Make Me Want

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Make Me Want Page 2

by Rebecca Brooks


  “You think you can lie to me and get away with it?” Russ snorted and ran a hand down his mouth. Abbi knew that gesture, the one he used in some half-assed attempt to push the anger back in right before it exploded. He smelled like cigarettes and sweat. Abbi almost felt bad for him. But he’d come back from a four-month construction job in Spokane assuming he had every right to her bed when she’d been nothing but clear when he left that they were over. So there was a limit to her sympathy.

  As soon as he returned, he’d started calling. And calling. Demanding to see her. Claiming she owed it to him to “give him another chance.”

  When she stopped picking up, he drove by her place. Banged on her door so much she’d taken to pretending not to be home. He’d broken the hinges on the gate to her backyard and she’d dropped to the floor, cowering under the bed, as she heard the wood splinter.

  Her friends told her to call the police, but she was adamant. No cops. Her sophomore year of high school, Owen Cash had looked right in Abbi’s eyes before he closed his book, put down his chalk, and let those grim-faced officers lead him away. She hadn’t been the one to betray him. She’d been so, so good about keeping them secret, just like Mr. Cash said.

  But it still felt like her fault. Everything felt like her fault, no matter how many times she lied and said she knew that it wasn’t.

  Tyler stood slowly until he was chest to chest with Russ. Abbi winced, bracing herself for the eruption of testosterone that was coming. On second thought, maybe this charade was more trouble than it was worth.

  But Tyler didn’t explode. It was as though everything inside him circled too deeply to ripple the surface. “Is there a problem?” he asked with total control.

  Russ sucked the air between his teeth, but Tyler wasn’t giving him the confrontation he craved. In the end, he muttered something about losers and walked away.

  Normally Abbi hated playing the damsel, the one who needed to be rescued from the big bad man. It meant she’d wind up indebted to Tyler, and she’d learned a long time ago not to owe anyone anything.

  But Tyler wasn’t Cash. And she sure as hell wasn’t fifteen anymore.

  “Thanks for that,” she said when Russ left, and as much as she was glad to be rid of him, she wished she hadn’t lost her excuse to press close to her savior.

  But when she glanced over her shoulder, Russ was making a beeline for a group of guys he knew who were sitting at a table. Maybe there was still a chance to turn this night around.

  “He’s still back there,” she said, hoping Russ would leave. Hoping Russ would stay if it meant Tyler would, too.

  Tyler ran a hand over his jaw, slow and easy, as if trying not to let those dimples show. “Then I guess you’re not rid of me yet.”

  He sat next to her and reached for his drink. She watched him swallow, the column of his neck, his Adam’s apple moving up and down. No matter that she had a beer in front of her—she was suddenly parched.

  “Where are you from?” she asked, straining for conversation when all she really wanted was to taste the whiskey off his lips.

  “Not here.”

  “What do you do?”

  Half a smile. The sense he wouldn’t let himself give more. “No talking about work.”

  Abbi let her own grin spread. “Fine with me.”

  It wasn’t like Sexy Stranger needed to know about the firebreak the Forest Service was building around Gold Mountain, or the fact that Abbi’s career hinged on making sure it didn’t go through.

  Her office was so small, there were hardly any opportunities to advance. But her boss was retiring, giving Abbi a once-in-a-lifetime chance to secure her dream job. As head of the Gold Mountain Nature Center, she could oversee projects and bring real change to the field. She knew she didn’t have all the skills the hiring committee was looking for, but she’d begged for the chance to take the lead on blocking the firebreak. If she succeeded, she’d have a proven track record showing she could handle it when things got tough. If not, and an outside candidate came along with more experience, then it looked like she’d be stuck at the same rung in the same small office forever.

  But nothing killed a lady boner quite like talking about all the ways she might fail. Shamelessly, she slid her leg up his, letting him know what she did want to do instead. The muscle in his jaw jumped. His eyes flashed dark over his whiskey glass.

  “California,” he said suddenly. “Southern.”

  “What?”

  “That’s where I’m from. Different from here.”

  “No shit.”

  “Yeah. That’s kind of the point.” He leaned closer. “Laugh like I just said something funny.”

  “Why?” she asked, and he gave a tilt of his head behind her, where Russ was looking at them.

  “We have an audience.”

  She grinned and he inched closer, bringing his lips to her ear. He whispered: “Poor Russ can’t stop staring at you. I can’t say I blame him.”

  Abbi traced a hand up his knee. Brought her other hand to the stubble on his jaw. Were they still pretending? It was getting hard to tell.

  She thought about Russ, watching. She thought about work, waiting. She thought about Cash, those memories from long ago. But she didn’t want to be thinking at all.

  His lips were so close to hers. Almost touching, almost pulling away. The anticipation as exciting as what she was waiting for.

  A few hours with someone who wasn’t from here, who’d be gone before he started pushing too close… It was exactly her kind of setup. No risk, and all the reward.

  She moved like she was going to kiss him and felt him arc toward her touch. At the last second, she turned and traced her lips up his cheek, toward his ear instead.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered.

  “Anything you want,” he said.

  She almost laughed at what he was suggesting. Could he give her a different life? A different past? Could he grant her a new job title and more opportunities and make the mess she faced with the Forest Service go away?

  Too bad his words were empty. Too bad the things she wanted were really hard to get.

  But she pushed all that down and slipped her hand in his. There was one thing he could give her.

  “How about you as my boyfriend for the rest of the night?”

  Chapter Three

  He was twelve hundred miles from L.A. In a bar with a beautiful stranger who wanted to go home with him. If he fucked this up for himself, he had no doubt Scotty would come back from the dead just to kill him.

  “Live a little!” Scott used to say, and Tyler would wave him away. But this was different. August nineteenth flashed through his head. His end date.

  After that, he’d be out of here. Not like his mom, running from place to place, but on his way to a new, stable, full-time job somewhere. With the Gold Mountain firebreak under his belt, he’d be able to show he had experience doing something besides letting people down. This summer would be nothing but a memory.

  So there was no possibility of getting serious now. This was just a chance for some fun. And it had been so, so long since he’d let himself have any fun. He left a twenty on the bar for an extra appreciative tip as he followed Abbi out.

  They threaded through the crowded restaurant and stepped into the night. He breathed deeply, thinking for the first time that it was kind of nice to be out of L.A. The air was cool after the heat of the day, the sky clear and full of stars.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asked.

  “Out of here,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  She looked at him, the trace of a smile on her lips. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

  “Am I supposed to be here for talking?”

  A burst of laughter rose up from across the parking lot. Russ and his buddies had come outside to smoke under a streetlamp. “Shit,” Abbi said, the light in her eyes darkening. “You-know-who is still here.”

  There was only one thing to do. Tyler turned and pr
essed her against the side of a car, covering her body with his. “Good thing you have a boyfriend,” he said. A boyfriend who didn’t want to wait another second to start acting like one.

  He knew he shouldn’t be getting caught up like this. He should have gone straight to the rental house, alone like he deserved. But she hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pulled his hips into hers.

  And then he stopped waiting, stopped thinking, stopped talking himself out of what felt right. He kissed her hard until his mind went blank.

  Her touch was firm, insistent, not at all shy. For the first time in over a month he forgot the blaze, the heat, the fear. How he’d kept shouting for Scotty long after he’d known his cries wouldn’t be returned.

  It was like some kind of drug. One taste of her and he already needed more.

  “Is this your car?” Tyler pulled away long enough to ask.

  “No,” Abbi said breathlessly, her hand in the back of his hair. “I have no idea whose car this is.”

  “My truck is across the lot.” He kissed the side of her neck, running his hands up her side and brushing the swell of her breasts.

  “You want to fuck me in the parking lot?”

  Holy shit. She didn’t sound opposed to the idea.

  Tyler bit her earlobe. “I’d fuck you anywhere.”

  And he meant it.

  The rise of laughter came again from the other side of the lot. Tyler thought for a second that Abbi was going to drop to her knees right then and there. He wouldn’t have protested…but that seemed a little much for getting back at Russ. He didn’t want that to be the only reason she was interested in him.

  But instead she said, “Not here.”

  “I’d invite you to my place, but I just got in today. I haven’t even been to the house I’m renting to check it out.”

  He should have stopped there first, brought in a few bags, made sure it at least had a bed. He should have shaved. Put on a better shirt before going out.

  But then he might have missed his window here. And Abbi didn’t seem to mind the faded T-shirt, jeans, and three days of scruff from his drive.

  She pressed a finger to the center of his chest and pushed him back just an inch. “I’m the red Subaru. Follow me.”

  He watched her cross the lot, realizing too late that she was parked right next to where Russ and his friends were gathered. He should have walked her to her car, he should have gone over there, he should be doing something to—

  Russ flicked his cigarette on the ground.

  “There’s a trash can right over there,” Abbi said coolly.

  “Bite me,” Russ said.

  “I’d rather not.”

  “That’s not what you used to say.”

  Tyler’s fists clenched as Russ’s buddies roared up laughing.

  But Abbi ran her hand through her hair and shrugged as though she honestly didn’t get what the problem was. It made Russ sputter not to get a rise out of her.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was seeing someone,” Abbi said. “I’d hoped to do it differently. But now you know.”

  Then she got in the car. Tyler’s fists loosened. She was okay. Everything was okay. He was going to learn how to relax, goddamn it. For tonight, at least, Abbi was going to teach him how.

  He expected her to lead him through the town, to some central place where the houses were. But instead she turned down a winding side street and pulled in front of a building that said Gold Mountain Nature Center out front.

  Tyler was surprised. It was exactly where he had to be on Monday morning. He had a meeting with the Forest Service representatives who’d hired him to oversee the firebreak, along with one of the naturalists at the center and whoever was in charge of construction. At least now he knew where the place was.

  But it wasn’t where he wanted to be on a Saturday night. Especially not when he’d been anticipating pressing Abbi against the front door to her house while she fumbled with the keys.

  He parked next to her and stepped out of his truck as she slammed her car door. “You live at the nature center?”

  Abbi laughed. “Come on, stranger. Did I say I was taking you home?”

  “Um. Do I need to be worried?” he asked.

  “That depends. How’s your night vision?”

  “It’s okay,” he said warily. It wasn’t a question he normally fielded on dates—first or otherwise. They were having sex, right? Had he completely misunderstood this whole night?

  But when she grabbed his hand, her touch—and her grin—were anything but chaste.

  …

  She almost hoped he’d protest. Then, when she said good-bye at the end of the night, it’d be easy to keep moving without looking back. Oh well, she could say. Guess he wasn’t that great after all.

  He could have at least asked for a flashlight, or demanded to know what she was doing. But when she took his hand, he followed.

  She led him up a narrow trail through the woods. She’d walked it so many times, she knew where to point out the rocks and roots. Tyler didn’t have any trouble. He hooked a finger in her back pocket, the pressure on her ass making her almost wish she’d picked her bed because at least they’d be in it by now.

  But then, after a short uphill stretch that Tyler’s long legs took as though it were nothing, they arrived at the opening and he stopped, yanking her back so she was up against his solid body, and she knew why they were there.

  “Wow,” he said, one hand snaking around her stomach as his lips found the side of her neck. “I’m sure your house is nice, but…wow.”

  They’d arrived at the edge of a clearing, a large field that sloped gently back toward where it disappeared into another copse of trees. It was where school groups came to play, and a place couples rented for weddings. They couldn’t see the view at night, but Abbi could feel it, the dark stamp of mountains rising to a starry sky.

  “It’s my favorite place,” she said, and then revised her statement. “I mean my favorite place that doesn’t take three days to hike to.”

  She pulled out of his grasp and took off, racing to the gazebo at the far end of the field. When he finally caught her, he spun her and pressed her back against the railing.

  “No more running,” he panted.

  “What’s the matter? Can’t keep up?”

  His teeth found her bottom lip. It wasn’t a playful nip but a hard, possessive bite, so greedy it sent a rocket of flames to her core. “No more getting away from me.”

  Tyler may have just scrambled her brain, but she still knew the answer to that. “Then don’t let me get away.”

  He slid his hands along her stomach, drawing up her shirt. “Guess I’ll have to keep you wanting this.”

  Abbi groaned as he tweaked her nipple, her whole body straining for him. Oh, he was good. He was very, very good.

  His other hand moved down, working the button of her jeans, and slipped lower. He moaned in her ear when he found what he was looking for.

  She tried to reach for his zipper, but he lifted her and sat her on the railing, her legs hanging over the edge. He unlaced her shoes and pulled them off, then yanked her shirt over her head and dropped it to the ground. Her jeans soon followed.

  When he took off his T-shirt, Abbi groaned. The moon and shadows exaggerated the planes of his body, the place where the veins jumped across his biceps and the deep cut between his pecs and his abs. This guy obviously didn’t push papers all day. She shouldn’t have let him weasel out of that whole who are you, anyway? conversation back at the bar.

  Or maybe she’d been the one doing the weaseling…

  But it didn’t matter. That wasn’t why they were here. They were here so he could get down on his knees, right there in the dirt, and say, “Spread,” a throaty command as he ran his hands up her thighs.

  Abbi shivered. Fuck, yes. His tongue teased her around the edge of her underwear and she hooked her ankles over his shoulders, trying to guide him where she wanted. If he turned out to be anothe
r Russ, who couldn’t find the clitoris even when she’d literally drawn him a map complete with the anatomically correct designations he’d slept through in middle school—

  But oh God, oh God, Tyler knew what the clitoris was. He had the map. Hell, he’d drawn the map. He may as well have invented the map for the way he tongued her. He started over her panties, teasing, soft, getting to know her. Making her wait and wait.

  And then, when she was about to grab his face and make him get there already, he slid her underwear to the side and sucked her throbbing clit into his mouth as though he couldn’t get enough.

  She reached out to grab one of the poles supporting the roof of the gazebo. It was rough against her hand but she didn’t care. She used her other hand to prop herself up on the railing, giving her the leverage she needed to circle her hips in rhythm with his tongue.

  He looked up at her position and frowned. “No splinters,” he said, and with the same strength he’d used to lift her, he picked her up again and laid her in the grass.

  Abbi had brought men to the gazebo before. They usually shrugged and went along with it but made it clear they thought she was crazy—which, to be fair, they probably thought anyway, from her bright clothes to her ever-changing hair to her decision to spend so much time alone in the woods.

  But whenever she’d done it, it had been in the gazebo. Usually bracing herself against the bench.

  Not that she disliked that one bit.

  But in a way, the gazebo was her compromise. Here’s a place that’s not a bed. But there’s still a structure, a roof, something to hold on to.

  For Tyler, the gazebo was more like an afterthought. He put her right down on the bare earth and slid her underwear over her ankles, letting it fall somewhere behind him. She took off her bra and felt the unexpected sensation of her body in the grass, naked and open, the tickle of it on her back. The warmth as his mouth found her again. She ground her hips into him, cried out when he slid a finger and then another inside her, stretching her deliciously—but not nearly as much as she wanted.

  She told him to find her pants.

  “You want me to do something else?” he asked as he passed them over.

 

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