And that was the right of it. He wanted her, but not like that. Not when she was reacting to how he’d pushed her buttons. Not if she was looking at him as some kind of saviour, some kind of cure. That’s not what he was about. He wasn’t anyone’s hero. It was too much responsibility for a bloke who some mornings had trouble remembering his name and still didn’t have the guts to call his own mother.
There had to be a better way of coming at this. Something more sane, something more equal, a place where the balance of power between them was a shared thing, less about his dominance and her seesawing between fear and courage. It didn’t need to be forever, but it could be serious fun, but only if he could be sure she wouldn’t get hurt.
But he couldn’t be sure about that because he’d already hurt her so easily. First by scaring her, then by toying with her and trying to shake her out of her hiding place, and now by rejecting her.
Shit. He didn’t mean to reject her. He didn’t reject her. It just couldn’t be like this. He hardly remembered who he was himself, did he remember how to be with a woman when she wasn’t a suspect or a colleague or someone he needed to use or extract something from?
Maybe not, because that’s how he’d been treating her, like a plot he had to unravel, a mystery he needed to know the ending of. She was more than a whodunit, more than a head game to keep him interested while he waited for the towns to roll by.
She had to be able to talk to him without checking herself, smile at him without pulling it back, laugh at him and enjoy herself, before he could let himself have her. Anything else would be harassing the witness.
There was only one way he was going to know she was really choosing him, and one way he’d know he was safe to choose. It was going to need work and a whole lot more honesty than either of them had shown so far. There was no chance he could quick talk his way out of this. He’d humiliated her. He’d have to show her where he was coming from.
He considered changing. Putting a shirt and shoes on at least. But nope, she’d been perfectly happy to run her hands over his chest ten minutes ago, and if things went the way he planned she’d be perfectly happy to do it again. Nah, that was a rationalisation. He just wanted her hands on him again. He left his jeans on and went down the corridor to her room.
She didn’t answer at the first knock. He looked around in a moment of panic. She’d had enough time to shoot through, but there was the Statesman parked in the space they’d left it. He knocked again and listened. Nothing. Not a sound from inside.
“Cait, open up I need to talk to you.”
Nothing.
“Cait, open up.”
“Are you hurt? Are you bleeding?”
He was relieved to hear her voice. “No. Open up.”
Nothing.
“Open the door or I’ll bust it in.”
That got her attention. “Go away.”
“Can’t do that. Something I need to fix.”
“I don’t want you to fix anything. Go away.” She was standing closer to the door now.
“Can’t hear you. Open the door.”
“Fuck off!”
Oh yeah. Loud and clear. Not what he’d been hoping for. “Stand back, I’m coming in.” He bumped his good shoulder into the door, once, twice. He only wanted to pop the cheap latch, not break the whole door. He hoped she hadn’t put the chain on. From inside she was calling him for all his sins and a few he’d not even considered. On the third tap the latch gave and the door swung wide.
“Get out or I’ll scream.” She was standing well away from the door. Their dress standards matched. She was only half dressed too. Just in a t-shirt. It skated around her thighs, showing him slender legs, muscles tight and ready to run.
“You’re screaming now.” He stepped inside and pushed the door closed. “You’ll wake the neighbours.”
“Get out. I don’t want to see you.” She folded her arms defensively and the hem of the shirt came up.
“No. But I want to see you.” He blinked to clear his head. “I want to see you a whole lot.”
She laughed bitterly. “That’s not what you said.”
“Yeah, well, you pretty much jumped me and I wasn’t thinking too clearly.”
“You said it was wrong. It was a bad idea. You told me to forget it ever happened. You said you didn’t want me.” She was so angry, but she’d been crying; her red-rimmed eyes, the shine on her cheeks, and the sniffle in her breathing gave that away.
“Oh, I want you. Just not the way you planned it.”
“You have a better plan?”
He grinned. This was an echo of the conversation about the apartment in Mildura. “I do. Come out with me.”
“Are you asking me to go on a date with you?” Her chin came up and her eyes went from narrowed to flared wide as she shifted from angry to incredulous.
“Yes. I’m asking you to come on a date with me. Three dates. Starting tomorrow night. Dinner and a movie.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Is that no?”
“Why would I go anywhere with you now?” She half turned away, dismissive.
“Because ten minutes ago you were ready to go to bed with me.”
“A lot can happen in ten minutes.”
“You’re right. Ten minutes can be a lifetime. Come out with me.”
“No.” That was punctuated with a head toss that made a hunk of her soft hair flick over her shoulder.
“Why not?”
“I don’t have to give you a reason.”
“Yeah, you do. I deserve one.”
She turned to face him again. “You broke my door in. You get nothing from me.”
It was feeling like that would be the outcome. “I made sure we didn’t do anything stupid. I can’t say I liked it. You in my arms—that’s my idea of a good time.”
“I hate you.” She swept a hand towards the door. “Get out.”
“I want you in my arms, in my bed, anywhere you’ll have me, but not like that.” She looked stunned. He understood that look. He’d worn it himself ten minutes ago. “You don’t know whether to kiss me or scratch my eyes out. I don’t want to wake up wondering if you regret your choice. I want to wake up knowing you’re with me because you want to be, not because I drove you to distraction and pushed you into it.”
“You’re no better than Justin. You want to control my choices. You want to make my decisions for me.”
“No. Caitlyn, that’s exactly what I don’t want to do. But I don’t trust myself. You and me. We’re not meant to be. We’re a cheat, we’re a con. We’re a car crash. I’m not right in my head and you’re hiding from yourself. That’s a homemade recipe for disaster. I want you something fierce, but I want to know when I take you, it’s not because any woman would do. You deserve better than that.” His hands came to his hips and her eyes followed. “So you tell me why you won’t come out with me.”
“Because I hate you.”
That look didn’t present like hate. “You think you hate me because I hurt you. Get to know me and hate me for real.”
“Get out.”
“I’ll go, but I want something first.”
“What?”
“Proof.”
“That I hate you?”
“Yep.”
“My word isn’t good enough?”
“Not even close.” He moved fast. He couldn’t wait any longer for this. He grabbed her arms and pulled her against him. “Show me you hate me, Cait.”
Her hands went to his chest. He locked eyes on her face, looked for any sign she wanted out of this crazy: a scowl, coldness in her expression, a mean twist to her lips. He got a quirked eyebrow, a pout, wide, excited eyes.
He kissed her hard, take no prisoners style. No mistake about what he meant by it. Total possession. She tried to push him away, hands on his arms, bracing back, and he almost let go, almost let her call the shot for herself, but her lips softened and her grip on him changed. Now she was pulling into him instead of away. He w
rapped her closer, holding the kiss, opening his mouth to it, making it slower, softer, deeper. The swag of tension in his shoulders went slack when her hands came up around his neck. When her tongue met his, he groaned in delight. How had he managed to walk away from this?
He lifted her, backed her up against a built-in cabinet and sat her there. Now he could run his hands over her legs. He opened her knees so he could stand between them. He clocked desire in her face, in the way she rolled her eyes shut, arching her back to him when he put his hands under her shirt and over her breasts.
She gripped his head, dug her fingers in hard. “I hate you.”
He groaned, his lips against her neck. He pulled the cup of her bra aside and filled his palm with her hot skin. She shuddered. “I hate you so much, Sean.” She wrapped her lovely legs around his waist and her heat set him on fire.
He brushed his nose along her jaw, grazing his teeth there, stopping to kiss, overwhelmed by the sweet, tart citrus smell of her skin. “I love the way you hate me.”
He came back to her lips, plump and wet and wild for his. It wasn’t enough to taste her, to have her tongue slide on his. He wanted her body, he ached to know he could have her, but he wanted her mind as well, her fears, her hopes, her truths.
He broke the kiss, panting into her collarbone, feeling the ridges of her nails carve into his back, this time from want not in anger. “Come out with me?”
Her, “Why,” was a breathless sigh. It was a secret instruction to his body to vibrate with need for her. She knew it. Demon woman. She tightened her legs around him. No easy escape. None wanted.
“Because I want to know you.”
“Take me to bed, it’s good, it’s enough.” She kissed a line along his jaw and he dropped his head back to give her access to his throat.
“It’s not enough. Come out with me?”
“No.” She bit hard and he hissed in protest; that she did it, that she stopped. He had no idea. “You get your own way too often.”
“So make me work for you.” He had her bra undone and he teased her nipples, while he nibbled the soft lobe of her ear.
She gasped. “You’re working for me now.”
He stilled his hands and lifted his head to watch her. There wasn’t much of him left that remembered there was a bigger plan at play here. But enough, just enough to know there was a better way.
“That’s the free sample, Caity.”
She tried to chase another kiss. He let her. He was so close to letting her do any fucking thing she wanted to him. “You want more, you have to come out with me.”
She dug her fingers into his skull. He remembered how he wanted her to do that when she’d cut his hair, how he’d loved the tentative way she’d touched his back and chest. She wasn’t tentative now. She knew all the right moves.
“I don’t.” She tried to chase another kiss.
This time he pulled back. It was a herculean effort. It made his head spin. “Yeah, you do. You so do.”
She was pouting at him with swollen, wet lips, her hair a mess of dark curls, her eyes big oceans of blissed out pleasure. There was no run hard or long enough to make his body forget how insanely beautiful she looked or how much he wanted to make her look like that again and again.
He shook his head, put his hands to her knees and ran them up to her thighs, opening them wider so she uncrossed her ankles and released him. She braced back on her hands, her pelvis titled up to him.
He couldn’t stop the animal growl that come out of him as he put his hand against her wet core.
“I can’t believe I’m leaving you like this.” His voice was a husk of itself; ground away and blown out.
She made a grab for his shoulders. “Sean.”
He ducked out and stepped away. “Three dates and then we can come back to this and I won’t stop, I promise you.”
She shook her head. “I’m not coming out with you.”
He took a step away. She hadn’t closed her legs. He closed his eyes. “Liar.” When he opened them she was smiling. She was dazzling like hope and sunshine.
“Controlling bastard.”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
She closed her legs but it didn’t help. He knew how ready she was. “Why so late? If I have to go out with you, why not a lunch date? Why not breakfast?”
Caitlyn for breakfast, a menu he approved of, but they needed this diet to be healthy. “Because you need time.”
“For what?”
“To go shopping.”
She plucked at her t-shirt. “You don’t like my clothes.” He’d been so close to ripping that tent of a shirt off her. He still could, she wanted him too. Why was he torturing them both? He hadn’t picked her for a tease. He fucking loved it.
“I’d like to nuke ‘em.”
“I don’t dress for you.”
“Pity, because I can’t tell you how much I’d love to peel you out of a sexy dress. How much I’d like to see those legs in heels.”
Her mouth dropped open. He rocked on his feet. The door was a long way across the room and the woman was warm and inspiring and right within reach.
“I’ll come for you at six.”
“Can I trust you?”
He nodded. “I want you to be able to, but we need time.” He needed out of the room before he changed his mind and screwed it all up again.
“Why three dates?”
“One for you. One for me. One in case we change our minds.”
He went to the door, opened it, and took a step outside. She laughed and he turned to watch her tug her shirt down over her knees, like she was closing up shop.
“You could’ve had me tonight. I might not like you enough to let you near after three dates.”
He groaned aloud and she laughed again. Free, like he wanted her to. He pulled the door closed and leaned against it. She was driving him crazy.
Who was the sucker now?
24: Foreplay
The pickings were slim in Port Augusta. There was a Rockmans, a Just Jeans and two other shops that lived at the other end of the alphabet from the word boutique. Still Caitlyn found a way to make Sean’s eyes bug when she opened the door to him at the dot of six.
“You knocked?” she said, giving him mock surprise.
“Does that have a zip?” He gave her a melt plastic look. He shook his head, and gestured for her to step outside. “Better I find out in public.”
She stepped out. He was wearing his jeans and a collar and button shirt she’d not seen before, with the cuffs undone and the sleeves rolled up. He had boots on rather than his runners, and a new belt. She looked into his handsome face, with his sparkling eyes. Hard to believe he was all hers for the night. “We’re really going to do this?”
He offered her his arm. “We’re doing it.” She smelled aftershave, something spicy, oriental, but a world away from Tiger Balm. She took his arm and pressed into his side. He made a cough sound, half choking, half growl. “It has a zip. You did that deliberately.”
She laughed. She had three new dresses. All with zips. This one was a little young, a little tight, and definitely a lot racier than she’d have usually worn. She told herself she’d bought it because it was on sale and on another planet to her Target wardrobe. She’d bought it because she looked hot in it and she wanted to see what that did to him.
It was red with two side panels of leopard print. It had a sweetheart neckline and a split in the back seam so she could walk in her new black stilettos. She’d piled her hair up, but left it tousled. She’d bought a red lipstick and black mascara. She felt like a slightly slutty B-grade fifties starlet. Or a skittish horse. He was making her nervous. This whole idea had her feeling flirty and silly and her expectation for the evening was all out of proportion with what could possibly happen.
She picked up her new handbag and followed him outside. They’d have a meal, they’d sit in the dark and see a movie, whatever was showing. And then. And then. Well, that’s when things got fuzzy. He didn�
��t really mean they’d have three dates. She didn’t need three new dresses. After the movie they’d end up in one of their identical rooms and they’d finish what got started last night. So there was no reason to be nervous. She knew exactly what was going to happen. And it was going to be very good.
“We’re going to dinner and a movie, but I’m not happy,” he said, turning her to face him.
She gestured back towards the room. “Would you rather I got changed?”
He top to bottomed her with eager eyes and an evil snicker. It was enough of an answer. “When I ask a girl on a date I pick her up. I find myself in an unusual predicament.”
“Oh really, what would that be?”
“My chauffeur has the night off.”
“That must be difficult for you.” She walked towards the car, her heels clicking on the concrete. She knew he’d followed. It was as though she could feel his eyes caress her hips. She exaggerated their sway and knew she was right from his throaty laugh. She turned back to him and he stopped. She was level with the car boot. She fished her keys from the little black beaded bag and tossed them at him.
He caught them on the run, a big Christmas morning grin on his face. He went to the passenger side front door and opened it for her. She got in with a lot of knee and thigh and skirt-tightening action.
He said, “Buckle up,” and made it sound like something a normal person wouldn’t do in public.
He’d made reservations at the local Chinese. It was packed, the smells of cabbage and pork and black bean not unpleasant. They were the most formally dressed people in the room. The drone of conversation dropped to a hum when they walked in. They were the floorshow.
“You shouldn’t be been allowed out in that dress,” he rumbled in her ear when he pulled out her chair.
“If you remember, I was perfectly happy with the idea of staying in last night.”
He took his seat opposite. “I have no trouble remembering what you were like last night. It made it hard to sleep, emphasis on the hard, and distracted me all day.”
She dropped her eyes to her lap as heat flooded her face. “What did you do today?” Caitlyn had thought the day would drag, each hour filled with more than sixty minutes, like a long haul flight to an exciting destination without a good book. She’d thought she’d run into Sean at the motel or in the town, but he’d kept out of sight. She’d used her time to shop, run and pamper herself and the day had flown on a wind shift of anticipation that made her forget the reasons she’d ever wanted to remain aloof from him.
Floored Page 18
