by Abby Wood
Men. They were all like her father.
She shoveled another spoonful of strawberry preserves into her mouth and followed it with a healthy swallow of wine. She tapped her fist against the counter as the sweetness overloaded her head. Not only was Nate an asshole, he was a class act asshole.
The doorbell rang. She groaned. It was probably Ms. Lindsay, who lived next door, wondering why she arrived home late.
She picked up the jar, walked to the front door, and scooped more jam into her mouth before swinging the door open. "Everything is okay, Ms—
"Addy," Nate said.
She swung the door closed, but Nate blocked it with his hand and stepped inside. She backed up and pointed the spoon at him. "Get out."
"I want to apologize." He closed the door and slipped his hands into his pocket. "I've insulted you."
"You think?" She dug the spoon into the jar and stuffed her mouth full of jam.
"I made a couple phone calls. Well, my attorney made them for me while I followed you home. I was distracted trying to keep up with you. You do know how to drive the hell out of the Porsche." His mouth softened. "I'm sorry, Addy. I assumed you were supplying…services, but I was wrong. From all accounts, you're running a hell of a business."
Okay. Well, then. Um. She swallowed the bite of strawberries. That was the last thing she expected him to say.
She lifted her chin. "Apology accepted."
He closed the distance between them, took the spoon out of her hand, dropped it into the jar, and set it on the end table beside the couch. She backed up until her legs hit the cushions and put a stop to her retreat.
He swiped his thumb along the corner of her mouth. "Got a little something right here…"
She licked her lip, encountered his thumb, and swallowed a moan. His gaze heated, and her breath hitched. She inhaled swiftly, her breasts brushed against the front of him.
He lowered his head. "I'm going to kiss you."
"You can't," she said.
His gaze stayed on her lips. "Why not?"
Unable to help herself, she tapped her foot against his shoe. "Because."
He chuckled. "I wanted to kiss you the moment you looked into my car and saved my ass."
Really? She cleared her throat. "You didn't though, so it's too late."
"I thought you were a prostitute and playing me with your innocent act," he said.
She pushed against his chest. "Get out."
"Not going anywhere, Addy. I apologized. It was a stupid mistake."
This couldn't be happening. He was Nate Rafferty. Her fascination with him went back a few years, but she never, ever, went out with men in his circle.
"I don't know why you want to kiss me," she whispered. "Nothing can happen between us."
"You've got that wrong." His hand slipped under her hair and he cupped the back of her head. "Why do you think I offered you a job? I can't get you out of my head. If there's one thing you need to know about me, I get what I want…and I want you."
"Who says you can have me?" she said.
"Shut up, Addy," he murmured against her lips.
She closed her eyes, because more than anything, she wanted him to kiss her. His lips brushed hers, and he whispered, "Open your eyes."
Need made the act almost impossible but in the end, she dragged her eyelids open. "I don't know what you want from me."
"I want you to see who you're kissing." His breath tickled her face. "I want to be the only one you're thinking about when I finally take a taste of you."
Oh. That was nice. "Okay."
"Good answer," he murmured as he captured her lips.
For all his hesitation and concern, he went from slow to oh my God deep and delicious in a snap. All she could do was hold on to his shirt to keep from swaying. She met his tongue with her own. Dueling, stroking, sucking as excitement twirled low in her abdomen.
Nate slid his hands under her armpits and picked her up without breaking away from her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and continued to kiss him. In the back of her mind, she was aware of him walking. She only worried about one thing. She never wanted him to stop kissing her.
In the bedroom, she fell, taking him with her. He landed on top of her, braced on his elbows to cushion the landing. Her hands went to the front of his shirt, fighting with the buttons. He chuckled against her lips.
"Slow down, doll," he said against her lips. "I'll take care of you."
She gasped, letting her arms fall to the mattress. "What are we doing?"
"Right now, my hands are on you." He slid the bottom of her dress to her waist. "In a second, I'm going to taste you."
"Oh, God," she said on an exhale. "M-maybe we should slow down."
He stilled above her. "Give me one good reason."
How about they barely knew each other. Sure, he had her investigated after thinking she was a prostitute, and she gobbled up everything about him she could find on public domain, but she had no idea how many women he'd slept with or if he had a girlfriend. No, that wasn't true. He'd broken up with what's her name, Suzanne.
"I'll take it I can continue because you're not telling me no," he said.
She melted. Here, on her bed, she saw the sly and badass boy he claimed to have been in his past. It was the idea of what kind of trouble he could still get into that made her hot. Rumored to be out of control, a hot head, and running from the law most of his life, he was the forbidden fruit. Something about him, barely holding on to polite society, knowing he was hard and unbending to the core, thrilled her.
He slid down her body. She jolted. "Wait."
"What now?"
"I know I'm clean, but I don't know…"
"I am, too. But, I'll take care of you." He hooked his fingers on the side of her panties and dragged them down her legs. "I have a condom."
"Okay. Okay. Protection is a good thing." She stared at the ceiling and tried to ignore that he was between her thighs and—she came off the bed. "Oh. My. God. Nate."
His mouth remained on her, and he planted his hand on her stomach, pressing her back onto the mattress. She melted into the comforter. Every muscle in her body quit fighting, except one hidden deep inside her, making her quiver.
Nate growled against her. Her pleasure rose and she gave one final effort to raise her hand and grab his attention. Her fingers sank into his hair.
"Please," she tugged.
He kissed her way over her abdomen, over her ribs, and rose above her. She locked her ankles behind his calves, not letting him go as he extracted a condom out of his wallet, unzipped his trousers, and released his cock.
"Oh wow," she whispered, blinking at the sight of him.
His largeness, hardness, and sexiness, included every single part of him. He lowered himself down and nibbled on her neck. "Last chance, Addy. Let me have you."
She nodded against his shoulder, closing her eyes. "Please."
In careful concentration, he entered her. She held on to his arms braced on each side of her on the bed. His muscles constricted and became harder, if that was possible. She lifted her hips.
He withdrew slowly.
She bucked underneath him.
He slid in with all the care in the world.
She groaned in torment.
He held himself still.
"God, please." She dug her nails into his biceps.
On fire, she needed more. She squirmed below him. Each agonizing stroke spiraled her out of control.
"Fuck." He ground against her. "Look at me."
She inhaled a shuddering breath, so close, so fricking close. Then she opened her eyes.
The intensity of his gaze reached inside of her and brought her release. She convulsed in pleasure, wave after wave. His eyes warmed, and if she thought she was done, she found out differently.
One look from him and her body paid attention despite her mind reveling in the fastest, hardest orgasm of her life. Again?
"I knew it." He lowered
himself to his elbows. "Together now."
As if he dictated her every move, she held on to him. "Oh, God."
No longer did he keep tight control of his movements. He captured her mouth, and moved against her. Embers heated to burning flames, and she gave him back everything he gave to her. Hard, hot, and heavy. She wrapped her arms around his neck, straining for what she knew was again within her reach.
Then he growled, and she swallowed the sound. Her orgasm swept her away as he plunged inside of her and held himself still. She ran her hands over his shoulders, smiling at the tremors rocking his body. More than satisfied that she was the one who made Nate Rafferty, big man of the city, tremble in her arms.
He pressed his forehead against hers. "You're mine. If you're seeing anyone else, it stops now."
"You can't say that," she whispered. "We had sex. That's all."
He slipped out of her, rolling off the bed, and stood. "Where's the bathroom?"
She pointed to the door. He walked out of the room, and she mustered all her strength to curl into a ball.
He was delusional. What happened between them was nothing more than both of them getting caught in the moment. She was angry. He was—
She sat straight up. "Oh, Frick. He lied."
For the last two days, he believed she was a prostitute. She stood and yanked her dress down. He probably didn't even call his lawyer and find out what kind of business she ran. She closed her eyes and groaned. She played right into his hands.
Nate walked into the room. Sick inside, she turned away from him. He hadn't even removed his clothes and she'd been all over him.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck. "Come here."
She shook her head, but he'd propelled her around to face him. She pushed away. "I have an early morning. I'll walk you to the door."
"What's going on?" His voice low and cautious only angered her.
How could he not know? She'd let him go on believing she serviced men on the job. It was safer that way. He could get any woman he wanted, and she'd erected barriers so he wouldn't get the idea she was his for the fucking.
Except, she'd failed.
"Nothing." She shrugged, walking around him. "I'm beat. I had a long day, and then I went out with you and now—she fluttered her hand toward the bed—this."
"This?" He followed her out to the living room. "Do you want to fill me in on what happened? Because I thought you understood exactly what happened between us. I came to apologize. You were right there in bed with me, Addy. You came in my arms. Twice."
She swallowed. "Yes, I was there."
"Then tell me why you're in a hurry to get rid of me." He removed her hand from the doorknob. "I don't make it a habit to sleep with every woman who catches my eye. I also don't make promises I don't plan to keep."
"I get it. You don't want me to have sex with other men." She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "That came across real clear. But, I don't make promises. I also don't date men like you. So as much as I enjoyed tonight, well the last part of it, I won't be repeating it again. You're also not allowed to use my services at Carpool Dolls or visit me at my house again. Is that perfectly clear…Mr. Rafferty?"
His mouth tightened and he stepped toward her. Leaning down, he stopped inches from her face. She used all her strength to square her shoulders under the intimidating size of him.
"Tomorrow night, I'll ring your doorbell. You're going to answer," he said. "Then we're going out on a date."
She snorted. "In your dreams."
His eyes softened. His lips twitched. She glared. The jerk was laughing at her.
"Oh, I'll dream of you." He pressed his lips to her forehead. He simply held her head while he inhaled and ended with a soft smack of his lips to her forehead. "Sweet dreams, doll."
He opened the door and strode out of her life. She stood, staring out at him as he opened his car. She had no idea how to handle a man like him.
Nate paused at the driver's door. "Lock the door, Addy."
She jolted, stepped back, and slammed the door shut. Leaning her head against the wood, she fingered the deadbolt and flipped the lock. Her heart raced. He was coming back tomorrow. She pressed her lips together and screamed in frustration. She was not going out with him. Ever.
Chapter Five
At four o'clock, Nate walked out of his office and straight to the florist shop. Then he went home to his house in the North Hills, hit the weights, showered, and hoped he'd worked off enough energy to keep himself out of Addison's bed.
He hardened thinking about his date, and wanted to skip the frills. Last night turned out better than he imagined. The way she'd stood up to him amused him, and he'd have fun beating her stubbornness out of her.
Other women had tried to control him, and in the end they cowered before him, taken by surprise. Yet, Addy fought him every step, despite her body saying otherwise. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the way he was feeling. She changed when he kissed her, and it was as if a switch flipped inside of her. She let herself go, holding nothing back from him.
It was at that moment, he was positive he was right. She was a submissive.
She hid it well, almost too well. A businesswoman, setting her own rules, and even being okay with him believing she was a prostitute. It was all a cover. Why?
To keep him away? To protect herself? Tightness grew inside of him, and he rubbed his chest to ease the tension. She was a challenge.
On the way out of the house, he grabbed the flowers, the extra garage door opener, and walked into the garage. He eyed the Harley Davidson and climbed into the BMW. Next date, he'd see about taking her to the coast on his motorcycle. Tonight, he had other plans and he wanted to make sure she knew where she belonged.
With rush hour over, he cruised along I-5. By the time he crossed the bridge into Washington, he had to turn his headlights on against the night. Yesterday, he'd been surprised to follow Addison into the old section of the Couve. But finding her living in a historical house, updated to the original charm, came with the image he had of Addison.
Polished and classy, running a rather successful small business, she had her life going for her. Her attitude kept him interested. Her reaction to him in bed hooked him. A woman who had the power to go toe to toe with him, yet allowed him to take her higher while submitting to his needs was one to keep around until he tired of her.
What was it Professor always said? 'Until you find a woman strong enough to keep you straight, you'll never settle down. You're too competitive and you live on the edge where others never walk. When business becomes old news and the challenge wears off, you'll need a woman who can support you and keep you content. You haven't found that woman yet, Nathan.'
At the time of their conversation, he'd denied there was such a woman out there. By everyone else's opinion, he had his life planned out and concreted in the ground. He was set for life.
Business was booming. He snapped his fingers and signed contracts appeared on his desk. Yet, Professor Frank had seen through the fame and bull, and knew Nate's personal life was in the shitter.
Having lived off the streets as a kid, he kept his two lives separate. The kind of woman Professor Frank talked about would never take a second look at him after figuring out what he needed in his life and where he came from. They'd look at his bank account and zero in on him, and he wouldn't settle for a woman who saw his price tag before the man.
Besides, that type of woman he couldn't protect against himself. Addison—he inhaled deeply—he had a feeling she could handle the darkness inside of him.
For the first time in thirty-five years, he finally found a woman who made him work for her attention. After finding out she employed women on the street, he hoped to hell she'd have the strength to give him what he needed. Her vulnerable side mattered more than her firm stance, but she'd need it all if she was going to survive what he hoped would be a relationship between them.
He pulled in front of Addison's house. All he
r lights were on throughout the place. He hesitated, pushing down the adrenaline of seeing her again. At least she wasn't going to hide from him and pretend she wasn't home.
With flowers in hand, he walked up the cobblestone pathway to the front door. He pushed the buzzer and rocked back on his heels. His chest tightened and he realized he hadn't felt this excited in a long time. Not even beating Pierce out of the Montgomery contact filled him with the kind of rush he seemed to thrive on.
Several minutes passed, and he rang the bell again. Impatient, he set the flowers on the chair on the porch and removed his cell phone out of his pocket. Stuart Kendall forwarded all the information on Addison this morning, and he'd programed her home number in after thinking he'd call and make sure she was ready for tonight. Then he thought better of giving her a way out, and never called.
He could hear her phone ring from outside the door. Come on, Addy. Pick up.
The call clicked on. "I'm unable to answer your call right now. Please—"
He disconnected, and stepped over to pound on the door. "Addy. Open the door."
When she didn't come, he paced the length of the porch. Once. Twice.
Disgusted at finding himself waiting when Addison was obviously not going to come to the door, he walked away, leaving the flowers behind. Angered over getting his hopes up, he tore away from the curb and drove away. His foot grew heavy as he watched the speedometer climb. He squeezed and twisted his grip on the steering wheel. No one turned him down.
He paid people to run his company. Every aspect of his life could be bought and paid for. His personal life, he handled alone.
He punched his fist on the wheel, and took the exit onto Marine Drive. In no mood to go home, he went back to where he was comfortable. He knew the dirty streets better than he knew the business district of downtown.
In his old neighborhood, he drove straight to Billy's. From the outside of the rundown building, all appeared dark and deserted, but he knew inside the lights were on and there was someone always willing to take a few rounds in the ring.