No one is going to get close enough to touch you. Except me.
Damn if those roughly spoken words hadn’t done her in. That voice, like velvet; the strength behind it, like steel. She wanted his hands on her in the same insistent way his mouth was.
More room, she desperately wished they had more room. Room to move, to take as well as give, because her hunger was just as insatiable. She skimmed fingers over sinewy shoulders and along his neck, corded and tight as he continued his assault. His hair, thick and warm, slid through her fingers. His muffled moan as she raked her nails along his scalp vibrated all the way through her body. She wanted to touch all of him, make him moan like that for hours. She knew he could easily return the favor.
But she wasn’t willing to end this delicious, pulse-spiking kiss, not even to move the short distance to her bedroom. Or living room floor, for that matter. God, at the moment, any flat surface would do.
His mouth left hers, traveled along her jaw to her neck. Now the moan was hers as he ran his tongue down the line of her neck. “Better,” he managed, then pulled her earlobe between his teeth. “Incredibly better.”
She swore hotly at the sharp spike of desire his hoarse whisper sent through her. “Than what?” she gasped, leaning back, limp and breathless when he finally lifted his head.
Dear God, his lips were wet, his skin taut and flushed, and those dark eyes of his were gleaming. It was all she could do not to grab his head and drag him to her. It was a toss-up which body part she’d drag him to first.
“Than anything,” he said, drawing in a steadying breath. “I’ve wanted a taste of you, Tanzy. For what feels like my entire life.”
It was a good thing she was crammed into such a small space, or she’d have slithered to the floor in a puddle of need. “The things you say,” she said on a shivery little sigh.
Which got her flashed by that smile, that broad, teeth-baring, predatory grin that made her nipples stand up hard.
“Nothing you haven’t heard before, I’m sure,” he said.
It was like tossing a cup of cold water on her heated parts. Okay, so that would have taken several cups at the moment. “You might be surprised about that.”
“I’m nothing special, Tanzy. That’s all I was trying to say.”
Without even thinking, she reached out and stroked his face. She wasn’t sure who was surprised more by the gentle touch. “We’re all special, Riley.”
She’d never meant anything more, and yet she saw him write off the sentiment with barely a blink. It made her wonder just what went on behind that enigmatic face of his. Who was he, this man who’d vowed to protect her?
“I want you,” he said, and so directly, so honestly, it riled her parts up all over again. It touched her in other places as well, places she wasn’t used to feeling.
“And I can’t be the first man to feel the way I do about you. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
She laughed. “You couldn’t possibly be worried that—”
“Shh,” he said, quite serious as he pressed a finger against her lips. “I don’t mean in bed. I wasn’t referring to not being the first man to want your body. We’re men, we all want that.”
Her lips quirked. “I’ve been saying that for years.”
“But of the select few whose wildest dreams you chose to make come true . . . how many of them were still around a year later? A month even?”
How was it he could be so damn gentlemanly about her amorous past, and at the same time make her feel so defensive? “Do you really need an exact figure, or would a rough estimate do?”
Now he smiled, damn him. “I’m just telling you it’s a statistic I don’t care to be a part of.”
“If you’re worried that I’ll dissect us in print—”
“You wouldn’t do that.” He didn’t say it in fear, or as a threat. He was stating simple fact. Which actually was scarier, since it proved just how well he’d come to know her. How had he done that, when he was still such an enigma to her? Wasn’t she the one who paid attention to detail, to nuance?
“You’re right,” she said. “I wouldn’t. Not directly anyway.” What they did together would stay between them. Which was another revelation. For the first time she actually had a private life she wanted to keep private. “But I can’t make any promises about the rest.” He started to speak and she pressed her finger against his lips, then found she couldn’t help tracing the sensitive pad of skin along those sexy contours. She sighed when his expression turned fierce at her touch. “How in the hell did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Baaaa,” was all she said.
“Was it really so big a leap?”
“Sometimes it seems so. Other times . . . Besides, didn’t you just get done telling me that you didn’t consider yourself the sensitive-male type?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m not exactly a—”
She shushed him again. As much to have an excuse to continue touching his lips as anything else. Damn but they were so soft, yet she knew how firm they could be when they were on her. How they would take her, touch her, drive her right up the—
He leaned in then, took her face, kissed her lips fast and hard until her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest, then just as abruptly he let her go and swore beneath his breath.
She laughed a little self-consciously. “What was that for?”
He shook his head, then his frown turned to a little laugh of his own. “You have this habit of making me crazy, and for some reason beyond all comprehension, it makes me really want you at the same time. I can’t tell you how many times I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep from reaching for you.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever actually annoyed someone into desiring me before,” she said with a wry smile. “But I wasn’t even saying anything just now.”
He shook his head. “I know. Sometimes it’s just this look you get, like you want to—” He broke off, looked out the window.
She laughed, totally intrigued. “Oh come on, you say these incredibly direct, tantalizing things to me. Don’t get all quiet and controlled on me now.”
He turned his gaze back to her and made her throat go dry. Everything else it made wet.
“You look like you want to consume me. It’s incredibly . . .” He gave a brief laugh. “It makes me crazy in a whole different way. This time I did something about it.”
“Speaking of which . . . what are we going to do about this?”
“Which part of this? You fired me, remember?”
“It’s a moment I don’t think I’ll forget anytime soon.” She’d never forget the sound of his voice, vowing to protect her. It was ridiculous how that made her feel, the woman who had sworn to always protect herself.
And yet, she looked at him and felt . . . well, certainly not weak. But not entirely strong, either. The threat of needing him for more than the occasional multiple orgasm was petrifying enough. The idea that he might need her back, in the same way, was almost paralyzing. What if she let him down?
He tapped her temple, then traced a finger along her hairline. “Tell me what’s going on up here.” He smiled and it was so perfectly wicked she couldn’t help but smile back, despite the fact that she was in emotional free-fall.
“Or?” she asked.
“Or I’ll be forced to drag it out of you.”
Her smile grew. “It’s amazing how silent I can be.”
“And here I pegged you for the type to make some serious noise.” When her mouth dropped open, he took full advantage. Key word being full. His mouth closed over hers, his tongue sliding, taunting, teasing. His hand slid from her hair down her neck, until his fingers brushed along the curve of her breast, just missing the nipple, now throbbing for attention. The moan, when it came, was guttural and needy. And she didn’t care.
To his credit, he didn’t look smug as he lifted his head.
“I’ll get mine,” she said, surprised by how rough her voice was
. Damn but the man could kiss.
“I’m counting on that.”
She couldn’t help it, she laughed. She liked his hint of arrogance, liked the way he teased her so confidently. She liked the way he could seem annoyed even as his eyes screamed “Don’t make me take you.” She wanted to make him. And she wanted him to taunt her into doing it right back. God, this emotional involvement stuff was more complicated than she’d ever realized.
His finger slid beneath her chin, lifting her gaze back to his. “The wheels are spinning so fast I’m surprised there isn’t smoke curling out of your ears.”
She shot him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t plotting my next column.”
“You weren’t working.”
His continued display of how intimately he was aware of her was as stimulating as it was disconcerting. No one had ever paid such close attention to her. “So sure of yourself, are you?”
“You get a very specific look on your face when you’re working.”
“And you know this how? When have you seen me work?” Her mouth dropped open. “You said my rooms at Millicent’s weren’t bugged.”
Was that a slight flush coloring his cheeks? “You didn’t always work in your rooms,” he muttered.
“And you watched me?” Somehow the indignation she should feel, the sense of violation of her personal space, didn’t happen. Instead, dammit, she was actually a little turned on by the idea. She laughed, surprising them both. “God, watching me type. Talk about boring assignments.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“And I suppose it goes without saying you’ve had better. Jobs where you actually got to be yourself, even.”
Instead of smiling, or tossing it right back at her, he frowned. She wondered if she’d ever be able to read him as well as he apparently read her. She wanted to, she realized. Getting more complicated by the minute, Tanz.
“I’ve had all kinds of jobs, but I don’t do this,” he stated flatly. “I want you to know that.”
“This?”
“I’ve never met anyone who made me want to compromise my—” He broke off, swore. “Just ask my father. He thinks nothing of mixing business with pleasure.”
She turned his face to hers. “Riley, I don’t want you to beat yourself up about this. I didn’t mean for this to happen any more than you did.”
“I’m not. I just needed you to know. I’m not sorry, I’m not second-guessing. We’re in it now and I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
He just blew her away when he did that, up and said things, so flat out and direct. “If you want me to talk to your dad, explain—” His look of horror had her torn between laughing and wanting to console him. “That bad, huh?”
“No, it’s not that. Finn is . . . well, he’s quite the lad, always has been. Very charming rogue, or so the ladies seem to think. It’s, well, it’s a little tricky because I have a history of haranguing him about this very thing and—”
“And then you go and get tangled up with me.”
He eyed her steadily. “We’re getting tangled up in each other. And I’ll handle my father.”
“Well, if you’re worried about telling him about the job, don’t be. There is no way I’m hiring anyone else. I want you to do it.”
“Oh, I plan to,” he said, his tone unequivocal.
“Then you will be paid for services rendered,” she stated just as evenly. When he looked at her sharply, she sent it right back. “Please tell me your opinion of me is not so low that you actually thought I meant to include sex—”
“If I had a low opinion of you, we wouldn’t be sitting in my truck, in the rain, discussing, well, anything. As for the other, you will not retain any of my services for pay. I’ll not be doing this as a job, but because I have a personal stake in wanting to see you safe. Unlike my da, I do not get involved with clients. And I won’t start now. We may not be flush, but we won’t lose the business, such as it is, without your account.”
She simply stared at him, thoroughly enjoying the heated tirade, almost as much as the tiniest hint of brogue that had crept in once he’d gotten rolling. “Is Finn first generation, or were you born there as well?”
“What?”
She smiled, enjoying flustering him. “Ireland. Were you born there?”
“Here. My parents were born there. Came here as children. Met at a church social.”
“Born in Ireland, but met a continent away.” She sighed. “How poetic.”
He just looked at her. “A romantic, are you?”
She narrowed her gaze. “Why does that always shock people? You know, I’m beginning to think baring my soul to millions has seriously warped my image.” She smiled impishly. “Can’t imagine how that happened.” He did it again. Just kissed her. Only this time he didn’t let her go so quickly. This kiss was gentler, sweeter, and therefore far more dangerous.
“What you do to me, Tanzy,” he murmured, his eyes searching hers.
It left her feeling needy, achy, mixed up, and confused. She didn’t mind the first two. But the latter two she’d spent a lifetime avoiding. For God’s sake, she’d made a profession out of keeping every thought, emotion, and reaction to said emotion explained, categorized, and compartmentalized. Why go and screw all that up now?
She looked right back into Riley’s face, a face she didn’t think she’d ever tire of looking at, and realized why. Because she was already screwed.
“The rest of the world might have a warped view of the real you, but I could give a flat damn,” Riley said, almost fiercely. “I like the person you are, and I respect you even more than I want you,” he said, then pulled her more tightly into his lap. “You can’t possibly know how amazing that is, especially at this moment.”
She felt him, so hard, nudging at her. “Oh, I—” She had to stop, wet her lips, swallow, or try to. “I think I have an idea.”
“Do you, Tanzy? Do you have any idea how difficult this is? I don’t do this. If you want the God’s honest truth, we’re a lot alike, you and me. I enjoy my life, my friends, the occasional romp. But I don’t get involved. With clients, with anyone. It’s just . . . easier. So I’ve never . . . fallen. And so damn hard, so fast.” He said the latter more to himself than to her, even shook his head as if still trying to wrap his mind around what was happening to him.
She could have told him they had that in common, too. If she could have found her voice through the lump in her throat, that is.
“Am I scaring the hell out of you?” He laughed a little. “Because I’m scaring the hell out of me.”
She nodded.
“But we are involved, you and I,” he went on. “I don’t see anyone else, think of anyone else.”
“Me, either.” And it surprised her, how truthful a statement that was. And it had nothing to do with her solitary singleness. “Not even when I thought you were a sheep.”
He sighed. “Haven’t we figured out by now that we’re a little of each? Both of us?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I didn’t—I never meant it as an insult. I just . . .” She took a breath. God, this was hard. But he’d certainly laid it all out there. It was only fair that she do the same. “It’s easier for me. To separate things out.”
“Easier how? To avoid feeling anything?”
Stung, she shifted away from him, but his arms came around her, kept her close. One thing she was learning very quickly about Riley, he didn’t allow retreat. And while she wanted to resent it, she also found she admired it. And refused to back down from the challenge of it. “You said yourself you don’t get involved because it’s easier. But that doesn’t mean I close myself off entirely. I’ll bet you don’t, either. I feel a great many things, deep things, for a great many people.”
“Just not men.”
“Men, as in lovers?” she said, refusing to shrink from this. “You’re right about that. I haven’t seen the point in opening myself up to that kind of pain.”
“Because you
got hurt?”
“In a roundabout way, I suppose you could say that. I prefer to think of it as learning from others’ mistakes.”
“The others being?”
“My parents, although just the term credits them with far more than they deserve.”
She didn’t know what kind of reaction she’d expected, but she wasn’t prepared for the thoughtful silence that followed. It was almost as tantalizing as the things he said to her, this insatiable curiosity he’d roused in her. Curiosity to know his every thought, to understand why he believed this or that, to involve herself in who he was. To let him matter.
“I understand,” he said finally. And she believed, without any further explanation necessary, that he did. “Maybe more than I’m comfortable admitting.”
“I don’t think we’re merely a product of those who gave birth to us,” she said into the suddenly serious silence. “I believe we all have choices to make, some control over our lives and how we live them.”
“I’ve always felt the same.” He rolled his eyes. “And yet, here I am, living a life not of my choosing.”
Her gaze narrowed in surprise. “What life would you choose instead?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he asked a question of his own. “Why me?”
“What?”
“This,” he said, motioning with his chin to the clinch they were presently in. “Us. The two who don’t get involved, getting involved. Why me? We’ve determined this isn’t going to be just about sex.”
She grinned. “It’s going to be a little bit about sex.”
He grinned back, but it faded as he traced a finger down the side of her face. “But it’s going to be about a whole lot more. If you’ll let it.”
“I’d like it to be,” she said, her voice suddenly gone shaky.
“So?” he asked. “Why me?”
How did she answer that? “I’m usually pretty self-sufficient,” she began. “And when I need help, I have people to turn to. Yet, I kept finding myself wanting to turn to you. Your quiet confidence called to me. You listen, you think things through, you don’t leap before you look. I guess somehow, when I wasn’t looking, I began to trust you, lean on you.” She shook her head, laughed a little at herself. “And even in those awful suits and Mr. Magoo glasses, your voice made me totally hot.”
The Big Bad Wolf Tells All Page 20