Nobody's Princess

by Sarah Hegger

  “Okay.” Dakota swung his legs around and sat up. He sat and glared, eyeball to eyeball with her. “I said I wanted to go and live with my brother, and what did my mother do? She off-loaded me on his fucking ex-wife.” He glared at Tiffany as if it were her doing. “Now, it turns out my brother is a total douche who doesn’t want me. So maybe my mother is not as much of a dumb bitch as I thought. And I’m still stuck with the fucking ex-wife, who would rather stick her head in a bucket of bleach than keep me around. So I say again, what the fuck does it matter what I want?”

  Scattered in amongst the liberal insults was enough hurt to deaden Tiffany’s mad. She’d been there to see how much Dakota loved his big brother. This would leave huge claw marks right through Dakota’s heart. “You know, I don’t mind having you around. I really don’t like being called Barbie and the fucking ex-wife, but you never once asked me how I felt about having you around. You just assumed I hated it.”

  He sneered at her and flung himself back on his bed.

  “I mean it. You’re a total pain in the ass, but we were friends when you were a kid, and if you stopped being mad at me, maybe we could be friends again.”

  Dakota glared at the blank screen.

  “I have plenty of space at the condo, and a summer in downtown Chicago could be some fun.” Nothing. “You know, I understand,” she said.

  Dakota rolled his eyes.

  At least it showed he was listening. “No, I do. I understand what it feels like to not have any control over your life. I thought you might want some.”

  Nothing.

  “Think about it.” Tiffany got to her feet.

  Thomas stood with her. “I’m going to take Tiffany for a drink. You going to be okay here?”

  “Sure.” Dakota grabbed the remote back and turned the TV on. “Maybe if you get her drunk enough, she might actually let you fuck her.”

  Tiffany sucked in a breath. Wow, Dakota lined her up and took his shot every time. It made it so hard to remember he was still a kid, a hurting kid.

  Thomas surprised the hell out of her when he laughed. “You think?”

  “Shit.” Tiffany breathed deep as Thomas closed the door behind them.

  “He’s hurt and angry,” Thomas said.

  “He’s good at it.”

  Thomas whistled between his teeth. “Damn good.”

  Heat baked off the blacktop in shimmering waves that crept beneath her clothing and stuck to her skin. So far, this day had lasted almost a lifetime.

  They both slowed their pace as they made their way toward the small motel bar. One or two trucks outside said they weren’t the only ones in need of a drink.

  “He adored Luke as a boy,” she said.

  Thomas took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “He still does.”

  Lola as a mother was a bad enough draw; combine that with a father in prison and a brother like Luke, and he was zero for three. No wonder he’d found his way into a crowd that did drugs. Dakota’s reality pretty much blew.

  “I think Luke will come around,” she said and wished she could believe it more. The truth was, she didn’t really know this Luke. She hadn’t known the old one all that well, either, or they wouldn’t have screwed up their marriage like they did.

  “Yes, he will.”

  She looked up at Thomas as he said it. It sounded more like a promise than a statement. The thing with Luke and her was over. Chapter closed. Suddenly, she needed to celebrate a bit. Maybe a lot.

  He pushed open the door to the bar. “Let’s get to the other elephant in the room.”

  “I think I may need to be drunk for this one,” Tiffany said.

  He tugged her over to the bar. “You and me both.”

  Today she ordered a vodka and soda. It sounded cool and refreshing. The barman slid their drinks in front of them.

  “So, here’s the thing.” Thomas turned to her. “I like you, more than I should, all things considered.” He took a sip of his beer, glancing around the bar at the other patrons.

  There had to be more coming. He took another sip of beer. Hardly worth ordering a drink to hear. “That’s it?”

  “Yup.”

  She stared at the drink in front of her where bubbles clustered happily around the ice cubes. Some country singer wailed the loss of his love over the sound system. No way she could bring the subject back without coming across all needy and desperate. If he told her how much he liked her, or added all the detail she’d been secretly wishing for, how would she respond? Only an hour earlier she’d disentangled her life from her ex. An angry teenage boy waited for her in his motel room. Her life was plenty messy enough.

  “Define like,” she said. Fuck it, she should put nail glue on her mouth sometimes.

  The corners of his mouth turned up as he slid a look her way. “Really?”

  “Maybe not.” She wrinkled up her nose and took a sip of her drink. Gross. It tasted like penicillin. “Could I get some 7Up in here?” She motioned to the barman. “Not diet.”

  Thomas spun her to face him, then turned on his bar stool, putting his feet on her footrest and caging her knees between his. “What the hell,” he said. “Let’s go there.”

  Her girl bits perked up. “You first.”

  He cupped her face between his big palms. “I really like you, Tiffany. The timing couldn’t be worse and your life is a serious mess—and so is mine. I should be concentrating on getting my company out of the shit Luke landed us in. Instead, I’m fixating on how much I want to get close to you.”

  All the breath left her in a rush. “Wow.”

  “That’s it?” A smile danced in his eyes. She nodded and he dropped his hands from her face. “Luke always said you were beautiful, but I had no idea until I met you.”

  “Luke tends to stretch the truth.” Her cheeks heated.

  “Not in this case.” He shook his head. “Let’s forget about it and drink.” It was the best idea.

  He grabbed his beer, but kept her caged with his knees. The denim pulled taut over the muscles of his thighs. They really were great thighs. The sort you could dig your fingers into and there would be no give. Her fingers twitched, but she kept them to herself. Her gaze strayed to the front of his T-shirt. May the F = ma be with you.

  “I think you’re beautiful, too.” Oops. She hadn’t really meant to say that. Okay, maybe a little.

  His glass clunked back on the bar. “Beautiful?”

  “In a totally manly way.”

  “Of course.”

  Her bad, bad fingers moved up, hovered over a thigh, and then traced the lettering over his chest. Hard all the way. Hard and hot to the touch. “What does it mean?”

  “May the mass times acceleration be with you. Mass times acceleration is force. So, may the Force be with you.”

  “Oh.” She got it. “Newton.”

  “Yup.”

  “You’re such a geek.”

  “I really want to kiss you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Ever been kissed by a geek?”

  “No, but I really want to.” Her gaze flew up to his. She’d like to blame the drink—but not this time, sister. Her pulse kicked up and pounded in her neck.

  His gaze got hotter and dropped to her mouth. He was going to kiss her. Hallelujah! She stopped breathing as he dipped his head toward her.

  He paused within a heartbeat of her mouth. The choice was hers. His breath huffed warm against her mouth. The pull between them tugged harder, insistent. YOLO.

  Tiffany hopped off her bar stool. She grabbed a fistful of his geek shirt, tugged, and docked her mouth to his. So good. The touch of his mouth shot right through her, and her toes curled.

  He pulled back slightly, keeping the contact light.

  She tightened her fingers in his shirt to stop him. She wanted it all. Tongues, teeth, and temptation.

  He fastened his hands around her hips, tugging her into the cradle of his thighs. Shit, he was hard already. Thank you, God.

  The touch of
his tongue lit her up from inside. She moaned softly and pressed closer into the kiss. He tasted slightly of beer, but under that was the heady musk of man. It was addictive. And oh, Lord, could the man kiss. It short-circuited her brain and roared through her girl parts. Her breasts pressed, heavy and achy, into his hard chest. She wanted to crawl into him and burrow deep. She poured her building frustration into the kiss. He took it all and handed out more, until the bar faded into the background. Nothing existed but this man and his incredible mouth. He broke the kiss long before she was ready.

  She swayed toward him.

  He dropped his forehead against hers. “Whoa.” His breath came fast and harsh. His lips were wet from hers and his tongue lapped up the taste.

  “More.” She gave his shirt a tug.

  “Any more and we’re going to have to get a room.” His soft, husky laugh stroked across the bits of her already clamoring for attention.

  “Yes,” she said.

  He drew back slightly so their eyes could meet. His color was high and the strain showed in the tight line of his jaw. “Tiffany, I’m trying really hard not to be the asshole that takes advantage of the vulnerable girl here.”

  Enough with the chitchat. “So stop.”

  She fastened her mouth on his. He caught on quick, her hot geek.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tiffany wanted to crawl up inside the man and live there. Electricity sparked and crackled through her nerve endings.

  Thomas dropped some money on the bar, grabbed her hand, and headed for the door.

  Tiffany tottered on behind him, almost running to keep up with his long strides. Somewhere, way, way, way down deep inside, a warning muttered. She stamped it right out. Today, she didn’t care. She wanted Thomas Hunter, from about two seconds after she’d seen him. Having him now, best idea ever.

  The bar door slammed shut behind them.

  Thomas spun and jerked her against his chest. Hard flesh met her breasts and drove the air out of her chest. God, he felt so good. Her head snapped back, but he snagged it in his big hand, tangling his fingers in her hair and dragging her mouth to his. Wet. Wild. Wonderful. Damn this man could kiss.

  He was strong, beautiful against her, and she curved to the defined planes of him, soft where he was hard, giving where he demanded. So thrilling it shot straight to her crotch.

  He lifted her right off her feet, hands cupping her ass. She slanted her head to increase the contact between their mouths. More, please. All of it.

  A car started in the distance. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tight, gripping him and holding him between her thighs. He felt so good, so right. The husky taste of him, the thrust of his tongue, his hands spanning her entire ass as he carried her down the passage.

  Someone shouted; she didn’t give a crap who saw them. The door pressed hard against her back.

  Breathing hard, Thomas lifted his head. “Key?”

  She slid her shaking legs to the ground. With scrabbling fingers, she dug out the key and handed it to him. Oh, God, they were really doing this. She was wet already, throbbing between her legs and desperate for more.

  Thomas grabbed for her in the cool dimness of the room. Their breathing rasped hard. The heat came off him and she had to touch. Had to. She burrowed her hands under his T-shirt. Warm, smooth skin under her palms as she slid them up his back. Under the skin, hard-packed muscle that jerked and tightened under her touch.

  He brought her pelvis into contact with his. He was so hard against her, as ready as her. Needing to get inside her as much as she needed him there. Her mouth opened under his. She couldn’t get enough of the taste of him. She pushed against him impatiently. His shirt had to go. She shoved it up.

  He pulled his mouth from hers and reached behind him to grab a fistful and tug.

  So fucking beautiful, and all hers. Hard slabs of muscle, browned in the sun with a light scattering of hair over his nipples and marching in a straight line beneath his pants. She had to taste, and she put her mouth against the column of his neck. She breathed the musk of him in as she opened her lips and lapped his skin. Salty sweat, man and skin.

  He groaned. The sound rippled through her. He liked her mouth on him and, shit, she liked putting it there. She nipped at his chest, wanting to suck all that hard into her. Down over the corrugated ridges of his stomach. Lower to what she wanted so badly her mouth watered.

  He sucked in a breath.

  She whimpered her protest as he gripped her nape, pulling her mouth back to his. Hard, hot gaze on her. “I want to taste you.”

  Her knees almost folded. Her zipper rippled open, and his fingers slid over her spine, pushing her dress down to her waist. Cool air hit her heated skin.

  His breath caught, his gaze eating up the sight of her bare breasts. Big, rough hands cupped her breasts, almost reverently, the fullness fitting into his palms and swelling over his fingers. Too gentle—she wanted hard and dirty and fast. All the heat building between them. Hours in that truck, wanting him just where she had him now. She arched her back, pushing her nipples deeper into his touch.

  “Beautiful.” His thumbs caressed her nipples. “Everywhere.”

  Heat shot straight between her legs and she swayed toward him.

  He dropped his hands to her waist, spanning the curve as he pulled her into contact with him. Naked skin against naked skin, burning, slick with sweat, needy. She could come just from the feel of his skin.

  He slid her dress all the way off.

  Good decision on the thong today, as his hands took advantage of her bare cheeks, grabbing and squeezing, pulling her against his erection.

  He walked her back, and when her legs hit the bed, she dropped onto the mattress. He stopped, poised above her.

  Denim rasped against her bare legs. She had to get under those clothes, see him, touch him, taste. Drive him batshit crazy, just like he was doing to her. She grabbed hold of his belt and slid the buckle open.

  He braced his weight on his forearms, his face intent and still.

  Clumsy and frantic, her fingers trembled on the buttons of his fly. His erection pressed against the back of her hand. She caressed his hot length. Sweet mercy, she was in for a treat.

  “Oh, yeah.” Thomas groaned and slanted his mouth over hers again. He pushed his jeans down and kicked them off. Naked flesh scorched through the insubstantial barrier of her thong.

  Shit, right there. He pressed his cock where she throbbed, rotating his hips to increase the friction. He reared up to look at her beneath him, his eyes dark and stormy as he catalogued her.

  She writhed for him, sensual and powerful, loving the way his hungry gaze took it all in, drank her all in and demanded more.

  His head dipped and hot breath seared her nipple. She needed his mouth there. Arching her back, she whimpered under the hot, wet suck of his mouth. Deeper he pulled at her nipple, pushing the barrier of pain and pleasure.

  “More. Now.” Her breath came in incoherent pants. Just more of everything.

  Impatient fingers nudged aside her thong to slide over her wet heat. His thumb found her clitoris and pressed. Yes. Oh, God, she was close. Her hips bucked against his fingers.

  Finding her slick opening, he slid his finger around and in, filling her.

  She clenched around him. More of that would push her right over the edge. “Yes.”

  He slid another finger deep inside her, his thumb working her clit. “Fuck, babe, you feel so good.”

  He had no idea how good she felt right now.

  He moved his mouth down and pressed open-mouthed kisses across her ribs and onto her flat belly as he stripped her thong down her legs. He pressed her legs open and slid down off the bed. His hot gaze raked her, harsh breath panting through his parted lips.

  His cock stood rampant between his thighs, thick and swollen. For her. She writhed her hips. He lowered his head, settling between her thighs.

  She raised her hips impatiently, wanting his mouth on her. And then it was, and she
flung her head back as need raked through her.

  He took his time, tasting her, exploring her with his tongue and his lips.

  Tiffany sank her fingers into his hair—selfish maybe, but damn, the way he used his mouth was a beautiful thing. He didn’t rush as if it were some kind of obligation. He licked across her clit slowly and then faster, sucking the bud into his mouth.

  Oh. My. God. Her grip tightened on his silky hair; if he stopped now, she’d die for sure.

  Her orgasm pushed closer. He slowed down, prolonging her pleasure until she nearly screamed at him to let her come. When she did, it was on a low keen of his name that lifted her off the bed.

  Tiffany drifted down again, her bones melting into the bed beneath her.

  He crawled up over her. A satisfied smile turned the corners of his mouth up. “You’re beautiful when you come.”

  He grabbed his jeans. Finding a condom in his wallet, he rolled it over his length.

  She wanted that. All of it inside her. “Now, Thomas.”

  He grinned and settled between her thighs. He fisted his cock and guided it into her. Her soaked tissues stretched around his girth. He filled her completely and then more. She lifted her hips to take all of him, and he slid home with a soft curse.

  Perfect.

  Raising himself on his arms, pleasure, raw and primal, stamped over his features. It made her crazy just watching him.

  He thrust slow, deep and sure. Pushing all the way in, as much as she could take before drawing out again. His abdominals bunched and flexed with each push of his hips, sweat glistening on his stomach.

  Tiffany wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed up, desperate to take all of him.

  He responded and quickened his pace, keeping his focus on her face, watching her pleasure and reflecting it back at her.

  She didn’t hold back, urging him with soft cries to go faster, deeper.

  He fucked like they’d been doing this for years. The pressure in her core built as he stroked her higher. He lowered his hand between them and found her aching clit.

  She came so hard the room dipped and swirled. She shut her eyes and let it take her over the edge.

  He gave a guttural shout as he joined her, pushing right into her as far as she could take him. Squeezing him tight, milking his orgasm, she clenched around him.