by Elle Kennedy
She felt zero enthusiasm about starting a casual fling with this man.
Because she still wanted Matt O’Connor.
Because she’d fallen for Matt O’Connor.
Swallowing hard, she met her date’s now-annoyed eyes and said, “How about we call it a night?”
“God, your chest is rock-hard,” the little brunette in Matt’s arms purred, tightening her arms around his neck. “No wonder you’re so good at this game.”
Matt decided not to point out that hard chests had nothing to do with a game of pool. Precision, maybe. A steady grip. But not a damned chest.
Smothering a weary sigh, he slowly ducked out of the woman’s embrace and reached for the cue he’d rested against the side of the table. “Let’s finish the game.”
Her brown eyes flickered with irritation as he moved to the other side of the pool table and pretended to study the placement of the balls. Fuck, why had he bothered coming here tonight? The Sand Bar was always the place to go when you wanted to find a warm, willing body to spend the night with, but for some reason, the mob of bodies and the scent of sweat and perfume made him nauseous. And the loud reggae music blasting from the speakers was giving him a headache.
He shouldn’t have come here. The idea of sex with a total stranger held absolutely no appeal for him right now.
“Actually,” he said, setting down the pool cue again, “I think I’m going to head out. I feel like I’m coming down with something.”
The brunette whose name he hadn’t even asked for gazed at him in disappointment. Then, without another word, she sauntered off, her firm ass swaying at each step she took. Not even the sight of a nice ass could lift his spirits.
Finally releasing that sigh lodged in his chest, he maneuvered through the crowd of people. Two blondes with heavy makeup shot him come-hither smiles but he ignored them, intent on getting the hell out of there. He also ignored a throaty “What’s the hurry, stud?” and a teasing “Hey, baby” from two other females.
When he stepped into the balmy night air, relief swam through him. Fuck. It was like a feeding frenzy in there. Hungry female piranhas after his body. Usually his ego would inflate from all the attention, but right now, he just felt sleazy that he used to spend so much time in a place like that.
“Hey.”
At the sound of yet another female voice, he clenched his fists, ready to shoot the chick down—and probably not in a gentle way.
And then he turned around and the irritated words of rejection got stuck in his throat. Savannah was standing by the entrance of the bar. His eyes ate her up, taking in the little violet dress and silver open-toed sandals she wore. Her hair was tied up in a complicated-looking twist and subtle makeup emphasized her beautiful features.
He cleared his throat, searching for his voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” she said simply.
There was about ten feet separating them, but Matt didn’t make a move to bridge the distance. Wariness circled him like an uneasy scavenger examining a carcass. What was she doing here? After the way they’d left things, he hadn’t thought he’d ever see her again.
Savannah took a step toward him, then stopped awkwardly. “I went by your apartment building but you weren’t there. Annabelle was on the balcony and told me you came here, so…” Her voice trailed off.
“Why are you all dressed up?” he asked guardedly.
“I was on a date.”
Pure agony slammed into him. She’d been on a date? Though it didn’t surprise him, it still elicited an unbearable wave of jealousy.
“Did you have a good time?” he muttered.
She took another step. “No.”
Matt put on a neutral tone. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Me too,” she admitted.
Straightening her shoulders, she kept walking, this time making it all the way over to him, pausing when their bodies were a foot apart. Her familiar feminine scent floated into his nostrils. He forced himself not to inhale.
“I was really looking forward to having a good time tonight,” she went on. “I got all dressed up, as you can see, and I wasn’t even averse to the idea of going to bed with him. Don’t usually do that on the first date, but you know, desperate times…”
Every muscle in his body ached. He felt like he was undergoing serious torture here. Along with the pain, anger collected in his gut, slowly spreading through his bloodstream. Was she purposely trying to hurt him? He knew she always spoke her mind, but this was borderline cruel.
“I have to go,” he choked out.
Before he could move, a soft hand touched his arm. “I’m not finished,” she said quietly.
“I don’t want to hear the rest.”
“Really? Because I was just getting to the apology part.”
He eyed her dubiously. “Didn’t fucking sound like it.”
She sighed. “I had all of these plans for tonight, Matt, but I couldn’t go through with a damn thing. The date was awful. Not because of Tony. He was cute and nice and sure, he didn’t get my humor, but that hasn’t stopped me from getting involved before. There was one problem, though.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” he said irritably.
“He wasn’t you.”
Matt refused to react to the soft-spoken confession. “Sorry to hear that,” he said again, shrugging her hand from his arm.
Savannah let her hands dangle at her sides. Something that resembled vulnerability entered her gray eyes. “I was wrong, Matt. I always thought it was better to have fun and focus on all those first little thrills, but I don’t want that anymore. When I was with Tony, the only time I felt anything remotely thrilling was when I thought about you.”
He averted his gaze. Didn’t want to listen to any of this. “Fuck, Savannah,” he spat out. “Do you actually think I’m going to get back together just because you had a bad date with some other guy?”
“No, but I’m hoping you’ll want to do it because I’m in love with you.”
He didn’t even blink. “Four days ago, I told you the same thing and you dumped me.”
“I was an idiot.” Her voice shook. “And you were right, I was scared. I’ve always believed I can’t hold a relationship, because all my past ones failed, so I avoided them. But I can’t keep avoiding. You were right about something else too—when you meet the right person, it can work. And you’re the right person, Superman.”
His heart shifted at the familiar nickname. Feeling himself soften, he curled his fingers into fists again, determined not to give in to her. He’d told her he loved her, for chrissake. Put himself out there, only to get shot down like a fighter jet.
“You’re the only man I’ve ever met who enjoys sex as much as I do,” she continued, and though he wasn’t looking at her, he could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re the only man I’ve held more than ten minutes of conversation with, the only one I talked about my work with, the only one I went to bed smiling about. You’re the only one, Matt.”
Another squeeze of his heart. Shit, if she kept going like this, he was totally going to cave.
Reading the expression on his face, Savannah reached for him again, circling her fingers around his forearm. “Please give me another chance. I know I walked away from us, but I’m asking you not to do that. I promise you, I’ll spend every second of every day proving to you that I mean everything I’m saying.”
He slowly looked at her, and the sincerity shining from her features floored him. He might have brushed it off as a lie, if it weren’t for the naked shards of vulnerability moving in her eyes. Savannah Harte didn’t do vulnerable. She didn’t expose her emotions, same way he didn’t like to expose his.
“You’re serious,” he said gruffly.
“As a heart attack,” she whispered.
“You’re in love with me.”
“Yes.” She bit her bottom lip. “And I hope you still feel the same way.”
God help him, but he did. From the moment he
’d met Savannah, she’d gotten under his skin in a way no women ever had before. She’d made him laugh during a bank robbery of all things. And her enthusiastic attitude toward sex had blown him away. After three weeks, he hadn’t tired of her, the way he always tired of the females he hooked up with.
But she’d also broken his fucking heart, another thing no other woman had ever done.
Sensing his hesitation, Savannah reached into the small purple purse hanging off her shoulder. “I brought you something. I stopped by the shop to get it before I came here.”
Matt fought his curiosity as she stuck her hand in the purse. He furrowed his brows when she held up a flower about three inches long with delicate white petals. “You brought me a flower?”
“It’s a white violet.”
Taking the fragile flower from her hands, Matt studied it for a moment, then couldn’t help but smile.
Savannah’s mouth curved in an answering smile. “You know what it means, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“Say it out loud,” she murmured.
He spoke through the lump in his throat. “It means let’s take a chance on happiness.”
They both went silent, as Matt sifted through the emotions swimming inside him. He knew how difficult this was for her. She tried so damn hard to be fun and breezy, to keep everything surface-level, but she was laying everything out there right now. She was giving him her heart.
“Okay,” he said, his voice rough.
Her head shot up. “Okay?”
“Let’s give it another try.”
The joy that lit up her eyes told him he’d made the right decision, especially since it mirrored the happiness that lightened his own heart. He’d met his match in Savannah Harte. From day one, she’d intrigued and excited him. She’d made him laugh and turned him on and showed him that staying with one woman could be as exhilarating as any casual fling.
With a grin, he yanked her toward him and dipped down to kiss her. The second their lips met, the sense of sheer rightness infused into his body. He pushed his tongue through her parted lips and deepened the kiss, until they were both panting by the time they broke apart.
“What if you get bored of me?” he teased, brushing his lips along the sweet curve of her jaw.
“I won’t.” She tipped her head to meet his eyes. “What if you do?”
“Impossible.” He nibbled on her earlobe, then bent closer and whispered, “Trust me, when it comes to the two of us, darlin’, nothing can ever be boring.”
About the Author
A RITA-award nominated author, Elle Kennedy grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a B.A. in English from York University. From an early age, she knew she wanted to be a writer, and actively began pursuing that dream when she was a teenager. When she’s not writing, she’s reading. And when she’s not reading, she’s making music with her drummer boyfriend, oil painting or indulging her love for board games.
Elle loves to hear from her readers. Visit her Web site www.ellekennedy.com or send her a note at [email protected].
Look for these titles by Elle Kennedy
Now Available:
Bad Moon Rising
Dance of Seduction
Midnight Encounters
Going for It
Red Hot Summer
Hot Summer Nights
Hidden Desires
Out of Uniform
Heat of the Moment
Heat of Passion
Heat of the Storm
Heat It Up
Heat of the Night
Coming Soon:
Welcome to Paradise
When the heat is on, anything that can happen…will.
Heat of the Night
© 2010 Elle Kennedy
Out of Uniform, Book 5
When her long-time fiancé breaks off their engagement, saying he needs to “explore other avenues”, Annabelle Holmes has no trouble reading between the lines. Bryce thinks she’s a prude. Funny, since when it comes to acting out sexual fantasies, he’s always been the squeamish one.
Determined to prove him wrong, she sublets an apartment in San Diego, grabs pen and paper, and lists all her sexual fantasies. Intending to surprise Bryce with it as soon as possible. Only the list winds up in the wrong hands—or are they the right ones?
Navy SEAL Ryan Evans is expecting a little impromptu fun with his always-willing, blonde-and-leggy neighbor. But when he slides into her bed, he finds horrified, brunette-and-curvy Annabelle instead—along with her naughty list.
Embarrassment doesn’t begin to cover it when Annabelle realizes where her list has ended up. But then Ryan makes her a delicious offer: The chance to check off every last wild, wicked item—with the help of his equally hot SEAL team buddy, Matt.
A harmless fling is easy to add to her list. Then something unexpected happens that’s not so easy to cross off…
Warning: This title features a sassy heroine, a Navy SEAL hero, and a sex list—being organized has never been so much fun! Be prepared for hot sex on the floor, in public, and even with someone watching…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Heat of the Night:
No matter how hard she tried, Annabelle couldn’t get her late-night visitor out of her mind. She spent the morning answering emails and trying to not think about Ryan, but every five seconds, the memory of his gorgeous face and drool-worthy body would float into her mind like a piece of driftwood. Hands down, he was the hottest guy she’d ever met. She still couldn’t believe he was even real. When she’d woken up to find those playful blue eyes on her and that lean, muscular body pressed against her, she’d thought she was dreaming.
During their entire exchange, she’d been fighting little sparks of desire. That spot between her legs had ached in the strangest way and her breasts had felt so heavy and tingly she’d had to cross her arms over her chest. If he’d stayed for even five more minutes, she probably would’ve jumped him.
So why did you throw him out?
Uh, Bryce? she reminded the voice in her head.
You mean the guy who dumped you?
She ignored the taunting reply and headed for the bathroom to get a towel. Fine, so maybe she didn’t owe anything to her as-of-two-days-ago ex, but she wasn’t the type of girl to hop into bed with a stranger. She was Annabelle Holmes, for Pete’s sake. Her parents had raised her to be a perfect lady, and ladies didn’t have sex with random men, no matter how appealing they might be.
She found the towel and slung it over her shoulder, then left Christina’s apartment and walked downstairs. The courtyard was empty when she stepped out into the hot afternoon air, and the pool looked so inviting she had her shorts and tank off before she even reached the deck. Tilting her head, she let the sun’s rays heat her face. Beads of sweat formed between her breasts, but she welcomed the heat, and she was happy to finally get a chance to wear this teeny yellow string bikini. It never got this hot in San Francisco, and the change of scenery was refreshing. Kicking off her flip-flops, she moved to the edge of the pool, took a breath, and dived cleanly into the deep end.
The cold water engulfed her, feeling like heaven as she swam underwater for a few moments. God, what a gorgeous day. Despite the fact that she missed her job, she was looking forward to a few weeks of downtime. Doing nothing but swimming and tanning and exploring San Diego. She closed her eyes and floated on her back for a while, relishing the solitude, but her me-time was cut short at the sound of footsteps.
Her eyes popped open just in time to see Ryan approaching the pool deck, his sexy blue eyes seeking her out and dancing playfully.
She was so surprised she sank in the water like a stone. Sputtering, she broke the surface, droplets dripping from her hair and into her eyes. “You,” she squeaked.
“Me,” Ryan confirmed.
She was suddenly grateful to be submerged in cold water, because the sight of Ryan made her extremely hot. He wore blue surf shorts and a sleeveless basketball jersey, and his chin was dott
ed with dark stubble. God, why did men look so good when they were all scruffy? Bryce never sported any scruff—the guy shaved like three times a day just to make sure his aristocratic face remained pretty-boy smooth. But Ryan…oh boy.
Putting on an indifferent voice, Annabelle raised a brow at him and said, “Didn’t we say everything we needed to say last night? You know, when I asked you to leave?”
He shot her a lazy smile. “You may have said what you needed to, but I have one more thing to say.”
“Oh, really? And what’s that?”
“Yes.”
Treading water, she shoved wet strands of hair off her forehead. “Yes what?”
Slowly, he reached into the back pocket of his shorts and removed a wrinkled piece of paper. Annabelle’s eyes widened at the familiar scrap of yellow. No. That couldn’t be the same sheet she’d been using when…shit. Shit, where had she put the list? She searched her brain, finally remembering she’d tossed the fantasy list on the floor before she went to bed. The floor…on which Ryan had dropped his clothes before he’d crawled into bed with her.
“Yes to this question,” he said pleasantly, holding up the paper. “I’m Up For This. Are You? Well, babe, yes. I am definitely up for it.”
Horror climbed up her spine, mingling with the humiliation scorching her cheeks. Scrambling up the metal ladder at the edge of the pool, she hauled herself to her feet and shot a wet arm in his direction, trying to grab the list. Grinning, he held it out of her reach. “Finders keepers,” he said mockingly.
“What are you, five? Give it back. That’s personal property,” she snapped.
Rolling his eyes, he obligingly handed her the list, which got soaked the second her wet hand clutched it. The ink began to smear, and for some asinine reason, she fanned the sheet to stop the smearing. What was the matter with her? A total stranger had just become privy to all her secret fantasies and she was trying to preserve the words? She ought to be burning the damn thing.