“Hello there, Chef Pruitt. Hiding from me?”
She scrunched up her shoulders and turned on the balls of her feet. “Of course not.” She popped up and grinned up at him. Before she could curb the instinct to touch him, she laid her palm on his forearm.
He pulled her around the table and curled an arm around her waist. He bent down to her, nuzzling into the space where her shoulder and neck met. He coasted around the curve of her ear with his nose, then his lips.
She went very still. Just because her bones were turning to taffy didn’t mean she had to show it. Because seriously, who did that to an ear in public. It was just rude.
In the best way ever.
She closed her eyes against the endless tingles from his lips and the light peach fuzz his scruff had become. “Come out with me. Play hooky. Play scavenger hunt with me in Dallas.” She shut her eyes when his lips coasted down the nape of her neck and his hand slid around her waist and under the apron to lightly scratch over her belly. “Come with me.” He nipped at the skin between her shoulder and neck then swirled his tongue around the spot. “Come with me, please.”
“That’s not fair in the least.”
“Who said I had to play fair?” His fingertips dug into her belly and then down into the waistband of her pants. Not all the way, just the tiniest fraction of an inch. “I want time with you today. I missed you last night.”
She rolled her hips because she couldn’t stop herself. God, she was still so wound up from the shower the day before. She hadn’t had a moment alone to even take the edge off. She needed to be able to think, and Deacon’s hands on her caused a whole lot of not thinking to happen.
His fingertips traced the top of her panties. “I can’t tell you how much I want to get my mouth on you.” Dragging her back to his impressive erection was just cruel. Who knew he had such a cruel streak? “All of you. I intend to know exactly how you taste.”
“Crap,” she said under her breath. She reached under and took his hand and dragged him out to the doorway. “Meg, I...”
The head chef was scribbling on a clipboard and didn’t look up. “Get out of here, newbie. I don’t want to see you until tonight.”
“But I have...”
Meg looked up. “If you go out with,” her eyes traveled up to Deacon, “McMuscles here, then you better come back with a big old relaxed grin on your face, capiche?”
“Uh.” Harper wasn’t quite sure what to say to that one.
“I’ll make sure she comes back in a great mood,” Deacon answered for her.
She frowned up at him. “Excuse you?”
Deacon slid an arm around her waist and propelled her out the door. “Playing hooky with permission isn’t quite as fun, but I’ll be sure to make sure we get into extra trouble to make up for it.”
“Where are we going?”
“I need to place one of the scavenger hunt pieces out in Dallas. I was thinking at one of the parks near a golf course. I saw signs when we were driving in.”
“You do realize it’s over one hundred degrees out there?”
“I used to live in Texas. I can handle it. Can you?”
“I can handle anything you do, buddy.”
“Where’s the car?”
“There.” She pointed to the next row. “We haven’t unhitched it yet.”
“You don’t like making things easy on us, now do you?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Shamelessly, she watched his biceps and shoulders flex as he detached the rusty hitch.
“Ready?” he asked.
She refocused on his face, blushing when his eyebrow rose. “What?”
“Enjoying yourself?”
She bit her lower lip. “Yeah, kinda. I mean I know I shouldn’t objectify you or anything. I’m sure plenty of women do that, but dang, Deacon...you have freaking rocking body. It’s a little daunting, actually.”
Surprise and that stupid dimple flashed. Seriously, how was she supposed to concentrate when he was so adorable? She was twenty-two years old, not twelve. She could control herself.
“I like when you objectify me. Just means you’re thinking about getting me naked. And getting me naked means I can get you naked. And that is all win.”
She rolled her eyes and threw the keys at him. “Objectify while you drive.”
“I should be keeping my eyes on the road.”
“Yeah well, I don’t have to. So I guess that’s a win-win for me, now isn’t it?” she said and slid into the passenger seat. He flashed her a grin and took a right toward the highway.
She’d never actually seen him do something so normal as drive. The road setting was getting to be all they knew. Stage and backstage, trucks and food carts, and of course, tattoos.
“How’s your back, by the way? I didn’t realize we were leaving so early last night or I would have found you.”
“To put my lotion on? Or just to see me?”
“Lotion, of course.” She couldn’t stop the smile spreading when he smirked.
“Of course.”
“I should have asked before we left, but they had us packed up so fast I didn’t have time to get near you.”
“Jazz took care of me.”
“Oh.” The twinge in her belly was stupid. He’d told her that she was pretty much a sister to him, but the idea of anyone else with their hands on him...
Had she even done it right?
Okay, what the heck? Now she was just being ridiculous. Harper had never had a jealous side before. To be honest, she’d never gotten involved with a guy enough to get jealous before.
So, why was she fantasizing about breaking a certain drummer’s fingers? A drummer she liked plenty under normal circumstances?
She needed her head examined and a reality check. Or was that the same thing? Whatever. She needed both of them because she’d known the man less than a week, and she was becoming a freak.
It had to be the hormones.
All she had to do was have sex with him and get him out of her system. And the sex probably wouldn’t live up to the foreplay anyway. It rarely did. It was the danger of discovery and the fact that they’d been interrupted again and again, that was all. So, they’d get sweaty for twenty minutes and that would be the end of it. Surely.
She reached into her purse and felt around for the trio of condoms she’d stashed in the zipper pocket. She wasn’t going to rely on the too-good-to-be-true nice guy Deacon seemed to be and deny herself again.
Memories of the shower and how close she’d been to doing something stupid told her more than anything else that she needed to step it up.
And if that meant she had to suit him up and take care of business, then that’s what she’d do. For both of them.
* * *
Even with the air conditioning blasting, the sun streaming through the windows made him feel like a fried egg. Harper was curled into the passenger seat with her feet up on the dash, leaving a wide expanse of smooth leg that teased him from keeping his eyes on the road.
She was a foot shorter than him, maybe a little more, but the woman was all legs. Lightly muscled and tanned from the wicked summer that was following the bus around like the tail of a comet, she was a California dream. Sun streaked blonde hair was bound in one of her endless braids. But it was her blue eyes that tilted up at the corners that wrecked him.
Secrets and delight seemed to vie for attention there. And he never knew which one was going to be pointed his way. Today seemed to be more on the amused side. With a side of no-mercy that made him so hard, he was having trouble thinking of anything but her and getting her out of those dick-torturing shorts.
She lowered herself in her seat a little more and crossed her legs. With a low groan, he curled his fingers around the steering wheel.
When she grinned and kept her eyes on the road, he knew she was doing it on purpose.
She snaked her hand through her legs and aimed the vents lower, then reached her arms up to grip the back of her headrest. “It’s r
idiculously hot, isn’t it?”
Her more-than-a-mouthful breasts pressed against the bright blue tank, and the yellow cups of her bra peeked over the top.
“Keep it up, Harper.”
She slid her gaze over to his lap. “Oh, I intend to.”
“Jesus,” he muttered as he came up too fast on a car in front of them.
“Now, now, Deacon. You should be paying attention to the road, not my legs,” she said, pulling her phone up in front of her face.
He snapped his jaw tight as the traffic backed up to a standstill. And still, Harper calmly flicked through her phone. He reached over to redirect the vent, the back of his knuckles grazing her thigh.
She gave him a side-eye and gasped when he pointed the cold air between her legs.
“You looked a little warm.”
“You really want to start that game, mister?”
He grazed his nails down the back of her thigh. Smooth skin instantly turned to goose bumps. He got to the edge of her short-shorts and made a return trip to her knee.
A small car and long arms were definitely a good combination in this instance. He slid around to the front of her knee and down the inside of her thigh. Her soft gasp made him bolder. The fact that she slid her legs open just a touch wider made him smile.
Getting stuck in traffic didn’t have to totally suck.
Her hand fell to the console between them, her phone thunking into the cup holder. She lifted her right knee to block any curious onlookers in the car beside them.
Permission granted.
He swept the back of his fingers down the length of her thigh. Her breathing stopped as he found where thigh met center then traced his way to her outer thigh. When she blew out a breath, he felt his own lungs hitch.
He shifted to give his strangled cock a little room. He drew circles around the top of her thigh as they moved a few spare car lengths. Intimacy swirled between them. The intricate guitar licks from Keith Urban filled the space. When in Dallas, you got more country than rock. But he didn’t mind.
When her hips lifted and her hand rose to the headrest, he swallowed down the need to dive in and feel the slick wetness he knew would be waiting for him. Soon enough, he’d have her clasping around him.
Well, maybe not soon enough, but it was happening today. He’d raided the bus stash of condoms. Fuck it if he looked like he was expecting too much. He wasn’t going to be holding his blue balls tonight. And from the way she was twisting in her seat, he was pretty sure they were both on the same page.
Patience waning, he palmed her inner thigh and skimmed the edge of her panties. Warm, damp lace greeted him. She tipped her head back, the long line of her vulnerable neck urging him to bury his face in the warmth.
Her sunflower scent swirled in the car along with a more primitive scent that made him want to pull off the road, recline the seat, and drag her knees up to cover his ears.
He wanted her taste inside him. Wanted to drown in her and watch her come. He wanted to hear his name on that husky sigh she let out just as she went over.
Settling for the sound, if not the taste, he tucked his fingers under the elastic. And he wasn’t disappointed. She slammed her back into the seat and lifted for him.
Ages of playing the bass and the guitar was damn good practice for taking his time to please a woman. But he didn’t want to fall back on his usual tricks. No, this woman was different. Taking his time to learn the spots that made her writhe, that made her cry out, and the deeper clench of her inner muscles had sweat popping out at his temples and sliding down his neck.
She clutched around his wrist as he slid two fingers inside her. The warm clasp of her inner tissues and her silky arousal had him swearing.
“Fuck, Harper.”
She held him tight inside of her even as the traffic started moving again. Shit, he didn’t want to focus on the road right now.
He wanted to watch his fingers slide inside of her. Instead, he had to rely solely on touch. Curving his fingers deeper, his arm was on fire at the angle and the need to pound inside of her.
Instead, he held still as stone and felt her pulse around him. Her gasping pants filled the car, combating the air conditioner to steam the windows on her side. He held her down, sliding only a fraction of an inch inside of her as he accelerated.
Her nails bit into his skin, and he knew there would be a Harper brand by the end of this trip. But it was worth it. Controlling the edge of her orgasm was a heady experience.
And that control was going to keep him from coming in his goddamn shorts. He blocked out his own need to push her off the edge.
“Deacon McCoy, you are a sadist,” she shouted as she rose off the seat.
“You keep doing that and the businessman to our right is going to go off the road trying to watch.”
“Don’t freaking care,” she panted. “I’m so close. So—” she screamed out a growl as the flat of where his finger met his palm found her clit and slowly circled her.
“You’re so wet,” he said on a low voice. “I don’t want it to end. I want it to last.”
“If it lasts any longer, I’m not going to be able to talk later.”
“Good.”
She flashed wide blue eyes at him, closing her thighs around his wrist. “If you don’t finish me off, I’m going to stab you with a pen.”
“Such violence, Miss Pruitt.”
The laugh was as close to evil as he’d ever heard as she lifted her hips to get the friction she wanted. Control snapping, he reached deeper, curling the tips of his fingers into her as he thrust in and out of her.
“Yes. Sweet freaking Pete, yes,” she shouted.
“I can’t wait until that’s my cock.”
She bowed up. “I’m going to die. I swear to God, sex with you is going to kill me if it’s this good.”
He groaned out a laugh as she talked her way through her release. The gush of wetness and the swollen center of her made it hard to find her clit, but he did. And he fucked her as completely as he could with his hand.
She hit the release for her seat and slammed back, letting him get inside her even deeper. He kept glancing at the highway, but couldn’t peel his eyes off of her. Tremors and the light little shivers from her thighs made him insane.
Her thighs and hands clamped around his hand, and still he couldn’t stop himself from prolonging her pleasure. And then finally, the sweet sound of his name was more sob than words.
She curled onto her side with his two fingers still inside her as her breathing slowed, then returned to normal.
“Jesus, I hope I didn’t blast past our exit.”
“Who cares,” she mumbled into the seat cushion.
He laughed down at her as the traffic slowed to a crawl again. Her cheeks were fiery pink, and she’d scraped her bottom lip to a fullness he was a little jealous of.
He wanted on that mouth, to feel her cries inside him. She suddenly straightened her seat and as if she could read his mind she leaned over, pressed her lips against his neck and breathed him in.
“I’m not sure what to do with you,” she said softly.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I have a few suggestions.”
She giggled into his skin and the buzz of her lips made his damn eyes cross. From mindless to comfort in the space of a moment. How the hell was he not going to fall in love with this woman?
How far gone was he already?
When she brushed her nose along his earlobe, he realized the ratios were definitely not in his favor. So fucking far gone.
She sat back on her side of the car and nodded toward the exit. “Is that what we’re looking for?”
He flicked the turn signal. “That’s the one.”
She frowned when a whistle pealed from her phone. She swiped it to life and swore then leaned forward. “That doesn’t look good.”
While they’d been more than a little engrossed in one another, the steel gray clouds that they’d driven out of this morning on th
e bus seemed to have made their appearance in Dallas.
“Strong storm advisory is in effect.”
“Just a summer storm, right?” he asked.
“Not sure. Storms are unpredictable in August. They can just be a quick flash of rain or they can take out a bridge.”
“I’m sure it’s more like a little rain. You gonna melt, Chef?”
She punched his arm.
But the clouds became more ominous as they got closer to the park. He paid the attendant at the parking gate and found a spot. Rounding the car to open her door, he helped her out. But instead of stepping back, he caged her against the open door and brushed his mouth over hers.
She rose onto her toes and met him kiss for kiss. It was a sweet taste this time, not the same intensity from the bus or the brain-frying orgasm from the car.
This was just Harper and her sugar and cinnamon taste. When she sighed into his mouth, he finally broke the kiss with a smile. “Any ideas where you want to hide the tickets?”
She tapped her finger over the stubble at his chin. “The golf course, of course.”
“Of course.” He stepped back and took her hand. The winding path that bordered the swanky golf course was dotted with towering trees and improbably green grass for the heat of Dallas’s summer. Especially since he felt crispy fried just from being under the scorching sun.
She jogged ahead, dragging him behind her for once. But instead of detangling their hands, she laced her fingers with his. The deeper they went into the wooded area, the darker the sky got and Deacon wondered if this might be a bad idea.
Being from Texas, he knew just how vicious a storm could be, but he didn’t want to lose any time with her.
“Okay, which hole?”
He stopped dead. “Pardon?”
She turned around and laughed. “The golf course, perv.”
“Right.”
Her giggle was infectious as she dragged him into a light jog. “We need to make it easy to get to. Can’t make your scavenger people actually buy time for a round of golf.”
“True.” He looked around. They needed to find something that was technically on the park’s land so there wouldn’t be any issues with trespassing. The first fat drop of rain slid down his neck as the sky boomed with thunder.
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