by Maisey Yates
She wondered if Chase would honk. Or if he would come to the door.
Him coming to the door would feel much more like a date. A real date.
A date date.
Oh, Lord, what were they doing?
She had flirted with him on the phone, and she’d enjoyed it. Had wanted—very much—to push him even harder. Trading innuendo with him was...well, it was a lot more fun than she’d imagined.
There was a heavy knock on the door and she squeaked, hopping a little bit before catching her breath. Then she grabbed her purse and started to walk to the entry, trying to calm her nerves. He’d come to the door. That felt like A Thing.
You’re being crazy. Friends with benefits. Not boyfriend.
The word boyfriend made her stomach lurch, and she did her best to ignore it. She jerked the door open, watching his face intently for his response to her new look. And she was not disappointed.
“Damn,” he said, leaning forward, resting his forearm on the doorjamb. “I didn’t realize you would be showing up dressed as Country Girl from My Dirtiest Dreams.”
She shouldn’t feel flattered by that. But she positively glowed. “It seemed fair, since you’re basically the centerfold of Blacksmith Magazine.”
He laughed. “Really? How would that photo shoot go?”
“You posing strategically in front of the forge with a bellows over your junk.”
“I am not getting my junk near the forge. The last thing I need is sensitive body parts going up in flames.”
“I know I don’t want them going up in flames.” She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of a thick blanket of awkwardness settling over them. She didn’t know what to do with him now. Did she...not touch him unless they were going to have sex? Did she kiss him if she wanted to or did she need permission?
She needed a friends-with-benefits handbook.
“Um,” she began, rather unsuccessfully. “What exactly are my benefits?”
“Meaning?”
“My benefits additional to this friendship. Do I...kiss you when I see you? Or...”
“Do you want to kiss me?”
She looked up at him, all sexy and delicious looking in his tight black T-shirt, cowboy hat and late-in-the-day stubble. “Is that a trick question? Because the only answer to ‘Do I want to kiss a very hot guy?’ is yes. But not if you don’t want to kiss me.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her up against him before bending down to kiss her slowly, thoroughly. “Does that help?”
She let out a long, slow breath, the tension that had been strangling her since he’d arrived at her house leaving her body slowly. “Yes,” she said, sighing. “It does.”
“All right,” he said, extending his hand. “Let’s go.”
She took hold of his hand, the warmth of his touch flooding her, making her stomach flip. She let him lead her to the truck, open her door for her. All manner of date-type stuff. The additional benefits were getting bound up in the dating lessons and at the moment she wasn’t sure what was for her and what was for the Making Her Datable mission.
Then she decided it didn’t matter.
She just clung to the good feelings the whole drive to Ace’s.
When they got there, she felt the true weight of the spectacle they were creating in the community. Beaches was one thing. Them being together there had certainly caused a ripple. But everyone in Copper Ridge hung out at Ace’s.
Sierra West, whose family was a client of both her and Chase, was in the corner with some other friends who were involved with local rodeo events. Sheriff Eli Garrett was over by the bar, along with his brother, Connor, and their wives, Sadie and Liss.
She looked the other direction and saw Holly and Ryan Masters sitting in the corner, looking ridiculously happy. Holly and Ryan had both grown up in foster care in Copper Ridge and so had been part of the town-charity-case section at school. Though Holly was younger and Ryan a little older, so she’d never been close friends with them. Behind them was Jonathan Bear, looking broody and unapproachable as usual.
She officially knew too many damn people.
“This town is the size of a postage stamp,” she muttered as she followed Chase to a table where they could deposit their coats and her purse.
“That’s good,” he said. “Men are seeing you attached. It’s all part of changing your reputation. That’s what you want.”
She grunted. “I guess.” It didn’t feel like what she wanted. She mostly just wanted to be alone with Chase now. No performance art required.
But she was currently a dancing monkey for all of Copper Ridge, so performance art was the order of the evening.
She also suddenly felt self-conscious about her wardrobe choice. Wearing this outfit for Chase hadn’t seemed bad at all. Wearing it in front of everyone was a little much.
The jukebox was blaring, and Luke Bryan was demanding all the country girls shake it for him, so Anna figured—regardless of how comfortable she was feeling—it was as good a time as any for them to get out on the dance floor.
The music was fast, so people weren’t touching. They were just sort of, well, shaking it near each other.
She was just standing there, looking at him and not shaking it, because she didn’t know what to do next. It felt weird to be here in front of everyone in a skirt. It felt weird to be dancing with Chase. It felt weird to not touch him. But it would be weirder to touch him.
Hell if she knew what she was doing here.
Then he reached out, brushing his fingers down her arm. That touch, that connection, rooted her to the earth. To the moment. To him. Suddenly, it didn’t matter so much what other people around them were doing. She moved in slightly, and he put his hand on her hip.
Then, before she was ready, the song ended, slowing things down. And now she really didn’t know what to do. It seemed that Chase did, though. He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her in close, taking hold of her hand with his free one.
Her heart was pounding hard. And she was pretty sure her face was bright red. She looked up at Chase, his expression unreadable. He was not bright red. Of course he wasn’t. Because even if this relationship was new for him, this kind of situation was not. He knew how to handle women. He knew how to handle sex feelings. Meanwhile, she was completely unsure of what to do. Like a buoy floating out in the middle of the ocean, just bobbing there on her own.
Her breathing got shorter, harder. Matching her heartbeat. She couldn’t just dance with him like this. She needed to not be in front of people when she felt these things. She felt like her arousal was written all over her skin. Well, it was. She was blushing like a beacon. She could probably guide ships in from the sea.
She looked at Chase’s face again. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. His dark gaze was shielded by the dim lighting, his jaw set, hard, his mouth in a firm line. That brief moment of connection that she’d felt was gone now. He was touching her still, but she had no idea what he was feeling.
She looked over to her left and noticed that people were staring. Of course they were. She and Chase were dancing and that was different. And, of course, a great many of the stares were coming from women. Women who probably felt like they should be in her position. Like she didn’t belong there.
And they could all see how much she wanted it. That she wanted him more than he wanted her. That she was the one who was completely and totally out of control. Needing him so much she couldn’t even hide it.
And they all knew she didn’t deserve it.
She pulled away from him, looking around, breathing hard. “I think... I just need a break.”
She crossed the room and went back to their table, grabbing her purse and making her way over to the bar.
Chase joined her only a few moments later. “What’s up?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“We were dancing, and then you freaked out.”
“I don’t like everybody watching us.”
“That’s the point, though.”
That simple statement stabbed her straight through the heart. “Yeah. I know.” That was the problem. He was so conscious of why they were doing this. This whole thing. And she could so easily forget. Could so easily let down all the walls and shields that she had put in place to protect her heart. And just let herself want.
She hated that. Hated craving things she couldn’t have. Affection she could never hope to earn.
Her mother had left. And no amount of wishing that she would come back, no amount of crying over that lost love, would do anything to fix it. No amount of hoping her father would drop that crusty exterior and give her a hug when she needed it would make it happen. So she just didn’t want. Or at least, she never let people see how much she wanted.
“I know,” she said, her tone a little bit stiffer than she would like.
She was bombing out here. Failing completely at remaining cool, calm and unaffected. She was standing here in public, hemorrhaging needs all over the place.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need a drink.”
“Why don’t we leave?”
She blinked. “Just...leave?”
“If you aren’t having fun, then there’s no point. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
He grabbed her hand and started to lead her through the bar. “Somewhere fun.”
She followed him out into the night, laughing helplessly when they climbed into the truck. “People are going to talk. That was all a little weird.”
“Let them talk. They need something to do.”
He started the engine and backed out of the parking lot, turning sharply and heading down the road, out of town.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere I bet you’ve never been.”
“You don’t know my life, Chase McCormack. You don’t know where I’ve been.”
“I do know your life, Anna Brown.”
She gritted her teeth, because, of course, he did. She said nothing as they continued to drive up the road. And still said nothing when he turned onto a dirt road that forked into a narrower dirt road as it went up the mountain.
“What are we doing?” she asked again.
Just then, they came to a flat, clear area. She couldn’t see anything; there were no lights except for the headlights on the truck, illuminating nothing but the side of another mountain, thick with evergreens.
“I want to make out with you. This is where you go do that.”
“We’re adults,” she said, ignoring the giddy fluttering in her stomach. “We have our own bedrooms. And beds. We don’t need to go make out in a car.”
“Need is not the operative word here. We’re expanding experiences and stuff.” He flicked the radio on, country music filling the cab of the truck. “Actually, I think before we make out—” he opened the driver’s-side door “—we should dance.”
Now there was nobody here. Which meant there was no excuse. Actually, this made her a lot more emotional. She did not like that. She didn’t like the superpower that Chase seemed to have of reaching down inside of her, past all the defenses, and grabbing hold of tender, emotional things.
But she wasn’t going to refuse, either.
It was dark out here. At least there was that.
Before she had a chance to move, Chase was at her side of the truck, opening her door. He extended his hand. “Dance with me?”
She was having a strange out-of-body experience. She wasn’t sure who this woman was, up in the woods with only a gorgeous man for company. A man who wanted to dance with her. A man who wanted to make out with her.
She unbuckled, accepting his offered hand and popping out of the truck. He spun her over to the front of the vehicle, the headlights serving as spotlights as the music played over the radio. “I’m kind of a crappy dancer,” he said, pulling her in close.
“You don’t seem like a crappy dancer to me.”
“How many men have you danced with?”
She laughed. “Um, counting now?”
“Yeah.”
“One.”
He chuckled, his breath fanning over her cheekbone. So intimate to share the air with him like this. Shocking. “Well, then, you don’t have much to compare it to.”
“I guess not. But I don’t think I would compare either way.”
“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”
“You’re in a league of your own, Chase McCormack, don’t you know?”
“Hmm. I have heard that a time or two. When teachers told me I was a unique sort of devil, sent there to make their lives miserable. Or all the times I used to get into it with my old man.”
“Well, you did raise a lot of hell.”
“Yeah. I did. I continue to raise hell, in some fashion. But I need people to see a different side of me,” he said, drawing her even tighter up against him. “I need for them to see that Sam and I can handle our business. That we can make the McCormack name big again.”
“Can you?” she asked, tilting her head up, her lips brushing his chin. The stubble there was prickly, masculine. Irresistible. So she bit him. Just lightly. Scraping her teeth over his skin.
He gripped her hair, pulling her head back. The sudden rush of danger in the movements sending a shot of adrenaline through her blood. This was so strange. Being in his arms and feeling like she was home. Like he was everything comforting and familiar. A warm blanket, a hot chocolate and a musical she’d seen a hundred times.
Then things would shift, and he would become something else entirely. A stranger. Sex, sin and all the things she’d never taken the time to explore. She liked that, too.
She was starting to get addicted to both.
“Oh, I can handle myself just fine,” he said, his tone hard.
“Can you handle me?” she asked.
He slid his hand down to cup her ass, his eyes never leaving hers as they swayed to the music. “I can handle you. However you want it.”
“Hard,” she said, her throat going dry, her words slightly unsteady. She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to say that.
“You want it hard?” he asked, his words sounding strangled.
“Yes,” she said.
“How else do you want it?” he asked, holding her against him, moving in time with the beat. She could feel his cock getting hard against her hip.
“Aren’t you the one with the lesson plan?”
“You’re the one in need of the education,” he said.
“I don’t want tonight to be about that,” she said, and she was as sure about that as she’d been about wanting it hard and equally unsure about how she knew it.
“What do you want it to be about?”
“You,” she said, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Me. That’s about it.”
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
Only everything. She shied away from that thought. “Show me what the fuss is about.”
“I did that already.”
Something hot and possessive spiked in her blood. Something she never could have anticipated, because she hadn’t even realized that it lived inside of her. “No. Something you don’t give other women, Chase. You’re my friend. You’re...more to me than one night and an orgasm. You’re right. I could have gotten that from a lot of guys. Well, maybe not the orgasm. But sex for sure. My coveralls aren’t that much of a turnoff. And you could have any woman. So give me you. And I’ll give you me. Don’t hold back.”
“You’re...not very experienced.”
She stretched up on tiptoes, press
ing her lips to his. “Did I ask for a gentleman? Or did I ask for hard?”
He tightened his grip on her hair, and this time when she looked up at his face, she didn’t see a stranger. She saw Chase. The man. The whole man. Not divided up into parts. Not Her Friend Chase or Her Lover Chase, but just...Chase.
He was all of these things. Fun and laid-back, intense and deeply sexual. She wanted it all. She craved it all. As hard as he could. As much as he could. And still, it would never, ever be enough.
“Go ahead,” she said, “take me, cowboy.”
She didn’t have to ask twice.
He propelled them both backward, pressing her up against the truck, kissing her deeply, a no-holds-barred possession of her mouth. She hadn’t even realized kissing like this existed. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had thought kissing was for. Affection. A prelude to sex. This was something else entirely. This was a language all its own. Words that didn’t exist in English. Words that she knew Chase would never be able to say.
And her body knew that. Understood it. Responded. As surely as it would have if he had spoken.
She was drowning. In this, in him. She hadn’t expected emotion to be this...fierce. She hadn’t really expected emotion at all. She hadn’t understood. She really had not understood.
But then she didn’t have the time to think about it. Or the brainpower. He tugged on her hair, drawing her head to the side before he pressed his lips to her tender neck, his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin before he closed his lips around her and sucked hard.
“You want it hard?” he asked, his voice rough. “Then we’re going to do it my way.”
He grabbed hold of her hips, turning her so that she was facing the truck. “Scoot just a little bit.” He guided her down to where the cab of the truck ended and the bed began. “Grab on.” She curved her fingers around the cold metal, a shiver running down her spine. “You ever do it like this?” he asked.
She laughed, more because she was nervous than because she thought the question was funny. “Chase, before you I had never even given a guy a blow job. Do you think I’ve ever done this before?”