Game for Trouble

by Karen Erickson

  “Sounds fine to me.” She opened the car door and climbed out, bending down so she could look at him. “You could apologize, you know.”

  “What if I’m not sorry?” He rubbed his hand over his cheek, contemplating her. She looked ready to say something—probably something mean—but she clamped her lips shut at the last minute and slammed the door.

  She stalked up the sidewalk toward her front door, those womanly hips swaying, the curve of her ass in those tight jeans driving him wild. He’d chase after her if he was ensured a hot night of creative sex.

  Tonight, he was done chasing.

  Willow unlocked the door and opened it, pausing on the threshold. Frowning, he waited for her next move before he pulled away from the curb. He wasn’t about to leave until he knew for sure she was in her house safely.

  He was a gentleman like that. Not that Willow much appreciated it.

  Slowly, she turned to look at him, her face cast in shadow from the dim front porch light she left on. He couldn’t see her, had no idea what her expression was, but she seemed to be waiting.

  For what?

  She gestured at him, making circles in the air with her index finger, and he rolled down the passenger side window, leaning across the center console so he could yell at her. “What’s your deal, Cavanaugh?”

  “Why haven’t you left?” she asked.

  “I’m making sure no serial killers are lurking in your house.” Jesus, the woman questioned every single step he made.

  “You really think there would be more than one serial killer lurking?”

  That was it. That was fucking it. He put his car into park, shut off the engine, and pocketed the keys, sliding out of the car so he could stalk up the sidewalk much like she had only seconds ago, stopping so he stood directly in front of her, his hands on his hips, his frustration mounting to near inexplicable levels. “You enjoying this even more now that I’m fighting back?”

  “Want me to be honest?”

  “Always,” he said, nervous as hell to hear what she might say.

  She hooked her fingers into the fabric of his sweater and drew him close. He nearly tripped on his own feet, he was so shocked by the sudden move. “Yes,” she breathed before she stood up on tiptoe and kissed him.

  Chapter Five

  God, he tasted so good. He could kiss all the sense right out of her mind and she wouldn’t protest. Couldn’t protest, either, since her voice had completely left her.

  Nick could steal her ability to speak merely with his lips and a few strokes of his tongue.

  Angry Nick was a sexy Nick, and she could never admit this to anyone, especially him, but his shitty behavior had turned her on. When he bit her lip? She’d been equal parts shocked and aroused.

  Oh, who was she kidding? The bite had been hot. His terse words, hotter. The angry look on his face? Hotter than hot. Her panties were wet, her entire body tense and edgy, screaming for him to touch her.

  He still wouldn’t touch her. Oh, they were lip-locked, but his hands weren’t on her.

  She desperately wanted those hands on her.

  “Come inside with me,” she murmured against his decadent mouth when she broke the kiss, licking at his parted lips.

  “Is this some sort of trick?” He stepped away from her, his mouth damp, his expression wary.

  “No.” She shook her head. She couldn’t take it any longer. They’d danced around this for too long. Tonight, she would have him. She should be furious at herself for giving in so quickly. Date one of their eight-date deal and she was practically begging him to come inside so they could get naked together.

  Shameful, hussy-like behavior, but she didn’t care. When was the last time she had an orgasm with a man? Oh, a little self-satisfaction took care of things when she was feeling needy, but she honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex with a man and came.

  Without a doubt, she knew Nick would give her an orgasm. Multiple orgasms.

  All she had to do was ask.

  “One minute you’re mad at me, and now you’re asking me to come inside?”

  Oh, that sounded deliciously dirty to her newfound filthy mind. “Yes, Nick. I am most definitely asking you to come. Inside.” She put extra emphasis on the last two words.

  A single dark brow rose, and he shook his head, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t trust you.”

  “What?”

  “I said I don’t trust you.” He watched her, his gaze running down her body slow and easy, like he had all the time in the world. Whereas she felt like she would combust if she didn’t get him in her house and in her bed at this very minute.

  “Why don’t you trust me?” And having this conversation while they were standing on her front porch? Even more bizarre.

  “I’ll walk inside, I’ll get a little too eager and slide my hand up your shirt or in your panties, and then you’ll tell me to get out.” He scuffed his foot at the concrete like a little kid. “I’m not sure I want to take that risk.”

  His words made her want to squirm. At the very least, press her thighs together to stave off the ache that bloomed between her legs. “I won’t say no.”

  He made a scoffing sound. “This game we’re playing is sick and twisted.”

  “I sort of like it.” The minute the words left her mouth, she slapped her hand over it, wishing she could take them back.

  His eyes widened the slightest bit. “You drunk, Will?”

  She dropped her hand as she slowly shook her head.

  “Exhausted? Not feeling right? I know I interrupted your nap earlier.”

  “I feel perfectly rested.” Anxious and antsy for some naked man flesh, but she didn’t want to admit that little tidbit.

  “So what else could explain the sudden change in opinion? One minute I’m lower than the shit on the bottom of your shoe and the next you’re ready to get it on like Donkey Kong.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “You make no damn sense, woman.”

  “Stop trying to figure me out and come here.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him into her house, slamming the door and then pushing him up against it. Pinning him there in the foyer with her hands pressed against his broad chest, she gave him a little shove. “I swear you’re twice the size you were the last time we were together like this.”

  “A man gets older, he gets a little bigger.” Nick shrugged, his head bent so he could meet her gaze. “You are a complete contradiction, you know that?”

  She licked her lips and drifted her hands down his front, pushing them up and under his sweater with one quick movement, making connection with hard, bare skin. His lids fluttered at first contact, and triumph surged through her.

  “Your abs are inhuman,” she whispered, tracing the delineated muscles with her fingers. “Are you even real?”

  “I am one hundred percent real.” He reached beneath his sweater and grabbed hold of her wrists, pulling them out. “If you can prove to me that you won’t kick me out after about ten minutes of teasing, then I might let you get real up close and personal with my abs.”

  She pouted, struggling against his hold. “Ten minutes? That’s a long time to have to wait.”

  “It’ll be worth it, and you know it. The two of us naked, tangled in the sheets…we’re good together.”

  His words were like a bucket of ice dumped over her head. What was she doing? Nick was in her house. Looking at her like he wanted to get her naked in two hot minutes. And those two minutes he stripped her would undoubtedly be the hottest of her life.

  Yeah. Scary. She was being ridiculous. She needed to get this man out of her house before she did something really crazy.

  Like jump him.

  “You need to go.” She tugged out of his grip and stepped away from him. He was still leaning against the wall, looking at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  Awesome, because she was pretty sure she had lost her mind.

  “What? You’re not acting like you.” He ran a hand thr
ough his hair, his jaw tense. He was sexy when he was frustrated. “All this push and pull is confusing as hell, Will.”

  She ignored him. Refused to let that soulful tone get to her. He sounded totally perplexed, and it was sort of cute. But she didn’t want cute. She wanted him gone.

  “Tell me all about it. Thanks for a great date.” She smiled, waiting for him to get the hint and walk out the door.

  But he didn’t.

  “Text me and let me know what the plans are for the next one,” she reminded him sweetly.

  He cocked a brow at her, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and didn’t say a word.

  “Are you being dense on purpose?” Her voice went shrill and rose a notch. God, she hated that. It reminded her of her mother and how she used to rant about her dad—about any man in her life.

  Not that she had a lot of memories about her mom. Their relationship had always been…distant. And that was putting it politely.

  “I sort of like it when you insult me,” he said, his voice that smooth, honey drawl that always got to her, no matter how much she tried to fight it. “Makes me think you just might care.”

  “Argh!” She marched straight toward him and grabbed the door handle, trying to nudge him away with a push of her shoulder, but that was like trying to move a brick wall. “Move.”

  He gazed down at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You gotta say the magic word.”

  “Move now.” Her voice dropped to its deadliest.

  “You don’t scare me.” Nick reached out and touched her cheek, his fingers drifting across her skin. “You think I don’t remember how defensive you get when you’re nervous? I get it, darlin’. I really do.”

  She stood there glaring at him. So close she could feel his body heat, his warm breath fluttering across her cheek. “You don’t know me.”

  “Oh, I do.” He bent his head, his mouth right at her ear, low and husky and deliciously sexy. “Better than you think.”

  He reached out and settled his hand over hers, where it rested on the door handle and she gave a little mutter of surprise, slipping her hand away. With a smile curving those too-tempting lips, he pushed off from the door, opened it, and walked out without another word, closing it behind him.

  She collapsed on the couch and leaned back against it, resting her hand over her chest. The man was trying to kill her. Give her a heart attack. If it was her time to go, the least she deserved was an amazing orgasm. And he hadn’t even delivered that, the jackass.

  Men. They were all the same.

  …

  Plenty of women were flat out crazy. Nick knew this, had encountered lots of psycho chicks since he became a superstar on his high school football team. They came with the territory and where once he’d been overwhelmed and unsure how to handle them, now for the most part he brushed them off and went on his way.

  He knew for a fact Willow wasn’t a psycho chick. But tonight, for whatever reason, she’d done a complete one-eighty and was acting like…

  A nut job. A sexy as hell nut job but damn, she was making his head spin.

  It’s why he had to leave. If he’d stayed in her house, with her so close to him he could smell her for just a minute longer, he might’ve done something he regretted.

  Like get Willow naked, fuck her senseless, then eventually deal with the guilt and the ranting tirade from her. She’d get him for breaking the agreement or some such shit and then he’d have to give up this entire plan.

  So he walked. It took all the strength he had inside him to go but, yep, he’d walked right out of her house after she’d kissed him. Hell, she basically implied she’d let him do anything he wanted to her.

  And he still left.

  He strode out to his car and hit the keyless remote, throwing himself into the driver’s seat like a man hell-bent on escape. For once he wished his new car had the standard key in the ignition versus the push button start. It would’ve felt real good, twisting that key so hard the engine would roar to life, the sound blocking out all his troubles.

  Instead he started the car like a wimp, pushing the button with his index finger, throwing the car out of park and pulling away from the curb.

  Fuck a duck, he needed to buy a vintage car with a V-8 engine and a badass paint job, just so he could have a vehicle that made him feel like a man when he drove it.

  What the hell did you do? Hand that woman your balls when you raced out of her house with your tail between your legs?

  Nick shoved the shitty thought out of his head and hit a speed dial button on the screen in his car’s dashboard. The phone rang and rang until Jared finally answered.

  “It is way too late for your bullshit,” Jared muttered in greeting, his voice filling the interior of the car.

  “Nice to talk to you too.” Nick sighed and swiped a hand over his face. Thank God for Bluetooth. “I need your advice.”

  “What?”

  Nick ignored his question. “How do I make a woman like me?”

  “Are you serious?” Jared burst out laughing. “I thought all the women were wanting you now that I’m off the market.”

  “Arrogant ass.” Nick chuckled. “I’m talking about one woman in particular. We went out on a date and she kicked me out of her house.”

  “Okay,” Jared said slowly. “I’m guessing you’re talking about Willow? The woman you should avoid like the plague, since she essentially hates your guts? I think you should be glad she kicked you out.”

  “Yep. Willow. And there’s no way I can avoid her. It’s too late. I gotta have her.” He should’ve never called his friend. Then Jared would tell Sheridan and Sheridan would tell Willow and he’d be in a world of hurt.

  With the way his cock still throbbed beneath his fly, maybe it didn’t matter. He was in a world of hurt regardless.

  “I told you she needed to get laid,” Jared said, sounding exasperated. “Why didn’t you use some of that Hamilton charm and get her into bed?”

  Willow isn’t like other women. She doesn’t fall for the charm, the drawl, the swagger. It doesn’t matter how badly I want her.

  She doesn’t want me back.

  Nick could hear rustling, a soft feminine murmur in the background before the phone was quite clearly taken out of Jared’s hand and Sheridan’s voice came over the speaker. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, Nick.”

  “You aren’t supposed to know any of this. You’ll just tell her I called.” Misery coursed through him. He couldn’t get this right with Willow no matter how hard he tried. He was sweet to her, and she wanted to kick his ass. He was rude to her, and she wanted to kick his ass. The woman had him coming and going, and he never knew where he was supposed to be next.

  It was frustrating as all get out.

  “I won’t tell her. I promise! I’m on your side,” Sheridan said firmly. “This thing with Willow, you need to take it slow. You need to woo her.”

  “Are you serious?” He remembered how it had been with Willow the first time around. Hot and passionate and sexy and spontaneous. He’d never wooed her once. Just kissed her, slipped his hand into her panties, and bingo. They were going at it, no problem.

  But they were younger then. Things change. Needs change. More than anything, he wanted to be exactly what Willow needed.

  “Dead serious,” Sheridan said firmly. “You can do this, Hamilton. I believe in you.”

  “You do?” he asked weakly.

  “Definitely. I believe in you, I believe in Willow, and I really, really believe the two of you will make a great couple. Just…don’t rush her. If she rushes you, it’s just her way of proving, that, hey, look! All he wants from me is an easy lay. I mean nothing to him,” Sheridan explained. “Prove her wrong. Show her you want more than that.”

  “I do want more than that,” he said firmly, hope rising within him. Damn, Sheridan was pretty good with the inspirational speech. He wondered if Jared gave her pointers.

  “Good. I figured you did. Trust me, I understand her
. She needs a man as strong as she is. All those wimpy guys she dated in the past, they weren’t worthy of her,” Sheridan said.

  He couldn’t stand the thought of Willow with any dude, wimpy or not. “You’re damn right they weren’t.”

  Sheridan actually giggled. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. And know that I’m in your corner, cheering you on.”

  “Hey Sheridan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Tell your man he’s a lucky bastard.” Sheridan burst into laughter and Nick joined in with her. “And thank you.”

  “Any time.”

  Chapter Six

  “It looks fabulous, Willow. I can’t believe how much you’ve done in such a short amount of time.” Sheridan glanced around the big room, surprise written all over her face. “I bet you’re so excited to start actually packaging everything in here. I know it’s been a pain, trying to manage your business in your house. Now you have so much space.”

  Willow nodded enthusiastically, running her hand along one of the giant supply tables she’d recently had delivered. “I’m beyond excited. Tomorrow we start production. This weekend has been insane. Did I tell you? I worked a bachelorette party last night that was held in a suite at the Plaza, and I made what felt like a bazillion cotton candy cocktails. I have never seen so many crazed drunk women in one small room in all my life.”

  It had been fun. So many women had asked for her business card, she’d almost run out. Her father had just asked her when she talked to him on the phone earlier this morning why she was the one who made the drinks. Couldn’t any old bartender do the same thing she was doing?

  His words had felt like a personal insult. No. Not any old bartender could do what she did. She not only made the cotton candy from scratch, she made the drinks too. The business was hers. All hers. Besides, she didn’t have the money to hire out a huge staff to help her.

  Yet.

  Sheridan laughed. “Sounds like fun. What else did you do?”

  “Did set-up in here all weekend.” True. Brought a little TV with her too so she could watch the Hawks game. They won. Nick scored one touchdown and almost made a second when someone from the opposing team shoved him, and he stepped out of bounds. He’d been angry. She saw it written all over his gorgeous face.