Chasing Mr. Wrong

by Joya Ryan

  He fucked her harder, faster. When her tight sheath clamped down on him, he knew she was close. So was he. No one had ever gotten to him like this woman. She basically insulted him at every turn, and all he could do was let the fire in him burn hotter, until it took over his entire body. He didn’t care about anything else but feeling her come again.

  She reached back and grabbed at the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer. The sexy woman did like it deep. Really fucking deep, and he was all too happy to see just how much she could take.

  “Jesus, sweetness…you make me lose my mind.”

  He buried himself to the hilt as he lifted her hips just enough to take him that fraction more. She screamed his name, and every ounce of pleasure was wrung from her like a tightly twisted towel. He felt her drench him, and the power of her release gripped and milked his cock.

  He came hard. The wave of her climax threw him into his own, and he spiraled down, unable to think, unable to breathe. Just as the last wave hit him, so did the sound of people…headed their way.

  With a muttered curse, he withdrew from her and disposed of the condom in a napkin in his pocket. Reality was setting in hard and fast, and adrenaline was taking over, making his body rock like an unsteady boulder balanced on a cliff.

  What the fuck was he thinking? He was in public! Could have been caught with his damn pants around his ankles by anyone. God forbid it was someone he did business with. He’d come out there to try to maintain control and had ended up losing even more of it.

  His eyes landed on Whitney. Just as he fastened his belt, she adjusted the lace that was quickly becoming his favorite thing ever, and pulled up her shorts.

  She ran a hand through her hair and looked around the truck to where the voices were coming from.

  Ryder just stood there, his heart beating in his ears as he realized how little control he actually had when it came to this woman. He’d lost his mind. His judgment. If one of those voices had belonged to Milton Davenport, Ryder could kiss the remodel and any future business good-bye. But it would be bad no matter who found him like this. No one would hire a careless man that had sex against his truck in public.

  He shook his head.

  Control.

  Get control.

  “Easy there, big guy,” Whitney said. “They didn’t catch us.”

  She looked at him from beneath those thick lashes, and a hint of a smile broke on those perfect lips. All the shit he’d just worried about? Gone. All he could think about were those lips and, pants around his ankles or not, he was ready to run and stumble after her for another taste.

  She went to walk away, but Ryder grabbed her hand.

  “It’s not that,” he said. “I mean, it’s not you. I just…”

  “I get it. You can’t be seen fucking around, literally.”

  “I wouldn’t call what just happening fucking around,” he growled, not liking the slightly dark look in her eyes. He wasn’t ashamed of her at all. Hell, she’d just fulfilled one of his long-standing fantasies. But he was worried about the man that came out around her. He’d just fucked her against his truck, in public, hard. That was not his MO.

  When it came to Whitney, nothing was his MO, though. His operating mode was completely different. And that was what he needed to get a handle on. Because living for a fantasy was a sure way to kiss your real life good-bye.

  But she was enticing as hell. And the euphoria she left him with was making him want to smile like a fool and beg for round two.

  “Doesn’t matter what you call it,” Whitney said. “You stayed true to your word.” She glanced down at herself. “My clothes never came off.”

  Yeah, he had stayed true to it, but for the first time, he felt it was a damn shame. The only thought that rushed through his mind and out of his mouth was the exact wrong thing to say.

  “Maybe next time, sweetness.”

  Because, despite his rules and guidelines, he was definitely already thinking about next time.

  Chapter Seven

  Ryder measured the wood again, marked with a pencil the spot he needed to cut, and let the tape snap back into the holder. This cabinet was going to be the centerpiece of the entire Davenport Hall and the first thing anyone saw when walking in.

  It had to be perfect.

  Which was why, despite the time-consuming process, the piece was custom made, right down to the blood and sweat he was putting into it. From the design to the intricate crafting, everything about this one piece was tasteful and elegant.

  He took another measurement, glanced at the plans for the design, and made a few more marks.

  What’s Whitney doing right now?

  Jesus, where had that thought come from? He ran a hand over his brow, then leaned over the workbench and continued with his task.

  The workbench was the perfect height. He could hop Whitney right up, toss her legs around his waist, and be inside her in a millisecond—

  He flicked his pencil away and took a deep breath. He needed to get his mind right and focus. But damn it, he could still feel her. Smell her on his skin. She was lingering in his brain, his dreams, and his body.

  He stared at the massive project in front of him and commanded himself to focus. Yet the one truth he’d known since the other night with her was ringing clear:

  He was still thinking about next time he’d see her.

  “Hey,” Huck said, coming up behind him and slapping down a stain sample on the cabinet. “Davenport just called and said he wants to go with this lighter stain color,” Huck tapped the sample, “instead of the darker.”

  Ryder exhaled and grabbed up the card. “Glad he changed his mind before I started.”

  “Yeah,” Huck agreed.

  Ryder unhooked his tool belt and adjusted his hat.

  “You’re leaving?” Huck asked.

  “I’m going to get the stain now. I need a breather.” Which was the understatement of the damn day. He needed to clear his head, and a quick trip to the store was a good excuse as any. So long as he stayed away from the diner, everything should be fine.

  It only took him a few minutes to go to the store and grab the color, but already he was feeling better. With the item in hand, he looked over the selection of wood stains—

  When a pair of sexy legs in cutoff shorts caught his eye.

  Whitney.

  She was looking at the mini paint cans, and Ryder couldn’t help but slink down the aisle closer to her. She took down a can and bit her lip while she looked it over, only to put it back and examine another one.

  He was convinced right then that everything the woman did was sexy. Even looking at paint.

  “Looking for something in particular?” he asked.

  She jumped a little, startled by him, and he grinned. Catching her off guard was a special kind of delight.

  “Just some paint,” she said.

  “Pretty small job if you’re only looking at the tiny sample sizes.”

  “There’s some chips and marks on some of the booths at the BBQ. I thought I could patch them up. Penny thinks it’s a great idea.”

  Ryder took a step closer, it was his turn to be surprised now. “That’s some initiative.”

  She was in town for a short while, yet she treated her job and his sister with respect. There was a lot of character in Whitney, more he was discovering every day. Which wasn’t helping his resolve to resist her.

  “Just doing my job. And I like to stay busy,” she said, but he knew it was more than that. She cared enough to help in small ways. There was a lot he wanted to say to her—do to her—but the aisles were lined with people.

  “Busy?” Ryder asked. “I take it you’re not the ‘take it easy and relax’ kind of woman?”

  The way her gaze hit his chest, then trailed down to his belt and back up, made his cock instantly respond, and those fantasies he’d been fighting climbed to the forefront of his mind.

  “There’s way too much to experience for me to relax,” she said, with a throaty tone
and a lusty look. “For example, did you know people get naked, cover their bodies in paint and have sex on a big sheet of paper?” She tapped one of the cans and looked his body over as if imagining a painting session herself, and his thoughts were right there with her.

  “That right?” he rasped. “Well, I’ve never been much of an art genius, but some body paint sounds right up my alley.”

  “Maybe it’s an experience you should consider,” she said with a smile.

  He knew right away what she meant, because he’d give up sleep just to stay in orgasmic bliss experiencing her.

  He closed in the last few feet until his mouth hovered over hers. He placed his hand on the paint wall behind her and leaned in…

  Crash!

  One of the paint cans fell to the floor, snapping him back to reality.

  Everyone looked his way, and he bent down and picked up the can, thankful it hadn’t exploded.

  The trance was broken, and he was kind of pissed at the paint can for that. He set it back on the shelf harder than he meant to.

  “Well, I hope you enjoy your experience painting,” he said. With that, he grabbed the red paint he knew matched the color of the booths and handed it to her. He turned and walked back to his own aisle.

  Even though everything in his body was screaming for him to turn around.

  Diamond: Bright, Shiny, and Rough around the edges.

  Whitney held up the T-shirt and looked at the bright red lettering. Hmm. It was her first day off since she’d been in Diamond, and it was a tradition that she always got a shirt from the places she’d been. But she was having trouble picking out the right one.

  At least it was giving her something to do until the next time she ran into Ryder. After the paint aisle run-in with him the other day, she’d resolved to stay away from the hardware store, and anywhere else he frequented, because holy hell, just being near him got her hot. And she knew that wasn’t the way to get naughty Ryder to come out and play again.

  He wanted distance? She was giving it. It was only a matter of time before that distance ate away at his self-control and brought him back to her for another round.

  After they’d had sex on his truck—pause for shivers at the memory—she’d realized that Ryder liked his boundaries and rules and control. And Whitney was learning she liked losing control with him. Especially when he lost it back. He just needed time to convince himself he was in control. And then? Pause for more shivers.

  She held up another shirt and looked at the slogan.

  Diamond: vampire-free but we still sparkle.

  She raised a brow. It felt more lackluster than anything, but she liked the creativity.

  “Hi there!” a sweet voice rang out. Lily McCade stood next to her in pink scrubs, with a small basket dangling from her arm.

  “Hi,” Whitney said. “How are you?”

  “I’m well, thanks. Just getting off work. It’s nice to see you again.”

  Whitney had met her briefly when she’d come into the BBQ a few nights before. She and Penny seemed to be BFFs of some kind.

  “You settling in all right?” Lily asked. Her sunny hair and rosy cheeks gave off a glow no one else seemed to have. She wasn’t much older than Whitney, yet she was decades beyond her in experience. There was a maturity and patience in Lily that made Whitney feel at ease. It was the same kind of light she’d loved about her sister Kacey.

  “Yeah, I was just looking for a T-shirt.”

  “Oh, well those look like great choices.” Though her words were nice, her frown made Whitney think twice. Lily shook her head slightly. “I think those are too big for you, though.”

  Whitney glanced at the shirt she was holding. It was, in fact, two sizes too big. “I like them a bit bigger.” She usually tied them up to wear during the day, and they could double as nightshirts to wear in the evenings.

  She tapped the one in Whitney’s hand. “Well, this green here is a great color. Would look great with your skin tone.”

  She glanced at Lily’s basket. It had a toy water gun, Cheetos, and peanut butter in it. Though this little shop on Main wasn’t a grocery store, it had odd knickknacks and a few essentials. They also had a bulk candy bin in the back that Whitney had her eye on. She’d need to stock up on Sour Patch Kids sooner than later. But it was small and quaint and seemed to be a place a lot of people frequented.

  “I was just getting a little toy for Alex.” Lily sighed and held up the water gun. “He spends most of his summers in the water, and I assume this year will be no different.”

  Whitney nodded. “How old is he?”

  A proud smile lit up Lily. “Almost seven. I can’t believe how fast it goes.”

  Judging by Lily’s youthful glow, she must have had Alex when she was young. The closer she looked at those big blue eyes, the more she saw not only patience, but sadness, like life had been hard on her a time or two. Whitney recognized that look. It was one worn by a person who had loved and lost.

  Whitney couldn’t help but wonder who Lily had lost.

  “You have anything planned for Saturday night?” Lily asked, reaching past Whitney to grab a bottle of tequila off the nearby shelf. She might be a mama, but apparently she also knew how to have a good time.

  “Just working,” Whitney said. “I think I have the breakfast to lunch shift that day, though.”

  “Yeah, Penny mentioned that Rocco would work the late shift so you two could come over.”

  Whitney frowned. “Come over?”

  “Yes, girls’ night at my place. You have to come. I hope you like margaritas and The Bachelor. Although…” She let out a long huff. “We can’t actually talk about The Bachelor much anymore because Autumn gets really mad. And it has nothing to do with pregnancy hormones. She starts going off on how all the men are jerks and that no one really likes roses anyway. But she’s still lots of fun!”

  Whitney remembered Autumn—aka Auto—from last week. “She’s the pregnant supermodel, right?”

  Lily laughed. “Yep, that’s her. Only she runs the mechanic shop.”

  Whitney nodded. It sounded like fun, a night with girls. She hadn’t done that since…

  Kacey was alive.

  In fact, she hadn’t really made friends in the entire year she’d been bouncing from place to place.

  “I don’t want to intrude,” she said, but Lily just frowned fiercely and put a hand on her hip.

  “You aren’t. I invited you because I want you there. So do the other girls.”

  Wow, Lily had the mom glare and tight language down. From the tone of her voice, she was bringing Whitney into the fold, and there was no chance to turn down the offer. Like Whitney was family, and that was that. Period.

  “Okay.” Whitney caved instantly, unable to deny the bright-eyed, tough chick a thing. She knew how to deliver a command, that was for sure.

  “Great!” She smiled, back to being Mary Sunshine. “Just come on over with Penny. It’ll be so fun. I can’t wait!”

  “Can I bring anything?” Whitney asked.

  Lily glanced at the bottle of tequila. “Just your liver and your gossip voice. Because I’m dying to hear more about Mr. Diamond and how he’s all riled up by you.” Lily winked and headed toward the register.

  Whitney watched Lily walk out into the midday sun. God, what had Whitney done to deserve that kind of goodness? Usually she couldn’t wait to get out of town, but the city of Diamond was already working its way into her heart. Heck, at this rate, she might even enjoy her summer.

  Construction noises rang loudly. She peered across the street and saw a massive, beautiful, old-looking building with men in hard hats going in and out. But what really caught her eye was a familiar red truck parked out front.

  Ryder’s truck.

  The sounds of sawing and banging rang out again, and Whitney caught a glimpse of the tall, chiseled man who made her knees wobbly walk from the building to his truck. He was covered in sweat and dust, and a tool belt hung low on his hips. She licked he
r lips, watching all his muscles bunch as he hopped up into the bed of his truck and looked through some supplies.

  Whitney didn’t remember when, exactly, she’d put the shirts back and walked outside. She also didn’t remember when she’d started hovering behind an antique-looking streetlamp. Her eyes just stayed on Ryder, and she lifted to her tiptoes to get a closer view of the sexy contractor bending over. Damn, those jeans molded perfectly to the finest ass she’d ever seen.

  It was a work of art.

  He glanced up and—shit, shit, shit, caught her staring right at him.

  She spun around, but it was too late.

  “You know if you stop hiding behind the pole and come closer, you can stare at me even better,” he yelled.

  She turned back, and he tossed her a wink. Great. Just great. He’d caught her, and now his ego was likely off the charts.

  All she could do was fake nonchalance and strut over. So she did. In her best I totally meant for you to catch me walk. And she tried not to let the heat of embarrassment show on her cheeks.

  He hopped down out of his truck just as she reached him.

  “Well, hello there,” he said. “Mighty fine day we’re having.”

  He wanted to comment about the weather? Fine, she could dish small talk.

  “Yep,” she said drily.

  “Enjoying the town and all it has to offer?” he asked in a husky tone. He lifted the edge of his T-shirt and wiped his brow, putting on display those impressive abs. Holy God of all things holy, the man was made of pure stone. Tan, lickable stone.

  The couple of times she’d been with Ryder, she hadn’t gotten a good look at him, and that was turning into a big fat regret at the moment, because he was not only strong, he was ripped. She was suddenly desperate to touch what she’d finally gotten to see.

  “Suppose I could be enjoying it more,” she said.

  “Oh?” He let his shirt drop, and she checked the urge to pout. “Well, you let me know if I can help in any way. I’m mighty proud of this town and would be happy to show you whatever you’d like to see.”