Dirty Deal (A Perfectly Matched Novel) (Entangled Brazen)

by Christine Bell

  “I promise.” She responded to his solemn tone with an equally solemn nod.

  “One time I robbed a 7-Eleven at gunpoint and made off with ten thousand dollars.”

  She searched his face for a sign of humor, but it was stone-cold serious.

  “Oh. Cool.” She had a thing for bad boys and all, but that was going a little too far. Still, she wasn’t about to show her apprehension. That could mark the tragic beginning of a Dateline Special Report. Nodding, she chattered aimlessly and tried to think of how to process this disturbing tidbit. “Was it a 7-Eleven Express or one that has the free chili with their nachos?”

  A wide grin split his face, and he burst into laughter. “Boy, are you gullible. You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

  Relief coursed through her, chasing away the chill that had started to settle in her belly. “You’re such a jerk!” She leaped to her feet and waded another six inches into the water, dragging her hand across the tide to splash the front of his jeans.

  He gasped between bursts of laughter as the chilly water hit him, and then suddenly he was in hot pursuit, chasing her through the shallow waves, splashing her in turn. She squealed and waded deeper. She was already soaked; might as well go for broke. On her next splash in his direction, she really nailed him. His white shirt was soaked through, and it clung to him like a see-through second skin.

  God. Damn.

  He was pure strength, from his tree-trunk biceps to the deep vee and stone-cut abs that marked hours of dedicated training. She’d noted it at the auction, but close up it was a whole other ball game. He didn’t look like any doctor she’d ever had, but she sure did feel like she had a fever.

  Just looking at him, she was starting to get a handle on why the women he was with never wanted to let him go.

  “This was a new shirt,” he said.

  “This was a new dress,” she countered. “So I guess we’re even stephen.” She felt twitchy, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she splashed him again, but this time, he was ready. He launched himself in her direction and pinned her arms at her sides. They were both laughing.

  And then suddenly, they weren’t.

  His jaw tensed as he stared down at her. “What’s going on here, Serena?” he rasped, his fingers tightening on her wrists as he pressed closer. “You already got what you wanted.”

  “Did I?” she murmured, half dazed as he leaned closer, the wall of his chest pressing against her breasts.

  She should stop now. If she slept with this guy and things got complicated—the way they always did—he might back out on their deal. Grace would murder her.

  But even that thought didn’t make her pull away.

  “Well, let’s talk about that somewhere a little more secluded, then,” he said.

  He turned her in his arms, facing her away from him, and urged her forward, step by step across the cooling summer sand, toward the patio. Instead of leading her up the stairs, he steered her beneath them. She moved to turn, to kiss him the way she’d wanted to the second she saw that slow smile, but he held her gently in place.

  He brushed her nape with his fingertips, descending downward in a slow caress, following the indent of her spine to her bottom. His hot mouth pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder once, then again. His hand stole around her body to cup her breast, teasing her nipple through the thin fabric of her damp dress. She let her head fall back with a moan.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “All night long, I’ve been wanting to see how sexy you look in that bra. It’s driving me crazy.”

  He released her breast and slid his hands to her hips, pressing her ass against his thick arousal. She gasped and wriggled. They’d barely touched, and she was on fire.

  “But I need to know. How far are we going to take this here and now?” The low rumble of his voice penetrated the dull roar in her ears and she tried to focus. “It would kill me to stop, but—”

  “No!” Her whole body rebelled at that thought. “I don’t want to stop,” she murmured, straining closer to him, relishing the hardness of his cock lodged against her bottom.

  His only answer was to release her hips to slip his hand under her dress, flipping it up until her ass was bare. She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes closed.

  “This is just for tonight, though,” she managed to mutter, calling on what little remained of her sanity to issue that all-important PSA. “So we can get it out of the way. And after this, we’re just two friendly associates working for a common goal.”

  She turned to face him, holding his glittering gaze in the moonlight.

  “Can you handle that, Bryan?”

  Chapter Four

  Bryan tried to focus on her words through the haze of need clouding his mind as she reached out to cup his more-than-ready cock in her hot hand. He groaned and surged forward, but she pressed her splayed fingers to his chest.

  “Can you?”

  What was she asking again? If he could handle smoking-hot, no-strings-attached sex with her? Handle being back home without having to worry about Piper behind every corner—or potted plant—he walked by, thinking that the reason he hadn’t had a serious relationship since her was because he secretly still loved her? Handle touching Serena in every way he could possibly imagine and then not having to worry about her all up on his jock about marriage and babies afterward?

  “Yeah, I think I can manage.”

  “Good.”

  Her voice was husky and soulful. A second later, her dress was in a pool at her feet, revealing breasts too beautiful to be real behind a scrap of red lace. There was no more holding back. He closed the space between them and crushed her against him, slanting his mouth over hers, palming her ass with both hands, anchoring her against him.

  Serena broke away. “Please tell me you have a condom?” Her half-mast eyes were full of hope and she held her breath awaiting his response.

  He dug his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans and nodded. “Lifelong fucking Boy Scout. Always prepared.”

  “Oh thank God,” she murmured before turning to face the underside of the stairs. “Hurry,” she whispered feverishly over her shoulder, leaning forward to rest her hands on the knotty wood. The move sent her ass out toward him, giving him an eyeful of red thong and firm, rounded cheeks.

  She didn’t have to ask him twice.

  He reached around her and ran his free hand over her smooth, flat belly, then upward to cup one breast. It was a perfect, pert handful, and he plucked her nipple, reveling in the catch of her breath.

  Somewhere inside him, a dam broke. He shifted, pressing a knee between her thighs until they were spread wide. Kneading his way past her ass cheeks, he paused as he reached her pussy to tug aside the lace and found wet silk. He held his breath, pressing two fingers into her clutching heat. She groaned, her back arching.

  He thrust his fingers deeper, biting back his own groan as her slick walls squeezed him. Damn, he needed to be inside her now.

  He pulled his fingers away and then reached down to unbutton his pants. As his cock sprang free, Serena reached her hand back between them and closed a fist around him. Helpless, he thrust himself more fully into her hand. She began to work his dick in long, firm strokes. In moments he was pumping his hips in counterpoint, a colossal orgasm bearing down on him hard and fast.

  Just as he was about to wrench himself from her magic fingers, she stilled, releasing his shaft. She delicately circled the head of his cock with one fingertip, letting out a satisfied purr as she encountered the drop of moisture that clung there. A jolt of pure animal lust shot through him, and the need to bury himself inside her overwhelmed all thought.

  He pulled back for a second, fumbling briefly with the condom before returning to her. Wrapping a fist in her hair, he grabbed his dick, rubbing it up and down against her hot slit. Slippery with her moisture, he centered himself and slid home in one long thrust, not stopping until his hips wer
e anchored to hers.

  Serena whimpered, and her pussy fluttered over him. His balls tightened, and his cock throbbed in response, every nerve ending aflame. Desire clawed at him, urging him to move, to thrust, but she was so damned tight. Shaking with the effort of remaining still, he leaned forward to whisper, “You like it?”

  “Jesus, yes.” To emphasize her words, she retracted from him until only the head of his dick was still inside her, and then slammed her ass back against him. He let out a loud grunt before he could stop it.

  They both stilled, realizing at the same time that, while it was called Slap and Tickle Shore, they were still very much in public.

  Serena quivered and Bryan flexed his hips. But for the sound of their harsh breathing, and the waves lapping against the shore, the beach remained silent. He took that as a good sign and reached around to cover her pelvis with his hand, pressing her back toward him.

  Slipping his index finger into her folds, he found her clit, plump and slick. He massaged it in quick, light strokes as he plunged into her from behind, settling into a merciless rhythm. Deeper, harder each time until his pelvis slammed against her ass. His balls tightened almost painfully, ready to launch, the urge to come a grinding need.

  Her body tensed, and she tossed her head back, teeth bared. He tightened his grip on her hair as he growled low in his throat. She was close…so close.

  “Come for me.”

  He pounded his cock into her, increasing the pressure of his fingers. Her legs shook from the tension, and her breath came fast. She froze, and then all hell broke loose.

  “Ahh, fuck yeah,” she cried out, her pussy gripping his dick as she came.

  All thoughts of silence fled as his own orgasm slammed through him. Hot liquid pulsed from his swollen cock, and he shouted, oblivious to their surroundings now. Intense waves of pleasure crashed over him, rocking him on his heels. Serena would have none of it, as she pushed back against him, making sure he stayed deep inside her until he was drained.

  He collapsed against her, folding his torso against her back, heart still jackhammering against his ribs, with only one thought in his head, and that was how to get her to do that with him again…

  And soon.

  …

  Five minutes. Less, maybe, and Dr. Bryan Metcalf had wrecked her. Now, as her body cooled and the adrenaline faded, she didn’t have a single clue how to handle it.

  She’d had her share of one-night stands in the past, but always at the guy’s house because it allowed for a quick and easy getaway. There was a comfort in being able to slip out with your panties and dignity in the wee hours of the morning. No good-byes, no small talk.

  But she hadn’t thought this out and now here she was with her new…business associate, half naked and stranded without her car on the sandy shoreline.

  He’d just pulled away and finished dealing with the condom when she finally found her voice to speak.

  “Well, um, that was really nice, Doc,” she said, wishing she sounded a little less breathless.

  “Agreed,” he said, a slow grin splitting his handsome face. His gaze drifted lower and she suddenly she felt exposed and weirdly…vulnerable. Nudity had never bothered her before, but then again, they were on a public beach. It only made sense she felt that way. It had nothing to do with Bryan and everything to do with the circumstances. She slipped her dress back on as he buttoned his shirt and fastened his pants, and the world shifted back on its axis.

  This was how they would be seeing each other for the next few weeks or so. Fully dressed, which was good. Far less tempting. And now that she’d seen everything else he had to offer, her curiosity was satisfied, which meant they could both move on.

  Professionally.

  He was staring at her, and she tried desperately to remember what they’d been saying.

  Right. Leaving.

  “So, yeah. Let’s call it a night. I’ve got…some things to do tomorrow anyway,” she hedged, wondering if it would be weird to just phone for a cab rather than suffer the awkwardness of riding with him in the limo now.

  He gave her a wry smile. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

  “Nice to be on the same page with someone for once, am I right?” she said, forcing a grin in return. For all the discussion about their mutual distaste of relationships beforehand, she’d expected to feel a lot less awkward after the fact. She only hoped that faded before they saw each again in an entirely different capacity.

  The only thing that should matter was they’d enjoyed each other’s company and were both getting what they wanted: the ability to walk away entirely satisfied and free of guilt.

  She slipped on her shoes, and he steadied her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “I’ll call you in the next couple of days for details.”

  “Details?” he asked.

  “For the events. And for the photo shoots and stuff. We’ll draw up a contract,” she nodded. “Or Grace will.”

  “Right, sounds good.”

  He led her back into the restaurant in silence, and she gathered up her purse while he spoke to the waiter and dealt with the bill. On the ride home, she made small talk so he would see she wasn’t just saying she was cool with this being a one-night hookup, and that she was actually cool with it, but it all felt a little forced.

  By the time they pulled up to her door, she was ready to dive headfirst out of the moving car.

  “So, thanks for the lovely evening.” She pushed open the door and swung her legs out of the limo, holding up a hand to keep him in place. “No need to walk me in, I’m good.”

  He seemed like he wanted to argue but then gave her a reluctant nod. “At least flash the lights when you get in safe, okay?”

  She popped off a snappy salute and wheeled around to get the hell out of Dodge. She was halfway up the stairs before she turned back, motioning for him to lower the window.

  “Can we, uh, keep this between us? The last thing we need is Grace getting wind of what happened. She’ll be all over me about it.”

  A smile tugged at his sexy lips, and he mimicked her salute. “Roger that.”

  She jogged lightly up the remaining steps and tried hard not to glance over her shoulder to see if he was staring after her. Unlikely. When she’d told him the sex was a onetime thing, he didn’t even have the hangdog expression some guys got. He was, for lack of a better word, completely chill with it.

  Weird. But in a good way, she told herself, pushing back the twinge of…something she felt when she thought of how normal he’d seemed after the fact. Because what she’d said to him was true. For all intents and purposes, tonight had never happened. When she saw him again, it would be as though they’d rubbed elbows instead of bumping uglies.

  She closed the door behind her, stepped into the cavernous foyer of her family home, and shivered. Wrapping her arms around herself, she kicked off her heels, making a mental note to turn down the air-conditioning and open the windows before she got into bed. She flipped on the lights and made her way to her bedroom, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

  Her mother would be horrified. Her hair was a wreck, her dress was still damp and covered in sand, and she was rocking a little potbelly from all the food she’d scarfed down at dinner.

  By tomorrow, though, all those reminders of her night with Bryan would be gone.

  Why that thought didn’t cheer her in the least, she couldn’t say.

  Chapter Five

  “If you don’t quit messing with the props, you’re going to break something, and François is going to be pissed.” Grace snatched a rubber chicken from Serena’s hands and looked into the bird’s expressionless eyes. “Although why this is here, I haven’t the faintest idea.”

  “I think it totally works. We could be like, ‘Don’t be a chickenshit, let Love Will Find a Way pick a match for you today!’” Serena said in her best commercial voice before grabbing the prop and tossing it back into the bucket of other, equally strange items that
sat beside the shooting stage.

  “Please, don’t mess with the art.” The photographer sniffed and adjusted his lens for the seventh time. His French accent was so bad that he must have picked it up from a daytime soap opera, and his crappy, condescending attitude grated on her, but it wasn’t worth arguing with him over. She had more important things on her mind, like Dr. Bryan “I’m too cool to show up on time” Metcalf.

  She was usually the one behind schedule, but today she’d been a few minutes early. Granted, that was only because she and Grace had come over together from the office, but still. She was here and ready to go. Too bad the same couldn’t be said of their model. Surely all those years in the army should have taught him punctuality, but he was already ten minutes late for the photo shoot.

  Maybe he’d decided to bail after all.

  She hadn’t heard from him at all in the three days since their “forgotten” night on the beach. Apparently, he’d taken her words to heart. All the arrangements for today’s shoot had been made through Grace. Hell, the one time he’d called the office and she’d answered the phone, he asked to speak to Grace after barely offering a quick hello. He was polite, but not at all needy or clingy or any of the stuff she hated.

  That was a good thing, she reminded herself.

  What wasn’t a good thing was the fact that they would have blown a grand on this studio session if he didn’t bother to show.

  She twirled the giant pinwheel that was sticking out of the prop bin and Grace slapped her hand.

  “Seriously? François is going to yell at you again, you know. It’s like you’re baiting him on purpose. What’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing.” Serena stalked toward the little tray of food François’s assistant had set out and noshed on a celery stick. “Hungry, I guess,” she said.

  Grace glanced toward her watch and then the door. Apparently, Serena’s reply was enough to satisfy her curiosity because she was on to a whole new subject within seconds. “He’s late, but he did say he was coming. He texted me a couple minutes ago.”