on top and drag him deeper.
She leaned in, grazing his back with her breasts, and nuzzled his ear. “This, I’m grabbing just for me.” Letting go far too soon, she sauntered back into the light. “Oh, shoot, there they are. Sorry about the wait, Mrs. Baxter. Dad must’ve moved your order under the counter when he called you.”
Sneaky temptress. Her entire purpose for stepping into the back room had been to tease him. Fuck, she was a bold one. Liked danger and thrill-seeking. His risky dinner scenario sure had made her come hard. And sweet.
His woman demanded an equal, one who’d meet her fire with his own. He’d be a better man with her. For her, because she deserved better. Not Brian the class clown, not Brian the fuck-up, and not coasting-through-life Brian. Standing alongside Katherine, he’d plant his feet and be the man she needed. Once he convinced her she needed him.
He flipped around, quiet-like, and rested his back on the wall. Rock-hard and stuck eavesdropping, he filtered out the customer’s gabbing in favor of the rise and fall of Kit’s voice in reply. She’d called him good when he’d been establishing his bad-boy credibility. Had that been compliment or complaint? Taking her up on her dare might’ve been the wrong move, but Christ, he couldn’t regret it and he wouldn’t take back a second. Scrubbing his face in his palms, he inhaled her lingering scent.
The cash register rattled out front, the drawer slamming as the women exchanged goodbyes. The bell over the door chimed. A trash liner rustled. He waited for her shadow in the doorway. Three Mississippis.
“All clear.” Kit let out a sly laugh. “You waiting for me to come back there and frisk you?”
“Praying to the wall god for mercy.” If winning her dare had been about getting something in return, then more time with her was the prize he’d claim. His dick would hold off until they’d straightened out her soon-to-be-gone no-dating rule.
As he entered the main shop, the bright lights wiped out his night vision. Kit wandered to and fro with a fuzzy outline, and his eyes carried her hazy afterimage everywhere he looked. No different from the way his mind had kept dragging her into view all weekend. “Thought that lady would never leave.”
She stopped her flitting. Back to him, she stood stiff as a slick-sleeve at her first inspection with her proud chin raised. “Everyone has to leave sometime.”
Son of a fucking bitch. He’d gotten warmer send-offs from women shoving his clothes into his arms while they pushed him out the door.
“Uh-huh. Until we meet again.” With a shot of deep-breath courage, he pumped false cheer over his fears. She’d liked his style, dammit. If she wanted to throw him out now, he’d reached her deeper than she’d wanted. A step in the right direction, by his measure. “Say, Friday night?”
As she turned her head, her eyes fluttered shut and a there-and-gone smile touched her lips. “You really don’t give up, do you?”
“Not on you.” He’d forever believed a long-term relationship would be too confining. The death of sex arrived around the three- or six-month mark—no point hanging in for that. Short-term worked better. Except Rob was obviously still getting plenty with Nora, and Kit wanted plenty, so plenty-wanting women existed and long-term relationships worked, and they’d damn well figure one out together. “The fooling around was good, right? The date will be, too.”
“Brian, I can’t—” Fingers clenched back, she rubbed her palm on the side of her jeans. “I’m not going to dinner with you.”
“Why not?” With them, sex was a given. The tightness in his chest came from fear of missing out on building that meaningful partnership with the woman who challenged and inspired him.
“You know why not.” For a half-second, she met his gaze, and her eyes flickered wide and wild. Abandoning her stare, she exposed the graceful curve of her neck and the tightness in
She leaned in, grazing his back with her breasts, and nuzzled his ear. “This, I’m grabbing just for me.” Letting go far too soon, she sauntered back into the light. “Oh, shoot, there they are. Sorry about the wait, Mrs. Baxter. Dad must’ve moved your order under the counter when he called you.”
Sneaky temptress. Her entire purpose for stepping into the back room had been to tease him. Fuck, she was a bold one. Liked danger and thrill-seeking. His risky dinner scenario sure had made her come hard. And sweet.
His woman demanded an equal, one who’d meet her fire with his own. He’d be a better man with her. For her, because she deserved better. Not Brian the class clown, not Brian the fuck-up, and not coasting-through-life Brian. Standing alongside Katherine, he’d plant his feet and be the man she needed. Once he convinced her she needed him.
He flipped around, quiet-like, and rested his back on the wall. Rock-hard and stuck eavesdropping, he filtered out the customer’s gabbing in favor of the rise and fall of Kit’s voice in reply. She’d called him good when he’d been establishing his bad-boy credibility. Had that been compliment or complaint? Taking her up on her dare might’ve been the wrong move, but Christ, he couldn’t regret it and he wouldn’t take back a second. Scrubbing his face in his palms, he inhaled her lingering scent.
The cash register rattled out front, the drawer slamming as the women exchanged goodbyes. The bell over the door chimed. A trash liner rustled. He waited for her shadow in the doorway. Three Mississippis.
“All clear.” Kit let out a sly laugh. “You waiting for me to come back there and frisk you?”
“Praying to the wall god for mercy.” If winning her dare had been about getting something in return, then more time with her was the prize he’d claim. His dick would hold off until they’d straightened out her soon-to-be-gone no-dating rule.
As he entered the main shop, the bright lights wiped out his night vision. Kit wandered to and fro with a fuzzy outline, and his eyes carried her hazy afterimage everywhere he looked. No different from the way his mind had kept dragging her into view all weekend. “Thought that lady would never leave.”
She stopped her flitting. Back to him, she stood stiff as a slick-sleeve at her first inspection with her proud chin raised. “Everyone has to leave sometime.”
Son of a fucking bitch. He’d gotten warmer send-offs from women shoving his clothes into his arms while they pushed him out the door.
“Uh-huh. Until we meet again.” With a shot of deep-breath courage, he pumped false cheer over his fears. She’d liked his style, dammit. If she wanted to throw him out now, he’d reached her deeper than she’d wanted. A step in the right direction, by his measure. “Say, Friday night?”
As she turned her head, her eyes fluttered shut and a there-and-gone smile touched her lips. “You really don’t give up, do you?”
“Not on you.” He’d forever believed a long-term relationship would be too confining. The death of sex arrived around the three- or six-month mark—no point hanging in for that. Short-term worked better. Except Rob was obviously still getting plenty with Nora, and Kit wanted plenty, so plenty-wanting women existed and long-term relationships worked, and they’d damn well figure one out together. “The fooling around was good, right? The date will be, too.”
“Brian, I can’t—” Fingers clenched back, she rubbed her palm on the side of her jeans. “I’m not going to dinner with you.”
“Why not?” With them, sex was a given. The tightness in his chest came from fear of missing out on building that meaningful partnership with the woman who challenged and inspired him.
“You know why not.” For a half-second, she met his gaze, and her eyes flickered wide and wild. Abandoning her stare, she exposed the graceful curve of her neck and the tightness in
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