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Dirty Deeds: Standalone sexy romance

Page 15

by Lorelei James


  Tate’s single handhold on the ladder increased. “Because I don’t want it. I can do this. Since you’re the landscaping expert, isn’t your work supposed to be done outside?”

  A breath hissed between his teeth. “Low blow.”

  “Sorry.” She glanced down and was rewarded with a glimpse of his steel-toed work boots and his yellow hard hat, plus the rippling muscles straining at the seams of his tight T-shirt. Damn.

  Do not get distracted by his banging body.

  She strengthened her resolve. “Did you need something else?”

  “To tell you I’m leaving.”

  Her aggressive brush banging sent paint splattering. “Are you coming back?”

  “Later.” His booted foot tapped impatiently. “You’ll be here?”

  “Hopefully not right here, stuck repainting the same section of ceiling.” She stirred absentmindedly, wondering what else to say. Yet she didn’t feel the initial apology about last night’s fiasco should be hers.

  Nathan made it to the living room before he stopped and said, “Tate?”

  “What?” She held her breath. Please say something sweet. Any kind of that romantic stuff you specialize in.

  “I’m sorry about last night. It’s just…” He paused. “You were right, okay? It’s time I stop acting like you shouldn’t have a say in our lessons. I never meant to hurt you.” His heavy tread echoed through the silence and the screen door banged shut behind him.

  Tate grinned at the empty room. “Good answer.”

  Late that afternoon a glass of icy lemonade sweltered on the sideboard when a dusty but damnably appealing Nathan sidled inside the kitchen. “Hey.”

  “Hey. You look thirsty.” She handed him the cold drink and watched him drain it in one long draw.

  Those beautiful brown eyes held her gaze and then he smiled shyly. “Thanks.”

  Her residual anger dissipated like the last of the paint fumes.

  He wiped his brow with the back of the cool glass. “It’s hot out there.”

  “In here too. You want to sit down?”

  “No.” He scowled at his dirt-covered clothes. “I’m headed home to clean up.” Tension filled the already stifling air as he rattled the ice in his glass. “Thought I’d better check to see if you’re still going to Steve’s with me tonight.”

  Tate took her time pouring another glass for herself. “I guess. Did you think I’d changed my mind?”

  “I figured you might still be mad.”

  She measured him. His sweaty, earthy scent and vulnerable expression created thoughts of flinging herself into his strong arms, damning the dust clouds, paint splatters and misunderstandings between them. “I’m not mad. Let’s forget it, okay?”

  His jaw dropped. “You aren’t going to make me beg to get back in your good graces?”

  “I do enough begging for both of us,” she said. “I’ll go to this party with you since your friends are expecting us. But I’m warning you, this is our last social event.”

  Nathan’s eyes sharpened. “Why?”

  “Because it wasn’t part of the deal. I never agreed to weekly pool games or barbecues.”

  “But you agreed to no-holds-barred sex.”

  “That was the arrangement. If you want to change it, tell me now because I’m running out of time. I need to be back in Denver in three weeks.” There. She had reminded him of her temporary status.

  Mouth tight, Nathan set the glass on the counter. “We’re not changing a damn thing. I’ll be back in an hour. You’d better be ready.”

  The door crashed behind him and he was gone.

  Hot and sticky from sweat and paint, Tate indulged in a long, cool shower.

  But the day’s heat lingered. She slipped on her skimpiest sundress, grateful the floral rayon fabric allowed her skin to breathe.

  Half an hour later, she descended the stairs the same time Nathan walked through the front door. He lifted his head, sending his dark, untamed hair flowing down his broad back. Those honey-colored eyes, usually soft and gentle, were filled with a dangerous glint.

  Lord, how had she ever imagined she could handle him? He exuded raw sexuality with the way his gaze swept over her and his hunger clawed at her. In that moment she felt as unbound as his hair and she wondered why she’d bothered dressing at all.

  “Tate.”

  That one half-growled word said everything. She waited without breathing, without thinking, without moving.

  By her side in two short strides, he hauled her into his arms. His mouth swooped down and overwhelmed. Hard, unrelenting, his tongue demanded her total surrender. Gone were the gentle, coaxing kisses, the soft, exploratory touches. The hands holding her head traveled over her throat to claim her breasts, down farther yet to caress with single-minded accuracy the aching spot between her legs.

  She was helpless against the passion that flared to life. Moisture pooled low, dampening her thighs. Heart pounding, she clung to his brawny neck, breathing in his clean scent, shoving her hands into his glossy hair.

  His kisses destroyed her. His questing fingers created a flash of heat in her groin that owed nothing to fabric friction.

  Nathan nudged her toward the living room. “You’re driving me crazy, winyan,” he muttered against her mouth. He wrenched the straps of her sundress down her arms until she was bared before him. “Stark raving mad with wanting you.” His thumb lightly grazed the pebbled tip. “With remembering how these feel in my mouth.”

  “Nathan, please.”

  Ignoring her entreaty, he feasted on her nipples until they were stiff and rosy. Until she arched and moaned, thrashing against him, wild with an elemental need.

  He ripped his avid mouth away to lick a teasing path to her ear. “I want to fuck you. Right now.”

  His rough words were meant to shock her, but they didn’t. Her hand continued sifting through the silken tangles of his hair. Her need for him was growing, building a frenzy in her brain. Yet she needed to hear those potent words again. “What?”

  “You heard me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Teeth scraped over the sensitive cord in her neck, followed by hot breaths over her skin. “No more pretty phrases. No more hesitation. No more pathetic attempts at romance. I want you, right here, right now, on the couch, coming hard on the end of my cock until you scream my name.”

  She trembled. Not from his crude tone, but from the seductive combination of his magical hands and impatient mouth on her body that turned the throbbing ache between her legs more sharply pronounced.

  When the back of her knees hit the couch, she grabbed his shoulders. The heat rising from his skin nearly scorched her fingers. “Wait,” she whispered, fighting for control.

  His eyes were wild. His mouth was wet from suckling her. He shook his head and his soft hair fanned over her taut nipple. She bit back a moan at the erotic sensation of him grinding his pelvis into hers.

  Tate turned her head away from the greedy mouth. If he kissed her again, she’d be lost. But he was relentless. He moved to lick the pulse tripping erratically in the hollow of her throat. Tingles spread across her skin and spiraled up her spine.

  “I’ve been such an idiot,” he panted. “You are beautiful. Let me have you, Tate. Let me make love to you right now.”

  So, Mr. Romance decided he’d accept their overwhelming chemistry. Big of him.

  But that’s what you wanted, right? Lots of burning-hot sex without strings. Without promises. Without love.

  Why did her victory feel hollow? A tiny part of her deflated. “Stop.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re going to be late for the party.”

  “I don’t care about the damn party,” he said, tugging on her nipple while he lightly scored the upper swell of her breast with his teeth. Then he sucked that skin hard, using long sweeps of his tongue to soothe the love bruise.

  “Dammit!” She shoved his shoulders. “Will you listen?”

  He went utterly still.

  T
ate stumbled back, attempting to straighten her dress. She fiddled with the spaghetti straps to avoid looking at him. “As long as I’ve waited for this, Nathan, I deserve better than a quick coupling on the couch. Weren’t you the one who insisted our first sex lesson should be romantic? This sure as hell doesn’t fit the bill.”

  Dead silence.

  His eventual low laugh was not amused. “Guess that comment about needing romance turned around and bit me on the ass, didn’t it?”

  Tate watched him drag his hands through his hair in sheer frustration.

  “What do you want from me, Tate?”

  Everything. She willed her voice not to wobble. “Can we just go to this party like planned? We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

  The tight set of his jaw turned his smile into a grimace. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  Tate surveyed her surroundings while she nursed her warm ginger ale.

  Their late arrival caused the expected catcalls and wolf whistles. That hadn’t bothered her. The way Nathan had retreated into polite, disinterested mode bothered her far more.

  Sure, he’d introduced her to his friends and sat with her during dinner, fielding questions about their “relationship.” But that was all. They hadn’t exchanged one personal private word. The minute Nancy, Tina and Vickie had descended on her like long-lost friends, he’d bailed with a profound look of relief.

  Still, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Although he hung out with the other men surrounding the barbecue pit, he didn’t join in their eruptions of laughter. Did he ever relax? Or was she the cause of his disgruntled demeanor?

  When Roger handed Nathan a fifth beer—yes, it was pathetic to admit she’d been counting—she sighed, wondering how she’d fare driving his big rig home.

  Cold fear curled in the pit of her stomach.

  Unless that was Nathan’s plan? Get drunk and have one of his buddies drop her off at her house to prove he still had the upper hand?

  He turned. Their gazes collided and he glanced away again without so much as a smile. His indifference stung. Right then Tate decided the deal was off. She’d suck up her stupid pride and borrow the money to finish the landscaping. Listening to Ryan berate her for her shortsightedness didn’t seem nearly as awful as the dismissive expression in Nathan’s eyes.

  But isn’t that what you did? a little voice piped up inside her head. Dismissed Nathan? By telling him you’d have no part of more social situations? Can you blame the guy for distancing himself?

  Her stomach roiled as that bit of knowledge settled in. This time it was her fault. Confused, she fled into the house in search of solitude.

  In the kitchen, piles of barbequed chicken and ribs, potato salad, fruit and relish trays left over from dinner were spread out on the marble countertops. Tate popped a green grape into her mouth and searched for a glass. Her stomach rumbled at the same time she found the ice bucket and bottled water.

  She considered her situation. She could march out there and demand someone take her home. Or she could call a cab and sneak away. She could walk… Yeah, maybe she could sprout wings and fly.

  A bottle of Absolut Peppar vodka rattled on the bar cart as the back door slammed shut and Nathan stalked into view.

  Lordy, Lordy, looked like they were going to scrap this out, right here, right now. Tate sipped the water, wetting the dryness in her mouth.

  The door slammed again, and the house teemed with people. Amidst the chaos, she tried to slip away, but Nathan caught her elbow and dragged her to the secluded entryway.

  Every annoyed breath he pulled into his lungs echoed in the small space. But he didn’t speak. His hands were shoved in his shorts pockets as he paced.

  “Can you find someone to take me home?”

  He quit moving. “Don’t want to be seen with me?”

  “Why is that always the first question you ask? You must think I’m shallow.”

  “If that’s not it, then why are you so hot to leave?”

  “Because you’ve been hitting the beer pretty hard.”

  “Two beers, Tate.” He held up his fingers in a V shape. “Two.”

  “No. I watched—”

  “You were watching to see how much I drank? Got a high opinion of me, don’t you?”

  Tate bristled. “When I’m riding with someone else, I make it my business to watch. And I’ve seen your friend Roger bringing you beer. Five,” she mimicked, holding up her palm, fingers splayed wide. “Five at my last count.” Upending her glass, she sucked a large ice chunk into her mouth to keep from spewing any more angry words.

  Nathan loomed over her. “You’re right on the count, but how many did you actually see me drink?” His dangerous laugh touched her every open nerve. “Who’d blame me if I used beer to erase the dirty thoughts I’m having about all the things I want to do to you?”

  Tate blinked at him.

  He muttered, “Hell with it.” His lips slammed down on hers and he thrust his tongue inside her mouth.

  The demanding tip of his tongue met the ice cube. He froze for an instant and began slowly sucking the ice cube simultaneously with her tongue.

  Chills coated her body. Warm lips, hot tongue, cold ice. The sensations assaulted her and she melted into his embrace while he seduced her with the erotic play. Tender tugs, teasing sips, the velvet slide of his lips followed by the cool hardness of the ice. When the freeze became too intense, he sucked the cube into his mouth. His tongue might be cold but nothing cooled the need in his every touch. When the ice cube was reduced to liquid, he backed off.

  Tate nearly toppled over, reeling from the loss of his muscled body against hers.

  His tight grip on her shoulders softened into a caress. “Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been staying away from you?”

  She held his gaze. “I don’t want you to stay away from me, Nathan.”

  “That’s not what you said earlier.”

  “Sorry.” She wound a wayward strand of his dark silky hair around her pinky. “Is that why you stayed away?”

  “No.” His intense gaze quickened her breath. “Because I get one whiff of you and I’m instantly hard. Images of what we’ve done, what I dream of doing to you, start a continual loop in my head. I want more.”

  “More what?” Her finger quit twirling his hair. She studied him, needing absolute clarity on what he wanted before she offered him anything. Or everything.

  “More of you and me exploring the nuclear reaction between us.” He nuzzled her neck. “You smell good.” His palms rasped over her nipples. “You feel good. Know what else I’ve noticed?”

  “What?”

  “How good you taste.”

  She gasped when his cold tongue flicked across her clavicle, turning her skin into a mass of gooseflesh. Then he sucked the air from her ear and every coherent thought clean out of her head.

  His erection teased her stomach as he pressed her against the wall. “I want you right now.”

  “Did you forget we are in Steve and Nancy’s foyer?”

  No.” His locked his gaze onto hers and he slid his hand around to cup her bottom.

  Her blush bloomed across her chest, increasing the heavy ache in her breasts. “Let’s go back to my house.”

  “Don’t think I can wait that long.” His eyes glittered with a challenge. “Remember when you said you wanted to be daring?”

  Her heartbeat zoomed to warp speed. “You just said—”

  “Not here specifically, but somewhere around here.”

  “Like a coat closet?” Visions of her bare back rubbing against mink, Nathan’s mouth muffling her cries as he pounded into her, sent another surge of heat rocketing through her system.

  “Downstairs would be more private.” His nostrils flared. “You are just as turned on by this idea as I am.” As if to prove his point, he bent his head and sucked her nipple hard through the thin material of her dress.

  Tate shuddered.

  The cocky man chuckled. “You want this.”

/>   She did. Desperately. No more games. “You’ve got a condom?”

  “Baby, I’ve got two.” His hot breath fanned over her breast. “Want to hear my idea?”

  Tate stroked his sex through the material of his shorts, flicking her tongue back and forth over his bottom lip. “No. Show me. Show me now.”

  Grabbing her hand, he propelled them down the darkened circular staircase.

  Her palms were clammy, her heart raced, the inside of her thighs were soaked. The ice in her glass rattled with every rapid step.

  At the end of an endless hallway, while kissing her senseless, he pushed her through a doorway.

  “Where are we?” she whispered.

  “Bathroom,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “How do you know—”

  “I’ve played poker here for the last five years. I probably know Steve’s den and this basement better than my own.” Once inside the small space, he shut the door, locked it and didn’t bother flipping on the lights.

  The black void was absolute.

  Tate couldn’t see, but she sensed Nathan’s uneven breathing matched her own. “It’s awfully dark in here,” she whispered. She withheld a moan as his tongue skated up her arm, light as a butterfly kiss.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, working the soft straps of her dress down her shoulders with his teeth. “I can feel my way.”

  “I’ll bet you can.” She set the glass beside her, wanting no more distractions.

  Amidst heated caresses, hungry kisses, Nathan tugged at the straps on her dress until it fell to the floor.

  His large, skilled hands raced over her bared flesh. Then stopped.

  She laughed softly when his hand encountered her naked butt.

  “Tate?” he said in a strangled voice.

  “Surprise.”

  Tate wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  Nathan’s brain repeated the phrase like a mantra. Tate wasn’t wearing any underwear. Tate wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  “Nice surprise. Did you plan—”

  “N-n-o,” she stuttered. “I was hot—”

  “I haven’t even begun to get you hot,” he growled, settling her bare backside against the counter.

  She curled her hands around his face. Her sweet breath drifted over his jaw as she tried to find his lips in the dark. “Show me. Make me burn, Nathan.”

 

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