Cooper's Charm

by Lori Foster

Was it the insect, as she’d claimed, that had her overreacting?

  Or was she that offended by his comment about the kid?

  He wanted to know. Suddenly, in fact, he needed to know.

  She was right that he didn’t want to socialize with her. Not in a group. But privately? Maybe after a powerful orgasm made her more docile, he’d find out everything he could.

  Assuming the woman was ever docile.

  Baxter grinned as he headed back to his disgruntled guests, his thoughts on how fun it would be to tame Ridley Rose’s prickly temper.

  Damn, but she was proving to be the best sort of challenge.

  * * *

  Polished from head to toe, hair conditioned and soft, body sleek in scented lotion, makeup perfectly applied, Ridley tugged on a smooth camisole top, no bra, with thin harem pants over pretty thong panties. Barefoot, she walked to the blinds in the bedroom to peek out. It was fifteen minutes early, but Baxter was just walking up. He wore a snowy-white T-shirt that contrasted with his tanned skin, with his usual board shorts and sneakers. His fair hair looked as if it had dried in the humid air. Reflective sunglasses protected his eyes from the glare of the hot, summer day.

  The sun wouldn’t completely set until close to ten o’clock. Too bad she couldn’t open the blinds and see Baxter’s naked body in the natural light.

  She planned to put him through his paces. Just thinking it made her heart trip in excitement. She would make him insane with lust, make him beg for release. She’d be in control from start to finish.

  He would know that he’d met his match—and then she would decide the course of their relationship. Never again would she let any man hurt her.

  His brisk knock brought her to the door. She strolled—leisurely—to the living room to answer. Even after she reached for the knob, she hesitated, anticipation ripening to an acute ache. After a deep breath and quick lick across her lips to wet them, she turned the handle and pushed the door wide, greeting him with a smile as the steps came down.

  She’d already rehearsed what she’d say, how she’d play him along, make him wait until she was ready—

  He came up the steps in one big leap and before she could make a sound, he had an arm around her waist, her body hauled close to his.

  “God, the day was excruciatingly long.” Then his mouth was on hers and Ridley forgot her plan.

  She was vaguely aware of him shoving the door shut without breaking the kiss—vaguely, because most of her concentration was on his wicked tongue, exploring over her teeth, her lips, before plunging deep. When she tried to kiss him back, he sucked her tongue and lightly bit her lips until she couldn’t breathe, could only hang on to him.

  “So soft,” he murmured.

  She wasn’t sure if he meant her hair, where he’d tunneled in his fingers, or her ass, which he currently squeezed, drawing her closer and closer to him, ensuring she felt the solid ridge of his erection.

  Control. Right, she was supposed to be calling the shots.

  With that in mind, Ridley slid a hand down his chest, over his flat abs to his straining cock in the loose shorts.

  Mmm, nice. She liked the way he jerked, how he freed his mouth to hiss in a breath.

  Yes, she could do this. She...immediately found herself backed up to the only available empty wall space in the RV. At first he ground himself into her hand, then he captured both her wrists and pressed her hands to the wall at either side of her head while he opened his mouth on her neck, directly over her fluttering pulse.

  Her toes curled. Her stomach quivered. Mmmm, that felt so delicious.

  Without her quite realizing it, he transferred both her wrists into one of his hands, so he could move his long fingers over her left breast.

  “No bra,” he whispered in approval. “Damn, you are stacked.”

  Yes, “the girls” had always been one of her best physical features. No surprise that Baxter would focus there.

  Then he lightly touched his mouth to hers again. “I love this sassy, sarcastic mouth, too. Your lips are so soft.”

  The lips he teased parted in surprise.

  “Mmm.” His tongue traced just inside. “Do you know how hot you are when you’re giving me hell?”

  That had to be a joke...right? Hard for her to think clearly when he went back to kissing her while still cuddling her breast, occasionally scraping the tips of his fingers over her thrusting nipple.

  Somehow—because he was diabolical—he also got his muscled thigh between her legs, pressing against her most heated spot. She inhaled sharply and he sealed his mouth to hers, deepening the kiss. He released her wrists, but she was so lost to sensation her hands merely slid down to his hard shoulders where she grasped him, needing some stationary support.

  He closed his fingers on her already sensitized nipple, worrying it relentlessly while his other hand drew her along his thigh in small, rhythmic movements that rocked her sex against him in a torturous way.

  Oh, God, if he didn’t stop, she’d be coming in minutes.

  And of course, he didn’t stop. No, he amplified his efforts as if he knew she was close.

  He left her mouth, but only to put his own to her throat, his teeth grazing her skin. He bent lower, and suddenly his lips were on her opposite nipple, a shock of sensation as he dampened the material of her top with his tongue.

  She sank her hands into his silky hair, too breathless to protest. Too close to care that she’d completely lost the lead.

  “Baxter,” she whispered.

  “Hush.”

  Ohhh, later she’d make him pay for that. But now, now she just needed his mouth on her naked skin. She released him to hook her fingers in the front of her top, then tugged it down, stretching the expensive material without care. “Here,” she said, offering herself to him.

  She felt his smile against the upper curve of her breast. If he teased, if he laughed, she’d—

  His mouth latched on to her, sucking softly, then, before she could catch her breath, not so softly.

  “Yes.” She dropped her head back against the wall, her eyes so heavy she could barely keep them open. His fair hair brushed her skin, his mouth pulled, his hand continued rocking her...

  She came in a rush, hard and fierce, the pleasure crashing through her in persistent waves that left her crying out, her whole body shuddering. Always in sex, she tried to be aware of how she looked, tried not to give in to “orgasm face.” Now, with Baxter, she couldn’t think, much less care about her appearance.

  As the climax receded, she would have slid down the wall except for Baxter’s embrace.

  His husky voice whispered, “Nice,” in her ear right before he tipped her over his shoulder and carried her down the narrow hallway without bumping her head.

  He dumped her on the bed.

  Not sexy. But he was stripping off his shirt—very, very sexy—and shucking his shorts, so she didn’t complain.

  Naked, he rolled on a condom, his fingers hurried but sure over his cock. Ridley licked her lips.

  Could a man be more delicious? His body was lean, toned, cut in key places...like those mouthwatering muscles that led down to his erection. Flexing biceps, carved shoulders, long defined thighs. He was fit in a natural, oh-so appealing way and now, after the draining O she’d just had, she could spend an hour just visually exploring him.

  When he finally looked at her, his eyes were like green fire burning over her body.

  She smiled, enjoyed his obvious lust.

  Jaw tight, color high on his cheekbones, he shoved her camisole above her breasts. He breathed heavily, muttering, “Jesus.” Both hands cupped her breasts, kneading softly, but not for long. In a rush, he caught her harem pants and stripped them off her, along with the thong, in one long drag. Slower now, he coasted his big hands down her thighs, pressing them apart as he did so.

 
“Fucking gorgeous all over.”

  His voice was so low, so gravelly, she barely heard him.

  His gaze lifted to lock on hers. “A hundred things.”

  “What?”

  “A hundred things I want to do, but I need you now.”

  Ridley meant to welcome him with open arms, but he didn’t give her a chance. He pulled her hips to the edge of the bed, hooked his elbows under her legs, spreading her wide, and then he was at her opening, nudging, moving in her wetness, finding just the right place before sliding deep in one long, sure thrust.

  Her body arched up to meet him, every nerve ending suddenly alive again, wanting, needing.

  “Look at me, Ridley.”

  She got her eyes open for the odd request, even managed a polite, “Yes?”

  “Keep looking at me.” He withdrew a little, only to drive in again, hard enough to scoot her on the mattress.

  Oh, but that was too intimate, forcing her to feel what he felt—letting him know what she felt. No other man had asked it of her, so why should he?

  She turned her head to the side...and he stopped, staying deep inside her, but utterly still.

  She could feel him throbbing as her body squeezed around him, trying to encourage him, yet he didn’t move.

  Softly, he commanded, “Look at me.”

  Not being a woman who took orders lightly, she resisted.

  He pressed over her, bending her legs back farther so that her knees would have pressed her breasts...if his hands weren’t over them, holding them so that he could brush her nipples with his thumbs.

  “Ridley,” he sang insistently, and he tugged, sending sensation straight from her nipples to where she held him, hard and full, inside her body.

  Ah, God... She opened her eyes on his face.

  Instead of gloating, he leaned forward more—which sent him impossibly deeper—and put a butterfly kiss to her mouth.

  After that, she could barely think enough to breathe, definitely not enough to defy him.

  He slid in and out, each stroke a little harder, a little faster, until they were straining together. Gazes still locked.

  It was the most personal, private, wonderfully invasive thing she’d ever experienced, heightening every sensation, both physical and emotional.

  She gasped, “Baxter.”

  “Come for me.” He held her nipples in his fingers, his thrusts causing a rhythmic tug there that matched the hot glide and retreat of his cock inside her swollen sex. “Come now, Ridley,” he urged, his face darkening, his jaw flexing.

  As if he could command it so, she did, almost screaming with the power of it, her fingers digging deep into his chest, her thighs locked tight over his shoulders.

  Watching him made it more exciting, his raw, real expressions as release coursed through him.

  As they both gradually stilled, he clumsily freed her legs and lowered his body to hers, his face beside hers, his breath fast and hot.

  She luxuriated in the aftermath, her body still buzzing pleasantly, every emotion spent so that she seemed to float even with his weight pressing down on her. Minutes passed, maybe thirty or more, in that pleasant haze.

  Ridley sighed in contentment. It was amazing, wonderful, the best sex—something more than sex—she’d ever experienced. She could so easily become addicted...

  Wait, what?

  Her eyes popped open wide with the realization of what had happened.

  Frantically, she shoved on Baxter’s shoulders. “Move!”

  Unconcerned with her sudden mood shift, he grumbled a complaint, then rolled clumsily to the side of her.

  She was damn near panicking—and Baxter looked ready to sleep.

  13

  When Ridley fussed beside him, her movements agitated, he let out an aggrieved sigh. Should have known the peace wouldn’t last.

  For some reason, he almost smiled.

  Obviously annoyed, Ridley sat up with enough angry movement to shake the whole bed. He could feel her glaring at him, but he didn’t open his eyes.

  Not yet.

  She smacked his shoulder. “Don’t you dare fall asleep.”

  Here we go. Baxter looked at her. “Problem?” he asked with admirable calm—a calm he knew would only fire her up more.

  With wild hair around her face, her naked body rosy, she snapped, “That didn’t go at all how I planned it.”

  “No?” Baxter crossed his arms behind his head and said reasonably, “I came. You came.” He lifted a brow, eyeing her naked boobs. Damn, she has a kickin’ body. Despite that, his attention was drawn back to her eyes. “You even screamed a little—and RVs aren’t soundproof, FYI.”

  Her jaw dropped and fresh color stained her cheekbones. “Oh, my God.”

  Since he didn’t want her shy about letting loose in the future—and he had no real plans of taking her to his house—he said quickly, “We both enjoyed ourselves. So where’s the problem?”

  It took her a second to gather her thoughts, then her beautiful blues fried him. “It was too fast.”

  He could have laughed. Fast, yes. But he knew that wasn’t the lady’s problem. No, Ridley had wanted to call the shots and instead he’d made a point of taking over.

  At least, that was what he told himself, that every move, every word, had been deliberate.

  He wasn’t sure that was true. Once she’d opened that door, he’d lost sight of the long game in favor of just having her. Of finally getting her naked, touching her, tasting her.

  He’d moved on instinct, on need, without a plan in mind.

  Never would he admit that to her, though. “Give me five minutes and we can start over. I can maybe make it last a little longer the second time. Maybe. Might have to happen with the third—”

  Her eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Another challenge? This time he did smile, openly, almost a taunt. “You don’t have to make it more interesting for me, you know.”

  Her eyes flared wide. “Go home.”

  Deliberately, he yawned. “In a minute.” And he closed his eyes...but kept his senses alert. Ridley was the type of woman who did unexpected things. She could attack at any moment and he had to be ready. Hell, he could feel the whole bed trembling with her ire.

  Suddenly, she cuddled into his side. “I’ll give you an hour. Prepare yourself.”

  Smug in the outcome, Baxter slipped an arm around her, kissed her forehead and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  * * *

  Today was not a good day to be running late. After opening the padlock on the maintenance building doors and stepping inside, Phoenix checked the time on her phone. It was already 7:15 and she still had a lot of things to put away before she could grab a quick shower and join Cooper.

  Maybe, she thought with a smile, she’d just shower at his house.

  Would that be too invasive? Would it signify growth in their relationship that Cooper didn’t want? Sometimes he was so hard to read.

  Regardless, now that she was more accepting of her feelings, she was anxious to see him again.

  She stored the tools she’d carried in her hands, then turned to go for the cart that she’d left outside.

  Suddenly the metal door slammed shut. With only a couple of small windows, heavy shadows immediately filled the interior.

  Thoughts scrambling, she started forward. There’d been no wind, no reason for the door to—

  A loud bang sent alarm screaming through her. Then another and another, until the rapid-fire pops registered in her brain.

  Gunfire.

  Dear God. An acrid scent filled her nostrils as she dove behind a tall toolbox, shaking uncontrollably, her heart slamming in her chest. Fear made her clumsy, and as the sound escalated, she covered her head, cowering in a tight ball, a scream strangling in her throat.

 
; One thought cut through the terror.

  She might die here...when she’d just started to live again.

  Her poor sister—Ridley would be devastated.

  And Cooper. Dear God, Cooper. How would he deal with this after losing his beloved wife?

  “Phoenix!”

  When she first heard the shout, Phoenix didn’t understand. She was so mired in her fear that it took her a second to realize that the loud pops had dwindled, replaced by a new sound that closely resembled...fists on the door?

  “Damn it, Phoenix! Answer me.”

  Daron? She thought it, then she yelled in relief, “Daron!”

  The doors slammed open and he charged in as if he’d thrown himself against them. As he searched the gravel-floored building, their eyes met, then he looked around again and with a curse, headed to the right of the doors, growling, “Firecrackers.”

  The fierce beating of her heart began to slow. Cautiously raising her head, she became aware of the gravel cutting into her knees and shins, of a small fire flickering on a bale of hay left over from the fall. And the smoke, so much smoke hanging in the air.

  Now that she saw it, her eyes burned and she coughed.

  Daron stomped, rearranged and smothered the flames before they could really take hold. Fresh air blew into the building.

  She wasn’t alone. Wasn’t being attacked.

  Her legs were too rubbery to stand, so Phoenix dropped back onto her butt—reminded again of that damn sharp gravel. She put her head on her knees and concentrated on drinking in big gulps of air.

  Why did it keep happening?

  She hadn’t heard him approach, but then Daron’s hands were on her shoulders and he pulled her close, offering comfort. “You’re okay, babe. Some fucking asshole threw in some firecrackers and then locked the doors.”

  She’d been locked in?

  “How...” She swallowed to remove the squeak from her voice. “How did you know?”

  “I was heading up here to look for a fuse for a camper when I heard the noise. Fireworks aren’t allowed in the park.”

  She suddenly realized his chest was bare, her hands fisted against him. He was incredibly warm, solid and safe.