“Liar.” She brushed a kiss over his mouth.
“Careful, or Aunt Cathy’s going to have more than making out to complain about.”
She grinned and he went back to fixing the steps.
She wasn’t wrong. He took care of everyone. If anyone in his family had a problem he was there, handling it so they didn’t have to.
But who took care of him?
I could. The thought whispered through her mind, startling her. She wasn’t a caregiver. Not like he was. Shane deserved a woman who’d make him a home. A woman who’d fuss over him. Cook him dinner and harp on him about eating. He deserved someone who’d nurture him for a change.
She wasn’t that kind of woman.
But still, she couldn’t stop the fantasy that she could be that person. Not the homemaker, per se, but the person Shane needed. Deserved. It was bright and crystal clear in her mind. Alive and vivid, fitting like a missing puzzle piece inside her.
She wanted it. Wanted that life she could sense with Shane.
And today, she felt brave enough to reach out and touch it.
To believe in the possibility that it could be real.
Chapter Twenty-One
Later that Saturday afternoon, Cecilia looked out the window of their car as they drove down the interstate, watching the dense outer suburbs, with their overdeveloped strip malls and super centers, give way to flat farmland.
In silence, Shane drove beside her, both of them content not to speak. It was nice. Perfect, like nothing she’d ever had before in a relationship and it unraveled the tension inside her.
She’d been thinking all afternoon, coming to grips with the truth. All this time, all these years, she’d been lying to herself. Holding on to the dreams she’d created as a child with such single-minded focus, she’d never realized she’d outgrown them along the way.
She may as well have been saying she wanted to be a fairy princess.
The weight, sitting heavy on her chest, lifted and she knew what she had to do.
She was going to put an end to her fake engagement. All she needed to do was figure out how. And she thought she finally had a real idea of what she might do with her life. She’d been thinking about what she was good at, what she actually enjoyed about her job. Some might call her crazy, but she loved cleaning up the messes; it gave her a perverse thrill to take something that seemed unfixable and spin it into salvageable.
How many times had she done that for her father? For his colleagues? Why couldn’t she make her living doing that? Hell, there was a plentiful market for damage control; she had tons of connections, and the thought actually excited her instead of filling her with dread.
As soon as she worked out all the pieces, she’d tell Shane and see what happened. Because she didn’t know what their future held. All she knew was he filled an empty space inside her, and the more time that passed the more she didn’t want to be without him.
Did he feel the same way? She thought he might, but they’d spent so much time carefully avoiding any talk about their future, their feelings, and what was happening between them, she wasn’t sure.
Out of the corner of her eye, she scoped him out, blond, relaxed, and gorgeous behind the wheel. He wore a navy T-shirt that strained around his biceps, and she followed the lines of his arm, the tanned skin and veins running the length of his forearm. The light dusting of golden hair, his strong wrists and the talented fingers that made her feel protected. Would he want someone like her?
He glanced over at her. “I can feel you thinking.”
She bit her lower lip. He always did that. So carefully in tune with her—her likes and dislikes, her wants and desires, her moods. She’d never had that before. It made her feel . . . cared for. Like she mattered. She twisted in her seat, resting her back against the door so she could look at him more directly. She’d intended to say something light, unwilling to risk a topic she wasn’t ready to talk about yet, so the question that popped out of her mouth surprised her. “Why do you feel guilty about your success?”
“I don’t.” The answer quick and sharp, like a right jab.
“Yes, you do. It’s like you think you’ve got to apologize for it.”
“I don’t. I just don’t see the point in making a big deal about it. It wasn’t a thought-out plan.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Of course it was. You plan and take care of everything. That’s your nature.”
His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, turning white. “That’s not nature, it’s necessity. If my dad hadn’t died, I’d be a slacker, probably working some odd job, living paycheck to paycheck.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Well, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She touched his thigh and spoke softly. “You don’t have anything to feel guilty about, Shane. What you’ve done is remarkable.”
The muscles under her palm tensed. “Doesn’t change the fact that I would have been a thug if I had the choice.”
“I doubt that, but even if it’s true, so what? That’s not what happened.”
He frowned. “I hate knowing he had to die in order for me to become a good man.”
Ah. There was the crux of the problem.
She shifted in the bucket seat. “You’re right, if your dad hadn’t died, you would have been a different person. Maybe you’d be poor. Or a slacker. Or maybe you’d be an accountant.”
He gave her a sharp look of disapproval and she laughed before putting her head on his shoulder. “What I do know is that regardless of what you would have become, you would have been a good man.”
“You don’t know that,” he said, tone stubborn and absolute.
“The other night, when the girls were over at Gracie’s house, Maddie kept telling stories about you.” Her future sister-in-law had tried to be subtle, but Cecilia recognized the hard sell when she saw it. Not that it had been necessary. She was already hooked on his virtues, as well as his more devious qualities. “Maddie told a story about some party she went to in high school where she got a little rowdy and picked a fight with the wrong guy. Do you remember that?”
The muscles under his shoulder flexed and rippled before settling again. “Yeah, I got a call from James that she was in trouble, which at the time was pretty much par for the course.”
“She said you rescued her, then knocked the guy out cold.”
He chuckled, clearly a fond memory. “He didn’t make that mistake again.”
“She also said you climbed up a tree and rescued her cat, Fluffy. Kicked a bunch of guys’ asses for messing with James. Stole evidence from Sister Margaret’s office so Maddie wouldn’t get in trouble for some graffiti she’d drawn. And took the rap for Evan when he pulled the fire alarm so he wouldn’t get thrown off the football team.” She glanced at him. “Is that all true?”
He scowled. “Maddie talks too much.”
Cecilia smiled, shifting to rest against his shoulder again. “But you’re smart enough to get my point.”
He sighed, the long, heavy sound of a man who knows he lost an argument. “Only because you used a sledgehammer to make it.”
She laughed. “I use the tools necessary to get the job done.”
Later that night, back at the farmhouse, everyone sat around the poker table while Shane shuffled the deck of cards. Money exchanged, chips in a neat stack, he nodded at Cecilia sitting across from him. “Do you know how to play?”
She shot him a scornful look. “Of course.”
His lips quivered. “How the hell should I know? You don’t look like a card player.”
Cecilia rolled her eyes and grabbed a cherry Tootsie Roll Pop from the pile next to Sophie and unwrapped it with a nonchalant shrug of her bare shoulder. “I’m okay.”
Ha. He knew right then she was a shark. He narrowed his gaze, appreciating the swell of her breasts in her red tank top. The way her hair brushed her shoulders in loose waves. “Hmmm.”
“Just dea
l, for fuck’s sake,” Mitch said.
Shane ignored him and continued to watch Cecilia.
She smiled back sweetly before licking the red candy with the tip of her pink tongue.
He lost his train of thought, his hands stilling on the playing cards.
“We can’t possibly be this annoying,” Mitch said to Maddie.
Maddie shook her head. “No way.”
Sophie clucked her tongue. “Yes, way.”
Penelope poked him in the arm. “You need to shuffle.”
Gaze glued to the woman across the table, he split the deck into two piles.
Cecilia sucked the red lollipop between those porn-star lips of hers, distracting him as she twirled it in her mouth, reminding him of the way she sucked cock.
He fumbled the cards and they flew in a haphazard heap on the green felt table in front of him.
She pulled the candy like a slow tease from her mouth, swirling her now-bright-red tongue, and raising a brow. “Problem?”
Little temptress. How exactly was he going to get her back? “Nope.”
She glanced pointedly at the cards. “Are you going to deal? Or just sit there?”
Oh, wasn’t she just asking for it? Of course, to deliver he needed blood back in his brain, which was proving quite difficult.
Since the second they got back, they’d been surrounded by people, and he hadn’t been able to touch her all day. He frowned. Did he really have it that bad? Surely he could go ten hours without having her.
Her tongue slid lazily over the round, red tip and his cock hardened to the point of pain.
Well, shit. That’s exactly how it was.
Penelope lost patience and sighed, gathering up the cards for him.
The sucker slipped between Cecilia’s lips. Jesus.
He dragged a hand through his hair and took the deck back from Penelope. “I can do it.”
“Can you?” Penelope asked, the sarcasm clear in her tone.
Sure he could. Cecilia puckered her lips, placed the rounded tip of the lollipop between her pursed lips and twirled it in a slow circle.
He snapped. “Would you stop that?”
She removed the sucker and held it elegantly between her thumb and forefinger. Lips stained an obscene pink that made his breath catch, she asked, “Stop what?”
“Mouth-fucking the sucker. It’s distracting.”
Maddie, Sophie, and Penelope all gasped. “Shane!”
Gracie, Charlie, and Sam laughed.
Mitch groaned.
Cecilia, however, remained perfectly composed, not even having the decency to blush. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But if you’re distracted, that’s your problem.”
She twirled the lollipop again, gently pushing it between her lips and then retreating. “I’m here to play cards.”
Charlie gave Cecilia a long, slow once-over that had possession thumping through Shane’s chest. “I’ve got to side with Shane here, it’s pretty damn distracting.”
Shane narrowed his gaze. “Don’t look at her mouth.”
Charlie shrugged. “Sorry, man, she’s got a hot mouth.”
Smile pure sin, Cecilia tilted her head. “That’s very sweet of you, Charlie.”
Sweet? It wasn’t sweet. Shane growled. “Eat it normal.”
“I am.” She licked. “You just have a dirty mind.”
Of course he did, as she well knew. But hell, even if he didn’t, he’d have to be a dead man to not have illicit thoughts.
He started to speak but Mitch cut him off. “Deal the fucking cards.”
Shane cocked a brow at her.
She smiled back.
He dealt while she ate her lollipop as though she was auditioning for Lolita.
Thirty minutes later, he was twenty dollars poorer and Cecilia, with her red-stained lips, had a big pile of chips stacked in front of her.
Gracie pointed at her. “You’re no fun to play with.”
Cecilia clucked. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
Gracie stuck her tongue out.
Cecilia laughed.
Sophie lifted one of the suckers sitting on the table. “What’s in these things? Magic?”
“I’ll be right back.” Cecilia met Shane’s eyes, smiled, then rose to her feet with the grace that bespoke of her years of dance training.
Shane’s gaze raked over her. The jean skirt she wore was so short it barely hit the curve of her thighs. Where had that outfit even come from? Because there’s no way the Cecilia that showed up that day in the kitchen owned that outfit. “Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” she tossed over her shoulder while she sashayed down the hall.
Everyone looked at him expectantly and when he said nothing, Gracie asked, “All right, what did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Shane said, grinning despite himself. Little vixen. They were right; he was responsible. Obsessed with exploring how far he could take her, he’d grown increasingly depraved.
“Yes, you did,” Gracie said, shaking her head. “She ate three cupcakes and didn’t even ask how many calories are in them.”
Cecilia was becoming a sugar fiend, and it put a nice curve to her body. And he wanted to eat her up constantly. “Yeah, so?”
Sophie jumped in helpfully. “Then there was the lollipop.”
Sam rubbed a hand over his jaw. “It was like watching porn.”
Yeah, it was. Excellent porn. And suddenly he couldn’t wait a second longer. “I’ll be right back.”
To a myriad of groans, he stood, racing out of the room to find his wayward temptress.
Cecilia put her ear to the bathroom door and listened, waiting for the heavy fall of Shane’s footsteps.
She’d given quite a performance, practically daring him outright. He wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge and he was bound to follow her.
Her nipples hardened and her clit throbbed.
Jesus, she wanted him.
He’d been driving her crazy all day. Hot, smoldering glances. The stroke of his finger down her bare arm. A squeeze on her hip. Lingering looks at her mouth.
She was on fire. And she couldn’t wait any longer.
Boots treaded down the hall, and she flicked off the faucet she’d left running, opening the door with perfect timing to smack right into him.
He growled. Hands on her hips, he backed her into the bathroom and kicked the door shut with a hard slam that sent a jolt of excitement racing through her.
“Shane,” she said, her voice too breathless to be innocent.
He answered by pulling her tight against his body, fisting her hair and slamming his mouth onto hers.
She melted in an instant.
Lips demanding, he claimed her in an intense rush of lust that left her dizzy.
She rubbed her breasts against his chest, meeting his seeking tongue with her own.
Instantly hot.
Instantly wet.
Instantly throbbing with insatiable need.
She clung to his mouth, digging her nails into his shoulders as he kissed her so raw and dirty he may as well have been inside her.
He pulled away, cupping her breast and stroking his thumb over the nipple. “Having fun, Lolita?”
Breathless, she panted, “Yes, take me.”
His green eyes flashed, and he wrapped his fingers around her throat. He nipped at her bottom lip. “You have everyone fooled, don’t you? You’re not proper at all.”
Desperate, she reached for the button on his jeans. “Not since I met you.”
He consumed her with another heart-stopping kiss, his thumb pressing into her wildly pounding pulse.
She lowered his zipper, worked her way past the elastic band of his boxer briefs to wrap her fingers around his shaft.
He groaned against her mouth. “Cecilia. Fuck. So damn good.”
It was powerful, the knowledge that this man wanted her. Was as crazy for her as she was for him.
She stroked, her grip tigh
t and sure. Not at all gentle. The way she knew he liked best.
He circled her nipples through the thin fabric, raising them to a near painful peak.
She squeezed his cock. “I need you, now.”
The statement was like striking a match. He groaned, turned her around until she faced the mirror. Their eyes met, and he yanked her skirt over her hips, tearing her panties. They fell to a heap on the floor. He put a palm on her back, pushing her forward until her clit was pressed up against the porcelain sink.
In the vanity mirror, their gazes locked.
“I want to come inside you.” The tone of his voice rough, fissioning through her nerve endings.
They’d used condoms. Always. But suddenly she needed it. Needed him. “Yes.”
“Are you protected?”
With a sharp nod, she lifted her hips in invitation.
His gaze turned utterly feral. He bent, covering her back with his big body, and grasped her throat. The image in the mirror hypnotic, so arousing, she jerked. Her clit rubbed against the now-slick porcelain. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, while his eyes stayed hot on hers. “Good. It’d be hell to stop and I need it, Cecilia. Need to feel your hot, wet pussy on my cock.”
Her inner muscles contracted at his words, wanting to be filled. As always, he read her mind and guided himself in.
Swollen from all the sex they’d had last night, the angle made her impossibly tight. Stretched. She spread her legs, rising to her tiptoes, dropping her head until he was fully seated.
He gathered her hair in his fist and pulled. “Watch.”
Her eyes flicked open as her muscles rippled around him.
Expression flashing with primal male satisfaction, he bit down on the curve of her neck, sending a shock wave through her body. “I knew you’d like that.”
He pushed into her. So slow, when she wanted him to go fast. She threw her hips back, trying to control the tempo.
But he was having none of that.
He shook his head. “No, my way.” His lids hooded as he placed one big hand on her hip, slowing her down.
He thrust back in, demonstrating complete mastery in even strokes. His shaft dragged across engorged tissue, enflaming every nerve she had, lighting her on fire. Building a tension so deep in her core she thought she might die with the sheer torture.
The Winner Takes It All Page 24