STEAL (Right Men Series Book 2)

by Mayra Statham

Vaughn.

  She quickly said good night and had gone into her room to talk to their roommate. Something about the way she ran off hadn’t sat well with him. If she hadn’t shared the fact that Vaughn played for the other team, he would have been jealous. Which surprised him. He wasn’t the kind to get jealous. Not even with his ex-wife had he felt that.

  Valerie brought out the caveman in him.

  A louder clunk rang in the air, and he quietly moved to his nightstand. He grabbed his gun then, without making a sound, he popped out of his room and into the dark hall. His gun in the air, hand on the light switch, he could make out the shadow of someone between Val and his room. The idea of anyone slipping into her room, hurting her, made his stomach clench. Not on my watch.

  “Police!” he shouted, his gun out at the shadow in front of him as he switched the light on.

  “Jesus! Fuck!” Val jumped in the air, and he watched the wrench she had in her hand slip and fall right on her feet. “Oww! Ouch! Shit!” she cried out a second after the wrench hit her toes. “Damn it, Bryan!” She jumped, grabbing her toe.

  Quickly, he slipped his gun into the waistband of his fitted grey boxer briefs and went to her. His heart was racing in his chest. He didn’t know what to expect but her standing there, wearing what she was wearing, was not it.

  “Shit, Blondie. I’m sorry,” he said, his throat drying as he took in the sight of her, bent at the waist, her luscious ass in the air. She stood, and he swallowed. Hard.

  She was wearing a tight bright pink tee that clung to her breasts, the material darker in spots because of the sweat rolling down her body; and despite the heat, her nipples strained forward, pebbled and hard. His eyes roamed lower before he shut them, his nose flared. Tight pink short shorts that showed off so much skin.

  “Are you insane! Do you normally wake up and walk around with a gun?” she shouted, and he smirked at her attitude.

  With her eyes glued to his chest, he stood taller and flexed his arms before crossing them over his chest. Grinning like a smug bastard on the inside, he shrugged. “What are you doing? It’s two a.m.”

  “Having a tea party!” she sarcastically answered. “The AC is broken!” She pointed toward the thermostat. “And instead of the fans just blowing air, the heater is on! I can’t get it to change or turn off.” Her eyes widened as he approached her. Sure enough, the heater was blowing hot air and the house was at a way too cozy eighty-eight degrees.

  “And beating it with a wrench was the way to go?” he asked, his eyes fixated on how the hair at her neck stuck to her skin with sweat. He wanted to lick that spot.

  “Look, smartass, it’s so hot I can’t think straight. I was trying to fix it.”

  “Okay, Miss HGTV, how do we do that?”

  “I have no clue!” She threw her arms in the air, obviously overwhelmed, and just like that, his dirty mind switched over to taking care of her. Protecting and calming her down while taking care of what was his.

  Mine? The heat was definitely fucking with his thoughts.

  “Okay. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and walked them to the kitchen.

  Setting his gun on the counter, he opened the back door as well as a couple of windows that faced the backyard. “Sit,” he ordered and was shocked she did as she was told without giving him any lip.

  He filled two glasses with ice from the freezer and water from the Brita pitcher in the fridge then handed her a glass. “Drink.”

  “Yes, sir,” she snipped. His blood felt like it swooped south at her calling him sir, but all he did was shake his head. “We might have to call an HVAC guy,” she commented with a sigh. He nodded.

  “Probably.” he agreed, not liking the worry in her eyes.

  “I don’t think I can sleep in this heat,” she complained, obviously exhausted. He didn’t know if she had meant to share or not, but this was a problem he could solve.

  “I’ll open all the windows, get more of a breeze in and try to air out the house,” he offered.

  “That’s a good idea,” she agreed, drinking some of her water.

  Bryan found himself dumbfounded watching her drink. He was like a damn horny teenager around her. His eyes fixated on a stray drop of water as it dribbled down her lips, to her chin, until her fingers swiped it away. Like a snap of his fingers, his thoughts went from trying to be helpful to sexually depraved.

  The image of her jade-like eyes looking up at him as his cock drove in and out of her mouth slowly until he came down her pretty little throat swam in his head. He imagined just the way she would swallow every drop he would give her. His balls tightened and his body shivered despite the heat.

  “Are you okay?” she asked with a frown, and he turned away.

  “Yeah,” he lied. “Just thirsty,” he hoarsely clarified, gulping down his own water, trying to calm his body. He was in nothing but boxer briefs, meaning an erection was going to be impossible to hide.

  That’s when he remembered what he had done only two days earlier after work, and an idea came to mind. He knew he was playing with fire, getting closer to her, but he didn’t care. He wanted to get closer to her.

  “We can sleep outside; it’s a hell of a lot cooler out there,” he suggested, trying to make it sound like he didn’t care either way. But I do.

  When he had installed the hammock, he had done it thinking about what it would be like to lay back in it, her body snuggled close to his, while he closed his eyes and she read.

  “What?” she blinked slowly. She was slightly confused and surprised. And he fucking liked that look. God, I am an asshole.

  “I set up a hammock out there,” he informed her, and her pretty face scrunched up adorably.

  “When?” she asked.

  “After work a day or two ago.”

  “What?” she stuttered.

  “I have another one. I was going to set that up later today. You get the hammock, I’ll sleep in a chair.”

  “You would sleep in a chair?” she asked, and he shrugged. Unless she offers to have me sleep next to her. The idea of it playing in his head had his cock waking back up, and he shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

  “I’ve slept in worse places,” he shared with her and liked the way her face went worried before she frowned.

  “You have?” she asked. He nodded.

  “Yeah. On stakeouts. A car sucks to sleep in, but you do what you have to do.”

  “Oh.” He watched as she bit her gorgeous lower lip. “Is it a small hammock?” she asked as he fought his smile.

  Hook, line, and sinker.

  “It’s a good size.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She looked toward the living room and didn’t say anything else. His own cocky smile that he’d been fighting died. Maybe she wouldn’t suggest they bunk together.

  “Let me grab a couple of blankets and pillows while you drink up,” he suggested before standing and walking out of the kitchen.

  After pulling on a pair of red gym shorts in his bedroom, he put his gun away in his safe and grabbed what they would need for their impromptu outdoor sleepover.

  The kitchen was empty when he returned, the back door open. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her. The moonlight spilled over her skin, and he was dying for another taste. Hair in a messy French braid, she looked over her shoulder, giving him a small smile that shifted something deep inside of him.

  Completely.

  Mine, was all he could think as he looked at her. His heart thundered in his chest. His pulse at his ears.

  Mine?

  “Do you think it will hold me?” she asked, moving her eyes upward to where the hammock was adjusted to the deck, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the line of her delicate neck. His mouth watered to taste and kiss. “Bryan?”

  “What?” He tried to pay attention to what she was saying, but whatever shifted inside of him made it hard to keep his focus. Mine.

  “Are you okay? Did you drink enough water?” she asked with obvious concern on her face. She too
k a step toward him, her hands letting go of the woven mesh of the hammock. “It was too hot. Let me get you some more—” She walked past him, but he stopped her, grabbing her by the waist. Her words stopped when their chests touched. “What’s—”

  He didn’t think twice. Mine.

  His lips fell onto hers and he relished at the way her eyes closed gently. Her hands moved behind him without hesitation, and he silently prayed she wouldn’t push him away.

  She didn’t.

  She pulled him closer.

  One of her hands landed on his shoulder, the other tangled in his hair. He had thought he would get a haircut on a day off, but the feel of her hands in his hair, pulling at his scalp, felt damn good. Hell, he might not ever cut his hair again.

  His tongue slipped into her mouth, dueling with hers. His hands moved to the sides of her beautiful face, tilting her to the perfect angle. And she let him.

  “Val,” he breathed, his lips moving from hers and down to her jaw.

  “Please.”

  “Please what, baby?”

  “I... I don’t know... I...” Her words came out choppily and in a breathy whisper. A moan that he felt in his dick escaped from her lips the moment he licked and nipped at her neck. “That feels so good.”

  “Keep talking to me,” he ordered.

  Fuck, she tastes good. Her skin was soft and sweet and a little salty from her sweat, but fuck him, he had never tasted anything as good as her. He breathed heavily, nuzzling her ear.

  “We should stop,” his voice rumbled, shocking the shit out of him. What am I doing? His hardened dick complained.

  “Why?” she asked, her own mouth touching his neck, and he groaned. “God, I love when you make that sound,” she moaned, and whatever blood he had left in his body rushed southbound.

  “Go out with me tomorrow night,” he told her, just as her teeth scraped the spot where his neck and shoulder met. He’d been kissed there before, but her lips, her teeth, her tongue made his body come alive in a way it had never done so before. His hands had left her face and were now gripping her hips tightly. “Go out with me tomorrow,” he repeated for some reason.

  “Okay,” she agreed, and his lips twitched.

  “A date,” he made sure to clarify so there would be no misunderstanding about what he wanted.

  He shouldn’t want it.

  He should be the good guy.

  The right kind of guy, knowing what he did about himself, would let her go. Wouldn’t let himself get tangled up with another woman.

  Especially not her.

  She deserved more than he could give her. You could give her everything, a voice in his head whispered, and he shook it, stepping away from her and his invasive thoughts.

  He watched her open her dewy green eyes slowly and blink. Her fingers came up to touch her lips as if in a daze. I know how you feel, baby, he wanted to tell her.

  “Okay,” she whispered under the moonlight, the waves crashing onto the shore in the distance, and he was sure he had never heard a better sound.

  “Okay?” He cleared his throat, his hand tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, needing to touch her, so they stayed there.

  “I’ll go on a date with you.” A strange peace fell over him at her words.

  I can try. Something inside of him, deep in his gut, knew that he should try. That this beautiful woman in front of him was different. Just like he knew that if he didn’t try and get in there, and he wasn’t only talking about getting into her panties, he would regret it. He would regret it more than he did the mess of his marriage. How he knew that was beyond him.

  But he was man enough and grown enough to know and admit it.

  He would just have to find a way to tell her what no one but Courtney knew about him.

  He had to, because Valerie Duncan was his.

  VALERIE

  I had no idea what I was doing, agreeing to go out on a date with him, but before I could talk myself out of it, he spoke.

  “Good. We should get some sleep,” he ordered, and damn if I wasn’t a little crazy, but I liked when he was a little bossy. I’m a freak!

  “You really think this thing will hold me?” I asked him, looking at the hammock and wondering if I should search for a sleeping bag in the garage instead.

  “It could hold both of us.” His suggestion surprised me almost as much as the feel of his body flushed up against mine did. He had moved from his spot on the patio by the door, and now his hard front was pressed close to my back, a very nice and noticeable hard bulge between us.

  “Are you teasing me?” I whispered into the darkness without thinking, letting myself be vulnerable to him.

  “Why?” he asked, gently kissing my shoulder. My body trembled under his touch.

  “All this hot and cold stuff can make a girl a little dizzy, handsome,” I confided, letting myself show more vulnerability and weakness than I had in a very long time.

  “Blondie, this is only kindling to the fire,” he hoarsely whispered. My eyes shut tightly, wondering if it was a promise or a warning.

  God, I hope it is a promise.

  Even if Bryan was frighteningly out of my league, I wanted him more than my next breath. I’d made a decision this last week. He was all I could think about. That and the reminder that life was too short, one that working in the ER showed me time and time again. As long as I jumped into whatever this was with open eyes, I could enjoy the ride. Figuratively and literally.

  “I wish I knew what dirty thoughts are running through your mind right now.”

  “How do you know they’re dirty?”

  “You’re blushing,” he answered, tenderly placing a kiss at my temple. It was something so sweet and kind that it made me take a step back. I was ready for a fling, but kisses like that could make it hard to remember that’s all it was supposed to be.

  “Bry—”

  “Sleep. We have a date tomorrow.”

  “What if—” Am I actually going to suggest that we get it on? On a hammock? Outdoors?

  “You’re not ready,” he cut me off, and I just looked at his masculine face. “And as much as I want the taste of you on my tongue, I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you.”

  I turned with a scowl on my face. “But teasing me into a puddle of goo is okay?”

  A confident, high-voltage smile that showed off his perfect straight Colgate teeth made the scowl on my face fade. “Anticipation, Blondie.” With a wink, he got into the hammock, his arms stretching the material. “Grab the throw blanket and come on.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was the salt air breezing through us, my skin finally cooling down from the suffocating heat I had woken up to, or the lack of sleep after working back-to-back shifts so I could avoid being around him; but whatever it was made me just follow Bryan’s bossy orders.

  Grabbing the soft throw blanket, I got into the hammock carefully, deathly afraid it was going to come crashing down, but it didn’t.

  Settling in, his arms around my shoulders, my face on his bare chest, we got comfortable. I guess I’m not the only one who is handy, I thought to myself. The hammock gently swayed back and forth. Curiously, being all cozied up next to him felt better than I had been daydreaming the last week. His fingers played with the tips of my hair, and my hand wrapped around his waist with an odd familiarity.

  If I believed in reincarnation, I could have sworn that in a past life somehow, someway, we had shared countless moments just like this.

  The comfort mixed with finally cooling down crashed and swirled with the fatigue and lack of sleep of the past week. Relaxing my body further. Before I knew it, I feel asleep to the hushed thump of his heart.

  ***

  My eyes opened slowly, a breeze in the air, my body curled deeper into the hard warmth in front of me. Bryan, my mind reminded me. Opening my eyes fully, I appreciated the view of his slightly tan skin, the just-perfect-amount of dark coarse hair spattering his chest and trailing down and over his defined abs and eve
n lower below the grey waistband of his boxer briefs. In a sleep-induced fog, I let my hands roam. My fingers traced his abs. I watched the muscles contract beneath my touch. Blaming it on my still sleepy state, I let my head lift slightly, then my mouth touched the warm skin over his heart and I swiped his nipple with my tongue. Before I could do anything else, he magically rolled us over until his body hovered over mine.

  “Good morning,” I whispered, smiling brightly up at him. His pale eyes were hot and hungry.

  “I—” He didn’t say anything else, because his phone started to go off. I sighed. What was it about us always being interrupted?

  “You should get that,” I whispered, the moment broken.

  “I should,” he breathed out hoarsely.

  Our lips hovered over one another’s, and I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it more than my next breath. But he didn’t. Instead, he gracefully rolled out of the hammock, then looked at his phone and scowled.

  “This better fucking be good, Thorne,” he growled. His eyes pulled away from me, but I couldn’t get myself to look away. I watched as he ran his fingers through his sexy, disheveled dark hair. “Yeah. No, I get it. I’ll see you there,” he spoke into his phone.

  He was leaving. Why was I even surprised? Why did I feel so sad about it? You know why.

  Shaking my head, I stood up. I took my hair out of the braid that had mostly come out during sleep and pulled it up into a clean, tight ponytail. This was my life. Just another example of something I couldn’t have. He was not the kind of guy I could ever think or even let myself daydream about having. Even for a fling.

  Swallowing hard, trying to take away the bad taste that the reminder of him being way too good for me left, I raised an eyebrow, making sure to give him attitude. “Someone bite the dust?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Something like that.” His eyes were pinned to his phone, his thumbs working overtime, and I didn’t like not having his attention. “Look, I’ll call an HVAC guy, see when we can get him here.”

  “Okay.” The reminder of the AC being on the fritz made my eye twitch. The heat the night before had been bad, and even though we lived by the beach, it could still get stuffy.