Catching Her Heart (Scored, #3)

by Marquita Valentine

  “You’ve heard of resting bitch face, right?”

  Tommy nodded, but he kept his eyes trained on Bryce.

  “It doesn’t just apply to women.”

  His gaze sliced to hers. “Seriously?”

  Nodding, she said, “Afraid so. And the men who have it tend to be a little more verbal than your average bear.”

  Tommy considered her words. “All right. I’ll head home, but only because I have homework.”

  “See you tomorrow,” she called out as the teen shuffled to the door.

  As soon as Tommy’s feet hit the sidewalk, Bryce closed the door and locked it. He turned to face her, lips twitching as he leaned against it. “I have resting bitch face?”

  “Should I have called it resting pouting face? Or active throwing a temper-tantrum face because I didn’t swoon when you texted me the phrase ‘not my problem’.”

  “There’s that sass.” Pushing away from the door, he walked slowly to her. “The last time I had to try this hard for a female was when I was fifteen and wanted to get into Melissa Dorian’s panties.”

  “Bless your heart,” she cooed. She held her ground as he got closer. His sexy face had the look of a predator stalking his prey. The thought of being his prey made thrills of pleasure run all over her body.

  “That passive-aggressive bullshit doesn’t fly with me. Neither does lying,” he said, crowding her into the back of the café. “Tell me to fuck off if you think I’m bullshitting you.”

  “Newsflash, Detective. I already did.” She shoved against his chest. “You didn’t get the message that you keep saying is perfectly clear to you.”

  His hand punched out, hitting the wall with a thud. Her heart kept time. “Maybe I’m a slow learner.”

  “Maybe you don’t like being told you can’t have me.”

  He leaned down. “Been there. In so deep that I want more,” he rasped against her ear. “Admit it, sweetheart, you want more, too.”

  “What I want is irrelevant to our situation,” she protested, turning her head to one side. But that only gave him better access to her sensitized skin. “What I want,” she began and ended on a gasp, “is for you to...Oh God.” She shoved against him. “Stop. I can’t think straight around you.”

  “That’s the whole point,” he said, worrying her earlobe.

  “Bryce.” She sighed his name, enjoying the feel of him pressing against her. He made her feel so small, so dainty. She loved it. “We can’t have sex in my café.”

  “We sure as hell can’t have it in your Bug. I won’t fit inside.”

  Pulling away from him, she giggled. “Don’t you have a healthy ego?”

  He grinned. “So turned on by the sass.”

  She cocked a hip and traced the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry for lying to you. Last night happened way too fast for me.”

  “That I understand. That I get,” he said, kissing her softly on the lips. “Why don’t we try having dinner at my place tonight? I promise to be a very good boy.”

  She didn’t want him to be good. “Why bother? Having dinner with me, that is.”

  “I like you.”

  “You like what happened in your Jeep.”

  He grinned. “That too.”

  It was the grin that did it. And his honesty. “Still want me to bring my bikini?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  *** *** ***

  Kayla eased into the hot tub, submerging herself almost up to her shoulders. She groaned as the bubbles, heat, and jet streams worked together over her body.

  Bryce handed her a glass of white wine. “Very good for sore muscles.”

  She let her eyes roam over his body. Last night they’d kept almost all their clothes on, so she had only felt what he had going on underneath them. But now that he’d changed into nothing but a pair of board shorts that hung loosely on his hips...she was hot and needy.

  His abs were like the antique washboard her grandmother had used to wash clothes. And that little sprinkling of dark hair in the center of his chest—yes, please.

  His brow furrowed. “White’s fine with you? If not, I have some red or—”

  “It’s perfect. I love it.” Taking a gulp of wine, she let her head drop forward. It wasn’t classy, but her back and her butt hurt, and she almost got caught staring at him. “By the way, this tub and your super smooth way of getting me in it—major points. I’m never leaving. You’ll have to move my café here, and I’ll serve customers from this very spot.”

  Tan, bare feet and legs were lowered into the water, followed by rock hard abs and muscular chest. Broad shoulders came into view, and Kayla forced her gaze downward again. “Guess I’ll have to start charging rent.”

  “Name your price.”

  Another round of bubbles jetted against her thighs, hitting another spot that made her sigh in pleasure. “Whatever you want.”

  “Not sure if I approve of the uniform.” He toyed with the strap of her swimsuit as he scooted closer to her. “Although...green is my favorite color, especially when it comes on a string bikini.”

  Their thighs touched.

  Bryce started rubbing her neck.

  She let out another appreciative moan.

  “Do you know how hard it was for me let you go this afternoon? I hated driving separately. I fucking hated waiting for you to show,” he said.

  His words made her stomach tumble. “I said I was coming.”

  “You also said that last night.”

  “I did come last night.”

  He gave a soft snort. “You know what I mean. That text—so not you. You’re not a liar.” His fingers continued to work their magic, rubbing at all the sore spots along her shoulders.

  “Why does it matter? You’re not looking for commitment. At least, not in Holland Springs,” she pointed out.

  He dropped a kiss into her hair. “Is that what you want—commitment?”

  “No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” She tilted her head to one side, and his lips coasted up her neck. “Eventually. I want a man who doesn’t clean out my bank account. Kids. Craftsman style house. Trips to the beach on the weekends.”

  “I’m an only child,” he said suddenly. “Lots of cousins, aunts, and uncles. This place belongs to my grandparents.”

  *

  Bryce bit back a smile as Kayla’s eyes popped to stare at him. Questioning. Yeah, he wanted in her head, but she was skittish. She’d been burned. Badly. Far worse than he’d ever been, and he needed her to get past that.

  Not so they could finish out his vacation with lots of sex—though he wasn’t opposed to that. The thing was that he really did like Kayla, and no woman should ever have a man treat her like Brad had.

  “We used to pile in three cars and drive down here in the summers. Wish I’d known you then. Pretty sure you would have fallen for my twelve-year-old charms.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure I would have.” Her smile fell a little. “But you wouldn’t have gotten the chance to try. I’m an only child, too... My parents were protective of me. My dad especially. It wasn’t easy once my mom passed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago, when I was thirteen. She went to sleep one night and then didn’t wake up. The coroner said it was a massive heart attack.” She shook her head. “It’s been almost fourteen years,” she mused sadly. “She loved to cook, you know? Went to culinary school and everything. Shocked everyone when she came back to Holland Springs and settled down with my dad. Not many people leave only to come back.”

  “She must have taught you a lot.”

  Kayla nodded, loose curls slipping from her bun to fall on her neck. “It was our thing. I miss her.” Her warm brown eyes turned liquid.

  “It’s amazing how grief hits you when you least expect it,” she added softly.

  “Tell me about your day,” he said. “I’m surprised you let Tommy near the stove.”

  She wiped the tears from her eyes and took another drink of wine. “He’s good. Really
good. Turns out he used to work at the Shake and Shack.”

  “You thinking of hiring him permanently, and not just to help his family out?”

  “Yes. If he keeps showing up on time and has a mostly good attitude.”

  “Mostly good?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Teenager.”

  His hands dipped lower, caressing the uppermost curves of her breasts. She tensed. “Relax. No sex. Just talking.” He kissed her cheek and nibbled on her jaw, pleased as anything when her grip tightened on the stem of the wineglass. “Did you go to culinary school, too?”

  “No, I’ve never had formal training.” She leaned against him, curvy body making his cock stand at attention from the contact. “Growing up, I sucked at schoolwork. I always had a hard time concentrating and sitting still. I wasn’t interested in reading... You know, all the things that girls were supposed to excel in.

  “But reading made my head hurt because all the words just ran together and sitting still was akin to being stuffed into a box and never let out. In school, I couldn’t breathe. I needed space and air. After I graduated from high school, I took off for a while, traveled the country. That’s how I met Brad. We met while I was a short-order cook in a diner in Kentucky. Then my dad suffered a minor stroke, and I decided it was time to come home. Brad followed. Made me think he was in it for the long haul.” She gazed at her wineglass. “The rest is history. History that I want to stay buried in the past. Preferably in a lockbox big enough for a man to lie down in.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  Her beautiful face became brittle, and then turned vulnerable. “Not long enough.”

  Chapter Eight

  Kayla always had a problem sleeping past six AM on the days the café was closed, and today was no exception.

  She stretched, yawing, willing every muscle in her body to go lax.

  True to his word, Bryce had only given her dinner and then a hot, albeit short, kiss goodnight.

  It had been an odd date to have considering they’d already had sex, but it was also sweet. He’d been sweet. Attentive. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he’d been loving.

  She did know better, and Bryce had a background in crisis training, which made him all the more appealing.

  It also made him more dangerous.

  Over a dinner of grilled steaks, baked potato, and a small salad, he’d shared stories about his job, about his family, and the time he’d dared his cousin to jump from the porch to the sand. The kid had jumped. So had Bryce. Only one of them had broken their arm.

  The memory of his wry smile while he rubbed his left arm made her feel all warm inside.

  Her phone buzzed. She rolled over in bed, smiling as she read Bryce’s text.

  Surf’s up. Wanna come play at my house?

  She glanced out of the window. Rain poured in buckets outside. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she replied.

  Let’s have a movie day. My place. One hour.

  Butterflies multiplied in her stomach as she waited for his answer. She didn’t know why. A simple date, and a third one at that, shouldn’t make her so nervous.

  Thirty minutes. I’ll bring beer.

  The butterflies began to soar.

  *** *** ***

  The rain had stopped by the time Bryce pulled into Kayla’s driveway. He grabbed the beer and started up the walkway, remembering to lock the Jeep at the last minute.

  “Back here,” he heard Kayla call out.

  His brow furrowed, but he padded around to the back of the house. He unlocked the gate and stepped inside to a little piece of paradise. The grass was emerald green, flowers blooming, but the best part was the view—nothing but pure water.

  He heard a door open and close, then Kayla join him. “It’s not the ocean, but I like it.”

  “It’s peaceful.” Water rippled as a sailboat passed by. Pelicans flew low, in one straight line.

  The wind blew through the low pine trees along the perimeter of her yard, filling his senses with her feminine scent. Her bare arm brushed his, and heat arced between them.

  He wanted her. Bad

  He’d been good last night. So good that he had to take things into his own hands as soon she left. It had been pure torture to rub her neck and kiss only the safe zones while forcing himself to go slow. To not slip his hand inside her barely there bikini top and pinch her nipples.

  She looked up at him at the exact same moment he looked at her. Their gazes collided. His heart slammed against his chest. She sucked in a breath.

  He reached for her. She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. He barely noticed the wood deck or the screened-in porch they had to go through first.

  Inside, her house was warm. Inviting. Pale colors and lots of pillows. Just like her—soft and pretty.

  “I don’t want you to be good, Bryce,” she said, taking the beer from him and setting it down.

  “I’m trying to be anyway,” he replied. He was. He really wanted to be the guy she deserved. He blinked at that wayward thought, and then chalked it up to being a cop. Chalked it up to his training. Chalked up to everything but what it could actually be.

  Kayla’s arms slid around his shoulders, her sweet breath fanning against his lips. “Then I’ll be bad enough for both of us.” She gave him a fleeting kiss and sank to her knees, her fingers trailing behind her.

  He stood there in shocked amazement as she unbuttoned his shorts and slipped her hand inside. Pulling out his cock, she made a noise. “So hard, and we haven’t even gotten started.”

  Bryce was pretty sure that was his line, only his adjective would be wet. Man, he hoped she was wet. He hoped that touching him like this got her hot and needy for him.

  She licked the tip of him, and he slowly brought his hands down to tunnel into her hair. He wrapped thick curls around his fingers, rocking his hips forward to meet her hungry mouth. She licked him from the base to the head, and repeated the motion.

  He cursed.

  Her pink mouth wrapped around him once more, and he tightened his grip. “Don’t move. Let me go deeper in that pretty mouth of yours.”

  She gazed up at him, her lashes black against the pale skin. Her tongue swirled around him in answer. He began to move, slowly at first, then as her eyes fluttered close and she began to make little noises in the back of her throat, he thrust deeper.

  The hot suction of her mouth was nearly his undoing. He wanted to come so bad that it took every ounce of self-control to stay focused. He wanted to enjoy this. The last time he’d had a blow job this good was...well, never.

  And that was the problem. Nothing was as good as Kayla.

  He pushed her back, and the head of him came out of her mouth with a sexy little pop. “I wasn’t finished.”

  “We’re not finished.” He scooped her up and glanced around the house, zeroing in on her bedroom. Stalking to the room, he laid her down in the middle of the bed and stripped her out of her short little shorts and baggy sweatshirt.

  “No bra,” he said with an appreciative grin.

  “Thought you might like that.”

  With that same grin still in place, he undressed himself in no time flat and crawled up the mattress. Before he settled himself between her thighs, he took the time to just stare at her. At her sweet tits, rounded hips, and the flare of her waist. At the thin strip of light hair on her mound and the long legs that went on for days. He liked how she looked.

  No, he loved how she looked. She was strong, the sleek muscles in her arms and legs attested to that. Looming over her, he caressed her from collarbone to thigh, over and over, until she was shaking and reaching for him.

  Her mouth covered his as he positioned himself between her legs. His cock brushed her wet heat, and he groaned. “Condom.”

  Shoving away from the bed, he snagged the condom from his pocket and hurried to put it on, never taking his eyes off the woman waiting for him.

  She ran her hands down her body, cupping her breasts and playing with t
he nipples.

  “Damn it,” he swore. He’d never seen a sexier sight.

  Fingers tiptoed down her flat stomach, slipping in between that thin line of curls. Okay, now he’d never seen a sexier sight.

  Grabbing her hips, he pulled her to the edge of the bed and wedged his shoulders between her thighs. Her fingers never stopped moving as she touched herself.

  So he did what any man would do in this situation and helped her along. He teased her clit, tasted every part of her that he could get to, and kissed his way up and down each thigh.

  He relished her whimpers, her full-on moans as she got closer and closer to orgasm. Her back bowed and he stood, positioned himself at her core, and thrust his cock inside. Slipping his hand under her ass, he brought her tight against him and began to work in and out of her.

  She cried out his name, held onto his biceps, and writhed beneath him. Yeah, he knew how to make it good, but he could make it even better for her.

  For them.

  She rose up, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and pulled him to her. Her tongue sought his, her teeth nibbled, and her lips devastated. She kissed him hungrily, and he responded in kind. Somewhere along the way, she slipped off the edge of the bed, and they fell to the floor, laughing.

  “Don’t be mad,” she gasped. “I’m not laughing at you.”

  “Not laughing at you either.” He rolled her underneath him, bracing his arms along the side of her face, and slowed his thrusts.

  She gazed up at him with so much emotion in those chocolate-colored eyes of hers that the sight took his breath away.

  “Bryce,” she whispered and in that instant, something shifted.

  He kissed her tenderly, all the ways a man should with the woman who owned him. Yeah, he recognized the fact that this woman, a woman he’d only known for days, owned a piece of him.

  Chapter Nine

  Kayla was in heaven. Pure heaven.

  Something had changed between Bryce and her since last week when she allowed him inside of her head. Something wonderful had happened, and for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to think about a future with someone.