“Yeah, next June,” Mad muttered, deflating with wedding talk. She wanted to get married, even wanted a nice wedding at Ludbury House, the mansion in Clover Park where a lot of weddings were held. She just didn’t like all the work of planning it.
Hailey spoke up in a perky voice, turning to Mad. “You just relax. I’ll handle all the details.”
Mad jerked her chin in acknowledgment of Hailey’s superior wedding planning abilities. Well, it was Hailey’s job, after all.
Hailey reached over and squeezed Mad’s hand, who flushed bright pink, but didn’t pull away.
Hailey addressed the group. “Well, ladies, are we ready to wrap up and head over to Garner’s for drinks?”
The women answered in a chorus of hell yeah that had them gathering their purses, chattering like always as they headed out, down the sidewalk, and across the street. Even though some of the members had recently married or gotten engaged, they always made time for their sisterhood. Who knew bonding over romance could forge such strong friendships?
When they got to Garner’s, the bar was already crowded with couples and several guys drinking beers and watching the Sox game on the TV mounted over the bar. Since it was way past dinner, the adjacent dining area was nearly empty. Her heart kicked into double time the moment she spotted Zach, his back to her, sitting with Ethan at the dark cherrywood bar. She took in his thick shaggy hair that was luscious to thread her fingers through. His wide shoulders and broad back that stretched the fabric of his dark green T-shirt and that cute ass in faded jeans. It wasn’t like she didn’t see him every night. She stopped by after her shift at the hospital (after a shower). Now that she’d gotten over her initial reserve, each time she showed up at his place, she leaped into his arms and peppered him with kisses. There was just nothing better than knowing he was waiting for her, willing to give her everything she desired.
The truth was, just looking at him made her feel lit up inside. But that wasn’t because of dangerous emotion that would leave her feeling hurt. It was more like her body remembered all the wonderful orgasms he’d given her, so it lit up in anticipation of more. At least she really hoped that was why.
She caught Hailey watching her and nodded once in a gesture of this is no problem. See? We’re two consenting adults with a short-term mutually beneficial arrangement.
Ethan said something that had Zach turning toward her. He didn’t smile, but his eyes were locked on hers, the intense focus telling her she was the most important person in the room to him. It was how he made her feel every time he looked at her. Delicious heat speared through her, a flutter low in her belly, electric energy shooting down her legs, urging her to run and leap into his arms.
No, she couldn’t do that here in front of everyone. She had to play it cool. Especially in front of Hailey, who’d been very clear about her concern for the temporary nature of their relationship. She slowly, casually made her way to him and he watched her approach with hooded eyes.
When she reached him, she used his shoulder for leverage, went up on tiptoe and kissed his temple. “Hi!”
He held her chin and kissed her gently on the lips. “Hi, Carrie,” he said in the deep honey voice that made her melt.
“You want my seat?” Ethan asked.
“Hi, Ethan,” she said cheerfully, drawing attention to the fact that she wasn’t embarrassed in the least at being caught almost having car sex and that she found him perfectly acceptable to talk to on a social occasion. He’s not a sex addict, people! “I’m good with standing.”
“Sure?” Ethan asked with a smirk. “Seems like maybe you and Zach might want to—”
“Oh, we see each other every night,” she assured him. “He just met me here to save time. We’re heading out after this.”
Ethan’s brows shot up. “Is that right?”
“Leave it,” Zach told Ethan in a low tone. Then he picked her up and settled her onto his lap.
She heated everywhere with his casual display of strength and what almost felt like possessiveness. Zach took alpha to an exhilarating level. His arm banded around her waist and he shifted her to face the bar. He pushed her hair back, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered in his deep erotic voice, “What do you want to drink?”
She shifted slightly to meet his eyes. “I usually get white wine.”
His expression was intense—serious and focused. “Is that what you want?”
It suddenly felt like the question meant so much more. Do you want more of the same? Do you want to try something a little more dangerous? And then the message she got loud and clear, that she suddenly realized she’d felt with him from day one, bounced through her brain—live it up, Carrie. I’ll keep you safe.
This was why she had zero inhibitions with him. Why she leaped into his arms, knowing he’d catch her. How was it that a bad boy made her feel so safe?
“You pick,” she said and faced front.
He leaned toward her, his soft beard grazing her cheek. “Ever try tequila?”
“Nope.”
“You’ll like it.”
She nodded, valiantly attempting to look cool even as she went damp between the legs. “You’ll like it” was the phrase he used right before he rocked her world. The message was always the same: I’m gonna fuck you like this. You’ll like it.
“I’ll take one too,” Ethan said. “It’s been a helluva week.”
Zach waved the bartender over. Josh jerked his chin and held up a finger to wait while he served some guys beer on tap. Josh was the oldest Campbell brother, along with his identical twin, thirtyish with dark brown hair that curled a bit, brown eyes, muscular bod. He was a former paratrooper in the army and kept fit. He was dressed casually in a faded black T-shirt that showed clearly defined muscles with ripped jeans. Carrie liked him a lot. He was always laid-back, charming, and flirty, except with his number one frenemy Hailey.
A few minutes later, Josh had her, Zach, and Ethan all set up with shots of tequila, salt, and limes.
Hailey appeared, standing close to Ethan. “Ooh, I’ll take one too.”
“Nope,” Josh said.
This was to be expected. In keeping with their never-ending frenemy war, Josh never let Hailey have a drink other than water. It was a drastic measure, considering they were all regular patrons of the bar that Josh managed, but Carrie had to admit the punishment fit the crime. Hailey had squashed the impotency rumor she’d started by implying Josh had a tiny banana. Denying Hailey drinks was the only revenge Josh had been able to inflict short of whipping it out to prove his manliness. He’d also spread the news far and wide that they used to be a couple and Hailey was just bitter that he was the one that got away. But that wasn’t nearly as satisfying as continually denying her drinks.
“Come on, Josh,” Ethan said. “Have a heart. The poor woman looks parched.”
Hailey let out a tinkling laugh. “Oh, Ethan, you’re so funny.” She touched her neck, met Ethan’s eyes and then looked away and back. Classic flirty move. “Maybe I could have a taste of yours,” she said in a husky voice.
Ethan’s gaze turned speculative, taking Hailey in from her perfectly smooth strawberry blond hair to her perfectly made-up face to her perfect body in a formfitting gray tank dress that ended mid-thigh with tan gladiator sandals with ties that wrapped up her calves. She always looked like she just stepped out of a glossy fashion mag.
“I’ll get you your own damn tequila, princess,” Josh grumbled and served one up, slamming the shot glass on the bar in front of Hailey. Some tequila sloshed over the side.
“You need to get laid,” Ethan told Josh.
Josh’s dark eyes were locked on Hailey. “I get plenty of action.”
Hailey held Josh’s gaze, licking her hand, sprinkling it with salt, and licking again. Josh stared at her mouth. She threw the shot back and sucked the lime. “Woo! That is good stuff!”
Josh swore under his breath, averting his gaze. “You’re cut off.”
“C’mere,” Ethan said
to Hailey. “Give my hand a lick and I’ll give you my shot too.”
Hailey licked her lips and then ran her fingers through Ethan’s short dirty blond hair. “I don’t lick just anyone, but you—” she paused dramatically and finished loud enough for the entire bar to hear “—are a fantastic candidate for a classy lady like me.”
“Fucking A,” Josh muttered, snatching Ethan’s shot and tossing it back himself. His dark eyes flashed with irritation and heat. Probably because he was pissed that he was turned on. Carrie was much better at recognizing the signs of male desire now, thanks to Zach.
Josh slashed his hand through the air at Ethan and Hailey. “You’re both cut off.” He stalked to the other side of the bar.
Hailey went right back to flirting with Ethan, who seemed receptive. Guess that worked. Carrie stopped watching the two expert flirts when Zach lifted his hand near her mouth and spoke in the deep gruff voice that never failed to make her hot. “Lick.”
Her insides clenched, her heart sped up, and she licked. He added salt. She licked again, grabbed the shot, downed it and coughed like crazy. Omigod, it burned, it burned.
“Suck the lime,” he said.
She did, her eyes watering. She turned to see if he was laughing at her inexperience, but he merely studied her in his observant way.
“How you feel now?” he asked.
She smiled, suddenly giddy. “Good.” Loose and languid, she relaxed back against her man. Her temporary man, she reminded herself. His own drink remained on the bar.
She shifted to look at him and offered her hand. “You want to have yours now?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“You want to stay here for a while, then I’ll take the shot.” His gaze smoldered with an intensity that gave her a shiver of anticipation.
“And if I’m ready to go?”
“Then I’ll give you a ride back to my place right now. No shot.” He whispered in her ear, “Primal, Carrie. You’ll like it.”
She shivered. “Yes, let’s go.” It was one of her wish list items—animals are primal—and she couldn’t wait to see how he’d interpreted it.
He lifted her off him without another word, tossed some bills on the bar, and guided her to the back parking lot, his hand on the small of her back, the touch bringing a flare of heat.
He helped her into his truck, got in the other side, and they were off. Heading for another exhilarating ride. And when she floated back to earth from the heights of ecstasy, she landed once again safe in his arms.
Chapter Eight
Zach made his way to the bed and flopped down on the mattress after a round of shower sex that lasted so long the water ran cold. “Squeaky clean is best” had been fairly easy to interpret. Actually, her whole list had been easy to figure out once he’d understood the deeper meaning of what she really wanted. For him, it didn’t matter what they did as long as he didn’t have to hold back. She didn’t want unnaturally gentle. She wanted take charge. She wanted him. For the first time he got just as much pleasure giving pleasure as he did taking his own. Her responses brought him immense satisfaction as he watched her blissful states from wonder to awe to amazement. In those moments, sex became an almost spiritual thing. A new and awesome experience for him.
He glanced over at Carrie already in bed, staring at the ceiling with a look of pure feminine satisfaction. She frequently just lay there, quietly reliving the experience. She’d shared that with him the first time he’d been concerned at her long silent state. Most women liked to talk after.
She had an intensely sensual side, not much for conversation, which suited him perfectly. He was the same way. Mostly they texted in small doses, like from Carrie repeatedly: You home?
And him: Yup.
He always made sure he was home in time to hook up with her. He liked being her bad boy, liked her a lot, but he had no idea where to go from here. She’d gotten under his skin much faster than he normally let anyone in. His lone-wolf nature hadn’t deterred her. Not that they’d spent any time together in the traditional sense of dating with getting-to-know-you conversations, but he knew the important things. He knew what she felt like—soft satin. What she tasted like—vanilla and sexy woman. What she sounded like—sweet, caring, open. If things progressed further, he’d tell her about the professor thing. He was actually a little surprised it hadn’t come up already. Carrie never asked him about himself, only about cooking. She must not have asked around about him either. What did that mean? Was this just about sex for her? Because for him it wasn’t.
It had to be more. Every night, the moment she stepped into his apartment, she lit up at the sight of him, ran, and leaped into his arms. No one had ever lit up just at the sight of him. He replayed those nightly reunions in his mind when he was running or driving or supposed to be working on his book—bubbles of pure incandescent joy. Fleeting, maybe. Temporary. They were technically at the end of their agreement—he’d gone through her entire list, even stalling by adding some of his own stuff in between. His chest tightened.
He wasn’t ready to let her go.
He turned his head, watching her staring at the ceiling, her lips curved into a small smile. The tension in his chest eased a bit because he’d made her happy.
He hadn’t thought they could get through the list so quickly in only a week. Carrie worked the one to nine p.m. shift at the hospital and showed up at his place after, spending the night and staying late into the morning. He still slipped out to the sofa after she fell asleep. And she still hadn’t noticed. He was glad; his ex had hated that he was a solo sleeper. He supposed it was his lone-wolf nature because he’d never been able to sleep with someone cuddled up against him. Women tended to be cuddlers.
He stared at the ceiling and ran a hand through his damp hair, exhausted from his week. He got a workout both day and night. Usually when Carrie was busy at work, he sat at the computer, trying to come up with a better outline for his book. He couldn’t get past the first third. Even his title “Society Against State: Geopolitics Surrounding Indigenous Nations of Southeast Asia” sounded too academic. His work didn’t translate as easily as he’d hoped for a nonacademic audience. He’d stopped and started several times, yet it kept turning into PhD dissertation part two. His brain just wouldn’t bend in another direction no matter how hard he tried. So he ended up running, working out, driving around, visiting the guys. Anything that would take him out of his head and jog things around in there. Maybe it would help if he unpacked all the boxes full of books and binders of fieldwork and reviewed everything. Hell, who was he kidding. The minute Carrie realized he was a professor of anthropology, she’d dump him. She wanted a bad boy. Considering his previous hard-core honesty, pretending didn’t bother him as much as he’d thought it would. The bad boy-naughty girl role play was the most relaxed he’d ever felt with a woman.
She had invited him for drinks with her friends. Gaining acceptance of a potential partner with friends was important in a relationship. Though maybe the invitation to drinks had just been her way of seeing her friends for their standard get-together while still having the option to pursue her real goal—more passion with him. They were both addicted to what they had in the bedroom. The more sex they had, the more sex they wanted to have.
He’d be around for a few more months. Maybe she’d agree to keep seeing him. It would be torture to run into her around town, knowing he had to keep his distance. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Selfish. He had to think of her feelings. He would definitely be taking that Singapore opportunity, leaving right after Christmas to get settled there. The fellowship was highly prestigious and could lead to his choice of job later at a top university. He was fairly certain he’d get it, only a matter of waiting for all the paperwork to clear through the committee. It pained him to admit it, but deep down he knew it wasn’t fair to lead her on with something long-term knowing he was leaving the country.
He lay there for several more minutes, agitated with his w
arring desires to keep her close or push her away for her own good. Dammit. He knew the right answer. He wouldn’t be leading another woman on with a relationship only to ruin things in the end.
He rolled to his side and was struck all over again by her beauty. Not just a surface thing. Beautiful inside and out. So pure of heart it made his own heart ache with longing for just a small piece of it.
He pushed a lock of hair back from her face. “Carrie.”
“Hmm?”
“I went through your whole list.” He waited to see if she wanted out.
She turned to him and beamed. “We crushed it! Let’s go a full two weeks and repeat everything!”
Yes! “Cool.” The reprieve drained the tension right out of him.
She rolled into him and started kissing his neck, her hands roaming all over his chest and then lower.
He felt himself getting hard again. Two weeks was for the best. He needed to buckle down and get focused on his book. The university was paying him for this year off and he needed something to show for it. He couldn’t just sex, sex, sex all the time like an animal. He stifled a groan as Carrie’s hand closed around him.
“Carrie,” he croaked because she’d gotten really good at stroking him just the way he liked. It was a damn feat of strength that he could speak at all.
She stilled her hand and looked at him with some concern. “Yes?”
“Two weeks is the max I can do. It’s not you. I just don’t do long-term.”
“Never?” she asked softly.
He couldn’t tell if she was hurt or just clarifying out of curiosity. It didn’t matter. The important thing was to be clear. He cradled her face with one hand, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “Never,” he said and then kissed her gently to ease the harshness.
She kissed him back passionately, her hand gliding up and down the length of him, and any harsh truths seemed forgiven. He relaxed, revved and ready for round two. She shifted, grazing her cheek against his beard like a cat rubbing against him, still stroking him to blue steel. Then she grabbed a condom and rolled it on him.
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