Dirty Play (A Nolan Brothers Series Novel ~ Book 3)

by Amy Olle

  Through the heat of mortification on her cheeks, she managed a weak smile. “I understand. I didn’t mean to—”

  His hand flattened on her hip, splaying to cover the upper swell of her bottom with possessive intent. He pulled her body tight against his. “But somehow, the rules don’t apply to you.”

  Chapter Four

  The wild fluttering beneath her breastbone dropped to her stomach even as her runaway thoughts sputtered to a stop.

  “You have rules?”

  One of his broad shoulders lifted beneath her hand. “More like guidelines, but I prefer to know a woman before I sleep with her.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  He peered into her eyes. “Don’t I?”

  His words pierced her, setting off a torrent of tiny tremors. “Maybe we need a few new rules. Just for us. Just for tonight.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “We’ll use protection.”

  “Of course,” he said easily.

  “We’ll spend one night together.” Fighting the pull of his poignant gaze, she forced out her next words. “Tomorrow, we walk away.”

  It was the perfect compromise, even if her heart wanted to rebel. Especially if. She sensed she was skating into dangerous territory with him, and a hookup didn’t violate her silly rules. There’d be no chance of losing her heart to him, not in one night. Nor could there be discussions about a future that didn’t exist for them.

  He gave his head a small shake. “No.” His palm smoothed over her back, which had the effect of quieting the protest that built in her throat. “Something tells me one night with you won’t be enough.”

  “I won’t commit to anything long-term.” The words launched from her. “I can’t.”

  He eyed her closely. “I’m here for a few days. Can you give us two or three nights, or is that too long-term for you?”

  A shaky breath of relief shuddered through her.

  “You’re really serious about this.” His tone, while gentle, held a hint of amusement. “I think I might be offended.”

  “Don’t take it personally.” She managed a self-deprecating smile. “I can’t commit to anything. Not a job or a hometown. Not even a brand of shampoo.”

  His head dipped, nuzzling close to her ear. He inhaled deeply. “I like this one.”

  Gooseflesh prickled over her skin.

  “Any other rules?” His lips brushed the sensitive spot beneath her earlobe.

  Of its own will, her head dropped to one side, giving him better access. “No slapping or hair pulling.”

  He stiffened.

  The words surprised her, too, and her spine stiffened.

  Dammit. The neck kissing threw her off.

  She dragged her gaze up from the strong column of his neck to his face. “I don’t really like rough sex. I had a bad experience once.”

  His expression darkened and his hold on her tightened, more protective than sexual. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.” His touch, unbearably gentle, soothed her. “And it doesn’t have anything to do with us now. Does it?”

  He appeared as though he might argue, but finally he shook his head. “No.”

  “Oh, and no more neck kisses.”

  His mouth quirked with a dry smile. “How specific.”

  “I can’t think straight when someone’s kissing my neck.”

  “That’s the point. You shouldn’t be thinking at all.”

  She frowned, puzzling over his words. “What about you? Anything you don’t want me to do?”

  Penetrating green-gold eyes captured hers. “I don’t want you to do a single thing you don’t want to do or that makes you uncomfortable. At all. I think if we follow that one rule, we’ll do just fine together.”

  A tangle of emotions rushed over her. Relief mingled with hunger, and something else that made her chest ache with the fullness of it all. She’d never spoken about the painful parts of her past with a guy before, and she didn’t know why she’d told Jack now. Except she trusted him. She felt safe with him.

  Safe enough to go somewhere secluded with him.

  The liquid warmth simmering low in her belly spiked with need. She should’ve tried the honesty bit sooner. It was a heady rush, and thoroughly arousing.

  “Where are you staying?” The low timbre of his voice sloped through her.

  “At Emily’s inn.” She hesitated, but only briefly. “But we can go to your place, if you want.”

  He studied her closely. “I think we should go to the inn.” His hand at the small of her back, he turned and motioned her ahead of him as they left the dance floor.

  She took a step just as a waitress bustled through the crowded space carrying a tray filled with drinks. The waitress stumbled and lurched. The tray teetered. Jack’s hand shot out and caught her by the elbow before she went down, but not before the tray dipped and the cocktails slid to the edge where they hovered a moment before toppling over. Onto Jack.

  Pink and red liquid soaked through his white shirt.

  A strangled screech wrenched from the waitress. “Omigod, I’m soooo sorry.” She pitched forward with a towel, shoving it into his chest. “I’m so so so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Jack held his hands out at his sides while she mauled him with the towel. “Nicole, it’s okay.”

  “I can’t believe I did that.” Her wide eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked as she repeated, “I can’t believe I did that.”

  At the first tear to leak down her cheek, Jack plucked the towel from her grip, placed both of his hands on her shoulders, and guided her to a nearby table.

  When she plopped down in a chair, he glanced at Haven. “Will you sit with her for a minute?”

  “Sure.” Haven approached the table as Jack plunged into the crowd.

  Nicole’s dark eyes latched on to Haven. “Do you think he’s going to tell his brother?”

  “I don’t—”

  “I can’t lose this job.” Nicole twisted in the chair, trying to catch a glimpse of Jack.

  “He won’t get you fired. I promise.” She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did.

  Nicole wilted. “I can’t believe I dumped that tray on him.”

  Haven had done it. Hadn’t everyone who’d ever worked in a busy bar? At some point, the mix of dim lighting and drunk people caused spills to happen. It was an occupational hazard.

  Nicole rubbed her forehead. “I’m just so tired. This is supposed to be my night off. My son’s at home sick with a cold and the babysitter keeps calling.”

  Jack reappeared, his slow smile warming Haven from the inside out. He set a soda and two slices of cheese pizza on the table in front of Nicole.

  “Here we go. Why don’t you eat and head home.” He shot Haven a look of apology. “We’ll finish up.”

  Nicole stared at the pizza. “You brought this for me?”

  “Shea tells me you aren’t even supposed to be working tonight.” Jack shook off his tuxedo coat. “That you just came in to help him out when the whole town surprised us.”

  Haven’s heart swelled. She was right about Jack. His concern for the waitress that’d dumped a tray of drinks on him proved it.

  Nicole lifted the soda to her lips and sucked down a greedy gulp. “I need the hours. Shea’s doing me a favor letting me work overtime.”

  “Then we’re even.” He removed his tie and unfastened the top button of his dress shirt. “If you leave now, you might be able to say good night to Brandon.”

  Haven repressed a dreamy sigh. This man, this moment, would never happen again. He was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And there was no way she was going to let him slip away.

  Nicole started to stand. “Let me help.”

  “Honestly, it’s not necessary.” He pulled the wet dress shirt away from his body and tossed it over the back of the chair with his coat. A black tribal tattoo danced up one forearm and disappeared under the sleeve of his white undershirt, though a sliver of
the black ink peeked out from under the pristine white neckband to lick the side of his neck. “We’re about to shut it down. The bride and groom have disappeared and the rest of us are ready to call it a night. You go home. We got this.”

  At his inclusion of Haven in his family “we,” her heart fluttered.

  A piece of pizza poised before her, Nicole smiled. “Thanks, Jack.” She bit into the gooey pie.

  When Haven pushed to her feet, Jack’s gaze found hers as he rounded the table.

  He sidled close. “I’m so sorry about this. Give me a half hour or so, and then we can get out of here.”

  A delicious shiver chased up her spine at the seductive drop in his tone.

  “It’s okay.” She surveyed the crowd. “I’ll start here, if you want to take the tables in the back?”

  “I can’t ask you to help. You’re a guest.”

  An unfamiliar flash of insecurity struck her, but she ignored it and told him the truth. “I’ve worked in a bar for the last ten years. I was a waitress for three years before I started bartending. I can help you.”

  She watched him closely, curious to see if a college professor would suddenly experience a change of heart about hooking up with a bartender/waitress.

  His soft smile caught her by surprise. “Thank you.” Then he tossed her a dry towel and backed away. “Let everyone know its last call.”

  They set off in opposite directions to work their tables and a half hour later the crowd had thinned by half. A pretty redhead Jack called Mina jumped in to help clear tables while Noah and Shea worked away in the back rooms, closing down the bar and the kitchen.

  At one of the larger tables, Haven loaded a tub with dirty dishes when Jack appeared close at her side.

  Once, a man of his size would’ve scared her, but somehow Jack, in all his maleness and vitality, didn’t. Maybe it was because he was a college professor, or because she’d told him something of her past and he’d made her a promise.

  “This should do it.” His chest muscles rippled beneath his T-shirt as he lifted the basin she’d filled. “Let me go wash these, and then we can go.”

  His potent gaze tangled with hers and her heart hammered as though she stood at the cliff’s edge staring down the impossible drop-off. Was she really going to go through with it?

  Everything in her—all that she was and all that she was not—begged her to go anywhere with him, the desire so strong it felt necessary. Inevitable. She couldn’t walk away, not before seizing this moment with him.

  Outside, the storm had pushed on and brilliant stars poked through the black canvas of night sky. Having lived in big cities all her life, she’d never seen so many stars. Jack caught her staring up at them, her mouth slack. The smile in his eyes possessed a sensual fire, and as she gazed back at him, she began to wonder if this island was enchanted by some special magic.

  At a black car, he grabbed a duffel bag from the backseat and then they crossed the snow-covered street together to pile into Haven’s rental car. Though the road conditions, made difficult by the storm, required all her focus, in the cramped sedan her acute awareness of him heightened. His scent, his solid warmth. The way he watched her from behind hooded eyes.

  By the time they reached the inn, her nerves were strung tight and her body hummed with need.

  The house-turned-bed-and-breakfast was quiet and dimly lit when they entered through the front door. Upstairs, she led Jack to her bedroom, closing the door softly behind them. She’d left on the table lamp, and its faint glow cast a cozy warmth over the room.

  She removed her coat and a chill chased through her. Jack crossed to the fireplace and flipped the switch on the wall next to the mantle. A soft flame flickered to life in the stone enclosure.

  In the quiet, they stood on opposite sides of the room and gazed at one another in the shimmer of firelight for a time.

  “Haven.”

  That was all he said. Only her name.

  The aching want in her unfurled.

  With trembling hands, she reached for the knot at her side where her wrap blouse tied. When she finally managed to pull the fabric free, she let the shirt slide off her shoulders and fall to the floor.

  The column of Jack’s throat worked when he swallowed.

  She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her skirt and inched the stretchy fabric down over her hips. Soon, she stood before him in only her bra and panties.

  His hungry gaze devoured her.

  A hitch of insecurity struck her with a sharp lash. She ate too much, drank too much, and the leanness of her youth had faded in recent years.

  But she saw no judgment or disappointment in his questing gaze. Indeed, the way he looked at her, like a starving man who’d spotted a wedge of chocolate cake, accelerated the rhythm of her heart into a frenzied pulse.

  Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra and let the garment fall away from her body.

  His appreciative gaze latched on to her breasts. They were large and for the most part a nuisance, but men sure seemed to like them. A lot.

  He removed his tuxedo jacket and laid it on the accent chair in the corner of the room. Then he yanked his white undershirt over his head. Her breath caught.

  The tribal tattoo on his forearm unfurled up his arm, over his bicep and shoulder to lick the side of his neck. Even with his clothes on, she’d been able to tell he was fit, but unexpected muscle definition cut across the plane of his abdomen and full, round pecs.

  This guy was a college professor? If her professors had been half as glorious, she never would’ve left school.

  She went to him and, standing before him, smoothed her hands over his muscled torso. He took her face in his hands and bent his head low to take her mouth in a soft, lingering kiss.

  Her fingers found the waistband of his pants and together they worked the fastening.

  She slid the tuxedo pants away from his body and gazed down at him. Good Lord, the man was simply glorious. The cotton fabric of his underwear struggled to contain his bulge and his big, powerful thighs.

  She licked her lips. Seriously, he made tight white boxer briefs look sexy as hell.

  He touched her chin and nudged her face up. “You okay?”

  She nodded, unable to form words just then, her thoughts fracturing the moment she caught sight of his delicious bulge.

  Her hand slipped down to find his, and she pulled him with her as she backed up to the bed. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she pulled him closer. While he stood before her, she eased his boxers down over his hips and thighs.

  His heavy erection bobbed free.

  A groan of longing reverberated in the back of her throat. He was big. Possibly the biggest she’d ever been with. She wanted to taste him—and did. A tiny, tentative lick with the tip of her tongue.

  His sharp intake of breath sent a thrill zinging through her, but then he pulled back.

  His hand slipped to her nape. “Thank you, but I want this to last longer than the next two minutes.”

  She laughed.

  Had she ever laughed while naked with a man?

  At one time, she knew a thousand ways to please a man, and she tried to recall some of them then, for she very much wanted to please this man.

  On the bed, she twisted around and, with a glance over her shoulder, placed her knee on the mattress.

  His hungry gaze latched on to her bottom. He drew the waistband of her panties down over her hips. Her heart racing, she arched her back and his palms smoothed over her naked globes.

  A growl sounded in the back of his throat and his hardness pressed between her legs. He wrapped his solid warmth around her and hooked an arm around her ribcage, holding her tight against him while the flat of his other hand smoothed over her abdomen, and lower.

  With feathery strokes, his fingers brushed along her slit. While he worked her body, low, incoherent sounds piled in her throat. She grew lost in the feel and smell of him wrapped around her, and in the pulsating sensation at her core.


  His husky voice, thick with want and need, whispered something near her ear. Then she felt his hands between their bodies, sliding a condom into place.

  It brought her back to her senses.

  She rolled onto her back and parted her legs before him. The unique light in his eyes flared. He gazed down at her while his erection stood proud against his abdomen and his chest rose and fell with his breathing.

  The throbbing between her thighs threatened to pull her behind the veil of lust once more, so she arranged her features into a once well-practiced face. Her lips slightly parted, her eyelids heavy, she traced tiny circles on her stomach, above her mound, with one tantalizing finger.

  Jack’s hand smoothed up the length of her thigh and his clever fingers teased at her opening. He pushed a finger inside her and stroked her folds in a slow, smooth rhythm. With his lashes half-lowered, his hungry gaze riveted to the place where he worked her body, his expression intent and penetrating.

  The world began to recede beyond the haze of her arousal and she struggled to pull herself back from the fog. She arched her back so that her breasts jutted upward to appear fuller, perkier, when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  He lowered himself over her and the tip of his penis nudged at her entrance. She tilted her hips to take him more fully. He went deeper and held, waiting for her body to yield to him by slow degrees.

  Then he started to pump. A startled gasp of pleasure tore from her, which she concealed with a lusty moan. The excruciating friction drove her to the brink, so she reached between their bodies to cup his balls. She moaned his name and guided him toward release with her expertise.

  But he refused to travel too far without her.

  He cupped her breast and brushed the pad of his thumb across the sensitive bud. Then his tongue followed with a slow, feathery lick. A jolt of electricity arced from her heart to her core.

  She didn’t know what was happening to her, but she pulled her legs open wide until her muscles ached, her body desperate to give him the access he wanted.

  He slid in and out of her with increasing urgency, and she reached up to brush a lock of his dark hair off his forehead. Her chest ached, but she didn’t care. This guy was worth the pain.