“I should get back to work.” She leaned forward to slip into her sneakers, only to jump when she felt Seth’s hand on her arm.
Her breath caught. She found herself going still. It had been so very easy to shrug out of that young guy’s grip in the hall, but here, with Seth, she couldn’t bring herself to push him away.
“How long are we going to fight it, Miranda?” His voice was rough, his expression darkening with what she could only describe as sinful challenge.
She gulped. Ignored the flashes of heat rippling over her flesh. “Fight what?” she asked, feigning ignorance.
He laughed, slow and deep. “You’re really gonna pretend it’s not there? The chemistry between us?”
“We don’t have chemistry.”
And yep, she was a filthy liar. She and Seth had so much chemistry they could open their own laboratory. Or teach a college science seminar. Or—
He cut into her thoughts once more. “I’ve been very patient up until now. Pretending not to notice the way your nipples get hard whenever I’m around. And how your cheeks get all flushed and sexy. And don’t get me started on the way you look at me.” His voice grew even raspier. “Those big hazel eyes of yours eat me up like I’m a big, juicy steak, baby.”
Nipples hardening? Check.
Cheeks scorching? Check.
Eating Seth Masterson up with her eyes? Well, she couldn’t tear her gaze from the sensual curve of his mouth or the strong line of his jaw, so yeah, might as well check that off too.
Even though Seth must have noticed all three responses, Miranda decided to keep playing dumb. It was the only way to maintain some semblance of control over a conversation that had swiftly and unexpectedly gotten out of hand.
“Big, juicy steak?” she echoed dryly. “Someone thinks highly of himself.”
He just laughed. “We both know you’re attracted to me.”
“Oh, we both know that, do we?”
“And I’m attracted to you,” he said with a shrug. “But unlike you, I’m not gonna bat my eyelashes like a Disney princess and act like I don’t want to get you naked.”
She swallowed again. Harder this time. Her mouth was so dry she felt like she was swallowing sand, but she didn’t dare reach for her water bottle because she knew Seth would comment and attribute her sudden thirst to the effect he had on her.
“I have to get back to work.” Wiggling out of his grasp, she stumbled to her feet.
But he was equally quick. He stood up and caught her around the waist with one muscular arm. He didn’t yank her against him, just rested one hand on the small of her back and used the other to tip her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him.
“Say the word, Miranda.”
Her heart was beating so fast she could barely hear her own voice over the frantic hammering. “What word?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?” she stammered.
He gave that mocking chuckle of his. “That’s the word—yes. And I want you to say it. I want you to give me the green light so I can finally put my hands all over you the way I’ve been fantasizing about for months now.”
“Seth…” It was meant to be a warning, but his name slipped out on a breathy whisper, sounding very much like an invitation.
“Come on, baby, I’ve been such a good boy.” His gray eyes gleamed with sex and danger. “Put us both out of our misery.”
She stared into those stormy-silver depths, feeling her resolve crumbling. Losing herself in his seductive spell. God, it had been so long since she’d had sex. So long.
He aimlessly stroked her lower back. “Miranda…” He trailed off, moistening his bottom lip with the sexy drag of his tongue, and then he leaned in close so that his lips hovered over her ear. “I want to fuck you.”
A shiver ran through her. Oh crap. Oh no, no, no. She was not allowed to get turned on.
Too late.
Okay, she was beyond turned on. The pressure between her legs was unbearable, her nipples so hard they could cut glass, her breathing completely off-kilter.
Enough. She couldn’t keep letting herself respond to this man. Seth was a bad boy to the core. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. He had no sense of decency, no filter that monitored the sarcastic or overtly sexual remarks that came out of his mouth. He wore all black and smoked cigarettes and never shaved. In other words—he was trouble.
And sure, that air of danger he radiated would have turned her on when she was a teenager, but guess what, it was the last thing she wanted nowadays. She’d already thrown her life away for one dangerous bad boy—and she’d gotten knocked up at eighteen as a reward.
The memory of Trent was all it took to banish her rising desire.
Squaring her shoulders, she pushed his hand off her waist and took a step backward. “What you want makes no difference,” she said quietly. “I won’t get involved with you.”
Resignation fluttered across his face. “What’s your reason this time?”
She set her jaw defiantly. “Same one it always is. I’m a mom.”
When he blanched slightly at the M-word, she let out a wry laugh. Oh, for Pete’s sake, why hadn’t she just led with that instead of letting this conversation drag on for far longer than necessary?
In the four months she’d known Seth, he hadn’t shown the slightest interest in her kids, and if the subject did happen to come up, he usually donned a blank look and acted indifferent to everything she said. She didn’t know why, but for Seth, children seemed to be on par with root canals and canine fashion shows, both of which he’d expressed extreme dislike for.
“I don’t have time to fool around with you,” she went on. “Or anyone, for that matter. Between raising two six-year-olds, working five days a week at the studio and part-time here at the bar, I barely have time to read the paper, let alone have sex.”
To her aggravation, Seth grinned. “That just proves how much you need me.”
“Oh really?”
“If reading a newspaper takes priority over having sex, then clearly you’ve never had your world rocked.”
“I don’t need any rocking in my world. I get motion sickness.” She laced up her sneakers, then headed for the door.
He trailed after her. “Fine, I’ll let this go. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” A rush of relief flooded her belly. Thank God. Fighting off Seth’s advances the past few months had been much harder than she’d ever admit.
“Don’t look so happy.” He smirked. “I meant I’d let it go for tonight.”
Crap. She should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
Seth blocked her path before she could open the door, running a hand through his messy hair. His hair was short, but definitely not the military cut every man in San Diego seemed to have. Black locks often fell onto his forehead and curled behind his ears, and she couldn’t count the number of times her fingers had tingled with the urge to smooth back those unruly strands.
“When’s your next shift?” he asked.
“Monday.”
“Eight to close?”
It didn’t surprise her that he knew the exact time of her shift. God knew he came to the club often enough.
“Hey, I have an idea,” she said with a big fake smile. “Maybe you can go somewhere else on Monday. The Tavern or the Sand Bar, maybe Hot Zone—ooh, there’s this new club on 4th that you might like. I heard it attracts a lot of young women looking for a good time…”
When she flashed him a how-awesome-is-that look, he simply laughed it off. “I’m not looking for a random lay. Trust me, if I wanted to get laid?” He lowered his voice to a smoky pitch and snapped his fingers. “I could get laid just like that. But see, that’s not what I’m after.”
A sigh lodged in her chest. “What are you after, Seth?”
“You.”
Equal parts arousal and irritation pleaded for her attention. Ignoring both, she released her breath and crossed her arms over her chest. Seth’s gaze immedi
ately rested on her cleavage, more pronounced now that her pose was pushing her breasts up. She promptly let her arms dangle to her sides.
“I don’t have time to play games with you,” she muttered. “I have too much on my plate at the moment, and even if I wasn’t busy, I still wouldn’t say yes. I’m a mother, first and foremost. My kids are my life.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not asking you to put the rugrats up for adoption.”
“No, you’re just asking me to pretend they don’t exist and launch myself into some whirlwind sexual affair with you. How will that even work? You’re going to sneak into my apartment after I tuck Sophie and Jason in and ravish me while they’re sleeping next door? You’ll pay for a babysitter while you and I go to some sleazy motel?” She shook her head. “For the millionth time, I’m not interested.”
He rewarded her speech with his trademark smirk. “Has anyone ever told you that you look sexy when you lie?”
“What does that even mean?” she mumbled. “Whatever. Don’t answer. In fact, don’t say another word.”
She brushed past him and yanked on the door handle. Out in the hall, the drum and bass bounced off the walls and vibrated beneath her feet. Perching her hands on her hips, she turned to scowl at Seth.
“I’m serious. Quit coming here every night. Quit hitting on me. Quit acting like being my former boss’s son gives you some kind of say in my life.”
As usual, he seemed unfazed by the rejection. Stepping closer, he brought those tempting lips to her ear again, his hot breath fanning over her skin. “See you Monday night, Miranda.”
“Seth—”
Holy crap, had he just licked the shell of her ear? He had. And now his lips were closing over her earlobe.
A jolt of pure desire hit her hard and fast. Before she could lay into him for his sheer presumption, he was moving away.
“You’ve got my cell number,” he reminded her. “Call me when you’re ready.”
When. Not if.
Presumptuous jerk.
As her heart pounded up a storm in her chest, she watched Seth stride off, angry with herself for noticing how incredible his ass looked in his black jeans. Angry at him for walking away without once looking back, while she was standing there like a slack-jawed moron, unable to take her eyes off him.
“Who was that?” The breathy female voice came from the long line in front of the ladies’ room.
Miranda met the eyes of a young blonde in a gold micromini and black halter top. “That was our resident troublemaker.”
The blonde grinned. “My kind of trouble. I’d trade my firstborn for even ten minutes with that hottie.”
A few of the other women in line overheard the remark and laughed, but Miranda only managed a weak smile. Being around Seth Masterson was utterly exhausting. She was forever on guard, waiting for his next seductive ambush, steeling herself against the sexual magnetism he possessed in spades.
You have a problem, Miranda Rose Breslin.
She totally did, didn’t she? Why was she always attracted to bad boys? Those kinds of men were all well and good in the movies, but in real life you had a better chance of teaching a dog to send an email than taming a bad boy.
She needed to do something about this silly schoolgirl attraction, pronto. Maybe she ought to lock herself in her bedroom tonight and put her vibrator to good use. A few orgasms and she’d be thinking, Seth who?
Seth Masterson, that’s who, and you’re an idiot if you think your battery-operated boyfriend will make you forget it.
Oh for the love of…was that Seth’s voice in her head?
Wonderful. The man was already shadowing her at work. Haunting her dreams. Starring in her fantasies. And now he was narrating her damn thoughts.
How on earth was she supposed to vanquish this attraction when even her own subconscious was against her?
With another sigh, Miranda headed back to the main floor of the club. And prayed that the deafening dance beat would pound all thoughts of Seth right out of her head.
2
Seth had never felt more on edge as he stalked into the dark townhouse he shared with Dylan Wade. Seeing Miranda on a nightly basis was absolute torture, and tonight had been particularly brutal. Probably because it was the closest he’d ever come to battering through her defenses. He’d seen her pulse jumping in her throat when he’d told her he wanted her. Heard her intake of breath. Witnessed the haze of arousal in her eyes.
She could deny it all she wanted, but Seth knew when a woman was hot for him. And this one was. Big-time.
Which was a damn good thing, because he was hot for her too. He’d wanted Miranda Breslin from the second he’d laid eyes on her. They may have officially met four months ago when he helped her move into her new apartment, but he’d already been lusting over the woman for more than a year by then.
First time he’d seen her was backstage at the Paradise, which he pretty much considered his second home. Miranda had been sitting at a vanity table while a makeup artist hovered over her. She’d worn an elaborate costume studded with blue jewels and adorned with peacock feathers. The leotard-like outfit had offered a lot of cleavage and emphasized her long, shapely legs, made even longer and shapelier thanks to her sheer silver stockings and high-heeled dance shoes. She’d yet to put on her feathered headdress, so her long sable-brown hair had been slicked back in a tight bun, drawing his attention to her high cheekbones and intriguing features.
In that moment, Seth had never encountered a more appetizing sight. And yeah, maybe coming off a six-month-long deployment had intensified the punch of lust he’d experienced, but here he was, a year and a half later, and he still hadn’t come close to meeting a woman who turned him on as much as Miranda did.
“You struck out, huh?”
He nearly jumped out of his own skin when the deep male voice cut through the silence of the house. He flicked the light switch in the kitchen to find his roommate leaning against the L-shaped counter.
As Seth’s heartbeat steadied, Dylan nonchalantly sipped his glass of water like he had no care in the world.
He also had no stitch of clothing on.
Dylan’s naked body was neither new nor off-putting—Seth had seen enough of it after three years of living with the guy, not to mention all those times they’d tag-teamed chicks. Without batting an eye, he stalked past the blond SEAL and opened the fridge door.
“Judging by the silence, you struck out hard,” Dylan remarked, unconcealed amusement in his voice. “Don’t you think it might be time to give up?”
“Never.” He grabbed a bottle of water and twisted off the cap.
“What is it about that woman that gets your panties in a knot, man?”
He wasn’t in the mood to be harassed, not when his cock ached so badly he could barely stay upright, but just as he was about to offer a sarcastic response, he noticed the genuine curiosity in Dylan’s green eyes. Huh. Weird.
Instead of snapping, Seth simply shrugged. “She yells at me a lot. I kinda dig it.”
Dylan burst out laughing. “I’m not sure what to do with that.”
“Plus, she’s hot as hell. Smart as a whip. Tough as nails. Doesn’t take crap from anyone, especially me.”
And apparently capable of turning him into a sappy loser who stood around at two in the fucking morning, listing his favorite qualities about a woman.
Dylan set his empty glass in the sink. “Is this a mommy complex thing?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I was watching that new talk show today, the one with those two dorky therapists who wear matching glasses. They did a whole segment about men having this subconscious need to marry their mothers. Well, not their mothers, but, you know, chicks who remind them of their moms.”
Seth grinned. “I thought we decided you weren’t gonna watch that crap anymore.”
“I know, but ever since Oprah went off the air, there’s shit-all on TV during the day. I was bored as fuck today.”
>
“You poor thing.”
“Anyway, it was interesting. And it totally applies to you. Mom’s a showgirl, your new crush is a showgirl…”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a crush. It’s lust. I want to get her into bed. End of story.”
“Whatever you say.” Dylan strode toward the oak cabinets over the sink, opened one and started rummaging around.
“Besides, Miranda is nothing like my mother. They’re both dancers, but their personalities couldn’t be more different.”
Hell, if Miranda had Missy Masterson’s personality, Seth would run in the opposite direction. He loved his mom to death, but the woman was loud, flighty, and had no tact. She belonged on one of those reality shows where the women got very noisy and said things like “talk to the hand, bee-otch”.
But despite her scatterbrained nature and garish sense of style, Missy was a good mother, a ferocious lioness when it came to her cub, and that loyalty and maternal pride extended to the dancers she now trained, Miranda included.
When his mom phoned and demanded he keep an eye on Miranda, Seth’s first thought had been hell yeah. Moving to a new city was tough, and he’d been more than ready to show Miranda some Southern California hospitality. Helping her unpack some boxes, taking her out to a dinner or two, and then, if they happened to wind up in bed…well, he sure wouldn’t be complaining. Except there was one thing he hadn’t banked on—her stubborn determination to resist his advances.
And he also hadn’t anticipated the baggage she came with.
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas Page 2