Causing Havoc

by Lori Foster

  For three heartbeats, there was utter stillness in the room, and Eve knew he was looking at her. It must not have been enough for him, though, because he parted her with his fingers, too. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another second of his silent scrutiny, he made a small, rough sound and she felt his breath, his mouth, his tongue.

  The intense intimacy of it drew her tight, making her muscles spasm. She arched, twisting against him, then away from him because it was almost too much.

  Dean obviously didn’t know how to be timid about anything. He hooked his arms around her legs. The hold kept her still so that she couldn’t retreat from the overwhelming pleasure. Within seconds, another orgasm racked her. Dean didn’t withdraw.

  He continued to eat at her, insatiable, relentless.

  Tangling a hand in his hair, Eve moaned. “No more.” His tongue moved over her again, and she cried out. “Dean, it’s too much. Please.”

  Leisurely, he licked his way back up her body to her mouth. He treated her to small kisses and a few warm nuzzles that were somehow as erotic as everything that had come before them.

  Tears blurred her vision. “I feel shattered.”

  He raised himself up enough to look at her, his expression tight, dark. Expectant. His jaw clenched. He cradled her face in his hands.

  And in one long, deep thrust, he entered her.

  Eve cried out with the shock of it, the pleasure of having him finally fill her.

  His gaze burned her. No more smiles. No more teasing. “I’m glad that woke you up.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her more thoroughly. Against her lips, he murmured, “You taste so fine.”

  She should have been embarrassed—to have done the things they had so soon after meeting and then to have him comment on that intimacy in such carnal terms.

  But…Dean began a slow, easy yet deep rhythm, and somehow, in some outrageous way, Eve felt herself responding again. Amazing. So amazing that she just couldn’t muster up the strength to blush.

  “You…overwhelm me, Dean.”

  His fingers tunneled further into her hair, and he put his forehead to hers. “Good.” He spoke without breaking his slow, driving rhythm. “Because from the second I saw you in that back-ass bar, you’ve been under my skin.”

  Even through the sensual fog sifting around Eve, that sounded nice. Really nice.

  This time, Eve kissed him. When she started to smooth back his hair, he winced, and she saw stitches high on his forehead. So battered. So strong and capable. So damn sexy. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  Did he make light of all personal injury? Probably. For whatever reason, that seemed very endearing to her. And sad. And…

  “No, you don’t,” he rasped, and he thrust a little harder, rocking her on the bed, making her catch her breath. “Stay with me, Eve. I need you here.”

  How did he know her thoughts so easily? “I am here,” she answered gently.

  Holding her gaze, he lowered one hand to cup her breast. His fingertips played over and around her puckered nipple before carefully capturing the very tip and applying a tantalizing pressure.

  She gasped, not with pain but with a jolt of red-hot pleasure.

  “Better,” he whispered.

  Turnabout was fair play. And after climaxing twice, Eve finally felt capable of following through. She started by wrapping her legs high around his waist. Given the intensity of his gaze, he liked that.

  Smiling, she put her hands on his shoulders, away from any bruises or scratches. “Dean?”

  His jaw clenched. “Hmmm?”

  “I do like oral sex.”

  For only a brief instant, his eyes closed. “Yeah, I figured that out.”

  She saw that he was close but holding back. “Giving,” she whispered low, “as well as getting.”

  An arrested look of pure, hot lust darkened his face. His big body tensed, and he pulled back, only to reenter her harder, faster. “Good to know.”

  He left her breast to scoop a hand under her bottom, tilting her hips up so that each forward thrust took him impossibly deep.

  Her lips parted on a sharp inhalation.

  His fingers contracted on her bottom. “Okay?”

  She managed a nod. With Dean, she’d just learned things about herself that she hadn’t known before—like how pleasure and discomfort could combine into an irresistible lure.

  Her nails bit into his shoulders again.

  Dean didn’t complain, but he did study her face. “I don’t want to hurt you, Eve.”

  His concern warmed her. He started to ease from her, and she locked her ankles. “You’re not. Just the opposite.”

  He studied her a moment more, then took her mouth in a hungry, wet kiss. Against her lips, he murmured, “Good. Now come for me again.”

  Again? She couldn’t possibly….

  “Again, Eve.”

  The position he held her in ensured that each slick glide stroked along her clitoris while also touching deep inside her, and Eve thought…well, maybe she could.

  When his body stiffened, all his muscles bunching taut, she held him, closed her eyes, and joined him in release.

  Some time later, through the blur of exhaustion and satiation, Eve’s head began to clear. It had taken her longer to recuperate this time, but since Dean made no move to leave her, she didn’t mind. Against her breasts, she felt the continued pounding of his heart. He was still inside her, but not so much now.

  Sweat had melded them together—their stomachs, thighs. Each breath filled her lungs with his scent, intensified from their lovemaking.

  Numb, astonished, maybe even thunderstruck, Eve stared into nothingness.

  Three times.

  Who knew?

  Okay, so she’d read about it in books. She thought they were lies because it had never happened to her. She’d never imagined…never dreamed….

  One thing was certain—after this, after time with Dean, she’d never be the same. Since Dean intended to hightail it out of Harmony sooner rather than later, that was a pretty unsettling thought.

  Because she knew, she just knew, no other man would ever measure up to him.

  CHAPTER 8

  DEAN heard Eve sigh, a long, melodramatic sound that he didn’t understand at all. Every time he started to relax, she started pondering things. What things, he didn’t know. But he didn’t like it when she turned too thoughtful and got that wary look in her blue eyes.

  Maybe women had come too easily to him before now. He’d never really thought about it. But looking back, all the way to when he’d been no more than a teen, he realized that whenever he’d wanted sex, a willing female was easy to find.

  He wasn’t a man to fool himself, so he had to admit to the possibility that part of his attraction for Eve was her emotional distance. Physically she didn’t deny him. Even after they’d disagreed about his sisters, she hadn’t shut him out, hadn’t used sex to try to manipulate him. It wouldn’t have worked anyway, but…she couldn’t have known that.

  Was she just too honest to play those games?

  Just as Dean didn’t like fooling himself, he didn’t like brooding. Life for him was clear-cut. Black and white. Plain and simple.

  Or at least it used to be.

  Dean lifted his head to look at her, then couldn’t resist kissing her. And once he started, he didn’t want to stop. For her part, Eve didn’t move, didn’t even pucker.

  It didn’t discourage him. He’d exhausted her, and he knew it. She knew it, too. He deepened his kiss, his tongue in her mouth, his possession complete when he’d never before thought about anything as barbaric as possessing a woman.

  When he finally felt her stirring, he rolled to his back beside her. She wasn’t ready to give him one hundred percent again yet, and that’s all he wanted. All he’d accept.

  Letting out a long breath, Dean stared at the ceiling. He felt pleasantly sated, a little sweaty, and…unnerved. A first for him. Sexual encounters did not leave him feel
ing like this.

  Apparently sexual encounters with Eve did.

  As he lay there, he could practically hear her thinking. He could feel her heat. He could smell their combined scents and the scent of sex.

  Damn, but he felt attuned to her, and he didn’t really like it. Now that he’d had her, shouldn’t some of his edgy awareness be gone? Shouldn’t he be able to look at her with less…appetite?

  Dean turned his head to test that theory, but instead of detachment, he noticed Eve’s closed eyes, how her arms rested limply at her sides, palms up. She looked really soft and warm and cute, despite her tangled hair and smudged makeup.

  More than anything, he wanted to start again, to make her scream a few more times, to show her…what?

  Running a hand over his face, he contemplated his own obscure motives. He’d really been the show-off, when usually he didn’t care about proving anything to anybody.

  So he was a hell of a good lover?

  So what?

  His teeth locked. So he wanted Eve to know it, that’s what. He wanted her to remember him, always.

  But why? Sure, he liked satisfying a woman. In fact, he insisted on it. Any man worth his salt would see to a lady’s orgasm first. He’d always enjoyed those female sounds of pleasure, feeling the way a woman would curl her body around him in her excitement, the way satisfaction darkened her eyes.

  But he couldn’t recall ever pushing a woman so hard before. Hell, if Eve hadn’t started talking about oral sex—which his brain had visually and graphically equated to her giving him a blow job—he probably would have pushed her over the edge a few more times before letting himself come.

  Foolish. And irresponsible. And delicious and carnal and…

  He was still recovering from his last fight. He wasn’t in the best of shape, certainly not in shape for a sexual marathon.

  Yet he wanted her again. Right now.

  And short of that, he wanted to touch her. To pull her against his side. Snuggle with her.

  Shit.

  Dean put his hands behind his head, and he’d damn well keep them there.

  Eve shifted beside him. With a sleepy, luxuriant sound, she rolled to her side and gazed at him dreamily.

  Dean waited for her to compliment him, to admit to his exceptional lovemaking skills.

  She yawned. “It’s getting late.”

  Dean’s brows crunched down at that not-so-subtle hint. The way things had gone, he figured he’d be welcome for the night.

  Damn it, he didn’t want Eve to dismiss him. And he sure as hell didn’t want to get up and leave—which was a major first. He generally liked to end the night alone in his own bed, wherever his bed might be at the time. No commitments. No misunderstandings.

  Not that he used women. He took, but he also gave. He was generous. Eve could vouch for that.

  But tonight, right now, her bed suited him just fine. He was already comfortable. And damn tired.

  Pretending he hadn’t gotten the hint, Dean glanced at her. “Tell me something about you.”

  “Other than my sexual preferences, you mean?”

  Despite his exhaustion, his dick stirred, prompting him to say, “Up to you.”

  She laughed, then put her hand on his chest and stroked lightly over some deep bruises. “I don’t know. You go first.”

  “I saved an old lady once.”

  That surprised her.

  It damn near floored him.

  Bragging? Since when did he brag? Never. He detested braggarts. So why had he brought it up? To convince Eve that he was some kind of hero?

  He felt asinine.

  Eve propped herself up on an elbow. “What do you mean, you saved her? Her life?”

  Too late to pull back now. “Yeah.” Dean shrugged to make light of it. “Not a big deal really.”

  “Wow.” When he didn’t continue, she nudged him. “Tell me.”

  Disgusted with himself, Dean stared at the ceiling. “She was about sixty-five, I think. One second she was gabbing up a storm, then she keeled over. Heart attack or something like that. Everyone stood around looking at her, trying to decide what to do.”

  “Where was this?”

  “At an outdoor arena in California. I was signing autographs with some other SBC fighters. We’d been there for hours. The lady was in my line, about ten people back. I noticed her because I don’t normally get women that age wanting my autograph. It’s mostly guys of all ages and younger women.”

  Her eyes narrowed over the “younger women” comment, but she said nothing.

  “Anyway, one second she was fine, then boom—she hit the pavement like a bag of wet cement. I remember the sun was really bright that day, and I could see her turning blue.”

  “Oh my God. How awful.”

  “Yeah.” Dean scrutinized Eve’s expression. She looked appropriately appreciative of the situation, so maybe telling her wasn’t such a lame idea after all. “There was all this immediate chaos. The woman she’d been talking to started screaming and crying, and folks were trying to calm her down. One of the guards at the event called nine-one-one, but he was so excited, he wasn’t making much sense. Someone tried pouring water on her face, but she didn’t stir at all. After that, no one did anything. They just looked at her and fretted.”

  “Except for you?”

  Dean made a face. “I asked if anyone knew CPR, and got all these blank, horrified stares in return, so I did what I could.”

  “You resuscitated her?”

  “I guess. When the paramedics got there, I was still working on her. I started to get out of their way, but they told me I was doing fine and to keep it up while they got out a gurney and med kit and some other stuff. Then the lady started sputtering and gagging and I backed up real quick.”

  Eve grinned at him.

  “Once she was breathing, the EMTs took over and within a few minutes the ambulance was on its way to the hospital.”

  “You know for sure that she made it?”

  “I called the hospital and checked.” A reluctant smile pulled at him. “A few months later, she came to one of my fights, and Simon, my manager, brought her around back to meet me.”

  “She must have been excited.”

  He shook his head, remembering. “She’d brought me flowers.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Big yellow roses.” Simon had put the stupid things in water and toted them along when they left the arena. They’d lasted nearly a week. “She claimed the paramedics told her that she would have died without me. I don’t know if that’s true, but she seemed to believe it.”

  Eve tenderly smoothed his hair away from the stitches. “It’s a good thing you knew CPR.”

  “I didn’t.”

  She froze, her eyes widening. “Then how—”

  “Like most people, I’d seen it done in movies. And I figured she was dying anyway, so it wasn’t like I could hurt her by trying.” He shrugged. “That night, after I won the fight, I brought her up on the mat and had the photographers take a few photos for her. She blushed like a schoolgirl—but she loved it.”

  “That was so sweet of you.”

  Dean frowned. “It wasn’t sweet. It’s just that she’d been in my line for an autograph when she collapsed.”

  “So you felt responsible?”

  “No. But I figured giving her a little attention was the least I could do.”

  Eve looked at him with awe and with some softer emotion that Dean couldn’t nail down. He didn’t know if he liked it or not. And that made him uneasy.

  “It’s funny how most people will stand there, waiting for someone else to do something, instead of trying.” Her gaze tripped down his body and back up again. “But you’re not that type of man, are you?”

  Oh hell. She sounded all mushy now. “I’ll tell you one thing, I still catch crap from the guys.”

  “Why?”

  “Are you kidding? I gave an old lady mouth-to-mouth. At the time, no one was laughing. But now? Some of them in
sist that I molested her, that she was breathing just fine before I took her to the ground. Others claim she was faking, and I fell for it.” They’d said other, more crude things, but Dean didn’t share those. They were said in jest, and he had a feeling Eve wouldn’t appreciate the humor.

  “Gee, why am I not surprised?” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, men are all so mature.”

  Dean laughed. “Your turn. Tell me something about you.”

  She leaned over and kissed him. Then, uncaring of her nudity, she flopped onto her back. “The problem is that I’ve never saved anyone or done anything half as interesting as professional fighting.”

  “Well, hell, I hope not.”

  “Let me think about it for a minute.”

  After a sideways look ripe with impatience, Dean left the bed and went into her private bath. Outside he could hear the storm still raging, with rain and wind lashing the windows.

  When she still said nothing, he decided to help her along. “You attended college?” he prompted through the open door.

  “Locally. I majored in PR and later attended a tourism and hospitality management program.”

  “You ever been anywhere else?”

  “Just on vacations. Never any place exotic.”

  “No desire to move, to maybe see the rest of the country?” As he spoke, he cleaned up, ridding himself of the condom and again wondering if Eve would make him leave in the storm. If that’s what she planned, he wouldn’t make it easy on her.

  “Harmony is home. My family and friends are here. I wouldn’t mind visiting other places, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

  He stepped back into the bedroom in time to see her finish smoothing back the comforter. The moment she saw him, she hustled back into the bed and under a sheet.

  Dean didn’t wait for an invitation; he stretched out on his side facing her, propped on one elbow.

  Eve raised a brow.

  Grinning, Dean reached for the sheet, pulled it back, and tossed it to the bottom of the bed. Eve didn’t move, except to stiffen.

  He looked at her body, from her shapely, lightly tanned legs to her dark pink nipples, which were now soft and very tempting. His gaze went back to that little belly-button ring. He rested his hand on her stomach, relishing the warm silk of her skin.