by Anne Rainey
He was silent, staring at her with eyes that saw way too much. She looked away, unable to face the awful truth. That he enjoyed her body but may never trust her enough to want more from her.
“It’s more than sex.”
The hard tone of his voice had Catherine swinging her head back around. His eyes had gone cold. Great, she’d made him angry. Worse, she didn’t know what to say. Her emotions were all mixed up when it came to this man. Unable to think straight, Catherine lifted off his lap and went into an adjoining room, hoping it was a bathroom. She flicked a switch on the wall and saw a faucet. At least she’d gotten one thing right.
Catherine closed the door and looked around the room. Beige walls, double black sinks, and recessed lighting. The natural slate tile around the tub and inside the shower only added to the character and class of the room. She’d noticed the warmth of the tiled floor beneath her bare feet and wondered if it was heated. As she stared longingly at the huge Jacuzzi-style tub, Catherine wished she could take a long, hot soak. But she was too anxious and uncertain. Instead she opted for a quick washup.
Her hair was a wreck, and she had red splotches all over her skin from Dean’s touches and kisses. She looked . . . thoroughly loved. She shook her head and left the bathroom, but when she came back into the bedroom, Dean was already sprawled out on the bed with the covers up to his waist. She wanted to join him, but was she supposed to do that? This was her first one-night stand and she didn’t know the rules.
Catherine crossed her arms over her breasts, suddenly feeling very naked. “I suppose I should go home,” she offered.
Dean watched her in silence for a few seconds before extending a hand to her. “Stay,” he said, his voice low and rough.
She couldn’t discern his mood and she wasn’t sure staying was a great idea, but she really didn’t want the evening to end either. When she crossed the room and slipped under the covers, Dean reached over and turned off the light. A long time passed, neither of them talking or touching, and Catherine felt hollow and cold. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to feel his warmth surrounding her. To sleep in his arms, his strength and heat enfolding her in a safe cocoon.
Suddenly, Catherine felt an arm around her middle as Dean effortlessly dragged her across the expanse separating them. He pulled her into his body, her back against his chest and slung one muscled thigh over her legs. “You’re a stubborn woman, Catherine Michaels, and I have a feeling you’re going to turn my world upside down.”
Catherine’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and her voice shook when she admitted, “It wasn’t just sex to me either.”
Dean’s lips brushed the back of her head. “Sleep for now, sweetheart. We’ll figure this thing out, I promise.”
Catherine didn’t bother to dispute him, even though she knew firsthand that to believe in a promise was like buying into false advertising. The consumer always ended up the loser.
14
Catherine woke to warmth. Too much of it actually. Usually she froze half to death at night, so why was she so warm? As she shifted around, Catherine realized her bed was lumpy and hard. What the—but then it all came slamming back at her. The nightclub. The man. The sex. Oh, God, the really great sex.
Something wet swept across her cheek, and Catherine wiped her cheek and frowned. She pried one eye open, then nearly came out of her skin when she saw a large mass of fur and teeth staring her in the face.
“Uh, nice doggie.” Catherine deliberately kept her tone soft in the hopes of not riling the animal. The dog, a Rottweiler if she wasn’t mistaken, only continued to stare at her, his tongue hanging out of one side of his mouth. She couldn’t tell if the big animal was happy or hungry. She peeked around the bulky body and noticed the mutt’s stubby tail wagging back and forth. “Okay, that’s a good sign.” Deciding to take a chance that the large toothy creature was friendly, Catherine reached out a hand, palm up, and let him investigate. He sniffed her first, then as if satisfied with her scent he proceeded to lick her.
“Now that we have the meet and greet over with, I can honestly say you are a really intimidating dog.” When he plopped his large head on her stomach, all but begging to be petted, Catherine smiled and gave in. His fur was soft and shiny, well cared for. Dean had a dog? Why hadn’t she seen him before? “You’re a big pushover, aren’t you?” She frowned as something else occurred to her. “And where is your owner?” Dean was nowhere in sight. She stretched her arms above her head, yawning herself awake, and wondered if he’d sent the dog in his place so he wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward morning after. “He’s not getting off that easily,” Catherine said to the dog as she gently pushed the Rott off her stomach and legs. When feeling came back to her limbs, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, I’m not paralyzed. Things are looking up.” When she stood, the cool air in the room brought goose bumps to the surface. She’d slept naked. It’d been great while she was cuddled up to Dean, all warm and cozy. She let a grin slip over her face as she recalled the way he’d woken her in the middle of the night to make love to her. Twice. It’d been pure bliss both times.
“Okay, sleeping with the man was probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done,” she mumbled to herself. Try as she might, Catherine couldn’t quite bring herself to regret it either, even though she had no idea what it meant for their relationship, or lack thereof. Dean had been passionate and sweet and totally overwhelming. It’d been so perfect it was scary.
But not exactly smart.
Catherine looked at the dog, his big body sprawled out on the bed and sending her curious looks every so often, then said, “Still, aren’t I allowed one stupid act in a lifetime? I’ve been under a lot of stress.” When the dog only closed his eyes and began to snore, Catherine decided she wasn’t going to get any answers standing naked in the middle of the room and talking to a Rottweiler. Might as well find something to wear.
She sighed as she glanced around the room for a chest of drawers or an old T-shirt flung over a chair. When she spotted a closet, Catherine crossed the room and pushed at the sliding door. She saw several long-sleeve shirts. Would he be upset if she helped herself? She shrugged and grabbed a black one. After she had it on she fixed the collar, and that’s when a familiar scent hit her. She tugged the shirt up to her nose and inhaled. Dean. His strong, masculine scent filled her nostrils. God, it was intoxicating.
She went into the bathroom and caught sight of her reflection in the large, rectangular mirror that sat above the counter. “Holy mother, I look like crap.”
Her skin was scraped raw from where Dean’s whiskers had abraded her skin. He’d kissed every inch of her face, and now she had a rosy-cheeked look—which was not a pretty sight for a redhead. The juncture between her thighs began to throb at the memory of his sexy mouth kissing every inch of her body. He’d been so talented with that mouth of his. She wanted to experience it again. “One-night stand, my butt,” she muttered. She’d need several weeks to get the man out of her system.
Of course if something wasn’t done with her hair, she would end up scaring the daylights out of the poor man. She never had been one of those women who woke up looking refreshed. No, usually she woke looking like something the dog had dragged in. She thought of the big Rott on the bed in the other room and laughed.
She turned on the cold water and splashed her face several times. It helped to take some of the redness out of her cheeks, but her hair was way beyond repair. She’d need a shower to fix such a pathetic mess, but she didn’t want to waste another second. She wanted to find Dean. Then maybe they could share a really long . . . good-bye kiss. Now, that wasn’t at all a pleasant thought. She shook the thought away and did her best to wipe away her leftover makeup, then used some toothpaste and her finger to scrub her teeth. Catherine tried to finger comb her hair, but if anything it got worse.
“Wow, what would Mary say if she could see you now?” Catherine asked her reflection.
At the thought of her dearest and oldest frien
d, Catherine grinned from ear to ear. If Mary could see her now she’d be floored. Catherine never strayed from the straight and narrow, whereas Mary happily kept to the curves.
Catherine left the bathroom behind and headed toward her cell phone, which she’d left on the bedside table. She picked it up and dialed. Mary answered on the first ring.
“This better damn well be good or you’re dead meat.”
“Good morning, hon,” Catherine said by way of greeting.
“Cat?” Mary asked, more alert now. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything is fine. Better than fine, in fact.”
“You did something naughty.”
Catherine slumped onto the side of the bed. “How can you possibly know?”
“You had the same tone when you stuck a tack on Christopher Blythe’s chair in the tenth grade.”
Catherine remembered the incident well. Christopher had tormented her to the point she’d lost it and decided to turn the tables and give the jerk a taste of his own medicine. “Lordy, that was probably the last time I’ve done anything wild and impulsive.”
Silence from the other end, and then, “Impulsive, huh? Spill.”
“I slept with Dean,” Catherine blurted out as she picked at the hem of Dean’s shirt.
“You did?” Mary asked in a bewildered tone. “I thought you said he hated you?”
“He still doesn’t trust me, and I’m not sure sleeping with the man was a good idea, but I don’t regret it.” She squared her shoulders as she imparted that little truth. “Not one glorious minute of it.”
Mary laughed. “You slut, you!”
“I’ll tell you more later. For now I have to try and escape with my dignity intact. This morning-after stuff is for the birds.”
“Hold your head up high, hon, and he’ll be begging for more of your hot bod.”
She laughed at the crazy notion. Deep down, Catherine worried that she may never see Dean again. That maybe he’d avoid her like the plague now that he’d gotten what he wanted from her. “I’ll call you when I get back to the hotel. Go back to sleep.”
“Oh, I intend to. Keep me posted.”
“I will.” They said their good-byes and hung up. She put the phone back on the stand and headed out of the room. When she entered the kitchen she spotted Dean sitting at the table. He didn’t have a shirt on. His shoulder muscles caught her attention, and she had to force herself not to drool. She noticed he’d pulled on a pair of navy blue striped pajama pants. He was adorable, and she wanted to cross the room and straddle him. She didn’t, of course. The bold Catherine was gone. In the bright light of day she was back to being her usual boring self. Lovely.
She shored up her nerve, cleared her throat, and stood a little straighter. “Dean?”
He turned in his chair, and suddenly two sets of eyes were on her at once. Catherine inhaled sharply as she saw Deanna seated across the table. “Catherine, what are you—” She stopped midsentence as her gaze moved downward. Dean, the big idiot, merely sat there staring. If Catherine didn’t miss her guess she thought the look he sent her was one of disapproval. What was that about?
Too late it registered in Catherine’s mind exactly why they both seemed shell-shocked. All she’d bothered to put on was Dean’s black shirt, which hit her midthigh. Crap.
Abruptly, Dean stood just as Catherine swiveled on her heel, ready to retreat from the weird spot she found herself in, when she felt Dean’s hand on her shoulder, halting her flight. With one sinewy arm he pulled her up against the front of him. Catherine stumbled and tried desperately to dislodge herself, but his hold only tightened. He chuckled low under his breath, and Catherine wanted to strangle him.
She turned around, ready to blast him, but Dean descended on her, kissing her in the most passionate way. Forgetting they had an audience, Catherine went up on her tiptoes and flung her arms around his neck, then sank body and soul into the kiss. In an instant, her body was ready for him. Liquid fire flowed through her veins. His hands grasped onto her arms in a rough, bruising hold. She would have even more marks on her, but she didn’t care. She wanted this. She ached for him. Catherine pressed her lips to his, enjoying the taste of him first thing in the morning. He pried her mouth open with his tongue and slipped inside the dark recess. Dean played, their tongues tangling and dueling. Unfortunately, her brain kicked in and kicked her libido to the curb. Catherine tore her mouth away from his, momentarily caught by the way he licked his lips and stared down at her as if he wanted to take their little party into the bedroom. His dark, hooded eyes sent a shiver up her spine. Dean looked determined, and despite the fact that Deanna was mere feet away, Catherine had the urge to finish what Dean had started. Another voice intruded on her wayward thoughts, forcing her back to the here and now.
“Uh, sorry to pop in like this. I honestly didn’t know Dean had company.”
Dean cursed under his breath, then slowly released her. He turned his attention to his twin, and Catherine could swear she saw smoke coming out of his ears. “You need to learn to call first, little sister.”
If the sudden burst of laughter was anything to go by, Catherine would say that Deanna didn’t seem at all fazed by Dean’s belligerent attitude. “I’m family, Dean. We get special privileges.”
Dean shoved a hand through his hair, clearly losing his patience. “How about you leave and come back later,” he muttered. “Much later.”
As the pair of siblings argued, Catherine saw her chance to slip out of the room. Standing mostly naked in the kitchen while Dean argued with his twin was simply too much for her Southern sensibilities. As she turned to go, Dean caught her arm. “Where are you going?”
“Clothes, Dean, clothes,” she shot right back.
“I’m only going to have to take them back off. May as well stay the way you are.”
Her face heated and she heard Deanna snicker. “Dean, you’re embarrassing me,” she said under her breath.
“Dean, we really do need to talk. Give Catherine a few minutes to pull herself together.”
Finally, the voice of reason, Catherine thought. Dean didn’t bother to acknowledge his sister though. The infernal man cupped her cheek and whispered, “I loved every minute of last night, sweetheart.”
Unable to form a clear thought, Catherine stammered, and before she could take her next breath, Dean swept her off her feet and into his arms. He held her against the solid wall of his chest and strode right out of the room, leaving Deanna calling his name.
Catherine looked into his eyes and witnessed his fixed expression. He was every inch the possessive male. “Dean, you can’t leave your sister out there. Think about what you’re doing.” She was mortified, but turned on too. She wanted him so badly that she was terribly afraid she wouldn’t protest if he tried to get her into bed.
“You look so goddamn good in my shirt,” he groaned as he walked into the bedroom. “Deanna has terrible timing.”
Catherine had to agree with him there. Still, things had gone too far as it was. She pushed at his chest and said, “Put me down and go back out there and visit with your sister.”
Dean blinked several times, as if coming out of his lust-filled haze, and frowned down at her. “You’re lucky she’s here.”
His arrogant words brought her feminine pride to the forefront. “Oh really?”
“Really. I’m this close to bending you over the bed and fucking you until we both cry uncle.”
Her pussy flooded with liquid desire at the coarse language. His voice, so silky smooth, held promises of sensual delights. Putty, that’s what he’d done to her. Turned her into putty. “I tend to . . . scream. It would end up embarrassing for both of us.”
Dean smiled, sending her heart into a tailspin. “I do so enjoy it when you scream.” With obvious regret, he put her back on her feet in front of the bed. “Don’t take too long.” His gaze landed on the dog. The big animal seemed completely oblivious to the turmoil going on around him. Dean quirked a brow. “Did he scar
e you?”
“At first.” She shrugged. “I figured out pretty quick that he’s something of a softy.”
Dean laughed. “He’s my neighbor’s dog. He stopped by earlier to ask if I could dog sit while he’s out of town for a few days.” He frowned and rubbed his jaw. “I should’ve warned you. Sorry about that.”
Something about the stiff way the words had come out told Catherine that Dean didn’t apologize all that often. When she leaned down to scratch the big animal behind the ear, she thought of how nice it would’ve been if she’d known they weren’t alone in the house. “I don’t mind waking up to find the dog, but walking into the kitchen in this—” She plucked at the shirt. “And finding your sister sitting at your kitchen table is not something I ever want to repeat.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t thinking.”
“I gathered that.” The dog began to snore, catching her attention once more. “This big lug and I came to an understanding. So, no harm done.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“We decided I was A-OK and that he didn’t have to eat me.”
“His name is Duke,” Dean said as he tugged on her hair. Her gaze caught his. “Duke might not want to eat you, but I intend to get my fill of you later.”
And there went her pulse again, pounding out an erratic rhythm. “Sister. Kitchen. Go.”
Dean winked, then he was gone. Catherine slumped onto the bed. “What have I gotten myself into?”
15
The sight of Catherine as she’d stood in his kitchen would be forever tattooed onto his brain. Hell, his black shirt had never looked so good. Her curves had pulled the material tight. Her tangled mass of red hair falling down around her shoulders all but begged him to sink his fingers in and get good and lost. Her bare legs and feet had been the final straw. He’d forgotten about Dee. All he could think in that moment was getting Catherine back to bed where he could love that voluptuous body for the next few hours.