How the hell he maintained a thread of normal conversation was beyond him.
“I’ll put the crib in my room for now. The bedroom is big enough.”
He thought about his large house, the one he’d bought as a surprise for his soon-to-be growing family before he’d discovered his wife had had an abortion without asking him. But he’d loved the house, and moved in anyway. Four bedrooms, three and a half baths, plenty big for… Shit.
He was not going there.
“And since my room décor is neutral, I can do whatever I want in the baby area…” Meg trailed off, realizing she was rambling, and a hot flush rushed to her cheeks. “I’m really sorry. You can’t possibly be interested in decorating talk.” She could barely meet his gaze.
“Meg?”
“Yes?” She glanced up at the sound of her name, a rumbling caress coming from his sexy mouth.
His navy eyes were focused on her, and she felt his gaze as if he were physically stroking her skin. Goose bumps lifted on her bare arms.
“Take my word for it. If you’re speaking, I’m interested.”
And that interest showed in his intent stare and focus. Not to mention, she’d felt his erection pressing against her when she’d sat on his lap earlier. She’d done her best not to squirm in her seat.
“Look, I’m sure this can’t be easy for you, but life has a way of throwing you curveballs. The important thing is how you roll with them. Have you eaten?” he asked, surprising her with the subject change.
“I was going to make myself a sandwich when I got hungry.”
Her stomach chose that moment to grumble, loudly. God, could things get any more embarrassing? She had a hot guy she wanted to jump in her living room, and she was going on about baby furniture while her stomach made unattractive noises.
She’d just have to roll with it, as he’d said. “If you’re hungry, I could make you one too? Unless you didn’t plan on staying…”
“What’s wrong?”
“I just realized… Why are you here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you showed up when you did, but … why?” She’d been so thrown by Mike, so relieved to see Scott on the other side of the door, she hadn’t thought to ask.
“I came to see how you were doing. And—” He slipped a hand behind her neck, his touch a hot brand on her skin. “I didn’t like not speaking to you all week.”
Her stomach flipped delightfully at the admission. “I felt the same way,” she said, unable to not tell him the truth.
“Now that’s good to hear.” He spoke in a low, husky voice. Then he moved in, his lips this close to hers, his breath warm against her mouth. “Because staying away was fucking hard.”
His thumb swiped over her lower lip. A hot, aching feeling settled between her thighs along with dampness and a deep yearning for fulfillment. “Scott—” She didn’t know what she wanted to say, just that she wanted, no, needed him.
His eyes darkened with serious intent. She wanted his hot mouth on hers desperately, and barely breathing, she waited for what he’d do next.
But the doorbell rang, jarring them both. She jumped, he swore, and the moment was broken.
“That’ll be a cop to take your statement.” Scott shot her a look of regret before he rose. He paused and drew a long breath.
His hands, she noted, were clenched in tight fists. At least she wasn’t the only one frustrated.
He strode across the room to answer the door, giving Meg a chance to breathe. Stunned, she leaned back against the couch. What the hell had just happened? One minute they’d been talking about restraining orders and baby furniture and the next she’d thought he was going to fuck her right here.
Jesus. She rubbed her eyes and groaned before glancing over to where Scott spoke to a very young-looking uniformed officer.
She studied Scott, pleasure suffusing her as she took him in. In his faded jeans that molded to his hard thighs and taut ass, and navy tee shirt, he was hot. Well built, dark hair, and much more clean-cut-looking than the type of guy she usually went for. But everything about Scott was different, from his looks to his commanding air. Meg had been bossed around by men before, but Scott’s brand of control made her feel safe and cared for, not put down and concerned.
He affected her emotionally and sexually, tying her in knots of confusion and need. For the last week, thoughts of him had distracted her during the day. She’d sit in her classroom and recall his big hands on her breasts, his mouth on her nipples, and then she’d hear someone shout … and she’d come back to herself, realize she was sitting alone, tingling and aware.
And the nights? He’d consumed her dreams, turning them hot and erotic. She’d actually feel his thick cock pounding into her, going so far as to cause her to orgasm in her sleep. She groaned and squeezed her thighs tightly together, aware and aroused even now.
But because she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, his silence for the last week had left her thinking she was distinctly forgettable. Meg didn’t sleep around often or randomly. That she’d had sex with Scott meant something, no matter how hard she fought the notion. She’d wanted to be memorable in return. Now he was here…
“Meg? Ready to talk to Officer Jenkins about what happened with Mike?” Scott called over to her.
At the mention of her ex, all hot, sexy thoughts vanished. She spent the next thirty minutes recounting her visit from her ex, providing a copy of the restraining order, and listening as the cop spoke to her neighbor. By the time the woman finished, Meg was surprised she hadn’t complained to the landlord about the problems and noise Meg’s issues had caused. But Mrs. Booth seemed sympathetic and understanding. She promised to keep an eye and ear out for her ex while Meg was at work.
Meg thanked her.
The officer jotted down some notes, then flipped the pad closed. “Okay, got it.”
“You’ll pay Mike Ashton a visit?” Scott asked, although from his tone, it came out as more of a demand.
“We’re busy tonight,” Officer Jenkins explained, though he didn’t sound too upset about it. “And since nothing really happened here other than some noise and disturbance, I’ll file the report, and it’ll be on record. Meanwhile, keep your door locked.”
Scott shook his head and muttered a curse as Meg walked the officer out and locked up behind him.
“He’s new and not on my shift.” Clearly agitated, he raked his fingers through his hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a talk with your asshole ex and remind him what the fuck a restraining order means.”
“No, please don’t.” The thought of Scott confronting Mike turned her stomach. “It’s fine. You don’t need to get involved. The officer said if he bothered me again, they’d talk to him. I don’t want to get you in any trouble with your superiors.”
“Baby?”
She blinked, shocked at how that word, the one he used when he was in seduction mode, affected her. Suddenly her body burned hot, desire pulsing inside her again.
“Yes?” she managed to ask, her mouth dry.
“Don’t kid yourself,” he murmured huskily. “I’m already involved.”
Oh. Oh. She swiped her tongue across her lips, and his hot gaze followed the gesture. “I… Umm…”
He grinned at how flustered she’d gotten. “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said in a tone that indicated the word could have two very different meanings.
She shivered, her nipples hardening at the various possibilities.
His gaze fell to the two points sticking out from her shirt, and a low growl sounded from inside his chest. “We’ll get to that later,” he promised, and her sex clenched at the possibility. “I don’t expect you to cook for me, so let’s go out and get something to eat. I want to make sure you have strength for later.”
And this time she knew exactly what he was referring to, and she was in complete agreement. She couldn’t resist this man and was finished trying. He’d see her get big, and the reality of a baby would send him running
soon enough. She pushed that sobering thought away.
He obviously wouldn’t let her get away with anything less than a full meal. “I like to cook. Think of it as my way of thanking you for showing up when you did.” If not for Scott, she wouldn’t have thought to call the police in once Mike had left on his own.
“You don’t need to thank me, but if you’re sure, I’d love to have you cook for me.” He said the word cook in a rumbling tone.
So hot and gravelly was his voice, he might as well have said, I’d love you to fuck me. She didn’t know how she’d make it through the next hour of cooking, dinner, and anticipation.
She turned away, needing to focus on dinner. “I hope you like grilled cheese. I have bakery bread and some really delicious kinds of cheese.”
“I’ll eat anything.”
She shivered. God, everything he said made her think of sex.
But he kept her company in the kitchen while she pulled out her frying pan, cover, and other ingredients, and eventually she calmed down while preparing dinner. She was surprised to find herself comfortable with Scott in her personal space. Although … comfortable might not be the right word considering how intently he watched her.
And how, beneath his heated gaze, her body buzzed in all the right places. Places she’d been reminding all week to get used to nonuse for the foreseeable future.
Soon the sandwiches began to sizzle. A quick check told her they were ready, and the delicious smell permeated the small kitchen. She served and was beyond pleased when he bit into the sandwich and moaned out loud, the sound too seductive to her ears considering where her thoughts had been.
“This is so good. Where’d you learn to cook? Because I gotta tell you, the most my sisters can manage is to slap cheese on bread in the toaster oven.”
She laughed at that. “Well, my mother was similar. I took over meals at a really young age.”
“Where was your father?”
She shrugged. “I don’t remember him. He left us when I was four. And then it was just me and my mom. She didn’t like being alone, and there was a revolving door of men after that.”
“That sucks.”
She nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“I wonder what’s worse. Not having a father or having one who preferred his other family.” He paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
She reached out and touched his arm, too aware of the muscles beneath her fingers and his hair-roughened skin. “I’m glad you did. It’s easier to share if you’re not alone when you’re doing it.”
She’d come late to knowing the Dare family, having just met Olivia through Dylan a few months ago. But of course she’d heard of Robert Dare, hotel mogul, with two families… There’d been stories. Whispers around Miami. But she’d never thought about how that had affected his kids.
“What happened?” she asked.
“He wasn’t around, and I grew up thinking he was a father who worked really hard for his family. That’s what he’d tell us, that he had business trips and he had to visit his various hotels. He’d come home for short periods, spoil us with gifts, and take off again.”
Meg watched his face, noting the hard lines visible now. This wasn’t an easy subject, yet he was opening up to her. “That’s really rough,” she murmured.
“It was. And it wasn’t. My mom is amazing. You’d really like her—and she’d like you,” he said, as if thinking about it had been a revelation. He smiled. “And I had my brothers and sisters. We were cool. But then one day, Dad came home, and there was a big discussion.” He frowned at the word. “I heard Mom crying, and then they told us we had to go the hospital for tests. Christ.”
He wiped a hand over his eyes, and her heart clenched at his visible pain. “They said that Dad had another kid who was sick with cancer and needed bone marrow. He wanted all of us to get tested.”
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah, except that wasn’t the worst part. That came at the hospital when we met his four other kids. And that’s when the illusion of Dad working hard for his family blew up in all of our faces.” Scott rose and took his plate with him to the sink.
She followed, placing her dish on the counter. “What happened to his sick child?”
“My sister Avery was a match. She donated bone marrow, and Sienna’s healthy now. Thank God. But I hate him,” Scott said tightly, the raw anguish in his eyes as stark as his voice. “For what he did to my mother, to us. For the lies. I don’t hate them though. The others.”
“That’s because they didn’t do anything except be born, and you understood that.” Although it couldn’t have been easy, and she admired the man he’d become, one who was compassionate and understanding despite the curveball life had thrown at him.
“Ian took forever to come around and accept the others,” he said of his oldest brother.
“Not everyone handles things the same way.”
Scott stood at the sink, head dipped, shoulders tight, arms braced on the counter. It was obvious he didn’t repeat this story often and he hated the telling. Yet he’d opened up for her. She wanted to ease his pain. To take him in her arms and soothe him, the way he’d done for her.
On impulse, she stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his back. “I’m sorry.”
He accepted the gesture with a low groan. Then, taking her off guard, he spun around, and she found their positions reversed, her back against the counter, his arms bracketing her body, closing her in. He cornered her with his big frame, and her heart rate picked up speed, the serious conversation at odds with the heat passing back and forth between them.
“But you like your other … siblings?” she asked, managing to hang on to the thread of conversation although his heat and delicious scent were distracting her. Consuming her.
His lips turned up. “Yeah. They’re okay.”
She shook her head and laughed. “You’re a good guy, Scott Dare.”
His smile slipped, and that sexy mouth turned downward in a frown. “That presents a problem then.”
She wrinkled her nose, confused. “Why?”
“Because rumor has it you’re attracted to bad boys.” He braced his hands on her hips, lifted her up, and placed her on the counter, sliding his big body between her legs.
A low hum of anticipation took up residence in her belly—and other places.
“And I want you attracted to only me.”
“Not much of a problem there,” Meg said, her sex-starved gaze meeting his. “Even after promising myself I’m not going to get involved with any man, I can’t stop wanting you.”
Chapter Four
“Well, I want you too, baby.” Relief and blinding arousal assaulted Scott at the same time. The wanting was mutual.
Talking about his family always got him wired, and his discussion with Meg had been no different, except now he had a willing, gorgeous woman he could lose himself in. And she gazed up at him expectantly, waiting for his next move. She needed release from her own rioting emotions too, and he was only too happy to provide it.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he instructed her.
She did as told, and he lifted her into his arms and headed back to the bedroom. His pulse pounded hard, increasing with each step. Once inside, he placed her on the bed. From the minute he’d seen her wide-eyed and panicked earlier, he’d felt a primal need to protect. And when she’d turned to him for comfort, he’d wanted to own her and make sure nobody could hurt her again.
He kicked off his sneakers, removed his socks, then reached down and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. “I don’t know if I can take it slow,” he warned her.
Her darkened eyes followed his every movement. “And I don’t want you to. I told you once before, I’m not fragile.”
She lifted her shirt and threw it the way his had gone, leaving her bare on top, no bra, revealing plump breasts, pink nipples taut and ripe, begging fo
r his lips, his mouth. His teeth.
He hissed out a slow breath, unbuttoning his jeans and shucking them quickly. When he glanced back, she was shimmying out of her sweats, pulling her panties off along with them. She added them to the pile on the floor.
Then he glanced down and took her in—beautiful woman, all glowing skin and flushed cheeks.
“Look what you do to me.” He took himself in hand and ran his palm up and down the painfully hard length.
“I am.” She pushed herself backward and leaned against the headboard. Her legs were parted, giving him a good look at her glistening pussy. He groaned and pumped his shaft harder.
With an intoxicating smile, she crooked a finger his way. “Come here and let me take care of you.”
He shook his head. Much as he wanted those gorgeous lips around his cock, he needed his mouth on her, needed to taste her.
“Not this time.” He wrapped his hands around her ankles and pulled her toward the edge of the mattress.
“Aaah!” She shrieked in shock. As she realized his plan, she glanced up at him with dark eyes full of desire and need.
He grasped her thighs and pushed her legs apart, kneeling between them.
“Oh my God.”
He chuckled, deliberately blowing warm breath on her soft, damp folds.
“Scott—”
He cut off her words with a long swipe of his tongue, and a shuddering moan escaped her throat, causing him to begin teasing her pussy in earnest. He licked her bare outer lips, working his way inward, sliding his tongue up and down, all over her sex, everywhere except the tight bud that needed his attention the most.
She bucked beneath him, writhing, groaning, cursing, and begging him to make her come. He enjoyed her like this, open to him, vocal, and willing to express what she needed. Because that was his mission, to satisfy her in every possible way.
But before he slid inside her tight, hot sex and found his own release—something that would happen way too fast once he felt her slick walls cushioning his cock—he wanted her mindless and crazy, so he kept up his sensual assault now.
He eased her down from the peak, turning his hard licks and nibbles to softer strokes, not wanting her to come just yet. He soothed her with soft flickers that didn’t do anything except arouse and tease. Only when he was sure she’d lost that edge did he begin again, nuzzling her with his nose, inhaling her feminine scent, and sliding his tongue into her hot, wet channel.
Dare to Hold Page 5