Just Once More.... Mira Lyn Kelly

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Just Once More... - Mira Lyn Kelly Mills & Boon By Request

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got.”

      Her expression cleared and she was leaning toward him then, the blanket draping more provocatively than she could have realized, based on the shy way she’d been covering up just moments before. He tried not to let his eye linger on the seductive gaps and tantalizing glimpses of the flesh he’d had full access to and could still feel beneath his fingers and lips, but were now completely off-limits. Round. Soft. Succulent. The kind of tempting swells that begged to be nipped and nibbled. Licked and suckled.

      The sound of a throat clearing in a pointed, eyes-up-here-mister kind of way had Garrett yanked out of that land of forbidden territory and rubbing a hand along the tightening muscles of his neck.

      “Okay, I know you’re freaking out a little right now.”

      The hand stilled as he arched a brow at the woman who’d just uttered the impossible. “Excuse me?”

      Those bare shoulders were pulled up into a delicate shrug as she waved a hand around in his direction. “But you honestly don’t need to be. I didn’t have any misconceptions about what was happening tonight. Where it could go or what it could mean. Really.

      Uh-huh. “You don’t need to pretend with me, Nikki. I think we both know—”

      “No, Garrett. I don’t know what you think you know about me. But—”

      “I know it’s been three years. And before that dry spell you’d gone out with precisely two guys. Both of whom you ended up engaged to. So I’d say, yeah, you probably were serious.” Too serious for a guy like him.

      “So, I’m going to pretend it doesn’t creep me out that you know that. And I’ll wait until you leave to have my discussion with your sister about privacy, trust and boundaries—”

      Oh, man. This was going downhill fast. Holding out a staying hand, he tried not to get caught up in all the ways the bit of red rushing to the skin at Nichole’s neck and shoulders was different than what he’d sampled earlier.

      “What?” she snapped.

      “Don’t get pissed at Maeve about this.” And already with the complications a simple exchange of names might have avoided. “Please. She was just giving me some reassurance about the crowd she hung around with. Making sure I knew you weren’t trouble. That you were … you know … into commitment … a ‘nice girl.’“ There was something about the slow upward push of her brows that warned of danger, had him backtracking as he tried another tack. “Not that I don’t think you’re nice now.”

      “You should probably just stop, Garrett.”

      Yeah, he probably should. Get out of there and get started on figuring out what it was going to take to appease his little sister when she found out he’d gotten her into hot water with her closest girlfriend. Only the way things were right now—hell, less than a single night and already he felt the press of new responsibility settling on his shoulders—he needed to know she was okay.

      She’d trusted him. Let him into her bed. “Nikki—”

      “Here’s the thing.” Shaking her head, Nichole tucked a wild curl neatly behind her ear. “Tonight was an accident. An error in judgment on both our parts. So why don’t we both agree to put it behind us? I mean, it’s not like we’ve been tripping over each other these last few years. I’m guessing it’s a pretty safe bet our paths won’t cross again anytime soon. And, believe me, I’m okay with that. This wasn’t supposed to be more than a single night anyway.”

      He blinked. No way. She was just being tough to protect her pride.

      Except those almond eyes were steady, clear as they held his. And wasn’t that an ironic twist? The first woman he’d pursued with the intent of having something “more” didn’t see him as anything more than the kind of one-night stand he’d been ready to leave behind.

      It shouldn’t have rubbed—but, man.

      Shaking it off, because he knew it was for the best, Garrett nodded his acceptance. Walked back to the bed and, catching the soft line of her jaw in his palm, tipped her face to drop a kiss at her temple. “I’m sorry about this, Nikki.”

      She blinked at him, the corner of her mouth tipping the barest amount. “Don’t be. I’m not.”

      Two hours later and Nichole had given up on the idea of sleep altogether. And if ever there was a time for a BFF to step up it was after she’d been busted selling out the details of her friend’s nonexistent sex-life to The Panty Whisperer. Which was why Nichole was parked in front of her laptop, staring down the video feed as—across the country—Maeve paced in a knee length T-shirt in front of her own laptop.

      “It’s not like I was detailing the chronicles of your personal Red Shoe Diaries on Twitter, for God’s sake.”

      Nichole balled her hands on her hips, glaring through cyberspace as she waited Maeve out.

      It didn’t take long before her friend gave under the pressure, her entire form signaling defeat as the arms crossed defiantly over her chest went spaghetti-loose along with the rest of her body and she spilled into the couch behind her. “Okay, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have told anyone about your personal business and I don’t even know why exactly I did—except Garrett isn’t like a real person. He’s just got this knack for extracting information from people. He’s patient. Unrelenting. And when he wants to know something … nothing gets in his way.”

      This she’d heard before. But it didn’t change one simple fact. “My sexual experience is none of his business.” None.

      God, the way he’d looked at her so apologetically as he’d nailed her with the “commitment” tag and “nice girl” nonsense. This guy she’d brought home without even knowing his name had wrapped her up in all the labels she’d spent three years trying to shed. She wasn’t looking to get married. Didn’t want—anything. Especially not from him, and so it didn’t matter what he thought.

      With that reminder, Nichole blew out a stiff breath. Sliding the arm flung across her eyes up to her brow, Maeve frowned at her. “I know. I know. And I really am sorry. But now that you’ve met him, how can you even wonder about his ability to get what he wants?”

      Nichole shook her head. “The guy lives in town. If he’s so worried about your lifestyle why doesn’t he meet your friends?”

      Maeve stared up at the ceiling. “When it comes to my dates, given the opportunity, you better believe he’s all over them. But girlfriends not so much. You know that saying about having to beat women off with a stick? That’s what it was like for him with Bethany’s, Carla’s and Erin’s friends. Mine to a lesser extent. But he avoids our girlfriends pretty much like the plague. Besides, the last few years he’s been so tied up with building the company and working to get his degree there hasn’t been a whole lot of time for anything else. I barely see him.”

      Nichole blinked as another piece of the puzzle fell into place. She’d forgotten about the school thing. A detail Maeve had shared with her. Garrett had put all of his sisters through school and only started himself when everyone else had been paid for and finished.

      “So that’s what he meant by saying he was trying to get back to living a little.”

      Maeve, casting all dramatics aside, sat upright, leaning forward.

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