Stripped Down

by Erin McCarthy

  “Lilly doesn’t need a ride,” Sullivan said. “I always drive her home.”

  Geez Louise, Sullivan was being a jerk tonight.

  “Lilly doesn’t need you to speak for her.” Sloane would give him a pass due to the circumstances of the night, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him bully Lilly.

  “Actually, yes, I’d love to go with you guys. I’m beat.” She gave Sloane a rueful look. “Herding these guys was no easy task.”

  “Hey. I take exception at that,” Rick said, though he didn’t sound even remotely offended.

  “I’ll take you home, Lilly,” Sullivan said, his tone hard.

  Sloane sighed. Either Sullivan was drunk, just better at hiding it than she was, or he was in a really bad place. She was going to text their father that he needed to drive Sullivan home. Or maybe, she needed to go home with him. Maybe he needed to talk, to vent, to yell. “Sullivan, relax. Do you want me to wait and hang out with you? We can talk about… stuff. Or whatever.”

  Damn, that sounded awkward. But they were not a feelings family. They avoided emotion like the plague, always had since her mother had died. They joked, they picked on each other, they exploded. Then pretended it hadn’t happened. It was their dad’s coping mechanism and they had picked it up right along with him.

  She wasn’t surprised when Sullivan snorted. “Do I look like I want to talk? Do you want to talk?”

  She thought about her reaction when he had tried to bring up Tom and winced. Yeah. O’Tooles didn’t do feelings.

  “I thought so.” He turned to Lilly. “Do you want a ride or not?”

  Lilly’s cheeks were flushed. “No thanks. I appreciate it, but I’m tired.”

  “Whatever then.” He stomped off.

  Like actually stomped off. “What the hell was that?” Sloane murmured. She’d seen him the last few days and while grumpy as hell he hadn’t been this aggressive. Though she knew this night had to have kicked up some bad feelings.

  Lilly looked embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have pushed this charity event. I think it was too much, too soon.”

  “I don’t know,” Rick said. “He could have said no to the whole thing and he didn’t. He’ll be okay. He just needs to be a dick sometimes when he’s upset.”

  That made Sloane roll her eyes hard. “Nice excuse aka justification.”

  Rick just shrugged. “I am a sympathetic guy, what can I say?”

  Sloane eyed Rick, curious and a little amused. She could see shades of Little Dickie still in him. The nice guy. The easy temperament.

  “Okay, who’s calling a car? I think the party is over.” She was ready to leave whatever the hell that had been with her brother behind at the bar. He had every reason to be a buzzkill and he was certainly taking advantage of that but it was the wee hours of her birthday. She wanted to forget, not worry about Sullivan.

  “On it,” Rick said, pulling out his phone.

  Sloane realized instantly there was no way he either hadn’t seen her text earlier or wasn’t seeing it now. It would be right on his screen, screaming out to him that she wanted to kiss him. But he just glanced at his phone before swiping the screen and opening the app.

  “We’re waiting for a black Toyota Camry.”

  They went outside to wait and Sloane studiously ignored both Rick’s bike and the man himself. She would have to call her insurance the next day, despite what he had said earlier. But the real cause for her awkwardness was he was not saying a damn word about her text. Had she forgotten how to read signals from single guys? No. That was stupid. He had asked her to hang out. Teased her about a sleepover. The kiss.

  She refused to regret her impulsive action.

  Lilly jumped into the front passenger seat, which left Sloane climbing into the back seat with Rick. He smiled at her and reached over and gave her knee a squeeze. She didn’t know how to interpret that. That was a promising sign, right? She’d been out of the flirting game for a long time.

  As far as she was concerned the ball was in Rick’s court because she’d thrown it out there. She kind of hated that though. She’d always gone after what she had wanted and now she was being so tentative. Ugh.

  Ignoring Rick while she tried to find her mojo, she asked Lilly, “Where do you live? I’m in the apartments on Main over the pet grooming salon and the auto shop.” Which reminded her. That had to be Rick’s shop. How many auto body shops were there in Beaver Bend? It was directly underneath her, in the same building. He would be working there while she would be working at the pet salon right next door. The thought made her more excited than it should. Honestly, she hadn’t been this excited since Netflix started dropping full seasons of hit shows at once.

  “Oh, God, I’m way out in the boonies,” Lilly said. “We should drop you and Rick off first then.”

  “Where do you live?” she asked Rick.

  “Really close to you.”

  That meant she was likely to be running into him all over town on a regular basis. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She was leaning toward good.

  “How cool,” Lilly said. “You can borrow a cup of sugar whenever.” She rattled off her address to the driver.

  “Lilly, we’ll ride out with you,” Rick said in a firm voice.

  He gave Sloane a look that she interpreted to mean that he wasn’t cool with Lilly riding out into the country at night with a total stranger, hired car service or not. Sloane had to agree. “Exactly.”

  Except that it was a long ride and Rick’s hand was back on her knee. Like a big torturous oddity that was both disconcerting and arousing. He had very large hands. The weight wasn’t light. It was solid, heavy. Manly. What could he do with those hands?

  Sloane wanted desperately to squirm but at the same time wanted to be so damn cool that she gave the appearance of being completely unaffected. Nor did she want Lilly to have any sort of opinion about it, either positive or negative. Lilly was chatting away about the upcoming Fish Festival, a Beaver Bend tradition in late August. Sloane had always thought everything “small town” was so cheesy. Funny what a few years could do to change your perspective.

  Rick was moving his thumb up and down in what was now a caress of her thigh, just above the knee in a way that made her all too aware of how long it had been since her thigh had been touched. Or anything north of her knees. Or any of her. Rick’s hand was callused from his career choice and it created a hot friction. Back and forth he stroked her in a way that made her want to moan out loud. She could hardly concentrate on Lilly’s conversation.

  The second Lilly got out of the car and they watched her go into her ranch house, Sloane turned to Rick. He was driving her crazy and she couldn’t keep quiet another minute. “Are you scared of the dark?”

  He looked genuinely confused. “What? No. Why?”

  “Because you seem like you’re scared and need to hold on to something.” She looked pointedly at his hand on her leg.

  Rick laughed and it was a low, seductive sound that made her shiver. “Trust me. I’m not touching you because I’m afraid. And I’m pretty damn sure you know that.” He leaned closer to her, his shoulder brushing hers. “Hey, Sloane?”

  Her mouth went dry. She was very aware of the driver in the front seat, a seemingly nice man in his fifties who was studiously ignoring them. “Yes?”

  Rick was eyeing her intently, his gaze dropping down to her lips.

  His jaw was chiseled, his brow strong. His eyes, which she had never once made note of in high school, were an intriguing green. He leaned in even closer so that his breath tickled her cheek. Sloane shivered.

  Rick murmured in her ear. “I’m going to prove it to you so long and sexy and hot that you won’t have any doubts.”

  Wow. Her nipples instantly went hard and she pulled in a deep breath. She knew what he meant. “Oh, really?” she asked. “And when is this going to happen?” Her whole body felt warm, liquid, and it wasn’t the tequila. It was anticipation and desire.

  “A
s soon as we get to your place.”

  Yep. There it was. She cheered herself for sending that text. She wanted to kiss Little Dickie. The irony of that was not lost on her. She pulled back slightly so she could give him a smile. It had been a long time since she’d felt this sassy. It was welcoming an old friend back home. “Are we taking bets? Vegas odds?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “What’s the fun in betting on a sure thing?”

  Oh, he was smooth. She’d give him that.

  He jerked his thumb behind him. “And look, we’re here.”

  It almost felt prophetic. “Yes. We are.”

  Four

  Rick never took anything for granted. Growing up the way he had, he appreciated everything positive that came his way. He was sitting in the backseat of a car and Sloane O’Toole was inviting him to prove himself.

  It was his fantasy sprung to life and he was going to make her so very pleased she had sent him that text.

  The text he was going to screen shot and save as a trophy.

  He reached out and ran his thumb over her full bottom lip. He wanted to kiss her, but he was patient. It could wait until they were alone. Hell, he’d waited over a dozen years for this. “Let me get the door.”

  He opened the car and got out. He thanked the driver as Sloane slid out the same door he had exited. Her long legs in those tight jeans were an amazing thing. He felt a hint of guilt over Sullivan. They’d been best friends a long time and Sullivan clearly did not want him hooking up with Sloane. But hell, he was twenty-eight and Sloane was thirty. A grown-ass woman. She could do what she wanted.

  Sullivan wasn’t thinking right, anyway. He was drinking and fucking his way through Beaver Bend, angry at the world. Maybe it was as simple as he didn’t want anyone else having fun right now. Besides, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  And maybe this kiss would go nowhere. Maybe it would be a pleasant kiss that would end there. But he had spent his adult life reading women and Sloane had made the decision to have sex with him. He could see it on her face, in her body language. It was sexual determination that if the kiss went well, she wanted him in her bed.

  Which meant he was getting everything he wanted without any dating to confuse the situation. He had found that out the hard way. You take a woman out on a legitimate date, she has expectations. For obvious reasons.

  This was basically the world’s most perfect scenario.

  Sloane. No strings attached. Perfection.

  He zipped his jumpsuit up and down methodically, wanting to touch Sloane with every bone in his body but not wanting to give the neighbors a show. In a small town there was always talk. He was notorious for bed hopping. It wasn’t something he was ashamed of at all. He and every woman he had been with had both been willing partners, with a mutually satisfying conclusion.

  But this was different.

  This was Sloane.

  Which he had to admit, gave him pause even though he didn’t want it to. It was perfect. But… she had been drinking and he did not want her to regret anything tomorrow. His conscience started to work on him. Damn it. He’d have to proceed with caution.

  “How long are you in town for?” he asked her. “Is this a temporary thing until Sullivan regroups?” He already knew it wasn’t. He’d seen the lease she had signed because his sister forwarded all electronic documents of importance to him. It had been a twelve-month lease. He wondered if Sloane knew that he owned the building and, behind the LLC name on the lease, was technically her landlord.

  Sloane stopped in front of the door to the apartment building and turned to him. “I plan to stay here forever this time.” She tilted her head to the sky. “God, it’s beautiful out tonight, isn’t it? It’s the absolute perfect temperature.”

  “It is perfect tonight.” But all he saw was her. She had grown even further into her beauty, something he couldn’t have imagined at fifteen. He’d thought she was perfect then. But now she moved less self-consciously, with a simple confidence instead of the haughty veneer of her teen years. She had long cheekbones, full lips, and wide, luminous eyes the color of the lake in the summer. A deep, murky blue. She’d allowed her hair to relax in gentle raven waves now, unlike the stark, pin-straight style she’d had before. Everything about her seemed softer, gentler.

  Yet that signature sassiness was still there.

  “You are a shameless flirt,” she told him. “But I like it. For tonight, I like it.”

  “Tonight is all that matters,” he said, and he meant it. “Now let me kiss you under the moonlight.”

  “Do what you need to do.” Her tongue came out and slipped over her bottom lip.

  Rick fought the urge to groan. She wasn’t wearing lipstick, her makeup simple and neutral. He moved in closer to her, enjoying the way her eyes widened a little. He put his hand on the door, over her head, slightly to the right. The movement brought his chest closer to hers and she pressed herself back against the steel door as he invaded her space. She was nearly his height, with him only a few inches on her. It allowed them to gaze at each other, Rick taking in every one of her features, studying her gorgeous and expressive eyes.

  He had a hard cock already and he hadn’t even touched her.

  “I definitely need to do this,” he said, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Before his lips completely touched hers, he heard her soft sigh of pleasure and it made him even harder.

  The kiss did not disappoint. It was everything he remembered, but turned up. It was an adult kiss, with all the ease and skill of his years of experience. In high school, it had been chemistry. Just raw, unexpected chemistry as their mouths had moved over each other.

  Now it was everything.

  Sloane leaned in to him and it was a hot, scorching kiss. A perfect fit.

  With his free hand, Rick reached up to Sloane’s neck and cupped her to bring her forward, even closer. He wanted their bodies brushing, touching. Her breasts teased against him as he eased his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck. She smelled like lavender. She tasted like mint and tequila and the sugar sweetness of the syrup in her mojitos. It was amazing.

  The kiss didn’t end. It went on and on, pouring over them like honey out of the jar. Warm and delicious, desire rising in him with a slow simmer. It wasn’t urgent or desperate, but deep and persistent.

  When he finally pulled back, but staying firmly in her space, she let out an exhalation of air.

  “You’ve been practicing that, haven’t you?” she asked, teeth sinking into her bottom lip in a way that made his cock throb.

  He gave her a smile. “Yes. Hours and hours of dedication.”

  Sloane pushed on his chest just slightly, so he shifted backward. “It paid off.”

  Basically, that was better than winning the lottery. But he was entertained by her reluctance to say she enjoyed it. “You’re not going to admit you liked making out with me in the bathroom, are you?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m not. Save your breath.”

  “For what?”

  Sloane didn’t answer. She just dug in her purse for her keys, then turned and opened the exterior door. It was a small building, just four units total. She didn’t say goodnight but she didn’t invite him in either.

  He got a fabulous view of her ass climbing the stairs in front of him as he stood in the open doorway, still at street level.

  “What are you doing?” she asked him, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

  “Waiting for you to tell me what you want from me. Send me home or invite me in, Sloane.” He wasn’t the guy who was going to push what he wanted. Not with any woman but definitely not with Sloane. She was his best friend’s sister. He also wanted to delay the moment when she realized he lived directly across the hall from her.

  Sloane looked flustered. “Oh. Wow, I suck at flirting, don’t I? I’m out of practice.”

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  She nodded, slowly. “Yes. I want you to come in, R
ick.”

  He took one step then he said, “Tell me this before I come up there. On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you?” He did not want her to wake up with a pounding head and a shitload of regret.

  “What is one and what is ten?” She clutched her keys and stared down at him, her hair tumbling forward, expression amused.

  “One is you could walk a tightrope suspended between two skyscrapers. Ten is there is a high probability you’ll end the night over the toilet and won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

  She cocked her head and smiled. “I think I’m a four. I couldn’t walk a tightrope but I could walk a straight line. And actually even stone cold sober I couldn’t walk a tightrope. Will I remember this? Yes. I can one hundred percent guarantee that.”

  That was very good news. He took another step up. She didn’t look or sound particularly drunk so he was reassured she was in control.

  “What are you on your one to ten scale?” she asked.

  “A two.” He hadn’t drank that much and what he had, he had danced off.

  “So no whiskey dick?”

  That made him pause, caught off-guard. He laughed. “No whiskey dick.”

  “Is that really a thing?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

  Damn, she was so sexy. Rick took two more steps. “I wouldn’t know. It’s never been an issue for me. And with you? I can give you a one hundred percent guarantee I will be hard as a fucking rock.”

  Her eyes widened. “You sound very confident.”

  “Oh, I am.” He took another step. There were eight steps in total and he was halfway to her. Halfway to the woman who had plagued his teenage dreams and had made him hard with just one kiss at the door. He felt like he was stalking her, and maybe he was. But he wanted Sloane like he’d never wanted another woman.

  “Can you promise me something?” she asked.

  The stair treads creaked beneath his weight. “I can’t promise you I will hold back, no.”

  Even in the dim light of the hallway he could see her cheeks turn pink. She laughed softly. “No. I want you to promise you won’t tell Sullivan. Even though it’s none of his business, I don’t want to upset him.”