by Lora Leigh
His hands still gripped her ass, his cock was still pressed as tight against her pussy as it could go with the layers of clothing between them.
“Rick?” She whispered his name again, her hand lifting to touch his lips, the caress like a fiery blast of renewed hunger striking at his gut.
What the hell was he doing? He’d known this was a mistake. Knew it. Now that he’d kissed her, tasted those tempting lips, how the hell was he supposed to just walk away?
“I could stay.” There he went again, letting his dick take control over his brain.
She blinked back at him as though in surprise. What surprise? She should have known where this was heading, just as he had known.
“Tonight?” She was still breathing hard, heavy.
His hands tightened on her rear as he moved against her again, feeling the heat of her through the denim, wondering if she was as wet as she was hot.
“Tonight,” he answered, his hands sliding from her rear to her legs.
He pushed the material of her dress up her legs, feeling the silky flesh as he watched her gaze become cloudy with desire again, her face flushing with it.
Sliding his palms to her thighs, his thumbs were within inches of the heated folds of her pussy when she jumped, her fingers suddenly closing over his wrists just as he was a hair-breadth from his goal.
He stared at the innocence, the uncertainty in her eyes. She wasn’t a damned teenager, she had to know what he wanted from her.
“Isn’t this going a little fast?” Her breathing was still rough, ragged.
“We’re not teenagers, Hannah,” he told her, his voice rough. He could feel the situation rapidly spinning out of control. “Adults don’t sugarcoat sex. We’re adults.”
She blinked back at him. “Oh wow. Really?”
His eyes narrowed. That wasn’t innocence in her tone, it was pure mocking disbelief.
“Hannah,” he said, warning in his voice. He would not allow her to have the upper hand. “We’re both about to burn out of control here. There’s no sense in denying it.”
“Am I denying anything?”
No, she wasn’t, but she was no longer the sex kitten she had been beneath his kiss. She was withdrawing, he could feel it, tensing in his arms, and that wasn’t what he wanted.
“This isn’t what you want?” He stepped back, expecting her to stop him. To wrap her legs around his waist and hold her to him, to protest the sudden chill that he could feel wrapping around his own body. Surely it was wrapping around hers, as well.
He made the mistake then of glancing down, seeing the hard little nipples poking against the thin bra beneath her dress. He almost went to his knees with a plea to just let him see them. Touch them. Suck them into his mouth and snack on them like the ripe little fruits he knew they would be.
She slid from the counter. A flush covered her cheeks, her neck. Arousal and a hint of anger burned in her gaze.
“Thank you very much for the locks on my doors and windows.” Her breathing was rough, and there was an edge of hurt in her voice.
“Hannah, what did you expect?” Exasperation filled him now. He wanted her so much he was about to burn alive with the lust.
She tilted her head and stared up at him, her gaze solemn despite the arousal that still darkened her bright green eyes.
“Why, I don’t know, Sheriff, a little romance maybe.” She waved her hand as though uncertain what to say or do. “A pretense of it anyway.” She shook her head as he stared back at her, confused. “Forget it. Maybe you’re just too old to remember what that means.”
Too old?
“How old do you think I am?” he growled, his gaze narrowing on her at the insult.
“I know exactly how old you are.” Her arms went over her breasts again, hiding the pert imprint of those hard little nipples. “I didn’t think thirty-seven was really that old until now. But if you’ve forgotten that the way to a woman’s bed is through her heart, then you’re older than I imagined.”
“Who the hell said I wanted your heart? What does that have to do with sex?”
Fuck.
Now, he knew better than that. He knew the instant the words left his lips that he’d just fucked himself right out of her bed.
“Good night, Sheriff.” Woodenly, chillingly polite, she moved past him to the kitchen doorway. “It was very nice seeing you again, and I do appreciate everything you’ve done tonight. But I need to wash my hair now.”
Wash her hair? The little minx. She was blatantly lying to him, using one of the oldest mocking excuses in the book just to piss him off.
Gritting his teeth, he moved past her, stalked through the house only to pause at the front door as she moved behind him.
“If you change your mind . . .”
“If I decide I want a cold, lonely fuck rather than a flesh-and-blood man, then I’ll make sure I call you first,” she promised sarcastically, her smile falsely bright as she opened the door, inviting him to leave. “But don’t hold your breath. It hasn’t happened once in my entire life, and I rather doubt it’s going to happen now.”
His lips thinned.
He had half a mind to jerk her to him, kiss her again, experience that heady, heated gut punch of pleasure, just to see if it was as damned good as he remembered.
Instead, he gave his head a hard shake and left, as she invited him to do.
For good, he told himself. He wanted her. He’d wanted her longer than he should have, but he’d be damned if he’d let her lead him around by the cock.
“Good night, Hannah.” He left, ignoring the ache in his cock, and the unfamiliar ache in his chest.
“Good night, Rick.” Her voice was soft, and a second later he heard the door close behind him.
He should have known better, he told himself. Damned kindergarten teacher, she was probably as immature as her students were. He was better off. He should have known better. He’d make sure he didn’t make the same mistake twice.
* * *
HANNAH LISTENED until she heard Rick’s truck reverse out of the drive and head down the quiet street she lived on.
Head lowered, eyes closed, she sighed heavily before forcing herself from the door. Locking it securely, she headed back to the kitchen and the dishes that had to be done.
She should have known better, she told herself. She should have remembered her luck with men and called this one quits before she ever offered him dinner, before she ever took him up on his offer to check out the house.
She should have saved herself the trouble of getting the best kiss of her life, only to realize that Rick Grayson wanted nothing more than a one-night stand.
Funny, she hadn’t thought him the type. He was steady, a little irritable sometimes since his wife’s death two years before, but that was to be expected. Right?
He seemed like a family man. Upstanding. Honorable. Those were the qualities she’d always seen in him. It hurt like hell to realize she was wrong.
It hurt like hell to realize that she had been pinning her hopes on being right about him.
He fascinated her. He drew her like a moth to a flame, and she couldn’t help but want to touch all that incredible, masculine heat.
The letdown was incredibly disappointing. The memory of his kiss would haunt her. The hunger for him would take a long time to abate, she knew that for a fact. She had just gotten over that need from those two cold little dates last summer. Now this. How long would it take her to get over the kiss, the memory of his hands on her ass, his cock pressing tight and hot against her clit?
A little groan escaped her lips as she let her hand trail down her stomach to touch the sensitive mound between her thighs. Her fingertips pressed against the swollen knot of her clit as a heated surge of longing tore through her again.
It was going to be another long, lonely night, she thought. She hoped she had enough batteries to see her through. Because one thing was damned sure. She wasn’t going to sleep again until she managed to relieve the pressure h
e had built inside her.
Yep, this was just her luck, she thought, jerking her hand back and attacking the dishes. She was the one left cold and lonely. He was probably out finding someone else to fill his night.
The person filling his night wouldn’t be her. Not tonight. Not ever under those conditions. Just her luck. What was that saying? Unlucky in love . . .
Maybe she should take up gambling . . .
CHAPTER 3
TWO DAYS LATER Rick turned down Hannah’s street, his gaze brooding, his mind in turmoil, as he still fought to make sense of what had happened the other night.
Had it been so long since he’d had a woman that he didn’t know how to talk to one any longer? He’d spent the better part of the evening tongue-tied. He hadn’t been able to think, to speak, to make sense of anything but the need that had crawled through his system.
Now he was back again, doing something just as stupid as he’d done the other night. Perhaps more stupid.
He was dying for a woman, but he’d found in the past two nights that not just any woman was going to do for him.
He’d gone out both nights, his sole aim to find a woman for the night. And he could have had one. Hell, he could have had twenty if he’d wanted them. There had been no shortage of offers at the bars he’d gone to.
He’d had every intention, both nights, of leaving with a willing female and filling his night with hot, nasty sex.
Instead he’d left alone, gone home, and jacked off to the thought of one woman. It was scaring the hell out of him. All his self-preservation instincts were rioting even as he pulled into the drive behind her little sedan.
He didn’t have to force himself from the truck. Before the truck was even in gear he was throwing the door open.
Striding to the front door, he knocked firmly and waited. She was home. He could hear the television droning inside and her car was here.
Knocking again he frowned at the thought that maybe she just wasn’t opening the door for him. Not that he could blame her, he’d been an ass the other night. He would probably be an ass tonight.
He didn’t want a love affair with her. He didn’t want a relationship. He wanted this hunger for her out of his system, plain and simple. Something inside him warned him, though, that Hannah wasn’t nearly that easy.
The door opened as his hand lifted, his fingers curling to a fist to knock again.
Hannah stared back at him in irritation and he swore in that second his cock went spike hard, drawing up tight as his blood began to heat in his veins.
A woman shouldn’t be able to affect a man like this. To make his head fill with the memory of her kiss, the feel of her ass in his hands.
“What do you want, Sheriff?” She leaned against the door frame negligently, as though his being there didn’t affect her in the least.
He admired her for the attempt, though he saw right through it. Hard little nipples poked against the material of her tan T-shirt and the bra beneath it.
Her face had that intriguing little flush again and her gaze was darkening as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts and crossed her ankles. Clenched her thighs.
She was wet. She had to be wet. Hot and sweet, ready for him.
“I thought I’d check and see how you were doing.” He ran his hand over his hair as he glanced around the house. “Can I come in?”
She seemed to think about the request way too long before she pulled back from the door and opened it wider.
Stepping into the house, he turned back to her, and watched as she closed the door and turned back to him hesitantly.
He could move against her right now, he thought.
Before he could stop himself, he was doing just that. Within a second her back was against the door, her palms against his chest as his heart began to race out of control.
“What are you trying to pull on me, Rick?” She was breathless, hungry.
He could feel the hunger between them as hot and brutally destructive as wildfire.
“The hell if I know.” His fingers flexed at her waist as he held her and admitted to himself that he couldn’t figure it out. “You make me crazy, Hannah, do you know that?”
He watched as the lush waves of her hair rippled against her shoulders as she shook her head.
“Yeah, I can tell.” Her tone was sarcastic. “You’re so attentive, Rick.”
He grimaced as he fought not to lower his lips to hers.
“Look, I came to see if you wanted to go out.” He didn’t want to go anywhere except her bedroom. “Dinner. Maybe some dancing.”
Her eyes narrowed on him as her breasts moved hard and fast against his chest. He swore he could feel the imprint of her nipples through their clothes.
“Dinner and dancing?” she asked slowly. “Are you going to speak to me while we’re out? Are you going to act like we’re not together and that I’ve forced you unwillingly out in public?”
She was pushing him, tempting him. There was a challenge and defiance in her gaze that had every muscle in his body tightening as his dick demanded action.
Too long. It had been too long since he’d been with a woman, that was all there was to it. That was what was causing this. It wasn’t the woman, it couldn’t be the woman. It was the need for a woman and the fact that he had been intrigued by Hannah for years.
“I’ll talk.” He forced the words past his lips. “We’ll dance.”
He moved against her, pulled her closer, or at least tried to pull her closer. She was already as close to him as he could get her.
“Kiss me, Hannah.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers, forcing back the tremors that wanted to attack his body at the thought of tasting her again.
“Rick.” Her lips parted against his.
She didn’t say no, though. She might not have said yes, but she didn’t say no.
His lips parted over her, his head slanting as he settled into a kiss that began to burn through his senses.
Oh hell yes.
Her arms curled around his neck as she lifted to him, her lips moved under his, her tongue stroked against his.
Sweet, burning flames engulfed his senses as he let himself sink into the fire, into Hannah. He needed this. God help him, he needed this kiss, this touch, her fingers in his hair, her belly rubbing against his erection.
He needed the touch of her like he needed air to breathe. If he could just touch her for a little while, taste her enough to sate his senses, then maybe the long, lonely nights he had known for far too long would cease to torment him.
Maybe he could fill a few of those long lonely nights with Hannah.
“Rick.” She whispered his name against his lips. The caress of it had his eyes closing as he fought to keep from taking what he needed from her.
Pulling back, he rested his head against hers, his eyes opening as he let a self-mocking smile tug at his lips.
“Come out with me,” he whispered. “Or I may not be able to leave without making a fool of myself.”
He stroked up her side then down again, feeling the little shudder that worked through her at the caress.
She breathed out heavily. “Are you going to break my heart, Rick?” she asked then.
He breathed in slowly, almost regretfully. “Only if you let me, Hannah. Please don’t let me.”
She stared back at him for long moments before nodding and moving away from him.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She glanced back at him, her gaze somber, thoughtful. “I need to get ready.”
“I’ll wait right here,” he promised. He wasn’t going anywhere, not yet, not without her.
HOW DO YOU stop a man that you’re completely fascinated with from breaking your heart? Hannah wondered as dinner drew to a close and she sat back in her chair to enjoy the glass of wine she had ordered.
Rick sat across from her, his golden-brown gaze hooded, sensual, watching as she sipped at the wine.
He had talked. They’d discussed his s
on, Kent, and the camping trip the boy had taken with Rick’s sister Mona.
“Have you been camping this summer?” Rick asked as he sipped at his coffee and watched her with those dark, hungry eyes.
“Not yet.” Hannah shook her head. “My brothers haven’t decided yet if they can make the trip in from Dallas with their families.”
Camping was a family thing for Hannah. Her parents, three brothers, and their families usually managed to get away several times through the summer and fall months.
“Your brothers are doing well?” Two of her brothers were his age, the third was close enough that they had been friends when they lived in Alpine.
“Good.” She nodded. “They stay busy.”
“Don’t we all,” he breathed out roughly.
“They talk about you often.” She smiled then. “The older they get the more I get to hear about how wild they were. You’re usually included somehow.”
“Dragging their butts out of trouble,” he said, chuckling, the sound a dark rasp of pleasure against her senses.
And it had been true. He’d usually been the one covering for them or watching out for them.
“Are you ready to go?” He glanced at his watch before turning his gaze back to her. “I thought we’d go dancing for a while.”
There was a slight shift to his expression, a nuance that assured her that Rick wanted any excuse he could to get his hands on her.
He had warned her not to let him break her heart. She had a feeling that was a foregone conclusion.
“I’m ready.” She finished the last bit of wine as he rose from his chair and moved to her.
His hand settled on her lower back as they moved through the dining room. The feel of his fingers there, faintly caressing her through the thin material of her summer dress, sent the blood racing through her body and dampness spilling from her sex.
She was so damned wet now she should have made her excuses to go to the ladies’ room. But she’d already been twice. He’d catch on fast if she went again.
