If She Dares (Contemporary Romance)

by Tanya Michaels

  She was scowling when she opened the door, but it was hard to cling to her outrage at the sight of those familiar dark eyes. Especially when they were brimming with emotion. She swallowed hard. “What are you doing here? How’d you even find out where my parents live?”

  The corner of his lips twitched. “I work with the police department, remember?”

  “Mags!” The little dog had run out the door. Luckily, she didn’t go far. She was merrily jumping against Jack, putting her paws on his shins. Riley was squelching the urge to similarly throw herself at him.

  “Can I come in?” he asked, squatting down to scratch the dog behind her ears.

  “No.” Not with five potential eavesdroppers. She scooped Mags up, deposited the dog inside and shut the front door. “We can talk out here.”

  “Okay.” He took a deep breath.

  And said nothing.

  If she wasn’t so exasperated by his unexplained presence—if just looking at him didn’t make her want to cry—it might have been funny. “Jack!”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not good at this. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along. I’m not good with feelings.” He grimaced just saying the word.

  Nonetheless, she was encouraged. “You have feelings for me?”

  “Major ones. Scary ones.” He reached out, taking both her hands in his. “The thing is, Riley, you’re the most special woman I’ve ever met. And you deserve a man who makes you feel special, who never gives you a single reason to doubt that he loves you.”

  Her breath caught. “Are you saying you love me?”

  “Yes. But I’m terrible at this.” He ducked his gaze, but not before she glimpsed the self-reproach in his eyes. Before she had a chance to respond, he lifted his chin and blurted in a single breath, “RileyIloveyou.”

  Happiness flooded her. Her eyes stung, and for the first time in weeks, it wasn’t because she was miserable.

  She beamed at him. “That was an impressive first step.” Maybe his rip-the-bandage-off approach wasn’t textbook romantic, but he’d driven over here to tell her he loved her. Also? The sudden flare of heat in his gaze was more than enough to make up for a moment of nerves.

  “Saying I love you should be accompanied by a kiss, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He threaded his hands through her hair and claimed her lips in a steamy kiss her parents’ neighbors were going to be gossiping about for days.

  Riley’s fingers curled in his shirt. “You are so not terrible at this,” she said shakily.

  “I might be,” he warned. “But I’m highly motivated to get better. I never knew I wanted...love before, but you changed my mind. You changed my heart.”

  Emotion welled inside her, a sweet, piercing tenderness so intense it was almost an ache. “I love you, Jack.”

  “I love you, too.” The second time was easier. He didn’t even clench his jaw. He grinned, looking pleased with himself. “So, what now?”

  “The bad news is, you have to come inside and meet my parents. My family will never forgive me if I jump in your truck and flee Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “And the good news?” he prompted.

  “Later, I get you alone.” Delicious anticipation fizzed through her. She couldn’t wait to tell Jack she loved him while he was inside her.

  “Our getting back together deserves some kind of special celebration, don’t you think?”

  She peeked up at him through her lashes. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I don’t know. I’m new at this.” He gave her a wolfish grin. “But I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from NAKED THRILL by Jill Monroe.

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  Naked Thrill

  Jill Monroe

  1

  HAYDEN STRETCHED LAZILY beneath the softness of the silk sheet. Ahhhh, heaven. Nothing like sleeping in late, allowing the chirping of the birds and the warmth of the sun on her cheek to wake her. She’d never been so warm.

  Wait a minute. She didn’t have silk sheets. And the kind of warmth next to her could only be provided by—oh, no.

  Hayden’s eyes popped open. Well, as much as her worn-out body would allow her eyes to pop after doing who knows what the night before. Every muscle ached and her lips were dry from—uh-huh, probably from too much lip-lock. Her fingers bunched into the sheet at her chest.

  Please don’t be naked. Please don’t be naked.

  She raised the sheet.

  One hundred percent, bikini-line-glowing naked. Hayden lifted the sheet higher, dreading, hating that she must force her glance to the warmth beside her to confirm what she already knew.

  Yep. A man. Just as naked. And he was exactly her type. Broad shoulders, nice sprinkling of hair across a muscular chest all leading to a flat stomach and—

  Stop right there. How did that gambler’s remorse saying go? What happened last night would stay last night.

  Only, what had happened last night? Hayden rolled to her side, drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. She massaged tiny circles on her temples, easing away the tension and inviting her memories of last night to take its place.

  Still nothing.

  What was wrong with her? She didn’t feel hungover. Had she been drugged? No, she didn’t have that fuzzy, surreal grogginess she’d read about in those PSA pamphlets in college. But clearly something had been done to her; she couldn’t remember the night before. Picking up a stranger, getting naked and apparently dancing the horizontal mambo with a guy were usually things she remembered.

  She was a commitment girl, in it for the long term when it came to men. Bang and bail wasn’t her style.

  Hayden glanced over at the man beside her. Her huffing and rustling around in the bed hadn’t disturbed him. Maybe whatever had affected her was affecting him, too? Or did he just sleep like the dead on a regular basis?

  Don’t wait around to find out.

  Yes, grabbing her clothes and sneaking out seemed about as obvious as a blinking neon sign. Clearly the only logical response. Okay, no it wasn’t. Calmly waking him up and asking him his name and what the hell had happened last night was the only logical response. Hayden just didn’t want to do that, and logic had nothing to do with it.

  Instead, she flung away the covers, gasping when her own nakedness confronted her again. At least it roused some sense into her.

  No, she couldn’t sneak out. As tempting as avoidance was, she wouldn’t take the coward’s path. She needed answers, and the naked man beside her was the only one who could give them to her. Hayden gently tugged the sheet up and secured it around her breasts. She rolled out of bed and gazed down at his face, hoping something would finally click.

  If she’d thought his body was droolworthy, his face almost put those washboard abs to shame. Relaxed in sleep and lightly stubbled, the strong curve of his chin, broken by a slight cleft, tempted Hayden to trace her fingers along it. Her gaze lingered on his sensual, full, bottom lip. How many times had she tugged that sexy lower lip of his into her mouth last night? Sucked it?

  Tingles shot through her sto
mach and her nipples hardened against the softness of the sheet. It must have been some night if the man could make her go all tingly when she couldn’t remember what he’d achieved with those lips of his.

  A shaft of heat shimmied down her back to pool between her legs, but she clamped her knees together. Now was the time for answers. Not imagining the hot kisses and slow caresses this man must have delivered last night.

  But still, she could steal a moment to gaze down at him. After all, once learning the truth of the night before, she never planned on laying eyes on Mr. I’m Still Sexy After A Night of Wickedness. It was just too weird. One and done wasn’t her style.

  And yet, last night must have been the toe-curling, forget-all-reason kind of sex, because her skin ached in awareness of him. Desire for more? Obviously her body remembered every caress and kiss and was shouting, hell yeah—more. He was the sexy kind of wrong that women lied to themselves to make right. Hayden’s heart raced as she neared him and she breathed in his scent. Clean apple, mixed with man and leather and dark, sweet chocolate.

  Chocolate? Was she actually comparing him to chocolate? Good Lord, the man was addictive. Hayden wanted to breathe him in and taste him all at the same time.

  What did I do to this man’s body last night?

  More like, what hadn’t she done? Truth be told, she’d never woken up beside such a delicious man. A thin scar ran across his temple and disappeared into his eyebrow. He possessed a rugged kind of sexiness. Not boyishly handsome, more like I can make you forget your own name. He had the kind of dark wavy hair that women loved to drag their fingers through, but which he probably fought to control. She bet his eyes were as dark and beautiful, like a caffe mocha first thing on a cold, rainy morning.

  Coffee and chocolate? Clearly she was food deprived. And sleep deprived. And extra hungry from the workout of last night, perhaps?

  She noticed the lines fanning from his eyes and bracketing his mouth—he smiled a lot. Hayden liked that about him. Which was a relief. She needed to find good things in this man she barely knew but had taken to her bed.

  Correction. A bed. On top of not recognizing the man, she had no idea where she was. She scanned the room frantically.

  She was in a one-room cabin with logs for walls and a wall of windows overlooking a beautiful pond with two ducks playfully swimming and splashing in the water. Completely unfamiliar. What was going on? The ducks wouldn’t be giving off any clues, so the only way she’d find out anything was to wake Mr. Hot beside her.

  Hayden poked the man in the shoulder. Nothing.

  She poked him again, adding a shake and a “Hey!”

  His lids slowly opened and locked with hers. Dark brown and just as sexy as she’d suspected. A slow smile spread across his face, and her breath hitched. Then his eyes drifted shut, and that was it. He’d fallen back asleep.

  Well, if she wanted him to wake up and stay awake, she’d have to go primal.

  * * *

  TONY’S LIDS OPENED with the force of a kick. Someone was smacking him on the bicep. Hard. In a flash his fingers encircled his attacker’s arm, and with a quick yank, he’d subdued and pinned his assailant to the...bed?

  He blinked a few times only to see that long brown hair covered the intruder’s face, and his fingers were digging into supple, feminine flesh.

  “Dammit, woman, I could have hurt you. You can’t wake a man up like he’s under attack.”

  He loosened his grip around her wrists, but didn’t bother to roll off her body. He was enjoying being exactly where he was. With a soft woman beneath him. Her tight nipples caressing his chest. Her full hips gently cradling the hardness of his cock.

  Now this is how to wake up.

  She wrested her hands from his light grasp and pushed the hair from her face. “Get. Off. Me.”

  His eyes met an angry green gaze. A completely unfamiliar green gaze. Holy sh— He backed off her in one fluid motion. Or it was supposed to be smooth. It was more like a jerky, lurching kind of stagger. What the hell had he done last night?

  Despite the sluggishness infusing his muscles, Tony didn’t feel hungover. No headache. No dry mouth. No dizziness. A rush of sweet relief made his shoulders sag.

  He hadn’t had a drink in over two years. A vow he planned to keep forever.

  Besides, if he had been drinking, he’d be too hungover to now be enjoying the sight of the woman’s trim body. An amazing body he’d inadvertently revealed when he’d taken the sheet with him as he’d rolled off her. The roundness of her breasts would fit his hands perfectly. Her rosy nipples hardened before his eyes. And he imagined them hardening further in his mouth. He took in the slight tan lines at her hips and breasts, a treat he was sure few got to see, even though he had absolutely no idea who she was or how she came to be with him.

  She gasped at the sudden cold draft of air, her hands flailing around for some protection from his eyes. He gave her a break and turned his back, although with such a stunning woman, he would have already looked his fill last night. Touched his fill. Tasted everywhere.

  “Give me the sheet,” she ordered. “I don’t want you to see me naked.”

  “What?” he asked with a false appalled tone. “If I gave you the sheet then you could see my naked ass.”

  She sighed heavily behind him and he smiled. He couldn’t wait to look, touch and taste her—again. His body was ready for round two. Or was it round three? Four?

  “Could you just be a gentleman and hand me the sheet.”

  The strange woman sounded so agitated, Tony instantly felt bad for teasing her. Not that he wasn’t rattled by the situation, but he was more relieved that he hadn’t fallen off the wagon. “Okay, but you aren’t going to like it.”

  “I’ll live,” she assured him.

  He tossed her the sheet, keeping his eyes averted. He silently counted to ten. Then counted to twenty. He wanted to make sure he gave her plenty of time.

  “Uh, you can look now.”

  When he finally faced her, she sat cross-legged on the largest bed he’d ever seen. The monstrous thing was situated on a platform with filmy white fabric draped across the top of the bed’s four posts. Rose petals lay scattered and crushed on the floor and trapped in the bedding. Discarded towels led to another platform complete with a heart-shaped hot tub. Alarm clenched his gut.

  “Are we in the honeymoon suite?” he asked.

  “Don’t you remember?” she asked.

  He slumped on the edge of the mattress. “I don’t remember anything. You?”

  She shook her head. Then a line formed between her brows. “But you smiled at me this morning. Like you were—” she swallowed “—pleased.”

  “How’s a man supposed to look when he wakes up to a beautiful naked woman plastered against him? Repulsed?”

  “I guess not.” She hugged the silky sheet to her chest like a life jacket, the ends wrapped around her sweet body. Her full lips were set in a line. Yeah, there’d be no repeat glimpses of the soft curves that had been pressed against him so sweetly only moments before.

  Even though she was fully hidden, she glanced everywhere but at his face. He liked that she was shy in the morning. Kind of cute. Then his beautiful stranger lowered her gaze and gasped, quickly averting her eyes.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  Yep, she’d spotted his hard cock. “I did warn you that you weren’t going to like it if I gave you the sheet.”

  “Can you please just find your pants?” She peered left then right. “Shouldn’t there be a blanket or a comforter around this place? I can’t have a conversation with you both looking at me.”

  Obviously the woman wasn’t used to one-night stands. Neither was he, for that matter, but he seemed to be handling it a lot better than she was. “It’s not my fault that I woke up next to a gorgeous and naked woman.�
�

  “Here.” She tossed him a pillow. Very hard. Aimed straight for his crotch.

  He caught it at his waist. “Careful.”

  She lifted a brow. “Really? It’s a pillow.”

  “I wasn’t expecting a Spartan-warrior throw.”

  “Well, Spartans have no place for weakness,” she told him, her voice just a notch above a grumble.

  He laughed. “Now I know why I picked you up last night. It’s a special kind of woman who can quote ancient lore. Okay, now that we’re both fully covered, I’m Anthony Garcia, by the way. Documentary filmmaker from California.”

  “Hayden.”

  “Hayden, what?”

  She shook her head. “No last name until I know more about you.”

  “Fair enough.” He backed up a step, but wariness still flickered in the dark green depths of her eyes. Doubt about him. That he wasn’t one of the good guys. Tony flinched.

  The cords of his neck tightened. How many times had he been on the receiving end of this exact look? Dozens. Hell, probably hundreds. From teachers. Probably every authority figure he’d come into contact with over the course of his life. Even his own mother. None of them had thought he’d make something of himself. And if Hayden had met him six years ago, she’d be right to flash him that cautious glance.

  But he wasn’t that Anthony Garcia anymore. And he wanted to prove that to her. “Everyone calls me Tony.”

  Hayden. He liked knowing her name. And when he got her last name—and he would—he’d show her she had nothing to fear from him.

  “And Tony?”

  Just the sound of his name on her lips made him need a bigger pillow. Since when had a woman saying “Tony” got him hard? Of course, he’d been working like a dog lately wrapping up the filming of his latest documentary on the cowhands of the Texas plains while researching his next project. There’d been no time for soft curves and sweet smiles.