Heat It Up

by Elle Kennedy

  “—like, incredible head. That blowjob should go down in history, pun intended.”

  Becker pressed his hands to his sides, fighting back a rush of rage. Was Evans such an asshole that he’d talk about this shit in front of him? And to give O’Connor details about what Jane was like in bed, that was sleazy as hell.

  Matt laughed. “Did you spend the night?”

  “Naah. Awesome BJ aside, the sex wasn’t all that great.”

  Beck’s fingers curled into fists. Okay, this was fucking disrespectful. If Evans said even one more word…

  “I like my women moaning and squirming and you know, getting into it. She just lay there, looking bored, making me do all the work.” Ryan shrugged. “She was tight as hell, though—”

  Becker snapped. One second he was standing by the pool table, the next he was shoving Evans hard against the wall. He seized the other man by the collar and shook him hard, his vision nothing but a hazy red.

  “Don’t fucking talk about her like that,” Becker growled.

  Shock flooded Ryan’s face, accompanied by a spark of fear in his blue eyes. “What the fuck are you doing, Lieutenant?”

  He shook the younger guy again, his jaw so tight that his teeth started to hurt. “This isn’t a locker room,” he spat out. “Show her some goddamn respect.”

  A hand suddenly clamped down on Becker’s shoulder. “Beck, let him go,” came Carson’s even voice.

  Becker didn’t ease his grip. Glaring at Ryan, he said, “If I hear you talking about Jane in that way again—”

  “Jane?” Ryan interrupted, his eyes widening.

  “What, you forgot her fucking name already?”

  There was a short pause, and then Ryan sighed. “We weren’t talking about Jane, man. We were talking about Cynthia.”

  Becker blinked. “Who?”

  “Cynthia, the chick I hooked up with last night.”

  The air went rushing out of Becker’s lungs. Cynthia? He looked into Ryan’s eyes, saw the genuine confusion there, and cursed under his breath. Shit. Slowly, he released Evans from his kung-fu hold and took a step back. As he noticed the curious eyes focused on him, not just from his team members, but the stares of the other bar patrons, he grew uncomfortable.

  Shit.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “I thought you were…talking about her.”

  Ryan straightened the collar of his shirt, a flicker of annoyance entering his eyes. “That wasn’t cool, Lieutenant.”

  “I know.” He drew in a breath. “I’m sorry. I thought…”

  “You thought I fucked her,” Ryan finished knowingly. “Yeah, well, I would’ve, if she’d wanted me. But she didn’t. I took her back to her hotel room, where she spent half the night crying.”

  Becker hesitated. “Why was she crying?” he asked softly.

  “Because you dumped her, you idiot.”

  “You can’t call your superior officer an idiot,” Carson said. He smirked. “But I can.” He cast an irritated look in Becker’s direction. “You’re an idiot. You didn’t even talk to her, did you?”

  “No,” Becker admitted.

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “Because…” He let out a sigh. “Because I thought she slept with him,” he said, jerking his thumb at Ryan. He stared at the other guy in remorse. “I saw you two in the hotel parking lot.” Becker swallowed. “You had your arm around her, and the two of you walked inside together. I assumed you…you know.”

  Ryan flashed a grin. “Like I said, I totally would have, if she wanted me. But she’s in love with you. She spent the entire night downing margaritas and talking about what a jerk you were for ending things, then she cried, then…well, then there was the vomit thing, and finally she went to bed.” He gave a pointed look. “I slept on the floor, by the way. I only stayed the night because I didn’t want her to be alone.”

  Becker had no idea what to say. He felt like a total asshole for making assumptions. And he felt like an even bigger asshole when he pictured Jane’s silky-smooth cheeks soaked with tears. He’d caused those tears. He’d built up this foolish image of his perfect woman, a woman who was the complete opposite of his ex-wife. But who the fuck needed perfection? And why on earth would he ever want a sweet, docile wife when he could have his feisty, stubborn Jane?

  “I’m an idiot,” he muttered under his breath.

  Carson overheard the remark and said, “Trust us, we know.”

  Jane’s hands were full of shopping bags as she climbed the stairs leading up to her third-floor apartment. Her building didn’t have an elevator, but considering her claustrophobia, that was a blessing. It was good exercise too, hiking up all those stairs. But super irritating when trying to make the climb with all these bags. Liz had been right, though. All she’d needed to do was get out of the house and already she felt much better. Of course, a shiny pair of Manolos and three new dresses could make anyone feel better.

  Shoving the bags in her right hand into her left, she dug around in her purse in search of her keys, head bent as she headed down the corridor toward her apartment. She’d just grabbed hold of her key ring when she lost her grip on the purse. It went flying to the floor, its contents spilling onto the carpeted hallway floor.

  “Need some help?”

  The familiar voice startled the hell out of her, causing her to drop the bags she was holding. Those fell too, joining her purse on the ground, but Jane was too stunned to pay attention to the discarded items. Becker was standing in front of her door, clad in a pair of khakis and a blue button-down shirt over a white T-shirt that molded to his perfect chest. Apprehension clouded his eyes, along with a spark of heat that burned brighter when their gazes locked.

  “What are you doing here?” she squeaked.

  “I wanted to see you,” he said simply.

  She swallowed. “Why?”

  “Because I missed you.”

  Her heart did a little flip. She wanted to throw her arms around his strong, corded neck and kiss him, but she forced herself to stay put. She didn’t fully trust this. Didn’t fully trust him. What had changed? A week ago, he’d been telling her he didn’t want to get attached to her, that her goals were too different from his, and now here he was, standing in front of her.

  “You drove three hours to tell me you missed me? You could have just picked up the phone, you know,” she said quietly.

  “No,” he disagreed. “I couldn’t.”

  “Why?” she asked again.

  Becker took a step closer. She could see his pulse throbbing in his throat. “Because I need to say this in person, Jane.”

  She bit her lower lip. “Say what?”

  He moved even closer, his expression tender. “That I’m in love with you.”

  Jane’s mouth went dry. “What?”

  “You heard me,” he said huskily. “I’ve fallen for you, Jane. And I was a total jerk for ending things the way I did.”

  “Yeah, you were,” she agreed.

  “I was going to tell you I made a mistake. I realized it the day after.” His features creased with something that resembled guilt. “I came to find you that night, at the hotel. Only when I got there, I saw you and Ryan in the parking lot, and I…”

  “You thought I slept with him,” she said flatly.

  Shame swam in his eyes. “Yes. I jumped to conclusions. I…” His voice wobbled. “I figured it confirmed what I was thinking all along, that you weren’t my type…you weren’t serious about me.”

  Jane let out a shaky breath. “I was serious about you.”

  “Past tense?” he said, watching her carefully.

  She met his gaze, and the hope and trepidation she saw there sent a rush of warmth flooding through her. “Present tense,” she said softly. “I am serious about you.”

  He didn’t speak for a moment, for so long, in fact, that she started to worry. But when he finally opened his mouth, it was worth the wait. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry for comparing you to Alice, f
or telling you you’re not my type, and most of all, for believing you’d jump into bed with the first warm body you came across.” He stepped forward, one calloused hand reaching out to stroke her cheek. “Can we start over?”

  A part of her wanted to scream yes! But she tamped down the eager response, studying Becker’s handsome face. “How will we make a relationship work, Beck? We live in different cities.”

  “Three hours away, that’s all,” he said quietly. “And I promise you, I’ll come up here whenever I can. I’ll spend every available second making you happy, Jane.”

  Pleasure skittered up her spine. “Wow. You actually sound like you mean that.”

  “I do mean it.” He smiled. “We can figure this out as we go along. I’ll do the long-distance thing for as long as we have to. All I know is that I want to be with you. I’ll take whatever I can get.”

  “What about the passive housewife you wanted?” she teased.

  “Screw passive,” he said fervently. He bent his head close to her ear. “I want aggressive, Jane. I want fiery and bold and honest. I want you.”

  And there it was. The three little words that made her melt. The three little words she’d wanted to hear since the moment Becker told her she didn’t fit his blueprint for an ideal woman. Well, screw the blueprint. She’d known all along that she was exactly what he needed. Someone who made him laugh, someone who challenged him and excited him and turned him on. And now he knew it too.

  She offered an innocent grin. “Took you long enough to figure it out, huh?”

  Amusement danced in his eyes. “So I’m a little slow on the uptake. Don’t rub it in.” He planted his hands on her waist and yanked her toward him. The second their bodies met, a ribbon of heat uncurled inside her body, making her skin burn. “I missed you,” Becker said gruffly, no longer looking amused, but incredibly aroused.

  Jane’s eyelids fluttered closed as he leaned in to kiss her. The moment their lips touched, a thrill shot up her spine. “I missed you too,” she whispered against his mouth.

  They kissed again, a hurried joining of lips, a dueling of tongues. Jane was breathless when they finally broke apart. Her heart thudded wildly against her ribs, her nipples tingling, her panties soaked. “For the love of God,” she squeezed out. “Help me pick up all these bags so we can go inside the apartment.”

  Becker’s eyes twinkled. “If I help, do you promise we can do naked things?”

  She bit back laughter. “Oh, we’ll definitely be doing naked things.”

  “Good,” he said, giving a satisfied nod.

  And then he helped her gather up the fallen bags, followed her into the apartment, and shut the door behind them.

  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 elle@ellekennedy.com.

  Look for these titles by Elle Kennedy

  Now Available:

  Out of Uniform

  Heat of the Moment

  Heat of Passion

  Heat of the Storm

  Bad Moon Rising

  Dance of Seduction

  Midnight Encounters

  Going for It

  Red Hot Summer

  Hot Summer Nights

  Hidden Desires

  Coming Soon

  Heat of the Night

  Don’t get even. Get everything…

  A Proper Seduction

  © 2010 HelenKay Dimon

  Even before her bad marriage ended, Lauren MacDonald lost everything—her job, her friends, her self-esteem, and her sexual appetite. Now that she’s finally free, she’s struggling to regain control of a life her ex did his best to destroy.

  The plan: sex with Justin Scott, her ex’s business partner. The man her husband invited into their marital bed, forcing her to realize it was time to get out. Justin was the star of the fantasies that helped her endure her marriage, so she can’t deny she wanted him—but not like that. She wants him like this—alone. In her bed. For exactly three nights.

  Justin screwed up with Lauren, and in the past she’s made no secret of the fact she loathes him. So when she walks into his office flashing miles of long, lean legs, his brain cells misfire. Three nights of meaningless sex? He’s all over it. Not only does he have the chance to unleash his desire for her, it’s the opening he’s been waiting for—to convince her to give him more.

  Warning: This book contains a little revenge, some bargaining, a lot of sex in hotel rooms and an inventive use for a bathrobe.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for A Proper Seduction:

  “Any place I can’t touch you?” He took one step. Then another, until only two feet of thin air separated them. “Anything else you don’t want me to do?”

  “Just the kissing.”

  “Care to tell me why? I’m only asking because I happen to be a fan of that particular activity.” He reached out and trailed the back of his fingers down her arm until he found her hand. With one smooth move, he lifted her palm and touched her fingertips to his lips.

  The caress nearly broke her. She wanted to lean in, to soak up every drop of his musky smell. But she forced her body to stay still. If he knew how many nights she’d dreamed about his hands brushing over her, about his hot breath whispering against her neck, he’d have the power.

  Of course, all of those fantasies fizzled when she heard Gavin’s voice in her head, cheering Justin on. But this time would be different. She would be in charge. She just had to make sure Justin understood the parameters of their nights together first.

  “No kissing—”

  “Anywhere?”

  She was tempted to agree just to keep an even keel, but didn’t want to give up the feel of his lips against her bare skin. “No, just kissing on the lips is out.”

  “Because?”

  “It’s intimate and there’s nothing intimate about what we’re about to do.”

  “Well, I plan to get you naked and lick you all over.” His mouth closed in a soft kiss against the inside of her wrist. “Sounds pretty damn intimate to me. In fact, it’s hard to imagine how we could get closer than me being inside you.”

  A picture flashed in her head and she blinked it right back out again. “Your dick, not you.”

  “Interesting theory you have on sex.”

  She pulled her hand away before his tongue could tickle her nerve endings again. “Look, if you can’t take this seriously—”

  “You’ll go to the nearest bar and pick up a stranger?”

  “Maybe.”

  His smile disappeared. “No fucking way.”

  “I see we understand each other.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  How had they gone from taking off their clothes to chatting? She wanted action not table conversation. “Enough talking.”

  His eyebrow inched up. “What do you want me to do instead?”

  “Strip.”

  Justin hesitated.

  “Now,” she ordered, relishing how good the word felt on her tongue.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Without another word, he peeled off his tie and threw it on the bed behind her.

  She tried to back up, put some distance between them, but her calves hit the mattress and she was stuck. She could duck and run for cover on the other side of the room. The gleam in Justin’s eyes dared her to do just that. Instead, she stood there, just a few inches away, and watched, mesmerized, as his fingers went to work on his buttons. A few twitches later and his shirt stood open, revealing the hard planes of his upper body where his collarbone dipped in a hollow at the base of his neck.
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  She longed to taste him there. Her fingers itched to help him, to rush in and make him move faster. To rip those pants off and push him down onto the bed. But she waited.

  His shirt hit the floor and his hands dropped to his belt. His eyes grew even darker as he slipped the leather out of the loops and let it fall to the carpet. Next came his zipper. Slow and sure, he pulled the tab down a few clicks. It took forever to descend, as if he was drawing out the striptease to torture her. Then he stopped. With his hands tucked inside his pants and his fly open, bulge on display, he stood there.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, fighting the urge to scream the question.

  “Are you sure?” His husky voice echoed through the still room.

  Justin was giving her the choice this time. Last year, Gavin had called the shots. She had waited at home for Gavin that first night, naked on the bed as ordered, until Justin had walked in the room. His heated gaze had burned through her and she’d panicked. With her mind in a daze and embarrassment building, Gavin had soothed her with lukewarm kisses and assured her that she would enjoy the feel of another man as much as he would enjoy watching. The memory of her pathetic acquiescence chased away the heat building inside her now.

  “Lauren?”

  She shook her head in an attempt to wipe the scene from her mind. “Yes?”

  Justin smoothed his hands down her arms. “We go as fast or slow as you want.”

  “I say we try very fast.”

  “We could—”

  “Get on the bed.” The words rushed out of her. Inside, her stomach churned and her head buzzed. If she could make this happen, she could erase the bad memories and crack the hard shell that had crusted over her sexual appetite.

  Justin stared at her, his gaze searching her face before traveling down to her closed fists. He pried open one of her hands and threaded her fingers through his. “It’s not a race.”

  “I want sex.”

  “With me.” His eyes asked the question even though he phrased it as a statement.