“I think you’re confusing admiration with trepidation. That’s fear you’re hearing.”
Piper scoffed.
“Piper, those actresses play characters that would torch a guy’s car if he forgot their pet’s birthday. They’d kill him if he forgot theirs.”
“But no one would dare underestimate them, would they?” And there it was. Oops.
“I don’t imagine people would let their guard down around them, either,” Red pointed out.
“Which means, by extrapolation,” Piper replied, “That they can let their guard down around cute and nice women. Because those women are safe. Guaranteed not to make a scene, guaranteed to be passive. Sort of like doormats.”
“So, you think stormy women aren’t to be taken lightly?” Red bit out.
“Correct.”
“I see.” Red’s eyes were turbulent, boring into hers with an intensity that made Piper swallow hard. “While we’re here, why don’t you tell me about the sex appeal part of this equation of yours.”
She wanted to stand firm, but her eyes darted cagily away. Damn it. “What do you mean?”
“Piper, you just cited two women that represent a passionate, over-the-top stereotype. That may appeal to some men, but it isn’t the gold standard. There are other tastes out there. Other appetites.” Red’s fingers flexed into the meat of her hips.
Her voice came out shaky when she joked, “I know. Like those trophy wives who look like Barbies.”
Red shuddered. “Ew. No.”
“Tall, hot-tempered redheads?”
“For crying out loud,” he complained, getting vexed. “Are you going to enumerate every kind of woman but yourself? Putting aside the fact that those are all stereotypical tropes that may or may not resemble real human beings.”
WHEN WAS THE last time Red had engaged in pillow talk that included words like extrapolation and tropes? Never, that was when.
He tightened his arms around Piper. She gave him a charge, that was for damn sure. She was the most unexpected person he’d ever met, and maybe that was why he found her flare of insecurity so damn amusing.
This was the exact opposite of the dirty scene of acquiescence he’d been envisioning all day. It was, however, a lot more engaging.
“White bread and doormats have no sex appeal whatsoever,” she muttered. Luckily, she stopped short of adding, and neither do I.
Red dropped backward on the couch, bringing Piper with him. She didn’t bat an eye when he propped himself on the pillows, keeping her warm, wonderful body draped over his.
“Good thing you are neither of those things.”
Piper laid her head on his shoulder with a disbelieving, “Hmph.”
He lifted her chin, so she’d look at him again. “Do you think I underestimate you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then, do you think I only want you because I believe you’re meek and docile?”
Piper remained mute. Her lovely brandy eyes shimmered. Fuck.
“What’s really going on here, Piper?” he asked.
“I can’t tell you.”
“You can tell me anything, little dove. Always. I want you to. I want to know it all.”
“I don’t…” she hesitated, then shook her head. “You won’t look at me the same.”
“Piper, in case you haven’t noticed, I look at you like I want to take a bite of you. I look at you like I want to tear your clothes off and fuck you senseless.”
At least that got a small, lopsided smile out of her. “No one else has ever done that,” she told him. “I don’t want to give it up yet.”
Yet? “You don’t have to. But I wish you’d tell me what this is really about.”
She groaned. “Fine. You know what? Fine. You think I haven’t dated men before who found out I was an erotic romance author, and then expected me to be some kind of porn star in the sack? I’m not, though. I’m just a regular person. And…not a very experienced one, at that. I haven’t done most of the things I’ve written about. I just…have a good imagination, that’s all.”
“That is true,” Red agreed. Piper’s imagination was epic.
“It’s exhausting trying to date with the weight of all those expectations on me. When you started trying to do all this dominant/submissive stuff with me, I…”
Red held his breath and waited for her to go on, feeling like an anvil was about to drop on his head.
“…I figured it was the same old song and dance. Kyle was always telling me what a dud I was—what a disappointment. I can’t do that again.”
“Piper,” he said, dismayed, “The way I feel about you has nothing whatsoever to do with your profession. I’m attracted to you because you are a beautiful woman, inside and out, not because you can write a sex scene like it’s your superpower.”
“But…”
“Listen. In the past, I have done some of that BDSM stuff, it’s true. I thought it would be fun to try it with you, but I don’t need it to be happy. I only want you to be…you. That’s plenty for me. That’s all I want.”
And, with a shock, Red realized it was true. That elusive extra zing that he’d always hunted for in relationships wasn’t, in fact, some trendy bit of kink like he’d thought. It was an even rarer prize, that once-in-a-lifetime, needle in the haystack. It was simply…Piper.
This woman, in all her maddening, adorable, impossible glory, was the one he’d spent a lifetime searching for. She was everything he needed and everything he wanted.
Red was in love with Piper Mae Fulham. She’d never believe it. Hell, he barely could. But suddenly, anything and everything that had come before her was meaningless, and Red was wrecked. Completely.
He grinned up at her. “Now, will you get on your knees? It’s been fourteen days and six hours since I felt your mouth on my cock. I’m almost positive I’m dying.”
A startled laugh burst out of her. “After that pep talk? You bet your sweet ass I will.”
RED WOKE UP at dawn to an overarching feeling of Otherness. He blinked slowly, letting awareness descend by degrees until he realized what was different, what was new. Piper. Piper was there, curled next to him, asleep in her bed.
The sheet was tucked between her knees—she must’ve gotten hot sometime during the night. Weak bars of sunlight fell across the lower half of her. She was so beautiful it hurt.
Red rose carefully and used the bathroom, then stood and watched her some more. Piper stretched across her side of the bed like one of her cats in a warm square of sunshine. Her faded, old t-shirt was riding up her hip, revealing the waistband of her loose pajama bottoms. Soft cotton, pastel…paisley. Simple and feminine, just like Piper. Soft like her, too.
Despite how overtly unsexy she ought to look in that get-up, there was something so unguarded and intimate about her like this. Something private, only for him. That, coupled with his feelings for her, made it erotic in the extreme.
She had one knee pulled up toward her stomach. Her arms were tucked close, her two fists nestled under her chin. Piper’s face was relaxed and serene. Red took it as a compliment.
He’d noticed she didn’t sleep nearly as well here at her house as she did at his. Here, she tossed and turned, waking often, and dreaming often, her expressions changing even in sleep. Piper talked in her sleep here, too—urgent, unintelligible syllables that hinted at distress.
Red had no idea what could be bothering her enough to invade her sleep like that. Well…maybe he did. Water from pipes. Water from windows. Big, domineering men with crass desires and tyrannical attitudes.
Gingerly, he slipped into the bed behind her. Piper’s body fit into the cradle of his like she’d been made for exactly that purpose. Red stroked his hand down her leg and spread his palm across the top of her thigh, feeling the strong muscle under the soft cotton. The back of her thigh curved delectably upward toward her heart-stopping ass.
To his eternal joy, Piper was like that all over—taut and firm and overlaid with a sweet softnes
s that thoroughly destroyed him. She wasn’t wiry and hard like she lived in a gym. Piper looked like she would feel spectacular against a man’s body, wonderful under his hands—an exquisite counterpoint to all those hard, male contours and angles.
And Red was the lucky son-of-a-bitch who could attest that the visual impression was one hundred percent accurate.
Piper’s hair tickled his face, and his throat got tight when he caught the delicate scent of it. The odd combination of tenderness and lust that kept swamping him in unexpected moments like these was beginning to feel familiar. Comforting.
He wanted to whisper things to her in a secret language only they shared, imparting confidences that weren’t for the consumption of others. Impossible things like trust me and I love you. But if Piper knew what Red knew, she wouldn’t do either.
He laid there feeling her breathing, watching the room get brighter and warmer with each passing minute. He wanted to freeze time. Too soon, Piper would wake up. Red would probably act overbearing and try to fix things he had no business interfering with. Piper would misunderstand, be offended, and speculate about his motives.
If she only knew.
Had she ever been able to rely on the people in her life? Red wondered how often she’d been let down. It seemed like the only viable explanation for Piper’s occasional flashes of self-deprecation.
He wasn’t surprised to learn that Piper had once been engaged. It made perfect sense that some man—probably several men—had wanted her that much. What Red couldn’t fathom was why the asshole who’d won her hadn’t been clear on the gift he’d been given. And whatever that knucklehead Kyle had done to Piper, she still carried a shadow in her eyes from it.
And much as Red wished he was different, he was likely no better.
He wanted to erase her hurts. He wanted to be the one Piper counted on, wanted to prove to her that his words were true. Red wanted her to entrust him with her whole heart, her deepest thoughts, her gorgeous soul and her beautiful body. He wanted her to want him back.
But as long as he kept his gnawing, impossible secret about Trident, Red would have to be a bigger joker than Kyle to expect any of those things. As it was, it was going to be a close call whether Red could fix it all and sell the result to Piper in a way she’d accept.
He must have been clutching her a little tighter than he’d thought. Piper stirred in his arms, battling into consciousness. She went rigid for half a second, then melted gratifyingly back into him with a languid, happy sigh.
Last night, Red had explained to her about Eric Whittier. The dude was as jazzed to tackle Piper’s project as Red had ever seen someone. An old farmhouse like hers, with great bones and an owner with impeccable taste? Eric had sounded like he was in heaven.
With Red footing the bill, Eric probably knew he’d have carte blanche to do things right. And Piper wouldn’t have to count on a single royalty—embezzled or otherwise—to fix up her grandparents’ home.
The problem was, Piper hadn’t exactly been thrilled.
Red had intended to unleash Eric on Piper this week, before he returned home. Now, he wondered if she’d even let him.
It wasn’t like he was trying to buy Piper a new car, not yet. Red hadn’t even asked her if she had any bills that he could pay off for her. All he was trying to do was take care of this one thing—this thing that he knew meant so much to her. But Piper Mae Fulham wanted no part of Red’s largesse, and she was being nearly as stubborn as himself about it.
How many times in the past had it rankled, when a woman he’d just met was intent on spending his money for him? Piper never seemed to want a dime from him. It ought to be depressing that she was in such a minority. Instead, Red was too busy feeling irritated that she had once again managed to sidestep what he wanted.
It figured. The one time Red tried to throw around his money with a woman, it was the exact wrong thing to do. Somewhere, the deity in charge of balancing karmic scales had to be laughing their ass off right now.
If Red took a gamble and forced the issue, he risked ruining everything between them. Sadly, that was becoming a recurrent theme.
Piper mumbled a muffled, “Good morning,” and stretched against him.
Predictably, Red’s body roared to life. He kissed the side of her neck. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a rock.” She sounded so content. He hated to rock the boat. “I have a question,” Piper said.
Red smiled, loving the way her brain worked. It often picked up right where it’d left off, hours—or even days—earlier. “Proceed.”
“Why are you trying to do all this? With the house, I mean?”
The secret hanging between them made Red feel abruptly, achingly, ill. He reviewed all the possible answers to Piper’s question that did not include the words guilty or conscience and eventually settled on the simplest version of the truth.
“It makes me feel useful. I like it. I want to be useful to you.”
Piper rolled over to face him. She was less annoyed than she’d been last night, which was good. She also looked more curious, though, and that was decidedly not good.
“You don’t think you’re useful to me without the money?” Real amusement crinkled the bridge of her nose and the corners of her eyes.
Was he? What else did Red have to offer, anyway? He was kind of a pain in the ass.
Piper picked right up on his uncertainty. Before he could blink, she was grinning with mischief and dragging her fingers straight down his stomach, stopping only when she hit the waistband of his pajama bottoms. She curled her fingers just under the edge but didn’t dip lower.
“Are you seriously implying that your entire utility to me is in your bank account? That would make me awfully craven, wouldn’t it?”
Red laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was such a Piper thing to say. When she uttered things like that, as if they were the most normal thing to say in the world, it gave him the weirdest, warmest joy.
“If it’s not the money,” he growled, “Then you must be using me for my body.”
He spread her arms wide and pinned them over her head in an instant, his body pressing hers into the mattress. Piper shrieked and giggled a little, in that cute way she had.
“How do I know you aren’t using me for my body?” she demanded, breathless.
Red took her tender earlobe between his teeth, then nipped at her neck—eliciting another, louder yelp.
“Oh, I’ll use the hell out of you, sweetheart. Whenever I want. What do you have to say about that?” He flexed his hips, enjoying Piper’s sudden inhale when he made sweet, sweet contact.
His body was beginning to take over the proceedings, and Red still hadn’t told her the rest of his plan like he needed to.
“I’m down with that.” Piper wrapped her legs around his hips and tugged on her hands. “You aren’t going to try tying me up again, are you?”
Cheeky little woman. “No. I love to feel your hands on me.” Red released her, and she stroked his back.
“And I love to touch you,” she murmured.
His control was slipping. Quickly.
“There’s something else,” he managed.
“What?” Piper was hot and soft beneath him, her voice sweetly concerned.
“Eric—I talked to Eric,” he gritted out, attention almost totally diverted by the t-shirt he was working up her ribcage. “He thought it would be better if you moved out for a couple months.”
THIRTY
“MOVED OUT? OF my house?” Piper yelped, abruptly flipping from amorous to alarmed.
“Just for a little while. Eric’s crew will operate faster if they don’t have to work around you. And you and your little furry friends will be a lot more comfortable not having to deal with all that noise and mess.”
“But where—”
“I looked around and found a nice condo about ten minutes from you. If you want, we could go see it.” Red had agonized over the various options, determined to find the perfect place. Eric
had already looked at it, too, and said he could have it ready for Piper by the end of the month.
Maybe she’d hate it, though. Maybe Red didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.
“You found…already?” she stuttered out. Her sleepy brain was clearly struggling to catch up and process this new information. “What’s the rent like?”
Piper’s eyes were wide and dancing around his features, taking in every available cue of expression and body language while she tried to unravel this development.
Red set a gentle kiss on her forehead. “No rent,” he admitted. “If you like it, I’ll buy it as an investment, and probably flip it next year.”
“I—oh.”
“It’s okay if you don’t, though. We’ll find you something else that you like better. If that’s what you want to do.”
Last night, Piper had made her position quite clear. Now she just looked bewildered.
“Tell you what,” Red said, pressing ahead. “Why don’t we have some breakfast, and I’ll show you the photos Eric and I took. Then you’ll have more information while you think about it. How’s that sound?”
Red forced himself to back off, rolling away from her and propping himself up against the headboard. He tried to look as non-threatening as possible, a task made infinitely more difficult by how much goddamn space he seemed to take up in her bed.
Piper sprang upright immediately. Red watched her t-shirt fall back down with real regret and wondered if he’d ever get his fill of this woman.
THEY RECONVENED OVER coffee and bacon and eggs at the wood table in the kitchen. Piper tried to look aloof when Red showed her the photos on his phone, but she was too transparent to disguise the gleam of interest in her eyes.
Nonetheless, it was obvious she still had doubts. Red tried not to push, even though it went against all his instincts. Any coaxing he attempted now would only make him look less trustworthy to her, not more.
He was impatient, however. By the end of breakfast, Red couldn’t help asking, “So? What do you think?”
The Titan Was Tall (Triple Threat Book 1) Page 31