Fool Me Once

by Katee Robert

  “More like a python.”

  He’s insinuating… Her damn cheeks heated and she put a few seconds into seriously debating just throwing herself from the moving vehicle.

  She slid her sunglasses into place, using the shield to glance at his lap. Python, my ass. He’s probably got a micro peen that’s inversely proportionate to how huge he is everywhere else. She’d seen the term on a show once and looked it up, and…there were some things a woman just couldn’t un-see. It made her perversely happy to picture Quinn with one of those little anteaters.

  Aubry checked the time. She’d been in the truck with him a grand total of three minutes. This didn’t bode well for the next fourteen hours and fifty-seven minutes. What am I going to do?

  In any other situation, she’d just whip out her computer, stick in some headphones, and ignore everyone around her, but that wasn’t an option with her motion sickness. I am a bundle of issues.

  Quinn whistled a few bars of a popular country song. “Besides, that wasn’t a kiss.”

  “Pretty sure I was there. Your lips touching mine equals a kiss.”

  “If that’s your idea of a kiss, you’ve been missing out. Now, why don’t you come over here and cozy on up? We should start practicing for the wedding.”

  Practicing pretending they were dating.

  I can’t take any more of this conversation.

  “Maybe later.” She dug around in her bag and came up with her headphones. She plugged them into her phone and pulled up the audiobook she’d downloaded for just this occasion. She glanced at Quinn, wondering if the book would be enough to block out his overwhelming presence just a few feet away. It was the latest in an erotic thriller series, which shouldn’t have worked as a genre, but the author was phenomenal. Hot sex scenes and scary serial killers should be more than enough to keep her distracted.

  She didn’t like her chances, though.

  Chapter Four

  At first, Quinn was kind of glad when the vicious little redhead popped on her headphones and turned to stare out the window. Despite all his bluster, he wasn’t interested in spending the next fifteen hours trading barbs. But somewhere around hour three, the music on the radio stopped being enough to occupy him and his mind started wandering.

  Wandering right to the woman curled up on the seat next to him.

  He hadn’t been lying about her ass being phenomenal. She must be doing squats while she played that damn game or something, because every time he caught sight of her in jeans, he wanted to take a bite out of those sweet cheeks. Her ass was the kind that he’d lovingly term “grabbable.” The kind of ass that would fit his palms perfectly, that he could use to hoist her higher onto his body until she wrapped those equally sexy legs around his waist and…

  He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Hell, her mouth was pretty sexy, too. Her lips were just as full as the rest of her, and it was all too easy to imagine what they’d look like wrapped around his cock.

  Quinn froze.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  Admiring her ass was one thing. Actively fantasizing about her—especially when she was right there—was something else entirely. It was the kind of thing that’d get him into trouble if he wasn’t careful. One more thought down that road and he’d be hard as a rock, and that would make for an uncomfortable situation.

  What if…

  Knock that shit off. Right now.

  He forced himself to focus on something—anything—other than her. There wasn’t much else to think about. Things at the Rodriguez ranch had been going smoothly through the expansion. They’d brought in forty head of cattle and hired new guys to cover the increased workload. There had been a few hiccups, but nothing he and Adam and Jules’s cousin, Daniel, couldn’t handle.

  The three of them had been best friends when they were growing up, and it’d been good to have them all back together again, now that Adam was in Devil’s Falls permanently, but that didn’t change the bittersweet feeling that came over him sometimes when he thought about the fact they should have been four instead of three. Their other best friend, John, had died thirteen years ago, but that didn’t make his absence any less noticeable. It was like a missing tooth—it didn’t hurt most of the time, but he was almost always aware of the empty space.

  John’s death was the reason he’d told his old man to take a hike and gone into the cattle business. Life was too short. If one of the best people he’d ever known could have it taken from him in a split second, what the hell was he doing, going into an industry that he hated? All the politics and lobbying and manipulating to get ahead, and for what? More money that he didn’t need.

  So he left, hell-bent on doing his own thing.

  Quinn never felt more alive than when he was working himself to exhaustion, with the clear Texas sky over him and the earth beneath his boots. He wouldn’t give that up for all the money in the world.

  He glanced at the clock. Four hours down, which meant they weren’t even halfway. Damn. It was going to be a long-ass trip if Aubry ignored him the entire time. It was his fault for throwing around sexual innuendos, but the look on her face had been priceless.

  I’m paying for it now, aren’t I? Can’t get the damn pictures out of my head.

  “Stop staring at me.”

  He didn’t jump, but it was a near thing. Quinn stretched one arm out over the back of the seat and curled her bright red hair around his finger. “Can’t help myself.”

  “Is that flirting?” She slapped his hand. “I really can’t tell because you’re so clumsy at it. Just like everything else you do.”

  If that wasn’t a gauntlet thrown at his feet, he didn’t know what was. Quinn wasn’t normally this pushy with women—he didn’t have to be—but with her sitting there, looking all smug behind her bright green sunglasses, he wanted to… Fuck, he didn’t know. Shock her a little. “You know, I’ve been thinking—”

  “Good God, don’t strain yourself.”

  “—and I’m thinking that I need a better nickname for you. Sweet cheeks might be accurate, but no one in my family is going to believe I’d call the woman I’m in a relationship with something that…lowbrow.”

  She tilted her sunglasses down to stare at him over the top of them. It made her amber eyes stand out all the more. “How about you call me nothing at all? Because that sounds ideal from where I’m sitting.”

  “Nah. I’ve always been a fan of pet names.”

  “One—I can tell. Two—save your pet names for your actual animals.”

  She’d left that one wide open, but he chose to ignore it. Just this once. He twined her hair around his finger again. “I was thinking bunny.”

  “You can call me bunny if you want to provoke me to actual physical violence.”

  Yeah, it didn’t fit, either. He relaxed back into his seat, starting to enjoy the idea of this. “Cherry.”

  “Hard pass.”

  “Cookie.”

  “No way.”

  He wondered when she’d noticed that he was still stroking her hair. He hadn’t been lying when he said they would have to put on a good show for his family. That meant he had to get her used to him touching her, at least in these innocent ways. Or that was what he told himself as he kept playing with the ends of her hair.

  And touching in the not-innocent ways?

  To distract himself, he said, “Peaches. No, don’t look at me like that. You got to pass on three—that’s your limit. And you smell like peaches.” He leaned a little closer, keeping one eye on the road, and adopted his best Nicholas Cage voice, “I love peaches. I could eat peaches for hours.”

  “Ew, gross.”

  He sat back and laughed. “You have a problem with a man worshiping you that way?”

  “I have a problem with Nicholas Cage comparing my lady bits to a fruit and, frankly, the image of him down there is enough to kill any desire the act would cause.”

  She sounded so horrified that he laughed again. Or he started to. The problem with tea
sing her like this was he was now picturing himself between her thighs. Quinn shifted, trying to get his instant physical reaction under control. His cock wasn’t in a cooperative mood, though, and his brain kept serving up images of Aubry’s back arching, her fingers digging into his forearms, her head thrown back in ecstasy he was giving her.

  Jesus Christ.

  He let go of her hair like it burned him and straightened. He had to get out of this truck, and fast, before he forgot just how bad of an idea hooking up with the woman was. There was a sign up ahead advertising gas in two miles, which might as well have been a signal from God that he was walking a thin line.

  …

  Aubry was almost pathetically grateful when Quinn announced they were stopping for snacks and to top off the fuel tank. She didn’t know what to do with a flirting Quinn, even if he was doing it solely to make her uncomfortable. She kept wondering what it would be like to be kissed by him—really kissed—and if he actually had a micro penis or if he was in proportion and gah.

  She barely waited for him to put the truck in park before throwing open the door and jumping down to the ground. She was so distracted she made it all the way into the gas station before she realized it was a prime place for some The Hills Have Eyes action. There was a thick layer of dust over everything, and she was pretty sure most of the food had seen its expiration date come and go some twenty-odd years ago. She peered at the clerk out of the corner of her eye, but he was just a pimply teenager like the million pimply teenagers manning gas stations across the country. She made a beeline for the bathroom, all the while berating herself for even walking through the door.

  What was Quinn thinking, stopping here? There had to be some place closer to actual civilization where they would be less likely to get killed by a family of cannibal mutants.

  Once she was done, she stared at herself in the smudged mirror. You can do this. Just remember that you don’t like Quinn. The only reason you’re even thinking these kinds of thoughts is because your hormones are out of control. It could be anyone causing it. The only reason it’s him is because he’s here and he’s healthy and he’s got all his teeth. It doesn’t mean anything.

  The pep talk did nothing to help. Less than nothing, because now she was really thinking of what it would be like to go there with him. The universe had created a cruel joke when it formed Aubry. Her sex drive had always been out of control—a direct parallel to how much she hated people. She’d never had a problem keeping the edge off with her variety of sex toys, mostly because the thought of getting naked and sweaty with anyone in Devil’s Falls didn’t appeal to her in the least.

  Or so she would have thought before she’d voluntarily locked herself in a truck cab with Quinn Baldwyn.

  A banging on the door had her jumping halfway out of her skin. “Come on, peaches. We need to get back on the road.”

  She cursed long and hard, flipping off the door for good measure. None of it cleansed her mind, like she’d hoped. It was official—she might not be able to stand the man, but her hormones didn’t hold the same dislike for him. This is so bad.

  Aubry washed her hands again for good measure and used a paper towel to open the door. Quinn stood there, his arms braced on either side of the doorway, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Were you touching yourself and fantasizing about me?”

  She’d never tell him. His ego might inflate enough to fill the tiny room and suffocate her. She nudged the door open farther with her foot. It was impossible not to notice how he filled up the doorway—or the way his position pulled his T-shirt tightly against his chest. The man was cut. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “I don’t have to. I know the truth, no matter how much you try to deny it.” He leaned down and stage-whispered. “You want me. That’s why you hate me so much—you can’t stand the fact that you’d lose your fucking mind the second you were in my arms.”

  Her face went red hot, and she cursed the German heritage that made every emotion flare across her pale skin. “Nope.”

  “Not a missionary girl? I can get down with that.” His voice dropped an octave, making her toes curl. “Maybe you’re down with some oral worshipping, if it’s not done by old Nick Cage.”

  She broke out in goose bumps at the thought of sitting on Quinn’s face. No, no, no. She started to push him out of the way, but her hands got stuck somewhere around his pecs and she just ended up staring at him from an inch away. As much as she wanted to claim otherwise, all he’d have to do was lean down and kiss her, and she’d lose it. Her entire body hummed so hard it was a wonder she wasn’t vibrating. It wouldn’t take much. She wasn’t sure if she was ashamed of that or grateful for it. All he’d have to do was slip a hand into her jeans, one stroke, and she’d be there. She knew the signs well enough to know that.

  But then he took one large step back, a strange look on his face. “You done in there?”

  “What?” She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Uh, yeah.”

  What was wrong with her? Quinn had been aggravating her like this since they met. Yes, it was a little more pointed since they’d gotten into his truck, but the truth was that he hadn’t changed the rules of the game. She was the one in danger of doing that. No wonder he’d stepped back and looked at her like she was crazy. She went from being ready to cut him to putting serious consideration into what a Quinn-spawned orgasm would feel like.

  He doesn’t actually want to go there with me. He’s just being a dick and trying to make me uncomfortable—like he always does.

  She had to remember that. If she threw herself at him in some mistaken conclusion she’d drawn, the humiliation might just kill her. She obviously needed some sexy alone time, because this was ridiculous. She marched down the gas station aisle, decided that a pack of gum probably wouldn’t poison her, and paid for it.

  By the time Quinn reappeared and got back in the driver’s seat, she had control of herself. Mostly. Part of her wanted to apologize for making things weird back in the bathroom, but if she acknowledged it, he’d just make fun of her for thinking he might actually be serious about wanting her. Of course he didn’t want her. Quinn didn’t even like her.

  For the first time, that thought actually bothered her a little.

  Chapter Five

  Quinn climbed back into his truck with one thought driving him—he had to get them to San Diego so he could get the fuck away from Aubry long enough to clear his headspace. It had to be the heat, or the stress of the upcoming wedding, or maybe the faint sheen on her exposed skin that made him think filthy thoughts. Something. He’d known the woman for over a year now, and he’d spent more time that day imagining her naked than the previous three hundred and sixty-five days plus. He was out of control.

  He checked the clock. Five hours and thirty minutes. That was how long it had taken her to get under his skin. It didn’t help that she’d stepped into him and given him that look. The one that said if he just made a move, she’d be a sure thing. In his wildest imagination, he never would have guessed he’d ever get the green light from Aubry Kaiser.

  And he’d been half a breath from backing her into that filthy bathroom and bending her over the sink.

  He started the truck without looking at her, but he couldn’t let the strange silence extend between them. It was too full of things that might be his imagination, and he had to put a stop to that shit right this second. “Look, about back there… When I make these jokes, I’m—”

  “Not serious. Got it.”

  He looked over, but she was staring out the passenger window, her entire body turned away from him, her arms wrapped around herself. As if he’d hurt her. Guilt tried to worm through him, but he smothered it with everything he had. He’d made no promises to Aubry, and he hadn’t been particularly mean since they started this trip. It wasn’t his fault she was looking into shit.

  Except I’m looking into it.

  He ignored that. “Things are—”

  “For fuck’s sake, Quinn, stop. I don’t want
you. My common sense was temporarily high-jacked by my hormones. It won’t happen again.”

  He should be glad to hear that—it was what he wanted when he brought up the uncomfortable conversation to begin with—but the easy way she dismissed the attraction between them was like a splinter, poking and prodding at him. There was chemistry there. Maybe they were too smart to do anything about it, but it existed.

  Quinn turned up the radio. It didn’t help. He could practically feel Aubry sitting there, and the fact she seemed to be engrossed in whatever she was listening to again only made it worse. She’d dismissed him completely and, though it should make him happy that things weren’t going to be any more weird than they already were, it aggravated the fuck out of him knowing she could turn off the attraction as easily as flipping a light switch.

  He wanted his mouth between her legs. He wanted her on top of him. Fuck, he wanted her in every way he could possibly think of. It didn’t make sense.

  “What’re you listening to?”

  “You know, generally when someone has headphones on, it means they don’t want to talk.”

  He knew, which was why he was provoking her—to get them back onto familiar territory. “And here I thought it was because you were anti-social and avoiding human contact in any way possible.”

  She didn’t look over. “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. If only you could take a hint.”

  “Aw, peaches, I can take a whole lot more than that.” Fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Quinn tightened his grip on the steering wheel and gritted his teeth.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Aubry moved one side of her headphones off her ear and appeared to give him her full attention. “Did you just allude to the fact that you like to be the catcher?”

  “What? No.”

  “That’s exactly what you did. ‘I can take a whole lot more than that’ were your exact words.” Her mouth curving up into a downright sweet smile. “I never pegged you for a bottom. Do you frequent truck stops and utilize glory holes, too?”