He fist pumped like a teenager. “Yesss.”

  She threw her head back with a bark of laughter and the tension drained from her body. When she looked back at him, she could see true happiness in his eyes. She wanted to believe it came from something deep and emotional, like making her happy, but her brain knew better. She needed to keep reminding herself that things between them were only casual.