by Maria Luis
She gave in to temptation, rolling her hips against the bulge behind his customary sweatpants. “I’d say there’s a part of you feeling differently right now.”
Just then, he moved his head slightly, and a slice of light spilled across his features, revealing glittering green eyes. She sucked in a breath, wondering, for the first time, if she’d perhaps pushed him too far.
His thumbs centered on the beating pulse of her inner wrists, gently pushing down. It didn’t hurt—if anything, the weight on her body’s pressure points eased the butterflies in her stomach. He was trying to scare her off, she could see that. But what he didn’t realize was that the more he tried to push her away, the more Anna wanted to see him drop his steel walls.
The Mr. Darcy effect, obviously.
Hadn’t she told herself not to go after the Mr. Darcys of the world?
She had. She’d been telling herself that for years now, and she still hadn’t learned her lesson. Clearly.
“I think you want to,” she said, interrupting the still air. “I think you want to kiss me.”
“Then why don’t I?”
“Because you’re scared.”
His chin pulled back. “I’m not scared.”
“No?” Anna tilted her chin up, not the least bit surprised when Luke instinctively leaned down and hovered over her mouth. Then, she said the words that sealed her fate: “I dare you to prove it.”
Chapter Seventeen
“You dare me to what?”
He didn’t even know it, but Anna had this in the bag. She’d recognized his love for competition that first day at Tuck’s, when she’d challenged him to find her perfect match. One minute he’d been ready to stroll away and never look back, and in the next, his rear end had dropped to the bench and they’d been hashing out the terms.
This was no different. He wanted her; that was obvious from the way his erection jabbed into her stomach unapologetically. His brain might not want her—which quite honestly flagged her confidence somewhat—but his body keenly desired hers. Was it wrong to push him into a kiss? Perhaps a little degrading? Probably, but Anna had been fighting for what she wanted for her entire life.
Her days of easy living and of luck falling into her lap had abruptly screeched to a halt the day she’d taken a pregnancy test. She’d fought tooth and nail to keep her baby, even when her mother had pushed her to consider adoption and when her straight-laced father had slyly, and shockingly, mentioned the word “abortion.”
Julian’s father had never wanted him; Anthony Mardeaux had never made that fact a secret. But from the first moment she’d felt her son kick in her belly—and subsequently had her throwing up her lunch—Julian had been hers and hers alone.
The fight hadn’t ended there, and it wouldn’t now either.
Staring up at the shadowed face of Luke O’Connor, she silently admitted that she wanted him far more than she should. He was a package deal, guaranteed to land a woman in total heartbreak.
Anna had no interest in having her heart broken. But a single kiss on a dark street didn’t have to lead to cackling cupids and Ben & Jerry-filled nights, right? She could take his one kiss and put her stupid infatuation with him behind her as easily as she put on shoes every morning.
Are you sure about that?
“I dare you to kiss me,” she announced, shoving aside the doubts dancing in her head. “Prove that you aren’t scared to do it.”
“I’m not scared of anything.”
“So prove it.” Was this the right move? Had she lost her ever-loving mind? Shaelyn would be shocked to hear that Anna had pulled a stunt like this, and honestly, Anna was a little shocked at herself as well. “Same terms as last time.”
“Winner gets whatever they want?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“Dangerous terms,” he murmured, his hands still deliciously pinning hers to the car. “Are you sure you’re willing to risk losing twice?”
“I don’t plan on losing.”
He chuckled and the sound warmed her. “Blondie, all I have to do is kiss you and I’ve won. The way I see it, I’m staring victory straight in the face right now.”
Crap, he was totally right. Think, think, think! “Okay, new rules.”
“No can do.” His lips grazed her cheek. “You’ve already established the dare and who am I to turn it down?”
She shouldn’t have counted on Luke being a gentleman. He was rude, cocky and . . . sweet, when he wanted to be. “You can’t just give me a peck. That won’t count.”
“I haven’t pecked a woman since I was seven years old and still wearing tighty-whiteys.”
Stifling a giggle at the absurd image, Anna pursed her lips. “Lies. You pecked me on the cheek the other day.”
“You know what I mean, Blondie.”
Yeah, she did. Still . . . “Promise, Luke. You have to kiss me like you mean it. Otherwise I win on principle alone.”
“I don’t plan on losing,” he said, repeating her vow, and before she could take her next breath, his lips crashed down on hers.
Heaven.
She felt like heaven wrapped up in unicorns with a good dose of treasure under the rainbow just for shits and giggles. Tasted like it all, too.
Luke raked his fingers through her hair, dragging them down, down, down until he clasped the base of her head in his hands. Her head fell back instantly, as she let his palms support the weight under the onslaught of his kiss.
This dare had to be the stupidest one Luke had ever agreed to. The stupidest and also the most satisfying, because he doubted anything felt better in the world than Anna Bryce pressed up against his hard body.
Her lips were soft, the bottom one fuller than the top, and he stopped to nip it dead in the center, demanding entrance. She gave it at once, her mouth parting on a sexy sigh, and he changed his angle to deepen the kiss.
The kiss.
Fuck, he couldn’t believe that he was kissing Anna—after he’d told himself that this couldn’t ever happen between them—and he showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.
How could he?
She tasted like nectar on a summer morning. His eyes slammed shut. Luke didn’t do poetry. He didn’t like poetry. The woman in his arms was turning him inside out and he didn’t like it one bit.
Their undeniable chemistry would make it all the more difficult when they went their separate ways. And they would go their separate ways. Having a relationship wasn’t in the cards for Luke. His bum hip was the least of his worries.
Being in a relationship meant honesty, but Luke couldn’t make any promises on that score.
It meant having a general plan, and the army had been the only plan Luke had ever known.
And it meant children, which Luke didn’t—
His thoughts derailed as her cool hands slipped under his T-shirt and grazed his abs. “Hell,” he grunted, shifting his hands from her head to her wrists. Her blue gaze lifted, and the soft look in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees.
They needed to stop. They needed to stop right now before things went too far and he forgot all of the reasons why she deserved so much better than what he could offer her. They needed to stop right now before Luke threw caution to the wind and took her home, consequences be damned.
She lifted onto her toes, wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, and dragged his face down to hers, effectively eclipsing any fight he had left in him. It wasn’t a good idea to pretend—it never had been—but as her lips coaxed his into a playful dance of tongues and nipping teeth, Luke couldn’t think of one good reason why he couldn’t pretend that life was different. Not for forever—he knew that would never happen. Just for this one moment, where the hottest woman he’d ever met wanted him and returned the feeling tenfold.
Squirreling away his conscience, Luke took control of the kiss, his hands tracing the outline of her perfect body through her jacket. He teased her with little nibbles at her lower lip, with his fingers playing with the hem of her shir
t. Lust pulsed in his veins, making it hard to hear anything over the throbbing in his head and their symphony of sighs (her) and harsh curses (him).
Who knew how long they would have stood there, their frantic hands tugging at clothes they couldn’t remove out in the open, if fate hadn’t intervened like a vengeful bitch.
Luke almost wished someone had stumbled across them. An awkward conversation about public indecency would have been more digestible than what actually happened.
One minute he was dragging his fingers up under her shirt, aiming straight for Ground Zero (her bra) and in the next, he was on the cement at her feet, clutching at his hip and biting back a wave of nausea.
“Oh, my God,” she uttered in shock, immediately dropping to her haunches and running careful hands over his sweatpants-clad legs. “Are you okay? Luke, tell me you’re okay.”
He nearly smiled at the panic in her voice. “I’m okay.”
Her hands stilled momentarily, as though she were debating the truth of that statement, before continuing her careful scan. “You’re not okay; I know you’re not okay.”
Luke grimaced when her fingers accidentally prodded a particularly sore spot. “You told me to tell you that I was okay.”
Huffing her annoyance, she muttered, “I didn’t tell you to lie to me about it.”
They both knew that the lie was more for her benefit than his. “Is this the point where I apologize?”
“No, this is the point where you let me help you into my car.” She slipped her hand under his armpit and gave a quick tug. He didn’t even budge. “Okay, I’m going to need your help here. You must double me in weight.”
“I’m fine.” This is what he got for getting carried away. He’d been so swept up in the feel of her that he’d ignored all the signs he’d come to recognize quite well: heightened pain, unsteady stance, blurry vision.
No better way to remind both yourself and her that you aren’t the man for her than this, he thought bitterly.
“Luke,” she was saying firmly, “you aren’t okay. Your leg collapsed.”
More like his hip gave out, but it was a moot point anyway. Snagging his cane from where it had clattered to the pavement, he muttered, “It happens.”
“Often?”
Pretty much. “Not every day,” he told her, already mentally scanning his next few movements. He’d shoot his left foot before asking her to haul his sorry ass off the ground, which left him to awkwardly rearrange his legs and shift onto all fours like a wounded animal. “I need to get home.”
He’d left a bottle of meds on the kitchen countertop. Most days Luke stayed away from the stuff, wary of finding himself in need of the painkillers to function on a daily basis. Former military personnel and painkiller addictions went together about as well as cheesecake and strawberries. He’d seen way too many good men and women succumb to relief in the form of a pill. Luke didn’t want to end up the same way.
But today, right now . . . the pain in his hip was so strong he felt as though the pins the doc had wedged into his body were on fire.
Anna’s soft hands fell to the space between his shoulder blades. “Let me drive you home.”
That was the last thing he wanted. In the span of five minutes, he’d gone from being in control to having no control of his limbs whatsoever. The idea of sitting in the passenger’s seat as she navigated the dark streets to his apartment was as close to his version of hell as it existed at the moment.
Shrugging off her touch, Luke struggled to his feet. “I’ll call a cab. You go home to Julian.”
“Julian’s with Shae and Brady. I can easily drop you off and grab him on my way home. It’s not out of the way, I promise.”
Her kindness threatened to undo him. He wanted her to be repulsed by him, or at the very least annoyed. Anna Bryce was none of those things, though. She stepped close to him, reaching up to scrape his hair back from his face in a move that felt uncomfortably familiar. “You scared about what might happen if I drive you?” She withdrew her touch and Luke felt the absurd urge to nuzzle her hand. Absurd, because he was not a nuzzler. “I promise to leave you with your innocence intact.”
His innocence? That was laughable. Luke had left his innocence somewhere in Fort Lost in the Woods, Missouri (better known as Fort Leonard Wood, home of army basic training) at the age of eighteen. “We’re not going down that road again.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Which road?”
“The one where you dare me into doing whatever it is you’re wanting.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” Luke clamped his hand down on the grip of his cane. Give him ten more minutes and he’d be out for the count again. He’d done too much today, and following Anna to her car after her date hadn’t helped matters. “I’m going to call a cab and you’re going to bring yourself home. And”—he lifted his free hand when she opened her mouth to argue—“because I won our little bet, you’re going to have to agree. Rules are rules, Blondie.”
She grumbled something under her breath.
“What was that?”
Her blue eyes narrowed on his face. “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She did not look amused. “I said that I hate playing by the rules.”
Desire hit him square in the gut. Whatever this chemistry between them was, it was dangerous to his well-being. She had no idea how close she’d come to playing with fire. “Rules come in handy,” he murmured, trying to focus on every reason why they shouldn’t finish what they’d started. “Go home, Anna.”
Fiddling with the pendants on her car keys, she averted her face from his, her blonde hair falling to shield her from his gaze. “Will you text me when you get home?”
“I’m a big boy. The wolf won’t get me tonight.”
“Please.”
She didn’t even realize that she was killing him. He didn’t deserve her worry. He didn’t deserve her kindness. Panic clawed at his chest, threatening to submerge him. The first time he’d felt anxiety like this, he’d been knee deep in mud during basic training. Artificial gunfire had ripped open above his head while Luke turned immobile in the cold-as-hell mud. His brothers-in-arms had slithered past him, grabbing handfuls of mud as they propelled themselves forward. And Luke . . . Luke had laid there wondering if he’d made the right decision.
The decision to leave his mother and his sister, the decision to leave everything he’d ever known behind. His friends had gone to college in anticipation of living four more years of debauchery and chaos. Luke had chosen a path that led nowhere but to a slice of hell. But he’d done it for his family, to give them hope, and in the end, the imagined weight of their expectations had kicked off a years-long battle with anxiety.
That same anxiety tightened his throat now. Anna wanted too much, way more than he could ever give her. Way more than he honestly knew how to give. Luke needed to put a stop to it. When she glanced his way, he didn’t want to see the hope dancing in her blue eyes.
He opened his mouth, and then rubbed a hand over his chest when no words came out.
Worry pulled at her features. “What’s the matter? It’s just a text, Luke. I didn’t ask for your firstborn son.”
The anxiety spiked and Luke scrabbled for his sanity.
She tipped her chin up, a flirtatious smile widening her lush mouth. “I’d never dare take a firstborn O’Connor. Maybe the spare though, if you get one.”
“This isn’t going anywhere. You know that, right?” He winced at the harshness of his tone, not surprised in the least when she did the same.
Her smile fell slowly, as though unwinding itself from her face for his own personal punishment at seeing her joy wipe away. “I didn’t think it was anything more than a kiss,” she said, bringing a closed fist to her chest.
Stop talking, O’Connor. “It’s not—it wasn’t. It was barely that.”
“I dared you.”
And I liked it. Lu
ke squashed the thought like a roach under his shoe. “I wouldn’t have done it if not for the dare. I’ve told you before, I’m not interested.”
Fire lit in her gaze, turning the blue into a vibrant azure that matched the Mediterranean Sea. “It certainly didn’t feel that way.” She pointedly looked at his crotch before glancing back up. “And don’t you dare say that you’d get a hard-on for any woman who rubbed herself up against you.”
Luke hadn’t had a hard-on for anyone but Blondie in months, if not almost a full year since the last time he’d seen a woman in something other than her clothes. Even his attempt the other night to rid her from his thoughts had ended with him alone in bed, watching reruns of Thick of the Woods just because it reminded him of her. Anna Bryce, the woman set on tearing down all of his walls. “It’s human biology,” he lied gruffly. “I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”
Her lips parted. “The wrong way? Is there any other way but the right way to take a man rubbing his erection against you?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” He dragged his fingers through his hair, nearly yanking the strands out of his scalp. “All I’m trying to say is, Anna, there isn’t going to be any more between us than that one kiss.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
She untangled her fist from the car keys, jabbing one sharp point of a key at his chest like a weapon. “Good.”
“Can I ask why?” He obviously had his reasons, but what were hers? “You were one second away from tearing my shirt off.”
“Two seconds, tops.” She flicked her hand to the side, thankfully pulling back the key set before she accidentally shanked him in the jugular. “And I wouldn’t take it personally. I’d have done the same to anyone. That’s what happens when you’re sex-starved.”
His cock twitched. “Are you sex-starved?”
Her shoulder lifted in a delicate shrug. “Whether I am or not doesn’t pertain to you. You’re not interested, remember?”