He glanced at his impromptu wine bucket—okay, it was actually a galvanized bucket filled with two trays of ice cubes, but it was doing a decent job of chilling the bottle of wine he had borrowed from his grandmother six months ago. And both wineglasses were chip free.
The water turned off.
Thorne jumped onto the couch, casually draping an arm over the back, and propped his bare feet on the box he’d covered with a pillowcase so he could use it as a coffee table.
A few seconds later, he heard the bathroom door open and the distinctive clickity-clack of the demon dog’s toenails on the tiled hallway.
Dog and owner entered the living room and stopped.
Summer surveyed the room, complete with the lit candles sputtering in the empty beer bottles, and smiled.
The dog bared her teeth and growled.
“Okay, that’s it, Lola.” Summer scooped up the dog and marched back to lock her in the bathroom.
Taking a deep breath, Summer closed her eyes, remembering the seductive scene in the living room. At least she hoped it was set for seduction.
She certainly was.
But did she have the guts to follow through with the lusty plan she’d formulated in the heat of the shower? She didn’t have much experience as the aggressor. Okay, she didn’t have any experience.
Miss Laura’s voice echoed in her mind: You’ll never get the experience if you fail to take a chance.
17
“Hi,” Summer said in a breathless voice when she reentered the room.
Thorne was still semi-reclined on the end of the couch, but she noticed he’d poured two glasses of wine. As she approached, he stood and handed her a cool glass.
“Thanks.” She took a sip and sat on the couch. Thorne followed her. “Um. This is good. I like sweet white wine.”
His smile seemed even whiter by candlelight. “My grandmother does, too. It’s from her wine rack.”
Summer laughed, relaxing into the cushions. “My gram always liked sweet wine, too.” She took another sip and tried to tamp down the emotion choking her at the thought of her late grandmother. “She’d have loved this,” Summer said in an emotion-clogged voice. Her hand did a small, encompassing wave. “All of this. She loved the beach, beach houses, sweet things like wine and chocolate.” Their gazes met. “And handsome men,” she finished in a whisper.
“Oh yeah? You think she’d think I was hot?” He scooted closer to Summer, his body heat causing a bead of sweat to trickle down her back, under the sweat suit.
“Stop hinting. You know you are.”
“Aren’t you hot?”
Setting her glass on the makeshift table, she decided not to play coy. “Well, I’d never really thought about it, but I guess I’m okay looking—”
His laugh made her stomach quiver.
“You’re more than okay looking and you know it. But that’s not what I meant. I mean literally. Aren’t you hot with no air conditioning and wearing sweats?”
“Oh!” Inhaling her sip of wine, she choked at the burning sensation filling her throat. Relieved when Thorne took her glass, she covered her fiercely blushing cheeks with her hands. How stupid could one girl be? Of course he was talking about wearing sweats in the heat. He must think she was an idiot.
“Hey. You okay?” His voice was close when she nodded. Very close. So close she could smell the wine on his breath. Still sweet. “I think you’re overheated from wearing so much garb.”
“You do?” She relaxed a little, allowing him to push her hands down while he trailed light kisses along her hairline.
“Mm-hmm.” He nuzzled her neck, then kissed his way to her jaw. “Short-circuits the thought waves,” he murmured, nibbling the edge of her lips. He brushed a kiss across her suddenly starving mouth. “Don’t worry; I know exactly what to do.”
“Oh?” She sank into the deliciousness of his kiss as he lowered her deeper into the cushions of the old couch.
“First,” he said against her lips as he broke the kiss, “we need to get you out of some of this before you get heatstroke.”
“If you say so. After all, you’re the professional.”
Cooler air swept up her rib cage when he pulled up the hem of her sweatshirt. She breathed a sigh of contentment.
“Better?” His hands found their way beneath the remaining portion of the shirt to cup her breasts.
“Oh … yes.” Arching her back to better fill his hands, she strained for his lips.
“It’s going to be hard to kiss you with all these clothes between us.” He pulled the sweatshirt over her head, throwing it away from the couch.
They groaned at the feel of skin on skin.
“Better?” he asked, again kissing the side of her throat as he made his way downward.
She nodded, breath lodged firmly in her lungs, but didn’t know if he saw her, since he was cupping her breast in his hand, alternately licking and blowing on the puckered nipple. She had problems regulating her breathing.
“We should probably get you out of these, too.” He shoved at the elastic waistband.
Her heart tripped. She’d never been a particularly sexual person. Did she dare let go of her inhibitions with Thorne? She knew she could trust him with her body. But could she trust him with her heart?
The thought stunned her. Her heart? Her heart had been securely protected for over a year now. She’d just met Thorne, but she sensed he had the potential to make whatever heartache she thought she’d had with Cory look like a junior high emotion. Was she willing to risk it?
Yes.
Thorne clenched his hands in a fist as he dragged the thick sweats from Summer’s delectable body. He’d suspected she went commando beneath the bulky outfit, but now he knew.
He wasn’t sure he could handle it. Handle her. Ah, damn, why did she have to look at him like that? Why were his hands shaking at the thought of touching all that smooth skin?
Why was he talking to himself?
Thorne had always been too busy, too self-centered, too whatever, to have a serious girlfriend. He only dated women who had the same attitude.
And now here he was, allowing three old ladies to stay in his cabin while he all but dragged the woman beneath him to his less than habitable beach house. Was she screaming, running for the door? Hell no. She was lying there, naked like some sex goddess, looking at him like … like he was something special.
What the hell was he going to do now?
18
He’s going to bolt. Summer could see it in his face. One second he was huffing and puffing, trying to devour her, his hands everywhere, and the next he had a definite deer in the headlights look.
Damage control. She needed damage control. Big-time.
But what?
Of course, she did what she had to do—she grabbed the waistband of his pajama bottoms, scarcely noticing the softness of the well-washed plaid fabric, and tugged.
The rippled muscles of his abs contracted, bowing into his abdomen, and the bottoms slid lower over jutting hip bones to snag on something else that was jutting.
His warm hand seized her wrist, halting her progress.
If she’d thought she’d experienced heat before, it was nothing compared to what she saw in his eyes. Holding her breath, she glanced down at the obvious bulge and licked her suddenly dry lips.
“Don’t.” His breath hissed through his teeth.
Swallowing around the lump of fear and excitement, she dragged her gaze up, ever so slowly up to meet his. What she saw made her want to squirm on the rough fabric of the sofa. Instead, she steadied her nerves and took a deep breath. She wanted him. Really, really wanted him. If she stopped now, she just knew she wouldn’t have him. Possibly never would have him.
That wouldn’t do.
Praying she’d interpreted his expression correctly, she boldly toyed with her nipple in what she hoped was a provocative manner.
It surprised the heck out of her to find it felt pretty dang good.
Resum
ing the all-important eye contact, she half-whispered, “Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at me like that.” Pinning her with his weight, he grasped and held their joined hands above her head, his clothed erection pressing intimately against her nudity. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Oh?” In extreme slow motion, she tugged her left hand free, then dragged it down his damp shoulder, over his ribs, not stopping until she reached his waistband, low on his hip. It only took a slight movement to raise her head and trace the small cleft in his chin with the tip of her tongue.
Against her breast, his heart pounded out a message telling her he was not immune to her actions.
Emboldened, she slid her hand between their stomachs, not stopping until she closed her fingers around the outline of his impressive erection. A slight squeeze had his breath catching and Summer biting back a smile.
Score one for the good girl.
As she thought about her next move, he surprised her by sliding down until his hot lips covered her nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth. Now it was her turn to have a catch in her breathing.
Glorying in the sensations rushing through her, she lay there, scarcely breathing, in awe at the sheer beauty of the man doing such delightful things to her willing body.
Catching a moan of disappointment when the cool air bathed her newly released breast, she didn’t have time to protest before Thorne kissed his way down and situated his broad shoulders between her now widespread legs.
“Pretty,” he said in a low voice, his breath on her wetness sending shivers to every nerve ending, puckering her nipples.
Her hips bucked when he trailed a fingertip along her desire-swollen folds. Would it show a total lack of control to beg him for more?
Instead of closing his mouth over her weeping flesh, as she’d assumed he would do, he surprised her by plunging his fingers deep.
She clamped her legs tightly together.
This would not do. She was the sexual instigator this time and here she was just lying on the couch like a sacrificial virgin.
Not gonna happen.
Shoving on his firm, tanned chest, she finally got a little space and didn’t stop until she had neatly flipped their positions. It meant losing the sexy feel of his fingers, at least for a while, but it couldn’t be helped.
She was woman; hear her roar.
It wasn’t as easy as it seemed in the movies, but she finally managed to get up onto her knees on the narrow couch and knee-walked backward, taking his pajama bottoms with her.
For a few world-stopping seconds, she rocked back on her heels, glorying in the moment, thrilled with her sexual aggression.
But when she realized Thorne was rallying, attempting to move, she knew she had to act. Fast.
Licking her lips again, she meant to let her body slowly lower in a gentle sexy glide until they were breast to chest. In her mind, she saw her slink lower and lower still until her mouth closed over the part of him eagerly straining toward her.
Unfortunately, her mind saw a totally different view than was reality.
Mid-glide, she lost some of her balance and most of her momentum, causing her to do what some might consider a belly flop.
It left Thorne breathless, all right, but not in a good way.
19
“Your elbow,” Thorne wheezed. “Move your elbow!”
Realizing the hard ridge was definitely not his hip, Summer gasped and struggled to get off the sofa with what little dignity she had left.
And promptly fell on her backside onto the cold tile.
Thorne jumped up, tangling his feet with hers in his pajama pants, and fell with a muffled curse, knocking the breath out of her.
Down the hall, Lola barked wildly, her toenails sounding loud as she clawed at the bathroom door.
A buzzing sound had Summer shrieking as she hopped back on the couch.
“What’s that? A snake? A bug? If it’s a bug, it has to be huge! I—”
“It’s my cell,” Thorne said with a laugh, scooping the phone up off the tile. “Damn.”
Their eyes met.
“I have to go.” He stood, shoving his legs into his pajama pants. “It’s the station.” He strode toward the back of the house, presumably to the bedroom to get dressed.
Thorne was a firefighter. Firefighters fought fires. And with the drought the little coastal town was experiencing, it only made sense he would be on call more than he was home.
She pulled her sweatshirt back over her head, not really caring when she noticed it was inside out, and reached for her discarded pants.
Down the hall, Lola howled louder.
Thorne came down the hallway, almost running into Summer as she made her way to get her dog.
“Sorry.” He steadied Summer, his hot hands practically burning holes in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. Warm lips brushed her forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She stood for a while after the screen door banged shut, after she heard his truck fire up and the sound of his engine fade away. Slowly, she brought her hand up to touch her fingers to the damp spot where Thorne’s lips had touched.
Slow steps took her down the hall to get her dog.
She opened the door and groaned. “Lola! Bad dog!”
Lola had found the toilet paper and redecorated the bathroom. It looked like a blizzard had struck.
No sirens split the air. Thorne frowned at the readout on his cell, then connected. “Hey, Martinez, what’s up?”
“Where the hell are you, man? You need to get to your motel, pronto!”
Thorne pressed harder on the accelerator as his truck flew low down the asphalt coastal highway. “Shit! Another fire?” No doubt about it, he had to have the whole place rewired.
“Worse, dude.” Martinez sounded suspiciously like he was smothering laughter.
“Okay, I’m pulling into the lot. Where are you?”
Martinez stepped into the courtyard and waved his arm.
Thorne slid his truck in the dirt to come to a stop a few feet away from his friend and hopped out of the cab.
“Where’s the fire?” His gaze darted around the courtyard, past the lone fire truck. “Is it already under control? Was it just one unit?”
Martinez gripped Thorne’s shoulder and pointed. “Oh, there was a fire, all right, but it was just a harmless bonfire in the middle of the motor court.”
“I don’t understand. Why the call? What is the vehicle doing here?”
“Oh, you will, bro; you will.” Still holding Thorne’s shoulder, Martinez guided him around the truck. “Got a nine-oneone reporting flames coming from the old motel. Knowing it was your place, we lit out like a bat out of hell.” His hand on Thorne’s shoulder tightened, turning Thorne. “And that’s what we found.”
Thorne followed the direction Martinez indicated and saw Laura, Flora, and Cora wrapped in blankets beside a bonfire.
He strode to the women. “What happened? Are you all right?”
Laura straightened, casting him an imperious glare. “Of course we’re all right! We were just checking off yet another thing from our to-do list, but these—these men don’t seem to understand.”
“They’re not the only ones,” Martinez muttered.
“What, exactly, don’t they understand, Miss Laura?”
“This!” Laura dropped her blanket, revealing more pale, wrinkled skin than Thorne ever wanted to see.
Her sisters followed suit, which led the attending firemen to act quickly to reinstate the blankets.
Thorne clamped his palm over his eyes. “My eyes! Miss Laura! Why on earth would you and your sisters want to parade around … like that?”
Laura released a pent-up sigh. At least, he thought it was Laura—he wasn’t about to look.
“You can turn around now,” she said in a reasonable-sounding voice. Of course, she’d sounded reasonable before—right before she and her sisters had flashed him.
He peeked through his fingers,
relieved to see the old ladies were once again covered from shoulder to bare feet in gray blankets. “What were you thinking?”
“Have you ever heard of the bucket list?” she countered.
“You mean the movie?”
“Not really. I mean a list of things you want to see or do before you die.”
He nodded, not at all sure he liked where this seemed to be heading.
“Well, we made ours a few years ago. Oh, don’t look so shocked; we’re in our eighties, you know. Where was I?”
“Our list,” Flora, or maybe it was Cora, reminded her.
“Right. Our list. One of the things on it was to dance naked in the moonlight.” Burp. “ ’Scuse me. Since we were alone for the night,” she paused, glaring at the firemen as they climbed aboard their vehicle, “and the courtyard was vacant, shielded from view of the street, we decided to check it off our list.”
Her sisters nodded like it was a perfectly rational thing to do at—he glanced at his watch—two o’clock in the morning.
Thorne raked his hand through his hair. For this he’d left a warm, willing female.
“You’re okay?” The three women nodded, pulling their blankets closer around their nudity. He turned to his friend. “And there was no damage? No problems? Paperwork?”
“Not unless you want to press charges for reckless intoxication.”
Thorne bit back a smile when he heard the women gasp. “I know I probably should, but I know they didn’t mean any harm. Let’s all just go to sleep and forget it.” He turned to the women, who were now huddled against the door of the manager’s cabin, and pointed his finger. “No more drinking tonight, got it?” They nodded. “And no more fires or dancing naked. Is that clear?”
“Young man.” Cora stepped forward. “We know our rights. There is no law against adults over twenty-one drinking or being naked on private property.”
Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward. “There is when it’s my private property.”
After getting the sisters settled again, he wasted no time in driving back to the beach. Would Summer be willing to continue what they’d started? Was he willing?
Feel the Heat Page 16