watched as she shook her long fall of wavy hair back. The bright purple seeming ethereal and mysterious in the fading light.
What was going on with him? Purple hair wasn’t sexy. Full-sleeve tattoos weren’t sexy.
Except that on her, it was.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets as she looked him over. Those blue eyes of hers seemed almost to glow, full of wicked intent as she took her time regarding him from head to toe.
His body responded, dark need curling tightly in his gut. No, he had no idea why he wanted this woman so badly, but he did, wanted her with a craving that seemed primal in its intensity.
“I’d invite you back to my place, but I could tell this morning it wasn’t exactly your cup of tea.” She smirked at him, a knowing little smile that made his mouth water. She was provoking him deliberately.
That exchange they’d had earlier in the garage. The dynamic between them. Unless he’d read it very, very wrong, she wanted the very thing that he tried hard not to offer.
“Clearly you didn’t think I was serious about finding something better for your smart mouth to do.” He couldn’t help it. The needs that he was usually fine ignoring were clawing beneath his skin, begging to tear their way free to be with her.
The sharp inhalation of her breath was confirmation. An ache spread through his core.
Nice men don’t want this.
Then maybe he wasn’t a nice man.
“Coming?” Arching an eyebrow at him, Beth turned and started to walk in the direction of the motel. He couldn’t have stopped himself from following.
The small rectangle of parking lot was bordered on three sides with rooms. He’d been assigned to room twelve, and when he’d checked in earlier he’d been unimpressed by the cheap floral bedspread, the rough green carpet and the dated lighting, though at least the place was clean. Now he noticed nothing but Beth as she kicked the door closed behind them, seating herself on the edge of the bed and looking up at him with a hint of mockery in those insanely blue eyes.
He wanted to fist his hands in the long waves of her hair and taste her lips again, to touch her until she was breathless and all traces of that mockery were gone. He wanted to flip her over and bury himself inside her.
He needed to get a grip, needed to take the control back. So far she’d hinted at what she wanted but had been the one in the driver’s seat.
No more.
“Do you like wine?” The hinges on the small minifridge whined as he opened it. Earlier he’d refrigerated a bottle of the best chardonnay he could find at the tiny grocery store on the corner. He was stymied when he realized that he didn’t have a corkscrew.
Frustration mounted. He was supposed to be in charge here. Why couldn’t he grab hold of it?
“Need this?” Not bothering to hide her grin at his discomfort, Beth opened the bedside drawer. There, next to a worn copy of the Bible, was a waiter’s corkscrew.
“Spend much time here?” He held back a growl of frustration as he took the offered tool, expertly pulling the cork from the bottle of wine. There were so many feelings, so many sensations pressing on his chest from the inside out that he couldn’t even raise an eyebrow at the fact that he was pouring the pricey wine into water glasses.
“I’ve been here before, yes.” Beth took the glass from his hand. Lifting it to her nose, she inhaled, then looked up at him. “And probably for exactly the reason you’re thinking. Does that bother you?”
Did it bother him? The idea of her with other men?
He wanted her, but he didn’t know her. He shouldn’t care what she’d done before.
He didn’t care for the thought of other men touching her when his own cock was aching to be between her soft thighs.
“Drink your wine.” Deliberately, he refrained from answering her question. Crossing in front of her, he watched as she took a sip, puzzled by the expression that crossed her lips after she’d sipped. “What is it?”
“I’m more of a beer girl.” Lips twitching, she set the glass aside. Then she crawled to her knees on the bed, making herself right at home. Rising so that she was almost at eye level with him, she looped her arms around his neck and ran her tongue over her lips. “But I’m not here for a drink.”
“What are you here for, then?” Reaching behind his head, he caught her hands in his own, holding her there. He countered her direct stare with one of his own, triumph surging when she broke, looking away first.
“Well, Sir Lassiter.” Licking her lips again, she tried to pull back, her breath catching when he held tight, keeping her in place, her breasts almost brushing across his chest. “I think we’ve established that there’s chemistry here. I’m here to see what you want to do about it.”
His control snapped, the last whisper of wariness evaporating in a sizzle of flame. Sir. That mocking mouth, calling him sir.
He didn’t want to analyze why he wanted her or why he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to hold back.
“I—” Still, the words stuck in his throat, even as his hands slid along her upper arms, over her back, tracing a line down her spine.
“I think you told me you had something for my smart mouth to do.” Arching into his touch like a kitten in the sun, she fisted her hands in the hem of her top, lifting it up and over her head. He broke his hold long enough for her to toss it to the ground, then groaned when he saw what had been hiding beneath.
Her breasts were perfect. A little more than a handful, soft globes that sat high on her slender torso. The bra she wore was black lace, a pattern that let him clearly see the outline of full pink nipples beneath. One was pierced through with a small silver bar, and the sight of that naughty bit of jewelry, rubbing against the lace, was sexy as hell.
He wanted to place his cock between those sweet curves and let go.
Real men didn’t do that.
She noticed his hesitation. Making a sound somewhere between a hum and a sigh, she cupped his cheeks in her hands, forcing him to look right at her.
Like he could look anywhere else.
“Look.” Her eyes searched his face, and there wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in the blue depths. “I’m here because I’m pretty sure that we want the same thing—a night of incredibly hot sex. Dirty sex. Why don’t you stop thinking so hard and just let go?”
God, she was demanding. He didn’t usually like that, either, but at her words, something inside him surged to life—all of the wants that he usually kept buried down deep.
She had made it clear that this was what she wanted. What would the harm be in letting himself revel in it for just one night?
“This mouth of yours.” Dipping his head again, he brushed his lips over hers, taking the kiss deep fast. His tongue probed at the seam of her lips, and she opened for him, humming with approval as he stroked it over hers. “I think I had something for it to do.”
