Breaking the Bachelor (Entangled Lovestruck) (Smart Cupid)

by Maggie Kelley

  The man didn’t have to tell her twice. Key in the lock, she twisted the doorknob and together they stumbled into the dimly lit hallway. Charlie pulled the keys from the lock, tossed them onto the floor and kicked the door closed with one foot. With their mouths entwined, she unzipped his black leather jacket and tugged it off his broad shoulders and away from the muscle of his arms until the coat joined her keys on the hardwood. He drew back and eased the still unbuttoned cardigan over her shoulders to reveal the swells beneath the pink lace bra. She glanced at him from under her lashes and smiled.

  “Let me look at you,” he said.

  In one deft movement, he unsnapped the front closure to reveal the sensitive, bare skin of her breasts to his heated gaze. She felt his body harden in response to the view and the look in his eyes at the sight of her aching breasts sent her heart racing. Her nipples pebbled as his gaze traveled her curves with such passionate intensity, she might come right there while he drank in the sight of her. He groaned with utter male appreciation and drew her closer, letting his hands roam her body, the inlet of her hips, and the soft rise of her breasts. He inched her body closer, fingers at the edge of her jeans, but she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. Not just yet. She had other temptations in mind for Charlie.

  “Wait. Let me.” Her fingers stilled the movement of his hands and she slid down to the floor in front of him. A soft glint of want burned in her eyes as her gaze covered the distance of his muscled hips and thighs. “You never should have worn these Levis.” She unbuckled his belt and pulled down the zipper of his jeans, freeing the hard length of him. A smile melted across her face. Commando. So, he’d been confident about winning their little game of strip bowling. She let go a long, low sigh. “I don’t call you ‘big guy’ for nothing, Charlie.”

  She let her palm graze the rough hair running from his six-pack abs straight to the Promised Land. A ferocious kick of anticipation made her weak with desire. Her craving for him was so intense she felt dizzy, and no rational thought, no statistical margin of error held the power to obscure her longing to have him, to please him, to see his body shake as she took him into her mouth. An urgent tidal wave of dangerous need took over. She was desperate to feel his hard cock in her hand, to taste him, to own him for the night.

  Wild, rather than safe. Uncontrolled, rather than predictable.

  Sometimes winning big meant playing the long shot.

  After pulling off his boots, she dragged the soft, broken-in denims over his ass and down his powerful thighs, allowing her fingers to skim the play of his muscles. She was going to teach him a lesson about torturing her with those jeans. “Now you’re going to have to pay.”

  She moved her mouth to his cock, unable to fight her desire to touch him so intimately, to taste him. Her tongue ran its length and he hardened further at the light stroke and kiss. She took him completely into her mouth, surprised by the fever pitch of her need. She held the hard length of him in her mouth and in her hands. She possessed him, and his body shook from the pleasure of her touch. A deep groan exploded from his chest and the ragged sound of his longing turned her on like a glowing neon sign. She sucked on his flesh, wanting to coax him to orgasm with her mouth, but as he grew close to release, he edged his hips away and reached for her, sliding her up his trembling body.

  “Wait, I’m not finished.” Her words were a gentle whisper against his throat.

  “Neither am I.” His voice rumbled up from his chest. He turned her around so that the back of her pliant, wanton body lay flat against the wall of the entry hall. She stayed still, breathing rapidly, her body primed.

  Placing a hand on either side of her head against the wall, he leaned in close enough to whisper. “Listen to me, Janey. I am going to make you come in every corner of your apartment, in every room, on every surface, so no matter where you look, you’ll imagine me moving inside you, making you come apart, making you feel like no other man has ever made you feel. Or ever will.”

  She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. “So, what are you waiting for?”

  A confident smile slid across his face. The man was not bluffing.

  “Angel, I’m done waiting.” Kicking his pants from his ankles, he tossed her over his shoulder caveman-style and strode into the narrow, train-style kitchen.

  “Put me down!” Laughing, her fists pounded playfully at his back.

  Jane was a modern woman, but she had to admit, the whole caveman thing was hot. Totally hot. Arm muscles flexing, he dragged her over his shoulder and lowered her backside onto the barstool next to the small kitchen island. The room, which opened into the living area, was dark except for a pale stream of moonlight pouring in from the bay window.

  “You’ve got way too many clothes on,” he whispered, pressing her gently back against the granite.

  “Agreed.” Her voice was a hot whisper, her gaze locked on his mouth.

  He bent his head and kissed the dip of her collarbone before taking the lacy strap of her open bra and dragging it away from her skin, leaving her half-naked and vulnerable, waiting for his touch. With the fabric torn away, his tongue moved to the side swell of her breast, licking and nibbling, tasting and taunting as his lips toured her curves. He pulled her right nipple deep into his mouth, sucking until it was inflamed and tender. Just the way she liked it.

  But he wasn’t finished. His teeth nipped along the underside of her swollen flesh as he worked his way to her left breast to finish the job of driving her to distraction. He raised his head to catch her gaze and slid the other side of the rumpled sweater away from her body, leaving her naked and waiting.

  Without looking away, he blew a light stream of air across her wet nipples and the aching flesh pebbled harder in response, desperate to feel more than his teasing. Her heart hammered away in her chest as his fingers moved across her lower abdomen, up her ribcage, settling under the fullness of her breasts. She bit down hard on her lower lip and looked away. He tweaked both her nipples and the exquisite pain shot straight to her clit. He took his hands away.

  “Look at me, Janey,” he said. “I want you to watch me touch you.”

  She gripped the edge of the island, unable to move, unable to respond. He pinched her swollen tips a second time, demanding her attention, and her eyes met his.

  Holding her heated gaze, his rough palms skimmed the sensitive tips of her wet, swollen breasts.

  Once.

  Twice.

  A third wonderfully erotic time.

  She let go a quiet moan as the thrill of his caress moved through her body, setting her core on fire, until her need for him demanded a physical and emotional response. She’d tried to fortify the walls around her emotions, but Charlie’s touch brushed away each attempt, asking—no, demanding—that she feel him.

  Her body arched toward him, practically begging for more. And he seemed more than willing to please her. His lips traveled over the vulnerable cove of her throat while his hands slid down her back to cup her ass before moving to the waistband of her pants. She kicked off her shoes. He eased the jeans over her hips and thighs to reveal the sexy secret beneath.

  “Love the pink lace.” Dark gray eyes widened and his voice, filled with raw desire, caused a playful smile to tug at the corners of her mouth.

  “I remember.”

  On a groan, he slipped his fingers under the lace and slid her panties away from the wet heat of her center. His fingers caressed her bottom as he tugged the provocative lace over her thighs and calves.

  “I want you now, Charlie,” she said, tearing at the buttons of his shirt. Even to her own ears, her voice echoed with longing. “Right now.”

  In answer, his hand trailed across her ribcage, across the curve of her hips and stomach to the apex of her thighs.

  Desire pooled low in her abdomen as his fingers slipped inside her. God, he was driving her crazy, circling her, drawing her close to a climax only to pull back. Her body inched closer toward him, desperate for the moment Charlie would en
ter, so ready to give every part of her body over to his expert hands. Her head fell back on a sigh. She knew exactly how he’d make love to her, tasting every inch of her, delving deep into all her secret places to set her skin on fire. A second moan escaped her lips as her body grew restless for him, her thighs trembling, aching to feel the hard length of him inside her. His fingers pulled away, leaving her naked and trembling. He grabbed her ass, tossed her from the barstool onto the island and dragged her toward the ledge. She gasped at the feel of the cool granite sliding beneath her.

  “I want you, too.” His mouth slammed down on her lips, and he kissed her with the pent-up passion of a man who refused to wait any longer. The thought thrilled her, driving her need for him to new heights of illogical madness. She returned his wild kiss, angling closer. Even if tonight was just one night, she wanted him with a desperation she’d never felt before. Call it passion. Call it chemistry. Yes, damn it, fine, it was some fan-fucking-tastic chemistry. In this moment, Jane only wanted to satisfy her craving for the one man on earth who left her totally undone.

  “Charlie.”

  He tugged her head back with his fingers “I want you to ride me,” he said, his voice heated, but in control. “I want to look up and see you throw your head back as I move inside you. I want to watch you cry out my name when I make you come apart in my arms.”

  Her eyes fluttered open to look at him. He looped his foot under the slat of the stool and dragged it closer, scraping it against the floor as his hands slid under her ass. He lifted her away from the granite. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she looped her elbows around his wide shoulders as he guided them back on the barstool. Her body melted in him, and she could feel the press of his erection against her stomach. His hands caressed her backside as she rose up to take him inside her slowly, inch by hot, hard inch, until he filled her near to bursting. He thrust up as she arched her body back. They fit together so perfectly, as if they’d been made for each other.

  Moonlight streamed across their naked skin, illuminating the shadow of their connected bodies on the wall of her cozy kitchen. A soft whimper escaped her lips at the sight of his cock moving in and out of her, plunging her depths, taking ownership of her body. He was right. She’d never walk in here without thinking of him and the way he shattered her to pieces. She swallowed a second cry of sweet desperation. God, the feel of him, the warmth, the spicy, masculine scent of his skin, everything combined to drive her out of her mind.

  “Oh sweet Jesus,” she whispered against his lips.

  He moved deeper inside her, stroking her, coaxing her toward orgasm, pushing her to the limits of pleasure.

  Clutching the edge of the granite, she arched her back and let her hips roll over him in a series of waves and thrusts that seemed to drive him wild. The pace of his movements quickened and he lifted his ass from the barstool, driving harder, pushing toward the moment when she’d do as he predicted and cry out his name.

  “Come for me, angel,” he moaned.

  Together, they rocked back and forth, reaching higher, escalating their desire with every move of their bodies. His cock found her perfect rhythm. His tongue matched it flawlessly and as she approached the edge of desire, he reached up to pinch her nipples into desperate peaks. She bit back a cry and held onto the counter for balance as she closed in on her own passionate release. With both hands on her hips, he drove her harder, thrusting upward as he tempted her body toward its final climax.

  She threw her head back, crying out his name, as she reached a criteria list-shattering orgasm. She rode him harder as her insides shuddered and pieces of her heart and soul shattered like shards of colored glass. He slowed his pace for a minute, sliding in and out of her until she sighed with pleasure. Her hips slammed down against the now-quickening pace of his thrusts, until his strong body shuddered against her in pleasure and release.

  “Janey.”

  Not quite ready to face the emotions swirling around in her heart, she placed her index finger against his mouth and traced the line of his irresistible smile. “Can I get you a beer?”

  She brushed a kiss across his lips, lifted her hips and eased away.

  “I can think of one or two things I’d like more than a beer.” He tugged her toward him and the simple movement caused a play of spectacular muscles to ripple down his arms and across his chest.

  Damn. She swiveled her hips away from his hands. “I’ll bet.”

  Across the kitchen, she opened the fridge. His hot gaze on her skin burned a sizzling trail down her backside and she turned around slowly, her body outlined by the light from the open door. Leaning her hip against the cool steel, she let her curves do the talking. His gray eyes darkened as he rose up from the barstool in a fluid movement that was so damned sexy, she felt the familiar kick of desire in her stomach. He walked toward her, naked and glorious, moving through her cozy kitchen like some kind of sex god. She wanted to eat him with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a spoon. She grabbed the beer, took a sip, and handed him the rest.

  He took a long, slow pull. Even his Adam’s apple was sexy.

  So unfair.

  So totally unfair.

  He stood there—mere inches away—drinking a beer, so casually perfect, so deliciously edible, naked in her kitchen, and damn, he looked so right. Like he fit. She smiled and ran her hands across his chest, loving the way he felt beneath her fingertips, all sinewy muscle and hard, strong man. On a groan, he pulled her toward him and slammed the refrigerator door shut with his shoulder. His hips pushed her back against the stainless steel as he poured some of the amber liquid into the dip of her collarbone and let it spill down her breasts, over her stomach, between her thighs. She drew in a shocked breath at the sensation of the cold liquid against her heated skin and arched toward him.

  “Ready for another round, angel?”

  Hell, yes, and if the second time felt as good as the first, her ability to recommit to her Ultimate Man List was in some very serious jeopardy.

  Because she was having the ultimate night with the ultimate man.

  He smiled and ran the smooth edge of the bottle over her shoulder into the valley between her breasts teasing the peaks as the hard edge slipped across her wet skin. He circled the edge of her nipple, first with the cool glass, then with his tongue.

  Gaze locked onto her, he dropped to his knees in front of her and licked away the beer spilling down to her aching, desperate core. A moan escaped her as she held his gaze and watched him work her body with the magic of his tongue.

  She gripped the edge of the refrigerator as her body began to tremble.

  “Round two, here I…come.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  @smartCupid. Like it or not, love is a four letter word.

  Jane woke up with the weight of Charlie’s warm, naked body pressed up against her back, his strong arm draped around her, all casually intimate and cozy. He was still sleeping, so she took the quiet moment before he woke up, before he could charm her with his knockout ways, to think.

  Against her better judgment, despite her criteria list, the walls around her heart had cracked open and she’d fallen in love with him. Again.

  Or maybe she’d always been in love with him.

  Madly. Passionately. Bone-deep in love.

  The fact of it scared the hell out of her. Made her feel as if she couldn’t breathe, as if she’d never breathe again. Made her flight instincts kick in hard.

  Again.

  She bit down on her bottom lip, listening to the even rhythm of his breathing. Predictable. Rule-abiding. Safe. He’d been safe when he was only a friend carrying around Life Savers. But last night, naked and in control of her body, her heart, and her mind, he was anything but safe. He was passionate and combustible, everything that sent her list-dependent heart into a vulnerable free fall. And she’d wanted that. Some part of her still did.

  But she’d seen her mother all wrapped up in her father. Never quite at ease, never secure. That kind of vulnerability
made her sick to think about. Even now, lying in Charlie’s arms, thoughts of falling completely created a baseline of fear inside her. She’d built Cupid to get out of Brooklyn, to be sure her world, her heart, was safe, and to give other, brokenhearted people a shot at the kind of safe, comfortable love that would endure. She didn’t want to free-fall, knowing she’d crash. Every kid that had ever fallen and skinned her knee knew that it hurt, sometimes it hurt like hell, and Jane had enough hurt to last a lifetime.

  The irony lodged in her throat. She’d created the rules and her criteria list and her matrix, all to ensure that her relationships would be safe and risk-free. Yet, she loved Charlie.

  But he was not what she needed.

  Rule-abiding.

  Predictable.

  Safe.

  Charlie was the antithesis of her list, wasn’t he? Surprising, rule-breaking, sexy enough to be a danger to her long-term peace of mind. No matter how badly she wanted to believe in this all-consuming chemistry, to believe it could lead to shared responsibilities and summer vacations, to happily ever after, to a life together, to trust, she didn’t.

  In her experience, chemistry didn’t lead to everyday love. It led straight to pain and scars and wounds permanently branded on a person’s heart.

  And that’s why she needed to cut and run. Their one night was over, and if she had any hope of surviving love, she needed to get back to her rules. Even if he felt amazing, even if she wanted him with all her heart. She slid out carefully from under his arm, hoping for a clean getaway. But his hand reached for hers.

  “Stay,” he said.

  The warm sound of his voice sent a thrill of pleasure and panic down her spine. A sexy smile touched his mouth, and damn if her world didn’t feel all topsy-turvy.

  “Morning, big guy.” She hated the fact that she used the old nickname to create some distance between them, to protect her feelings. But she needed the distance. She drew in a shaky breath. No matter how fast her heart beat at the sight of him all rumpled and boyish and sweet, she was going to get her emotions under control.