Naked Games

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Naked Games Page 7

by Anne Rainey


  A waiter came over and asked if they wanted another drink. They both declined. After he moved to the next table, Gracie said, “So, this thing is merely a fling between you and Dean? There’s nothing else?”

  “I don’t know.” Geez, that sounded lame. “But I’d like to find out. Do you think I’m terrible for wanting to go home with him so soon?”

  Gracie reached over and took her hand in one of hers. “Of course not. I know all about attraction at first sight, believe me. But what about the trust thing? Doesn’t it bother you?”

  “Heck, yeah, it does, but I’m determined to prove him wrong on that score.” Catherine squeezed her sister’s hand. “For the remainder of my visit I plan to whittle down his defenses until he cries uncle.”

  Gracie laughed. “Well, my money’s definitely on you.”

  Catherine was about to say something else, but Dean and Wade came back to the table, effectively ending the conversation. She looked at them. Neither man was smiling, but they weren’t sporting black eyes either. “Everything okay?”

  A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitched. “Dandy.”

  His attitude left Catherine more uncertain than ever. Had he changed his mind about her?

  Dean reached out and took her hand in his and leaned close. “Ready to go?”

  Apparently not, Catherine thought as she allowed Dean to help her off the stool. Like the perfect gentleman, he even helped her into her coat. She noticed Wade’s arm wrapped around Gracie’s shoulders, but when she looked into his eyes, eyes so like Dean’s, he was staring at her with concern. Warmth filled her. He cared about her. Like a brother might care for a sister. Catherine suddenly felt blessed to have him in her corner. She smiled in appreciation, and he gave her a wink. When Catherine saw the worry in Gracie’s expression, though, she went to her and hugged her close. “I’m going to be fine. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

  Gracie nodded, and a small smile slipped across her face. “You and I have plans, remember?”

  Catherine’s eyes lit up at the reminder. “How could I forget? I’ve been dying to see that 3-D movie since they started advertising it.”

  Gracie clapped her hands in front of her. “And we’re going to Genji’s restaurant for dinner afterward. I love their yum-yum sauce. I’m buying!”

  “Ha!” Catherine snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

  Dean tugged on her hand, and Catherine got the hint. He was anxious to leave. Anxious to be alone with her.

  Her heart sped up at the notion.

  After grabbing her purse and saying their good-byes, Catherine let Dean practically drag her out of the nightclub. When they reached his red four-wheel-drive truck, he unlocked it and held the door open for her. She took a chance and looked into his eyes. The heat she witnessed turned her on like nothing else, but it also sent a bolt of fear through her.

  “Here, let me help,” Dean murmured as he reached down and took hold of her waist to lift her onto the seat.

  Catherine could feel the heat of his touch clear through her dress. “Thanks.”

  His smile was pure sin. “Seat belt,” he gently ordered before slamming the door shut.

  Once they were on their way, Catherine decided to lay it all out on the line. “I’m not sure what I’m doing here,” she admitted. “I’m not even sure why I agreed to go back to your place with you.”

  He reached across the middle console and took hold of her hand. “Aren’t you?”

  She shook her head and looked out the windshield. The streetlights seemed to be going by way too fast. The man was definitely in a hurry. “I won’t deny that I want you,” she softly replied. “But to go home with you when I don’t even really know you. I feel like I’m easy or something. Even though I’m not,” she rushed to reassure. “I mean, I never go home with a man on the first date. Not to imply that what we had tonight was a date exactly, it’s just that—”

  “Catherine,” Dean said, stopping the speeding race car of her mouth. “It’s okay. I don’t think you’re easy. In fact, it’s not exactly my MO to take a woman home so fast either.” He spared her a look, one that she couldn’t quite read in the darkness. “How about we just agree to share a nightcap and see what happens from there. Okay?”

  She cocked her head, wishing she could see him clearer. “Why are you so sweet one minute and the next you’re looking at me as if I’m the bogeyman? Or in my case, the bogey-woman.” She clutched her purse tighter. “I just can’t figure you out.”

  He chuckled. “First, there’s no such thing as the bogey-woman. Even if there were, I don’t think you’d resemble her in any way. You’re way too pretty to be something so nasty. Second, I can’t help the way I feel. I’m into you, sweetheart. My head is telling me it’s a bad idea, that I shouldn’t trust you. Thing is, my head isn’t running the show right now.”

  Catherine both hated and loved Dean’s brutal honesty. One thing for sure, she’d never have to wonder if he truly meant what he said. “And my head is telling me I should go back to my hotel room,” she blurted out, giving him her own dose of candor. “To go to sleep like the good girl I was raised to be.”

  Dean chuckled. “How about we let the bad girl in you decide how the evening should end?”

  Considering she wasn’t even sure she had a bad girl side, Catherine had to give that some thought. Or tried to. With Dean stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, Catherine kept getting sidetracked with ideas of how good that thumb would feel on other parts of her body. In the end, Catherine decided it was high time her nearly nonexistent inner bad girl got to come out and play. “Your house,” she finally said, throwing caution to the wind for the first time in her life.

  She heard Dean curse before squeezing her hand gently. “You won’t regret it, I promise you.”

  Catherine hoped that was true, but she had a terrible feeling that nothing would be the same once the night was through.

  10

  Dean shut the front door behind her, and the sound echoed in the dark room. Every nerve in her body started a riot. She nearly leaped out of her skin when he flipped a switch next to the door and light flooded the room.

  “Don’t be so skittish,” he murmured as he helped her off with her coat. “I’m not the big bad wolf.” After he placed her coat on a chair by the door, he held out his hands. “See? No claws.”

  She smiled as his teasing managed to relax her a fraction. “Sorry, but the nervousness seems to be here to stay.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Then how about something to relax you? I make a mean hot chocolate.”

  She tossed her purse on top of her coat. “I don’t know a single woman on the planet who would pass that up.”

  “Hmm, chocolate cake earlier and now hot chocolate.” He winked. “I’m beginning to see how to get around your defenses, Miss Michaels.”

  His use of the word Miss sent a shiver down her spine. “Ew, don’t say Miss. Makes me think of that guy at the club tonight.”

  He turned toward the kitchen. “Yeah, he was a real pain in the ass.”

  Catherine pulled out a chair at the table and sat. “Actually, I had noticed him earlier. He’d been watching me. It felt weird.”

  Dean took down two mugs and placed them on the counter. Catherine became pleasantly distracted by the way his trousers molded to his buttocks and thighs, but the look he shot her over his shoulder sent her dirty mind into hiding. She frowned. “What?”

  “Why didn’t you say anything about that before?”

  “Uh, first off, it’s not a crime to look at a woman, Dean. Second, you don’t need to fight off unwanted suitors for me.”

  Dean shook his head as he went to another cupboard and grabbed a can of hot chocolate mix. “I should’ve kicked his ass anyway. As it was, I wanted to kick his ass. I was just trying not to make a scene your first night out.”

  She laughed. “I appreciate your restraint, truly.”

  As he went about making their drinks, Catherine went back to watchi
ng him move around the kitchen. Damn, the man was built. Every hard inch of him made her mouth water. As gorgeous as he was, Catherine couldn’t forget the fact that he didn’t trust her. Of course, now that they’d spent some time together, maybe he’d changed his mind. There was one surefire way to find out. Ask him. The coward in her couldn’t bring herself to form the question. She didn’t want to ruin the moment by bringing tedious things like reality into it.

  As he placed a steaming cup in front of her, Catherine hummed her approval. “This looks yummy.”

  Dean handed her a spoon. “Do you want marshmallows?”

  Catherine quirked a brow. “Do you have the mini ones?”

  He wagged his eyebrows, and Catherine nearly melted on the spot. “Yep,” he replied. “Whenever Deanna comes over she insists on them.”

  He went to grab them, and Catherine couldn’t help but wonder about Dean’s relationship with his twin. “What’s it like? Being a twin, I mean.”

  He placed a bag on the table between them, then sat down with his own cup. “I guess like any other brother and sister, only we share the same birthday.”

  Catherine helped herself to the marshmallows. “Really? There isn’t a deeper connection or anything?”

  She watched Dean plop several into his own mug and stir before answering. “I guess there is a deeper connection, yeah. There have been times over the years when we’ve known when the other was in trouble. Like a few months back, when Deanna was held at gunpoint. I could feel something was wrong.” He shrugged. “It sounds strange, I know, but I could feel her fear.”

  Catherine had taken a small sip of her drink, but the pain in Dean’s voice caught all her attention. She didn’t like the idea of him hurting. “From what I heard, Deanna is lucky to be alive.” Catherine remembered Gracie telling her about the horrifying event. Deanna had been hired for a remodeling job, but the client had turned out to be a drug dealer. When a teenage boy had overdosed, the boy’s distraught father had shown up with a gun to exact his revenge. Deanna had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Dean raked a hand through his hair. “Waiting on Jonas to disarm the guy were easily some of the longest minutes of my life.”

  Catherine reached across the table and covered his hand with her own. “I can’t imagine. You must have felt so helpless.”

  Dean’s gaze went to their hands, and Catherine couldn’t tell what he was thinking. As he slowly turned his hand over and entwined his fingers with hers, Catherine’s heart skipped a beat. “It’s something I never want to repeat,” he whispered. “That’s for damn sure.”

  She took another sip of her hot chocolate and moaned at the creamy flavor. “This is delicious, by the way. You could sell it and make a fortune.”

  He chuckled and picked up his own, then took a long drink. God, even watching his throat work was sexy. After he placed his mug back on the table, his gaze went to hers. “Enough about the chocolate. I want to know more about you.”

  Catherine started to pull her hand away, but he held on tighter. When their gazes connected, Catherine’s blood turned to molten lava. Dean stared at her as if he wanted to devour her. She left her hand where it was. “What do you want to know?”

  He pushed his mug to the side and leaned in closer. Catherine could smell his scent, and like before it turned her on. “Anything. What do you like to do in your off hours? Any hobbies?”

  She laughed. “Seriously?”

  One side of his mouth kicked up in a playful half grin. “Why not? It’s a place to start.”

  “Okay. I either spend time with my friend Mary, or I read. I love books. It’s something Gracie and I have in common.” She tilted her head to the side. “What about you? Do you like to read?”

  “Eh, not all that much.” He paused a second, then asked, “Your friend, what’s she like?”

  “She’s different. Bold, lovable, a real risk taker.” Catherine shrugged. “The opposite of me. We’re as close as sisters though.”

  Dean slid his thumb back and forth over her knuckles, creating a maelstrom of need inside her. “I’m not sure about the risk taker part,” he murmured, “but you can be pretty bold. Hell, you’ve put me in my place more than once.”

  Catherine liked the way Dean described her, even if it was inaccurate. “I don’t think you’re talking about the right person.”

  “Hmm, we’ll leave that for another day. For now, tell me about your job, web design. Do you enjoy it?”

  Oh, now, that was a subject she could sink her teeth into. “I love it. It can be demanding and clients can be difficult at times, but it’s nice to set my own hours. And there’s a lot of satisfaction when I finish a project and the client walks away happy.”

  “Web design requires a fair amount of knowledge with coding, doesn’t it? You must be good with computers.”

  She swirled her finger around the rim of her mug, gathering several droplets of foam, then licked it off. “I know enough,” she answered. “But I’d like to go back to college to learn more.”

  He frowned. “I’m having a hard time picturing you sitting alone at a computer all day. How’d you get into it?”

  The fact Dean couldn’t imagine Catherine in such a way was more proof that he had her pegged all wrong. More proof that she needed to show him that she wasn’t the woman he thought she was.

  “I started out thinking it was computer engineering that I wanted to do,” Catherine replied. “I ended up in information technology instead.”

  He looked her over and murmured, “I’d never figure you for a geek.”

  Her eyes grew round. “I am not a geek!”

  “You sure as hell don’t look like one,” he growled, as he tugged on her hand and brought it to his mouth. He brushed each fingertip with his lips, one by one, until she was panting. By the time he placed her hand back on the table, Catherine’s pussy throbbed. “Don’t taste like one either.”

  She had to clear the lump out of her throat before asking, “Tasted a lot of geeks, have you?”

  He winked. “I confess, you’re my first.”

  “Oh, I—”

  “Catherine?”

  Catherine’s breathing increased. “Yes?”

  He nodded toward her hot chocolate. “Are you finished with your drink?”

  She looked down at the half-empty mug. If she said yes, they’d be moving their little party into the bedroom. Did she want that? Part of her screamed “hell, yes,” but another part told her to do the right thing and leave. Getting involved with a man who didn’t even trust her couldn’t end well, could it?

  Suddenly Dean released her and stood. When he came around the table and crouched in front of her, she had the desperate urge to wrap her arms around him and drift into the passion she witnessed in his warm brown eyes. But the good, Christian girl her mother had raised would never be so bold.

  Large, strong hands wrapped around her thighs and squeezed. “I know you’re bothered by the trust thing. I wish like hell I could let it go, I do. But it’s there and I can’t shake it.”

  “But you still want me,” she stated. She needed to lay it all on the line.

  “I want you so badly right now I’m about to self-combust here,” he admitted in a rough voice. “Tonight, forget about the rest.”

  He moved one hand beneath her dress. The roughness of his palm scraped against her skin and set butterflies flitting through her stomach. He slid higher, until he was a bare few inches away from her pussy, and Catherine lost the ability to think clearly.

  As if knowing how much he affected her, Dean gently ordered, “Just feel, sweetheart. Let yourself go.”

  “Dean.” His name came out as a moan. Catherine hardly recognized her own voice.

  “Mmm, fuck, yeah, I love the way you say my name,” he whispered, his hand inching ever closer. When he came into contact with her panties, he stilled. “You’re wet for me, huh?”

  She slapped a hand over her eyes. “Yes,” Catherine admitted as she tried to gra
pple for control.

  Dean’s hand cupped her mound. She pried her eyes open to see the dark desire etched into his handsome features. His nostrils flared, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’m dying to see these pretty panties, Catherine.”

  Catherine shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not . . . not the type to play like this with a man. I’ve never been the adventurous sort.”

  Dean slowly moved his hand up and down her pussy, caressing her through the silk. “And I’ve never fondled a woman in my kitchen before, but now I can see the appeal.”

  As Catherine sat in the hard wooden kitchen chair, Dean’s hand covering her pussy and teasing her beyond reason, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “I want to be adventurous, Dean. With you. Tonight.”

  “Hell, yeah,” he growled as he pulled his hand away and stood. Before she could take another breath, he had her cradled against his chest. “I’m going to need plenty of room for what I have in mind, sweetheart.”

  A bout of insecurity hit from out of nowhere as Catherine imagined getting naked in front of Dean. He was so fit, without an ounce of fat on him. She, on the other hand, had more than enough fluff for the two of them. She buried her head in his chest and groaned.

  Dean stopped. “Look at me, Catherine,” he ordered, his tone almost angry. For whatever reason Catherine couldn’t disobey him. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, when their gazes connected. “Sweet and shy and sexy, and I can’t wait to get this dress off you so I can touch this hot body.”

  “I’m the epitome of imperfection,” she admitted in a last-ditch effort to get him to see her for who she really was: the average gal with a little extra to love and not the gorgeous creature he’d described.

  “My cock disagrees with you.” He touched his lips to hers in a brief caress, leaving her body craving so much more. “Let’s listen to him, shall we?”

  Despite the heat of the moment, Catherine found herself grinning. “So far he’s had some pretty great ideas.”

 

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