Bared

by Jill Shalvis

  Amber looked her over, satisfied Emma wasn’t going to continue with the meltdown. “And as for why you’re doing this photo shoot for me…because you said you would! You said not to come back! You said you had it all handled! Well, honey, if I’d known that having it all handled meant you were handling Rafe, I’d have slapped some sense into you. He’s not a man you want to tangle your emotions with.”

  “I’m not sleeping with him.”

  “Good. Because he’s—”

  “I know what he is, Amber,” Emma said woodenly. “I’m just not sure you do.”

  “You’re mad at me,” Amber said with a sigh. “And I guess I deserve it.”

  “Yes,” Emma agreed, then sighed. “But I do like to run our lives, don’t I.”

  “Yes. So really, this isn’t all my fault at all.”

  “Things are going to change, Amber. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to take over and run your own life. No more calling me to bail you out of everything—I just can’t do it anymore.”

  Amber looked unnerved.

  “Yeah, I guess I deserve that. I’ll, uh, get the next fantasy shoot info.”

  Emma blinked. “Oh. Well—”

  “There’s not much left, anyway. Just September through December.”

  “I didn’t mean you have to finish the shoot.”

  “What did you mean?”

  She had no idea.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Amber said. “I think it’s the Harley-Davidson bike shoot next. Probably if I’d checked my calendar or with my agent, I’d know that already. But we both know how good I am at organization.” She let out a gusty sigh. “I guess I’m going to have to get better at that, too.”

  Surprising them both, she leaned over and hugged Emma, who could count on one hand the times Amber had ever done so.

  “Don’t be mad at me anymore.”

  Emma hugged her back. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at me.”

  “Because you’ve been boning Rafe?”

  “I haven’t been—” She broke off rather than confess. “We should be talking about you. You were with Stone today.”

  Amber laughed. “We needed to get it out of our systems. And boy, did we have fun doing that. We’re done now.”

  If only it were that easy for Emma.

  “So, about that motorcycle shoot—”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Emma said, a little too quickly.

  “But you just said—”

  “I know. Don’t listen to me.”

  Amber stared at her, then pulled back to get a better look. “What’s up? Is Stone right about the two of you being crazy about each other?”

  Well, they were something for each other. And quite frankly, crazy just might be the right word.

  But in any case, she wasn’t ready to put it into words. “Amber, you know how you got along in life just…winging it?”

  Amber laughed. “Yes. It’s a particular specialty of mine.”

  “And you know how you’re always saying I should try the same?”

  “You’re not telling me you’re going to start winging it, not with this man. Oh, no, because honey, you’re supposed to start with something small at first. Say, like…going to the grocery store without an alphabetized list. Then you can slowly work your way up to the top, to an advanced run. Rafe, now he’s an advanced run. Double diamond, baby. Do you know what I’m saying?”

  Emma knew what she was saying.

  But it was too late.

  “I have a thing for motorcycles,” she said to Amber. “A secret…fantasy thing.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” Okay, maybe not really.

  But she had her eye on the advanced run—the double diamond—and nothing else would do.

  15

  RAFE WALKED THROUGH HIS HOUSE, his pretty neighbor Irena at his side, taking notes on what he wanted to do to each room.

  “I’m so glad we’re finally getting together to do this,” she said, and shot him a little smile.

  It had taken him a few weeks to get in touch with her. He’d planned on doing everything for the house himself but found he was tired of living in such a sterile-looking place. “I still have a month or so of work left, but I thought we could at least get the ball rolling.”

  “I’d hoped you would call. I’ve been looking so forward to working with you.” She was dressed in blue trousers with a crisp white blouse that made him think of June Cleaver.

  Wife material, a small voice inside his head said. And she’s looking at you as if she wants to gobble you up.

  Let her.

  Instead, he kept his distance, not wanting to give off the wrong signal before he was ready.

  And he wouldn’t be ready until he got Emma out of his head, if that was even possible.

  “You’re going to love having the place fixed up,” she said, sidling closer. “We’ll make it a home.”

  He was counting on that. Only four more shoots for the fantasy calendar and he’d be done.

  Free.

  He would be able to hang around and enjoy himself. Do whatever struck his fancy.

  Irena’s face was tipped down now as she concentrated on the notes she was making on her pad, exposing her neck and throat. He tried, he really did, to feel attracted to her. To want to kiss her. After all, she lived right across the street. She was kind and sweet, she had her own life and, most of all, she was clearly attracted to him.

  Maybe if he could get a certain Emma Willis out of his head, he could handle this better. Emma, the little workaholic, the woman who ran scared every time he tried to get closer than sex.

  There, that helped a little, remembering that.

  They moved into the master bedroom now, which held his bed and a dresser and not much else. “I figure this room needs something,” he said. “But I can’t quite figure out what—”

  A brown-and-gray ball of fur leaped to the bed and stared at him defiantly, as if daring him to make her get down.

  “Hey, flea-ball, that’s my bed,” he said, knowing damn well she didn’t have fleas because just last night he’d finally been able to bathe her. The experience had left them both soaking wet and grumpy, but it had been worth it. Now she didn’t smell like three-week-old garbage.

  She only looked like it.

  Irena tossed her notes to the mattress and sat next to the cat, stroking her until the lazy little thing sprawled out over his covers and eyed him as if to say, You fool, you could have her stroking you, too, if you played your cards right.

  “I have some great ideas for this room,” Irena said, and patted the bed next to her. “Sit. I’ll show you.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Sit, silly.” And she pulled him down next to her.

  From the front of the house, his doorbell rang. Rafe assumed it was Stone with the proofs he’d been waiting on. Since he’d left the door open on purpose, Rafe called out, “Back here!”

  “Look at this.” Irena set the pad in his lap and leaned in close, pointing to the paper, making sure her hair fell away, exposing her cleavage. “I thought we could—”

  “Oh.” Not Stone, but Emma stood in the doorway to his bedroom, wearing jean shorts and a white T-shirt, hair down, no makeup, and looking so far from the hot, sexy model he’d gotten used to that for a second he just blinked at her.

  She was staring at him sitting on the bed next to Irena with a carefully blank expression on her face. “Excuse me, I thought you said to come in.”

  “I did. I—” Rafe didn’t understand the flash of guilt that went through him, because, damn it, he had done nothing wrong. But he didn’t have time to wallow in it because Emma was already gone. “Emma!”

  “Who’s that?” asked Irena, halting him at the bedroom door with her soft voice.

  He looked back at her sitting on his bed, just as his front door slammed. Ouch. He had no idea what Emma had wanted or needed, but one thing was certain. Whatever she’d come for, he’d never get it out of her now.r />
  “Can you excuse me a minute?”

  He reached the porch steps just as Emma’s car door slammed shut as well. He planted himself in front of her car as she put it into gear, hoping she wasn’t mad enough to run him over.

  Through her windshield, she waved him aside.

  Because of the sun’s glare he couldn’t see her expression, but that was probably a good thing. He held his ground and shook his head.

  She rolled down her window. “Move,” she said, and revved her engine.

  At least she’d put it in neutral to do so. Since he knew if he moved aside to walk up to the driver’s window she’d either drive away or run over his feet, he instead came right at her, stopping when his thighs brushed the front of her car. With his hands on the hood, he leaned in until he got past the sun’s glare and could see her expression good and clear.

  He’d expected anger. He’d expected aloofness, neither of which he felt he deserved, but that’s what he figured he’d get.

  He did not count on misery. “Come on out, let’s talk.”

  “You’re busy.”

  “I’m never too busy for you,” he said, shocked to find that utterly true.

  She blinked once, slowly. “Your girlfriend might disagree.”

  “Actually, I’m the neighbor, not the girlfriend.” Irena came into the street, ran a hand over Rafe’s back and smiled at him. “But I can certainly see you’re a little preoccupied. We’ll finish the design stuff later, whenever you’re ready.” And then she started walking across the street. She eyed Emma with curiosity but didn’t say another word and, a moment later, vanished inside her house.

  Rafe hadn’t removed his gaze from Emma, so he saw her roll her eyes at herself, mutter something, and then, reluctantly, with a good amount of humility in her gaze, look at him.

  “She’s your neighbor. She’s a designer.”

  “That’s right.” Suddenly enjoying himself, he leaned on the hood of her car as if he had all the time in the world. “Who did you think she was?”

  “You were on your bed,” Emma said.

  “We were going through the entire house, taking notes. But you know what’s fascinating, Emma? That you cared I had a woman in my room. It’s quite revealing, actually.”

  She rolled her eyes again, but didn’t rev the engine.

  “You know what I think?” he asked.

  “No, and I don’t want to know.”

  “I think you were jealous.”

  “I was not. I don’t have a jealous bone in my body.”

  He decided to let that one go, because he had an even more interesting question. “Why are you here?”

  “Because…I needed to know about the next photo shoot.”

  “But Amber’s back in town.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So it would have nothing to do with you.”

  “Right.” She closed her eyes. “I keep forgetting that part.”

  “In any case, why didn’t you just call Stone for the info?”

  “Because…Oh, just never mind.” Looking flustered, adorable and pathetic all in one bundle, she rested her head on the steering wheel.

  And that’s when he made his move. He came around to the side of her car. He reached in and turned off the engine, removing her keys. Then he shoved them into his pocket. Opening her door, he hunkered at her side.

  She still had her head down. “Go away.”

  “You came to see me.” He was still marveling over that. Because he couldn’t keep his hands off her for another second, he stroked her hair. “Do you have any idea how much that means to me?”

  Craning her neck, she eyed him from under her arm. “So I came to see you. So what. It was stupid.”

  “No, it wasn’t. But I’d like to hear the real reason why. Without hiding behind work, without hiding behind any excuse at all.”

  “But I don’t know why.”

  “Come on.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Fine. I just wanted to see you.”

  “There.” He unhooked her seat belt. “Was that so difficult?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  Laughing, he stood and pulled her out of the car. “Poor baby. Well, let’s make it even, then. I’m glad you came. I don’t know why, but there it is.”

  She stared at him as if he was crazy. “You’re the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

  “But you want me.”

  They stood facing each other in the middle of the street, Rafe holding on to her wrist just in case she decided to try bolting again.

  “Yes,” she admitted, not sounding very happy about it. “I want you. We’re too different and we would probably kill each other in the long term, but I’m not talking long term when I say I want you.”

  “What are you talking?”

  “Short term. Very short term.”

  He nodded. “As far as honesty goes, you’re pretty good at it.”

  “So what now, Rafe?”

  “Have you ever wanted a man before?”

  “Of course I have.”

  “No, I mean really wanted.”

  She stared at him, pride warring with honesty, but honesty won. “No. Not like this.”

  He softened both his hold on her and his voice. “Have you ever made the first move?”

  Now she looked away. “No. But I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Maybe you could do it,” she suggested. “Just…I don’t know…Grab me, kiss me senseless, something. Just get us started.”

  In all his life, he’d never felt so absolutely tender toward a woman. He wanted to do everything she’d said, but he shook his head regretfully. “I think you should do this. I think you need to do this.”

  “Fine. Here goes.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. “Do you want to go inside? Maybe get a drink and sit outside and talk or something? And not about the calendar or my work, but something else?”

  “Like…what?”

  She blinked. “Like what? What do you mean ‘like what’? I just want to go inside.”

  “And do what, Emma?”

  “You’re not making this easy.”

  “And do what, Emma?” he repeated gently.

  She let out a long sigh and fixed her gaze at a spot somewhere over his shoulder. “And finish what we’ve started too many times.”

  “Do you mean—”

  “Yes.” She put her hands on her hips. “So, do you want to or not?”

  “So romantic,” he said dryly, then laughed when she bared her teeth. He slipped both his hands in hers, then slowly drew them behind her back, snagging her body up to his. Holding her gaze, he leaned in, so that her breasts pressed up against his chest. Nice.

  So was the way her breath caught.

  “Rafe?”

  “I’m sorry, what was the question again?”

  “Are we going to…?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.” Though it killed him, he gave her a light kiss on the lips and lifted his head just a little. “So you want to go inside, make love for…how did you put it? The short term.”

  “Y-yes.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does this include you spending the night? Breakfast? What?”

  Her mouth opened, then closed. She tried glaring at him, but he didn’t back down.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in disbelief. “Any other guy would have had me in his bed by now, naked, and you’re out here clarifying the terms?”

  “Yep.”

  “But…why?”

  “Emma, when we first met, you didn’t even think you could have an orgasm with a man. We proved that theory wrong. Now, the way I see it, the only hurdle left is proving you can trust one.” He slid his jaw along hers. “Trust me,” he whispered. “Start this, instead of being led into it. Start it—show me what you want, without any of the fantasies from the photo shoot. It’s just you and me now. Just tell me what you want. Tell me a
nd then trust me to give it to you.”

  “All right,” she said.

  She snaked her arms around his neck and put her mouth to his ear. She let out a slow breath, as if garnering her courage, and it had him hard in two seconds flat.

  Then she pulled back, looked him right in the eyes and said, “I want you. I want you naked. I want you naked inside of me. I want to come with you like that. As for after that…I’d like to try something new—I’d like to wing it.”

  She gave a smile that was just a tad unsure, and also the most arousing, sensual thing he’d ever seen.

  “How am I doing?” she whispered when he’d just stared at her for several moments.

  “Good,” he said, and still didn’t move. “Really good.”

  Finally, she let out a laugh. “So? Can we? Now? Right now?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Right now.”

  16

  TOGETHER THEY TURNED toward Rafe’s house, just as a motorcycle came down the street. Emma could barely breathe with all the thoughts of what Rafe was about to do to her whirling in her head. But then he stopped, swore roughly, and took her hand and tugged her back toward her car.

  “What’s the matter?” He’d changed his mind. He didn’t want her. He was going to send her home, where she’d spend yet another night tossing and turning, unfulfilled, aching…

  “See that bike over there? That’s Stone.” He opened the passenger door. “Do you want to drive or should I?”

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere, quick. Unless you want to stay here and forget about—”

  “No,” she said. She wasn’t forgetting about anything, thank you very much. She’d come for some sort of end to this terrible yearning and anticipation and she wasn’t letting him out of her sight until she got it. “You can drive.”

  She watched as he came around and got in swearing when his knees bumped the steering wheel. Sliding the seat back, he started the car and drove off.

  On the bike, Stone craned his neck to watch them go, waving when they passed.

  Rafe didn’t wave back. Jaw tight, working the temperamental gear shift as if he’d been driving this vehicle all his life, he sped away.

  Emma stared at his hand on the gear stick. It was big, tanned and, she had good reason to know, calloused on his fingertips and palm. Just thinking about how that warm hand felt gliding over her breast, catching a little on her nipple, made her shiver.