Dating the Rebel

by Lisa Childs

  And now he knew how surprising.

  Even after having the waiter pack up their dessert and the chauffeur drive them to her apartment building, Grant expected to be stopped on the street—especially when the doorman eyed him suspiciously as he approached with her.

  “Il est en sécurité,” Miranda said in French.

  Grant chuckled as he translated to English what she’d said. “I’m safe?” He didn’t feel safe; he felt very uneasy, on edge, and it wasn’t just because he wanted her so badly.

  Or at least that was only part of it. He wanted her so badly and was worried that she was still going to toss him out. But at least he got past the doorman, who held open the door for him, however begrudgingly.

  Despite the man’s unwelcoming attitude, Grant slipped him a big bill. Maybe that would soften him up some.

  Had the wine and the food softened up Miranda?

  Was now the time for him to talk to her about Blair and Teo? He’d forgotten all about them last time he’d been alone with Miranda. This time he’d been reluctant to bring up anything that related to her business. Tabitha had told him that was why she was so stressed—because Teo’s interview had pissed off so many of their female members.

  Apparently everyone wanted a billionaire of her own—even Tabitha. Why didn’t Miranda?

  Why hadn’t she gone out with Teo herself?

  Oh, because of her rule...

  The one that meant if she ever signed Grant up for the service, she wouldn’t go out with him again. Maybe he shouldn’t have made this date so perfect...

  “I think you’re scared,” she said.

  He glanced up and realized that she stood inside the elevator, holding open the doors for him. He hadn’t even realized it had arrived; he’d been lost in thoughts...of her.

  He’d rather be lost in her, though. He stepped inside with her, but a pang of regret struck him that they were not alone. An older woman stood in the corner of the elevator; she held a small dog in her scrawny arms. The dog bristled and growled at Grant, and he wasn’t sure how long the woman would be able to hold on to it.

  Used to dealing with unpredictable creatures, Grant emitted a high-pitched whistle for only the dog to hear. It dropped his head down to the woman’s arms and stared at him balefully.

  “What did you do?” Miranda asked, her pale blue eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  She was young enough that she must have heard it. The dog’s owner was blissfully unaware.

  “And can you teach me how to do that?” Miranda continued.

  “Dogs love me,” Grant said. “You know they’re excellent judges of character.”

  She chuckled—that sexy, naughty chuckle that had his blood pressure rising like the elevator moving from one floor to the next. He wanted the old lady and the dog off it. He wanted Miranda alone. But when the elevator stopped on ten, she was the one who stepped through the doors. When he hesitated, she asked, “Are you coming?”

  “Soon...” he murmured—hopefully.

  A slight smile curved her lips, and she sighed. “And here I just expected you to show me to my door like the perfect gentleman would do on the perfect date.”

  She was teasing—he hoped.

  “You didn’t think the wine was too dry?” he asked. “The risotto too sticky?”

  Her smile widened as she walked down the hall. It was an older building with the wallpaper and carpet worn and in need of replacement. But it was clean and safe.

  “Nope,” she said. “It was all perfect.” She stopped at the second door from the end of the hall. “This is my place.” As she reached into her purse, her face flushed—almost as if she was embarrassed.

  “Can’t find your keys?” he asked.

  She shook her head as she pulled them out. The metal jangled as she unlocked and pushed open her door.

  Grant tensed, waiting for her to stop him there with the offer of another damn handshake like she’d done the morning after their incredible night. But before he could react, she reached out, grabbed his T-shirt in her hand and pulled him inside the apartment with her. She slammed the door and shoved him up against it.

  Almost giddy with relief, he laughed. This was the Miranda he loved—no, not loved. He loved nobody but his family and some really close friends. This was the Miranda who intrigued and excited him.

  She took the takeout container from his hands and put it on the table in the small foyer. Then she linked her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers. She kissed him like he’d wanted her to kiss him—with all the crazy passion she brought out in him.

  She nipped and nibbled at his lips until he opened his mouth again. But he wasn’t laughing anymore. He was panting for breath. His heart raced. He wanted her so damn badly.

  He cupped her butt, her sweet, curvy little butt, in his hands and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him, clinging to him, as he walked. He didn’t go far. The apartment was a tiny studio. A small kitchen stood on one side and a living room on the other with a bathroom door open off that. “Where’s the bed?” he asked, his voice gruff with the need gripping him.

  Her lips curved against his. “You need a bed?”

  “Don’t you have one?” he asked. “What? Do you sleep hanging upside down?”

  She laughed now and, unlocking her legs, she slid down his body, over his straining erection. “You really should be worried that you’re going to offend me if you want to be the perfect date.”

  He didn’t want to be the perfect date anymore. He just wanted her.

  “I never offended you before,” he said. “Even when I tried.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that...”

  A twinge of regret struck his madly pounding heart. Had he ever hurt her feelings before? He’d been harsh with her sometimes, out of concern for his sister, but she’d never seemed to let it faze her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.

  She tilted her head and studied his face, as if uncertain if she should believe him. “I’ll let you make it up to me,” she said. “If you can find the bed.”

  “Are you going to give me a hint?” he asked—because he wanted her so badly he was thinking about taking her up against the door where she’d slammed him. But he wasn’t sure his knees would hold him up; they were beginning to shake as desire overwhelmed him.

  She twirled around in the middle of the living room space, like she’d twirled on the beach that first night they’d gone out—the moon casting a glow like a spotlight all around her. She was so stunningly beautiful that he had to look away for a moment, as if she was so bright she might burn his eyes. Or his heart.

  That was when he noticed the wide armoire standing against the wall next to the bathroom door. Nothing sat on the hardwood floor in front of the antique piece of furniture, or maybe it had been purposely distressed to look as if the white paint was wearing off it. He opened the doors and pulled down the mattress of the hidden bed.

  She giggled now, as if she was as excited as he was. He turned toward her and arched a brow. He hadn’t ever heard her giggle like that. Only Blair’s flighty friends had giggled like that.

  She’d clasped a hand over her mouth, as if the sound had surprised her, too. Her eyes were wide above her hand, wide and bright.

  He closed the distance between them, leaned over and brushed his lips across the back of her hand. But that wasn’t where he really wanted to kiss her. Where he needed to kiss her.

  When she’d wound her legs around his torso, her skirt had ridden up—bunched nearly around her waist. He pushed it up the rest of the way and reached for her panties, sliding them down her bare legs. She stepped out of them, and when she parted her legs, he parted them wider and slid his fingers inside her. She was already wet, already hot, all ready for him.

  But he had to taste her...had wanted to
taste her again all night...

  He lifted her onto the edge of her mattress, then he knelt in front of her, like he’d wanted to kneel in front of her desk. Parting her legs wide, he moved his mouth over her mound. He kissed the short curls before stroking his tongue between her soft lips.

  She moaned and flopped back onto the mattress. And he pulled her legs over his shoulders and went down on her as if he was starving. He licked and lapped at her, teasing her with his tongue and his fingers until she came, screaming his name.

  His face damp with her desire and his perspiration, he pulled his shirt over his head. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and jerked them off with his boxers. He couldn’t wait to be inside her. Deep, deep inside her...

  His fingers shook as he ripped open the condom packet. But before he could roll it on, she took it from him. And before she rolled it, she took him deep in her mouth. Her tongue swirled around his cock, then she sucked him deeper. But it wasn’t deep enough...

  He wanted more.

  He pulled her chemise up. It must have had a built-in bra in it, because her breasts bounced free and naked. He tugged on one of the nipples with his lips before grazing it with his teeth.

  She clutched at his head and moaned. But then she pushed him back, just slightly, so she could roll that condom over him. Before he could reach for her, though, she crawled higher onto the bed and turned onto her hands and knees and pointed her sweet ass into the air. Then she reached between her legs and closed her hand around his cock, and she guided him into her vagina. A small scream escaped her lips as her inner muscles clutched at him, as if she was already coming again.

  The woman was so damn sensual. She ground her butt against his hips, thrusting back, so he began to move, driving deeper and deeper inside her. He used one arm on the bed to help support his weight while his other hand found one of her breasts. He stroked and squeezed it as he continued to thrust into her.

  Over and over again...

  Her muscles gripped him tightly before rippling with an orgasm. And once again she screamed his name. Then his body tensed, and he nearly screamed her name, too, as an orgasm shook him.

  It was so powerful. She was so powerful.

  He’d probably filled the condom, so he pulled out and hurried into the bathroom to clean up. When he returned, she lay limply on the mattress. She’d shimmied out of her skirt, so she was completely naked now. And completely spent...

  “Dessert?” he asked.

  She chuckled. “I think I might need a little time to recover.”

  He didn’t. His cock was already hardening again at just the sight of her. “How about the restaurant dessert?” he asked. He walked the short distance to the foyer, where she’d left the takeout container on the table. His bare foot struck her purse, knocking it over.

  A vibrator rolled out onto the hardwood floor. She really was insatiable. Now he understood why she’d acted embarrassed when reaching into her purse. So he suppressed the chuckle rising in his throat. And he bent down to pick it up and slide it back into the bag. The vibrator wasn’t the only thing that had fallen out, though. Her checkbook had, too, open to the ledger. He picked up that after the vibrator.

  And something sounding almost like that whistle he’d released for the yippy dog rent the quiet. A hiss of outrage...

  “What the hell are you doing?” she asked, her voice shaking with anger. “Why are you going through my stuff?”

  “I accidentally knocked over your purse,” he explained.

  “Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “Put down my checkbook. Stop going through my stuff!” And she hurled his stuff at him, flinging his jeans and his shirt toward him. She threw his shoe like a football in a straight line right toward his face. He ducked just in time, and it went over his head and struck the door instead. He stayed low, waiting for the next one to fly. But she must have kicked it because it just rolled across the floor toward him.

  “Get out!” she yelled at him. “Get out and don’t even ask. Even you must know that you failed this audition, too. I will never trust you again and I will never put any of my members in the position of having to trust you, either.”

  Members?

  He didn’t know what the hell she was talking about—then it dawned on him. Liaisons International...

  He’d forgotten all about telling her that he wanted to join her damn dating service. He opened his mouth to set her straight and to do what he’d really intended all along—to tell her not to mess with Blair and Teo. But before he could say anything, the bathroom door slammed behind her, and the lock turned.

  Water started running and a fan began to rattle.

  Even if he tried to shout through that closed door, she wasn’t going to listen to him implore her to leave Blair and Teo alone. In fact, she might mess with them just to spite him with as angry as she was.

  No. The smartest thing for him to do was get dressed and leave.

  And he wasn’t sure that he should ever come back...

  CHAPTER TEN

  SHE’D KNOWN HE was up to something. But what? Was he trying to figure out how much money she had? The balance in her check register must have disappointed the hell out of him if he was looking for a mark.

  Was that why he was so determined to join the dating service? Just like everyone else, he was looking for a billionaire.

  Maybe his gambling wasn’t going so well. Or he’d spent too much money starting the charter business with Blair.

  Or maybe all that money his sister thought he won gambling, he’d actually attained by other means, from women. What if he was a con artist?

  She’d been smart to not trust him. But she never should have let him touch her, either.

  And she damn well never should have touched him.

  Because even as angry as she was with him, she still wanted him, wanted him to fill the hollowness she’d never been aware of having before she’d had him as a lover.

  And that hollowness only grew the longer it had been since she’d seen him...

  It had also been too long since she’d seen his sister, so a week after throwing Grant out of her apartment, she met up with Blair for dinner. Unfortunately Blair had chosen the same rooftop restaurant where Miranda had watched the sun set with Grant.

  Blair swallowed a spoonful of crème brûlée and emitted a soft moan of pleasure. “It’s so good,” she said with a lustful sigh.

  Miranda pushed hers across the tablecloth toward her friend. “You can have mine, too.”

  “You’re not hungry?” Blair asked with surprise. She always teased Miranda that she didn’t know where she put everything she ate, since she was so petite.

  Miranda had choked down some of her salad, but she hadn’t had much of an appetite lately. At least not for food...

  Her appetites had changed after she’d had sex with Grant. Now he was all she craved. But that was crazy.

  She couldn’t trust him, so she shouldn’t want him anywhere in her life—not even in her bed. If only she could get him out of her mind as well.

  “It’s no wonder you don’t like this restaurant,” Blair said.

  Miranda tensed. Did she know? Had Grant told her after all?

  “Why’s that?” she asked.

  “Grant recommended it to me,” Blair said. “And you two do not like the same things at all—most especially each other.”

  Miranda laughed—like her friend obviously wanted her to—but it sounded hollow, as hollow as she felt. She and Grant had more in common than she’d ever realized. Sex...

  They were both very good at it.

  “I thought Tabitha would have recommended the place,” Miranda said. Since her sister had been the one who’d told Grant about it.

  “No. Grant’s been here a couple of times over the past couple of weeks.”

  “Do you know why?” Miranda asked.

&nb
sp; Blair shrugged. Then after swallowing the spoonful of crème brûlée she’d taken from Miranda’s bowl, she replied, “I have no idea, but that’s nothing new with my brother. I don’t think I’ll ever know what he’s really doing most of the time.”

  Miranda reached for her glass of sauvignon blanc and swirled the pale amber liquid around inside it. The sun streamed through the glass, casting rainbow patterns onto the tablecloth. She stared at the wine, trying to sound nonchalant, when she asked, “Do you still think he’s a Navy SEAL or some other kind of special forces?”

  Blair nodded. “Definitely. There’s so much of his life that I know nothing about...”

  “Too much,” Miranda agreed—because if Blair didn’t know it, there was no chance that she would ever learn about it, either.

  “If that’s what he’s doing, he can’t talk about it,” Blair said, coming to her brother’s defense. “Being part of something like that involves total discretion and secrecy.” She sighed. “So no wonder he’s single.”

  Still skeptical, Miranda snorted. “Yeah, that’s why. It has nothing to do with his gambling and carousing?”

  Blair chuckled. “Well, there’s that, too. A couple of weeks ago he came into the office looking like hell, like he hadn’t slept in days. Must’ve been a hell of a poker game.”

  Or the morning after the first night they’d had sex...

  She’d looked like hell after that sleepless night, too.

  “Do you think he’s been losing a lot?” Miranda wondered aloud. That would explain why he wanted to join Liaisons International—to find a rich significant other like his sister had.

  Blair laughed.

  And Miranda furrowed her brow, confused. “That’s funny?”

  “It is with how much shit he’s been buying lately. He just got a helicopter, for some reason.”

  “Won’t that help out with the business?”

  Blair nodded, but it was almost begrudging. “Yes, and when I come to visit you since there’s no airport close by, but I don’t know why he suddenly needed it.”

  To visit her?