by Cathryn Fox
I dress, and before I go, I spray-foam the spot where I’m certain the mice are getting in. An hour later, after a walk through my century-old home, my phone rings, and when I see it’s my father calling, I toss it onto the passenger seat. I’m in no mood for a lecture tonight.
Are you sure you know what you’re doing?
Have you secured the land?
Do you really think we need to spend this kind of money when we already have a working processing plant?
I swear to God, the man is just waiting for me to fail. But I won’t. I don’t need to be a hard-core asshole, with little regard for the people, to make this work and see this through to completion. I drive past the water, and the sign outside the Old Fish Factory Restaurant had been tampered with. Again. Earlier today, the sign read Whole Clams for sale, Monday to Friday. Now, apparently, they have Clam Whores for sale Monday to Fiday. I chuckle and make a note to ask the guys if they’d like a few clam whores before bed. I guess there could be worse things the kids around here could do. It does make me wonder if it was kids that egged Gram’s place.
I park in Gram’s driveway and find the land yacht in the parking space at the rear of the house. The B&B is quiet when I enter, except for the shooting noises coming from Cody’s TV in his room. I assume he’s playing his favorite first-person shooter game. I cut a slice of cheese and climb the stairs, stopping outside Kira’s door. I take a couple of deep breaths to pull myself together then rap on her door, but it’s not shut tight and inches open from the pressure of my knock. Honest to God, the prospect of seeing her again—preferably in her T-shirt—is messing with me in inexplicable ways. And that’s just fucked-up, considering I vowed to keep my hands to myself.
Chapter Nine
Kira
“Jesus wept, Moses crept, and Adam came on crutches.”
“Ah, what?” Nate asks from the doorway.
I roll at the sound of his voice, but he’s far too slow to react. Once again, I catch him staring at my ass. His head lifts slowly, his heated gaze moving to my face. This afternoon, when his touch went from hot to cold in seconds flat, I saw his uncertainty about this insane pull between us, how he didn’t really want to act on it.
Good. Because I don’t, either.
Liar.
Honestly, though, when Jason came through the door, it snapped us both back to reality. The way Nate jumped away from me, I thought for a minute we were playing the party game hot potato, and I was the potato.
Working to keep things casual, since we do have to live under the same roof, I say, “You must not be from around these parts.” He offers me a strange look, one that suggest I could be losing my mind, as one hand goes into his pocket and he rocks on his feet. “I’m channeling Gram. That’s what she used to say when she was frustrated,” I explain.
“Right. I think I heard Sam say that once. But what I’m really wondering is what are you doing on the floor, messing with the dials.”
I look at the dials and frown. “The pilot went out.”
“Must have been from the power flickering. Need some help?”
“Of course not. I enjoy being down here messing with the buttons and trying to remember how you did it. Maybe any minute now I’ll even blow myself up.”
He puts something on the mantle, drops to the floor, and lies sideways facing me. He crooks his elbow and supports his head in his palm as his eyes move over my face. “You okay?”
I take a breath and let it out slowly. “I might need a Starbucks. Mocha latte, to be specific.”
“Closest one is a good forty-five minutes away.” He checks his watch. “We might still have time if we hurry.”
“No, I’m good. It’s cold and the roads aren’t great.”
He gestures toward the dials. “Do you want to take notes. It can be hard to remember the steps.”
“No, I can remember them.” Heck, if he knew how many numbers and computations I have stored in my brain, it might explode his. He gives me a skeptical look, and I defend myself. “I was just preoccupied last time.” Yeah, with staring at his hot ass and imaging all the dirty things I want to do with his naked body.
“With what?” he asks, and I note the genuine curiosity in his eye.
“Thinking about my near-death experiences,” I fib. I’m not a liar, but no way am I about to tell him the truth.
Oh, Nate, I was thinking about all the ways we could have sex.
Kira, when I was lighting this fire, all I could think of was lighting yours instead.
Then what are we waiting for?
Why don’t you bend over that bed for me, let me see your hot—
He laughs softly, and as my thoughts come crashing back, I wonder why I was using a Southern belle accent in that internal dialogue.
“You do tend to drift off,” he says.
“I know. Sorry.”
I pucker my lips, and his heated eyes drop to them. Oh no, we’re not doing this again. No matter how much I might want to kiss him. I’m a smart girl, a rejection is a rejection, and I’m not about to set myself up for it again.
“It’s nothing to be sorry about. I think it’s endearing,” he says, his voice a low murmur that heats my body from simmer to inferno. Maybe I won’t need to light the fire, after all.
“Endearing?” I give a very unladylike snort.
“It’s a sign of intelligence.” He puts his hand on the floor between us, and his forearm brushes against my breast. The movement might have been innocent, but my swelling nipples didn’t get the memo. Great. Just great.
“You’re making that up.”
“Nope, I’m not. An intelligent brain is always on overload.”
That’s not the only thing that’s always on overload. When I’m around him, anyway.
“I wish you could have told my fifth-grade teacher that,” I say. “She used to drag my desk up next to hers so I couldn’t stare out the window.”
“That was mean.”
“It’s not just kids who are mean to someone who’s a little different.”
His lids fall slowly as he nods in agreement, and from what I know of his brothers, I understand he was a victim of bullying, too. But perhaps that’s why he is the way he is today. A take-charge protector.
His focus drops to my mouth again, and my pulse leaps. For a brief second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but he rolls onto his stomach and says, “There are plenty of shitty adults, too. I’m sorry you had to deal with them.”
I mimic his movement so I’m lying face down, and the right side of my body presses again his left. A mistake. As his heat seeps under my skin, I practically vibrate with want. “Okay,” he begins, and moves the ignitor button. I stare at his hands, his deft fingers, but have a hard time concentrating on what he’s saying as we both lie on the floor, everything about this man awaking my nerve endings.
He fiddles with the buttons, then jumps up and flicks the switch on. Flames lick across the glass and instantly heat my face.
“There you go,” he says. “Fixed.”
“Thanks.”
“Not a problem.”
I push to my knees, and he takes my hand to help me up. “Wait, why were you at my door?”
He produces a piece of cheese he placed on the mantle before he dropped down next to me. “I wanted to reset the trap.”
“Right,” I say and cringe. “Ninja mouse must die.”
Nate steps past me and heads to the bathroom. I jump to my bed, suddenly needing my feet off the floor, and sit cross-legged. At least this time I’m wearing pajama pants with my T-shirt. The water runs for a second, and Nate walks back into my room.
“It’s all set. Like I said, if you hear it go off, come and get me. I’m a light sleeper, so just knock. If I don’t hear you, give me a shake.”
“Thanks, I will.” I mean every word of it. No way am I goin
g in there if the trap releases. I hug my blankets to me and fight down an uneasy shiver. Nate walks to the door, his gait slow, and I get the sense he’s prolonging his exit because he has something on his mind. I wait a second, but when he doesn’t say anything I say, “Good night.”
“Night,” he responds and doesn’t look back at me. Instead he grips the door handle and pulls my door shut. I flop back on the bed, my mind and body too worked up to sleep. I tug my iPad from my nightstand and open it. I work on a few mathematical computations, then switch to a novel. I need to quiet my mind, not wake it up with work.
I bring up a hot little novel that I’d never be caught dead reading anywhere else but in the privacy of my own room and start reading. After a couple of chapters, I drop the iPad.
Okay, that’s not helping, either.
The hot sex scenes are killing me. Maybe I should read the dictionary. I turn the light out, hunker down in bed, and will sleep to come. My body relaxes, my breathing slows, and seconds before I’m about to drift off, a clanking sound cuts through the quiet of the night.
Oh God, no.
I listen a little longer, but it’s hard to hear over my rapid-fire breathing. Unable to check the trap myself, I quietly open my door, tiptoe to Nate’s room, and knock softly.
“Nate,” I say, then rap again.
I try the knob, find it unlocked, and let myself in. It doesn’t feel right slipping into his room like this, while he’s asleep in bed, unaware of my presence. From the crack in the curtain and the light slanting on his wall, I make out his outline, and reach for his leg. I give it a squeeze, and he moans in his sleep. Oh Lord, please let that be his leg I just groped.
“Nate,” I say again.
“Mmm…”
He makes a few more noises, and I search his face, noting the tightness of his jaw. My God, if I didn’t know better, I’d say the guy was having a sex dream. Then again, I don’t know better.
Should I let him finish?
“Nate,” I whisper, feeling all kinds of wrong listening to his sex sounds like some perv.
In one smooth movement, he sits up, puts his feet on the floor, spreads his thighs and pulls me in between them. It’s such a typical macho guy move all my girly parts begin to flutter. Big hands slide around my ass and knead gently as he presses his mouth to the exposed skin between my pajama pants and top. He mumbles something incoherent, but I can’t focus on that, not when his hot lips are branding my skin, sending shivers of erotic need through me. A moan I have no control over climbs from my throat, and Nate goes still.
Under the light spilling in from the streetlamp, I examine his face. He blinks himself awake and glances up at me.
“Kira,” he whispers, his sleepy voice rough and hoarse like he’s eaten the nails he’d purchased for the back deck.
“Yeah,” I say on a breathless whisper.
He clears his throat. “You’re…in my room.”
“I am.”
“I thought…” He swallows. Hard.
“I think you were dreaming.”
“Fuck, man.” One hand stays on my ass as he grips his hair and slowly shakes his head. Expression pained, he says, “I’m fighting a losing battle, when it comes to you.”
“Losing battle?” I ask, my synapses not firing properly as he imprints my ass with his hot, thick fingers. One working brain cell informs me he’s not dragging his hand away. More importantly. I’m not asking him to.
“Why are you here?”
“I think…think we caught the mouse.” I force the words out, but it’s getting harder and harder to talk.
His hand shifts, and his fingers close around my hips, tighten, like he’s about to push me away to go check on the trap. Instead, he keeps a hold on me and stands, his erection growing and pressing into my stomach. Oh my. The air around us charges with unstable electricity, and the bed behind him practically vibrates. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if it started to levitate.
Desire weights my eyelids, and a pleasurable tingle slides over my skin.
“I want you,” he murmurs.
I tip my face up, the air in my lungs seizing.
He wants me.
“Nate—”
“Yesterday I pushed you away.” His fingers tighten on my hips, and an agonized sound rattles in his throat. “This isn’t right between us. I can’t offer more than sex, and didn’t want to start something with you I can’t finish. I’m not the guy for you, but fuck, Kira, I’ve wanted you from the first time I set eyes on you.”
“Same,” I admit honestly. “The second I saw you in the street, I haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about you. We’re fighting the same battle.”
A simmering grin curls up his lips. “So that’s where your mind’s been going.” He pushes my hair from my face, dragging his knuckles over my scalding cheek as I envision them being dragged over a different part of my body. He straightens a little, his face serious. “You need to know that I don’t do relationships, and you deserve a guy who’s going to do right by you. I’m not that guy, Kira. You can’t for one second think I am.”
“I’m not the girl you think I am, Nate. Relationships aren’t practical in my world. I’m not asking for more, believe me.”
Skeptical eyes move over my face, but he relaxes and says, “You don’t strike me as a woman who moves fast, and we’re kind of doing exactly that.”
“Fast is good,” I say quickly, not wanting to do or say anything to make him change his mind. I’ve never experienced such blatant lust, rooted deep in my brain. This man has woken up a dormant part of my body, and I’m certain this is a need, not a want. Once I do this, I’ll be able to get my academic brain back on more important matters. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. But the simple truth is, I want this.
I want him.
He angles his head, his lips so close to mine. I can almost taste his minty toothpaste. His soft knuckles send shivers through me as he runs them over my arm. “Fast isn’t good when you’re innocent,” he whispers, his tender voice a low, soft whisper.
My heart melts at his concern for me. Beneath it all, this man is so damn sweet, and if I know what’s good for me, I’ll run the other way. But his tenderness is messing with me, making me wonder if I can separate the physical from the emotional if we crawl between his sheets. Even if I wanted to bolt, I’m not sure I can force my legs to carry me out of this room.
“I’m not that innocent. I’ve had sex before.” A moment of silence, then he exhales a relieved breath. I’m not sure why my virginity—or lack thereof—is such a big deal to him, but it is admirable that he didn’t want to take it from me. “You’re not my first,” I assure him.
“Good, because your first should be with someone special. Someone you love.” His hot gaze moves over my mouth, and I wet my bottom lip, preparing it for him.
“He wasn’t special, and I didn’t love him, and the whole thing was awful. I told you I was inexperienced, because I…I guess…I don’t know why. I was nervous. Worried I’d botch it like I did last time. Then how would I be able to look at you come morning, let alone continue to cohabitate?” I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and glance down. Ribbons of worry wrap around me, and my cheeks flush with heat. “I don’t think I’m very good at this.”
Why am I telling him all this?
He cups my chin, lifts it until our eyes meet. His brow furrows, and everything in his look suggests that I’m insane to worry, and that sex between us is going to be phenomenal.
“You just haven’t been with the right guy,” he says, and he’s not being arrogant or egotistical, he’s just being honest.
Confident.
Damned if I don’t like a man who’s sure of himself.
“Are you the right guy?” I ask, his certainty cocooning my worries.
“I want to rock your world, Kira. If you’ll let m
e.”
I relax into him, my entire body shuddering, as those billowing ribbons of nervousness flutter away.
“Rock away, Nate.”
He hesitates for a second, his brow furrowed as he looks over my shoulders toward his open door. “We probably shouldn’t let the others know. They might think of you as a sister, but I sure as hell don’t, and it could make things uncomfortable around here. I don’t want them to think I’m taking advantage of you or this situation.”
“Our secret,” I say. “And in no way do I think about you as a brother. The others, yes, but not you, Nate. Never you.”
“Good.”
Touch me already.
He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, and I press my fingers to his lips. “No more questions. This is a secret, sex only, no-expectation hookup.”
“We keep it casual,” he adds.
“Yes, casual.”
“Thank God. Formal sex sucks.” He slides his hand down my back, and I shiver at the heat of his touch. “I hate wearing a tux.”
I chuckle at that. “Casual sex with a timeline. I leave here next month, and you’ll be shipping off to the next seasonal spot.”
“About that—”
“You will be leaving, right?”
“Yes, but—”
I close my mouth over his, and his words turn to a moan, whatever he was about to say long forgotten. His hand goes around my head, and his fingers grip my neck as he deepens the kiss and slides his tongue into my mouth. The soft blade teases me, fills me with a new kind of hunger.
Holy Mother of Hotness, the man can kiss.
His mouth moves to my ear, and his heat trickles through me when he whispers, “Cupcakes. I knew it.” I have no idea what he’s going on about, and I’m not about to ask and interrupt all the delicious things he’s doing to me. Warm fingers slide down my spine, and he picks me up. I wrap my legs around him, as he closes his door. A hot ball of need shoots through me at the sound of the lock clicking in place.
He walks me back to the bed, sets me on it, and pulls himself up to his full height. His gaze moves over me, and in turn, I examine him, take in the hungry look on his face, the ridges on his stomach, the grooves of his obliques, which guide my eyes down to his erection, fully visible through his boxers. Everything about him is decadent, and I’m certain I won the man lottery. I wet my mouth and reach for him with shaky hands. I’ve never been so eager to touch anyone.
