Ben slid an arm behind her, ignoring her startled squeak, and kissed her. On the mouth. Warm lips, no tongue. Demanding nothing. Giving more than taking.
A protest died in her throat. How could a chaste kiss feel this good? He’d found a nice, comfortable pressure that seemed to ease the day’s tension. Even if she’d known ahead of time he was going to kiss her, she wouldn’t have expected this.
He cupped her face, his rough palm gently cradling her cheek as he changed the slant of his mouth. This time, he wasn’t quite so gentle. There was a bit more pressure now, and it was good. The minute the tip of his tongue touched the seam of her lips, she was a goner, opening to him on a sigh. Pressing closer, she tried to ignore the inconvenient console as she breathed in the scent of him.
It seemed as if the Porsche had suddenly shrunk. Frustrated, she shifted, trying to find a more satisfactory position. But it was no use.
With great reluctance, she broke the kiss. “Let’s go, okay?”
Ben drew back, his darkened gaze lingering on her lips. “You still owe me dinner,” he said and met her eyes.
“I know.” She resettled in the leather seat, aware that he might be wondering whether she planned to ditch him.
“Something else you should know...” He slipped the car into gear. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Grace laughed softly. “I have to shower again.”
Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “What’s your point?”
* * *
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, hair slightly damp, Grace knocked on Ben’s door. It was 7:00 p.m. on the nose, which had given her a chance to shower and to make up her mind about the night to come, and him time to gather his secret meal that she suspected was a secret only because he had no idea what to buy. She assumed it was a couple of boxed sandwiches from the Food Mart.
The second he opened the door, she smelled food. Roast chicken, if she wasn’t mistaken. From the diner. It was one of her favorites.
He checked his watch. “Cutting it close.”
She smiled sweetly. “Bite me,” she said and crossed the threshold.
With a laugh, he caught her around the waist and closed the door with his foot.
“Stop it, you nutcase.” Trying to pry his arm away was useless. “Assault on a deputy is a serious charge.”
“You gonna report me?”
“Hell, no. I’ll arrest you myself.”
“Yeah?” He turned her to face him and gave her a wicked grin. “Get out the cuffs.”
“How original. Hey...knock it off,” she said, squirming and laughing at the ticklish swipe of his tongue on the side of her neck.
“Just following orders, Deputy.” He bit into the sensitive flesh below her ear, his arm tightening and bringing her flush against his body.
She went limp, letting him support her weight with his arm. How long had it been since she’d been held? Like this. By a man who wasn’t her father awkwardly offering a shoulder to cry on. “Dinner smells good.”
Ben chuckled, the low sexy rumble from his chest vibrating clear down to her toes. “I’m insulted.”
“I haven’t eaten since early this morning. Does that help?” Her eyes were closed. She only realized it when she had to force her lids up.
He’d lifted his head and was staring at her with a warm, sympathetic gaze. His smile was gentle. So was the hand stroking her hair.
Clearing her throat, she broke away. She didn’t need sympathy. Not for doing her job. Not for any reason. She’d made her own choices. Some of them had been the lesser of two evils. But that didn’t exempt her from owning them.
“Wow.” A picnic was spread across the bed. Roasted chicken, ribs, potato salad, coleslaw, rolls and butter. “Did you wipe out the diner and the Food Mart?”
“I didn’t know what you like.” He grabbed the paper plates on the nightstand, next to the apple pie. “I almost asked Marge what you normally order. But that would’ve started rumors you don’t need.”
Touched by his thoughtfulness, she smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, well, there’ll be enough speculation over what army I’m feeding. I scored real silverware, though.” He held up a handful of knives and forks. “Of course, Marge made me swear a blood oath that I’d return everything.”
“Ah, that’s when she’ll try to wheedle information out of you.”
“I may need to borrow your gun.”
Grace grinned. “I have a feeling you can handle Marge.” Or any other female in his orbit, she thought, admiring his butt as he turned to clear a spot on the bed.
“It’s tight in here. I should’ve asked if you’d rather eat in your room.”
“This is fine.” She noticed that he’d used towels to cover the bedspread before setting the food down. Even the single nightstand and small dresser were protected by paper sacks. The considerate gesture surprised her, though she couldn’t say why. “How long did you live at the Sundance?”
The question clearly startled him. He gave her a funny look, then carried the only chair closer to the bed, the action slow and deliberate, as if the move required all his concentration. “Here, take this.”
“I don’t mind sitting on the bed. Or even the floor.”
“Humor me.”
Well, okay. Obviously he wanted to pretend he hadn’t heard her. Though the question hadn’t been a big deal until he’d sidestepped it so neatly. Still, she let the subject drop. “I’m sorry if this was a hassle, but I really didn’t want to go out,” she said, and took the plate he passed her.
“No hassle at all. It’ll save time.”
She eyed him warily, not sure if that was a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. If he wasn’t setting a trap, she’d be shocked. But she’d go ahead and play. “For?”
“Getting you naked.”
“Huh. I was thinking the other way around.”
“Just say the word, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart,” she muttered and stabbed a chicken leg with her fork.
Ben. Completely naked. All that bronzed skin and hard muscle. Her imagination was barely up to the task.
A slight tremor shook her hand. Her heart beat harder and faster. Why now? It wasn’t as if she’d forgotten for a single second where tonight would lead. Not since he’d followed her up the mountain. She’d known the moment she saw him standing behind her.
Okay, there might’ve been a lapse while she’d written her report. Somehow she’d managed to block thoughts of him. Of them. Of tonight. But then she made up for it while showering the first time. The second time, too, come to think of it.
Scooping up some potato salad, she realized her appetite was gone. She was jittery inside, but in the best way. She considered telling him they didn’t have to waste time eating. Although he had gone to a fair amount of trouble. They could always eat later.
She hesitated, her hand hovering over the rolls. Marge made them herself. Grace was totally addicted to them. She slid a glance at Ben.
He hadn’t even started dishing up but was watching her. “Eat,” he said, as if reading her mind. “You need to refuel, and we have plenty of time.”
Just tonight, from what she’d gleaned. And that was good. Perfect, really. How much trouble could she get into in one night?
12
BEN LEFT THE door of his room ajar while he cleaned up and waited for Grace to store the few leftovers in her minifridge. They’d polished off most of the food. He’d never seen a woman put away as much food as Grace had. Many of the women he knew in Hollywood starved themselves. He smiled, thinking about Grace reminding him she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and then admitting she ate like that most of the time.
Hearing a knock, he turned to see her standing in the doorway, her gaze on the bed. He’d already s
tripped it down to the cream-colored sheets. They weren’t bad for a small country inn.
“You didn’t have to knock. Come in.”
“I didn’t want to startle you,” Grace said, entering the room and closing the door behind her. “Must be hard for you to sleep on a queen-size bed.”
“I’m used to making do. Can’t be choosy when you’re filming on location.”
“Are you away a lot?”
“Pretty much. Lately, I’ve been working in Canada and Mexico. Cheaper for the studios to shoot there.” He hoped he wouldn’t be doing it much longer. Friggin’ Lena. He squashed the thought and watched Grace glance around as though this was her first time in the room. “You nervous?”
“No,” she said with a short laugh. “I’m really not.”
“Good.” He unclipped the cell phone from his belt, tossed it onto the nightstand and pulled her into his arms. “How would you like a rubdown?”
“Huh?”
Ben smiled at her wary, upturned face. “Don’t look so suspicious. You’re tense.” He pressed his thumb gently into a knot in her shoulder.
“Ouch.”
“See?” He brushed a light kiss across her lips, and damn, he was already getting hard. “Let’s get your top off.”
She yanked the shirt from her jeans. “I’ll race you,” she said, kicking her shoes to the side.
Caught off guard, it took him a few seconds to pull the T-shirt over his head. “What does the winner get?”
Grace was already down to a satiny blue bra. The color matched her eyes. Her skin was pale, a few freckles, but not too many. “Um, let’s see...” She unzipped her jeans and slowly shimmied out of them, then bent forward, giving him just enough of a glimpse of her breasts to make him itch.
He caught her mischievous grin, and laughed. The little... She’d purposely distracted him. Fine with him. He liked her tiny panties. He’d like them better when they were on the floor. “Go ahead, finish stripping. You already won.”
“I’ll be sporting and let you catch up.” She let out a muffled shriek when he locked her in his arms. A couple quick flicks and he unhooked her bra. “Hey!”
Damn, it felt good pressed chest-to-chest, but it would be better skin-to-skin. He shifted back, and the bra slid off her breasts. They were the perfect size, not too big, not too small, and they were real. With pretty, dark, pink tips that had already tightened into tempting buds. He rubbed his thumb over the left one and she gasped, her soft warm breath hitting his collarbone.
Just like that, his patience evaporated. He unzipped his fly and shoved the jeans off. The bra went flying toward the bathroom. He went for her panties at the same time she tried to pull down his boxers. She bumped her head on his chin and laughed, while he stayed focus on getting them completely naked.
The desperate need that made him clumsy and impatient shocked him. It wasn’t about the need for sex. That he could find anywhere. He wanted Grace. Except this frenzied pace wasn’t his style. He liked to take his time. Control the tempo, a slow, deliberate seduction that fed the fever.
“Ben?” Her face was flushed. “Let me do this.”
He let her go and watched her crouch to slide down his boxers. Already rock-hard, his cock sprang free. Grace’s eyes widened, shifting his heart rate from third gear to fourth. Warm, moist breath touched his hot flesh. With a harsh exhale, he caught her arms and pulled her upright.
She made a sharp sound, and his gut clenched. He didn’t think he was squeezing too hard, but he released her. And noticed the scrapes and bruises from earlier. A Band-Aid covered the gash close to where his thumb had pressed into her arm.
“I’m sorry,” he said, fisting his hands at his side. “I should’ve been more careful.”
“It’s nothing. You startled me, that’s all.” Her lips curved up. “I’ve had worse nicks shaving my legs.”
“You’re that tough, huh?”
“More than you know.” Her smile turned bittersweet right before she stretched up to kiss him.
Their lips touched, and his hands automatically came up to caress her back, but he lowered them to his sides. He wanted to hold her, feel the softness of her skin, breathe in her heady womanly scent. But he’d do whatever it took to avoid hurting her. Just thinking about the possibility tempered his arousal. Something Grace had discovered for herself, judging by her sudden withdrawal.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, blinking at him.
He shook his head. “Nothing,” he murmured, looking into her uncertain blue eyes and then glancing at her scraped arm.
“Ben.” She sighed, a quiet sound of weariness and resignation. “I know I’m not the kind of woman you’re used to.”
He smiled. “Okay, so I don’t always date the sharpest tool in the box.”
“I’m being serious. Sometimes my job is physical and I get banged up. It goes with the territory. I’m no hothouse flower. I can take a lot.”
“I get it.” And he did. Some of his stunt-women friends were the toughest people he knew. “That doesn’t mean I can stop worrying that I’ll hurt you.”
She gave him a long, considering look. “Get over it,” she said, shoving him so hard that he stumbled back and almost landed across the bed.
Quickly, he regained his balance and scooped her up. Her yelp was one of surprise, not pain, so he had no second thoughts about laying her on the sheets.
He sat at the edge of the bed and grabbed a pillow. “Lift your head.”
“What are you doing?”
Ben waited for her to stop staring at his poor confused cock and do as he asked. A blush spread across her cheeks when she noticed he was watching her, and she let him slip the pillow under her head. “I’m gonna check you over.”
“What?” Her voice broke on a laugh. “We’re playing doctor?”
“Yep.” He briefly kissed her mouth, noting a small scratch near her ear. Nothing to worry about. Brushing back her hair, he inspected her neck.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
He smiled. Very soon her doubts would be forgotten as he touched all the places that weren’t hurt. Using one finger, he traced a winding course down her arm, careful of the scrapes.
Grace shivered. Her “huh” made him look up.
“You’re very good at multitasking.” She smoothed the line between his brows. “Still, thank you for caring.”
He stared at her for a moment, surprised that she could figure him out so quickly. But then he got distracted by her breasts.
Her nipples weren’t as tight as before.
A couple strokes with his tongue took care of that.
She whimpered in protest when he stopped, so he lingered on each breast before trailing his lips between her ribs to her navel. He reached the spot just above the neatly trimmed triangle of hair, and she tensed. Squirmed. Tensed again.
Controlling a smile, he lifted his head. “Turn over.”
“My back is fine. Not a single scrape.”
“Glad to hear it. Turn over.”
She came up on one elbow, her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
He brushed his fingers down the pale skin of her stomach. “Because you’re beautiful, and I want to see every part of you.”
A soft pink bloomed in her cheeks and spread to her ears. She flipped onto her stomach, probably to hide the blush. It didn’t escape his attention that she was watching him from over her shoulder.
Much as he liked those pretty blue eyes, his gaze was drawn to her very nice ass. Stroking the swell of satiny skin with his palm, he asked, “Don’t you trust me?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“Nope.”
Ben smiled. “Good. Never trust anybody from Hollywood.” He took a nip of her right butt cheek. “Especially me.”
/>
* * *
GRACE HAD NO time to think about what he’d just said. She arched her back at the amazing feel of his tongue tracing her spine with long, slow, feather-like strokes that overlapped and kept her off balance. How could she be so sensitive there? How did he even know?
He finally made it to the top of her back, then gently rearranged her hair so he had access to her neck. But instead of the kiss she expected on her nape, his warm breath teased the side of her breast. She nearly levitated at the misdirection. Playing fair, he cupped her other breast with a sure hand, fingers plucking lightly at her puckered nipple.
God, he was good at this whole drawn-out seduction thing. The way he made her moan and whimper gave her just enough rope, pushing her and pushing her, tempting her to beg because she feared he might stop. Making her want what he stubbornly refused to give.
Though really, it wasn’t a surprise. Of course he’d be a master at handling a woman. What she hadn’t expected was the tenderness. She wasn’t even sure what to do with it.
Evidently, she’d have to figure it out another time.
On a low raspy groan, he slid his hand over her butt to the seam of her closed thighs.
They weren’t closed for long. The combination of tongue and fingers was too much. She fisted the bottom sheet in her hands and didn’t even try not to cry out.
Before she could draw her next breath, he put two fingers inside her.
Their moans were simultaneous.
He nipped at her shoulder. “God, you’re so wet. So hot,” he whispered, his voice an octave lower.
Then he started moving his fingers.
Her gasp was louder than she’d expected, but she was thrusting back as he showed her again that he knew what he was doing. The way he circled her clit with his thumb was enough to drive her crazy—slow as could be, forcing her to move, then fast, making her freeze, only to deny her at the edge of coming.
She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to kill him or kiss him. Trembling like this was something new. Something that made her heart beat so wildly she could barely speak. Two heavy breaths later, he helped her turn over before he kissed her. Hard.
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