“You think I wanted to be alone with her?”
“Well, didn’t you?”
“No. I wanted to be alone with you.”
She stared at him with wide eyes and her fist over her heart, apparently dumbfounded.
Shade circled the island’s counter and pulled out a towel to dry off the fruit sitting in the big bowl in the sink. His cleaning lady always stocked his fridge with fresh fruit because she knew how he craved it whenever he was home. He popped a grape into his mouth and tossed Amanda a golden delicious apple. He sang the first line of “Walking on Sunshine’s” chorus.
“Whoa-oh,” Amanda sang.
He repeated his line.
“Whoa-oh-oh,” she sang with even more gusto.
They sang the next line together, grinning at each other like a pair of insane hyenas.
Shade plucked grapes off their stems and tossed them into the bowl while Amanda cut the cores out of several varieties of apples—red, yellow, green—and sliced them. She settled for singing backup while they worked.
He wondered what his fans would say if they heard him singing a girly pop song. His band was known for creating melt-your-face-off metal, but he was having such a good time goofing off with Amanda, he’d risk any public outcry.
Amanda tackled a pair of oranges next, while he removed the greenery from the strawberries. They had enough fruit in the bowl for ten people by the time they finished and had sung the chorus of the same song at least twenty times, but Shade was reluctant to end the easy camaraderie between them and checked the fridge for fruit they might have overlooked. He didn’t get to do this kind of thing often. Especially not with a woman. He had a certain reputation to uphold, but with Amanda, he could let go and just be himself without worrying about what she thought of him. It had always been this way between them. Even when he’d been engaged and married to her sister, if he’d wanted to have a little goofy fun, he’d seek out Amanda’s easy-going companionship.
Something ice-cold blasted him in the back of the neck. He yelled and spun around only to get hit with a stream of water in the face. Brandishing the water sprayer from the island sink, Amanda laughed and sprayed him in the ear.
“Shit, that’s cold,” he protested, covering his ear with one hand and rubbing the liquid out of it.
She made a sad puppy dog face at him, her lower lip protruding in a pout. “Oh, poor baby,” she said and then squirted him at the base of his neck.
“You,” he growled, though he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.
Laughing gleefully, Amanda dashed around the island and when the counter was between them, turned and sprayed him again.
He circled the counter at a run. She squealed and skidded out of reach, squirting water in all directions. The icy liquid caught him on the arm. Despite getting drenched, he didn’t back down, not even when he had her trapped against him and she directed a steady spray of water down both their bellies.
“That’s cold,” she squealed and released the nozzle.
Shade wrested the sprayer out of her hand. “You’re damned right it’s cold.” He held her tightly with one arm and sprayed water down her shirt. Which drew his attention to her now sopping wet breasts, transparent pale pink T-shirt and hard nipples. His body’s reaction was instantaneous. His brain was a few seconds behind.
She yelled, “Cold, cold, cold. Jacob! Stop!”
He dropped the hose and cupped the inviting succulence of one breast in his hand. His thumb brushed the hardened nipple, and she shuddered. There wasn’t enough cold water in the Arctic Ocean to cool the hot lust flooding his groin.
Amanda needed to slap him, and soon, or he was going to do something they’d both regret. She lifted her hand and instead of delivering a stinging palm to his cheek, she pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them across the counter.
Their eyes met. He couldn’t look away. She moved closer. Or he moved closer. He wasn’t sure which. Didn’t care. All he knew was that he had to sample her lips. He’d dreamed of kissing her so many times . . . He wondered if she’d taste as sweet as she looked.
His heart thudded faster and faster as he leaned closer. He hadn’t felt this giddy since his first kiss in junior high school.
His lips were a hair’s breadth from hers when the doorbell rang and he came back to his senses.
“Sorry,” he said and jerked away.
No matter how much he wanted her, Amanda Lange was off limits.
Yeah, tell that to his dick.
Chapter 4Amanda had never wished harm to a pizza delivery person before, but as Jacob stepped away and she was robbed of the heat of his hard body and the scent of his delectable flesh, she started compiling a list of tortures.
Jacob had almost kissed her. Almost. And she could still feel the weight of his hand on her breast. Oh God, she wanted the man. And for about thirty seconds, she’d thought she might actually have her wish fulfilled.
Leaning against the kitchen island for support, she watched him leave the room to answer the door. Why hadn’t she been more aggressive? She should have just grabbed him and kissed him. Made it perfectly clear that she wanted him.
As usual, her tendency to hesitate and think things through left her without the prize she craved. She needed to let loose. Get aggressive. Paw the man like a sex-starved lioness. Yeah, right. Even if she could find the courage to throw caution aside, those kinds of tactics didn’t work with Jacob anyway.
With a sigh, Amanda reached for a towel and began to mop up the water covering the kitchen. It kept her hands occupied so she didn’t start peeling off her clothes so she could wait for him, naked, like the woman he’d ditched earlier. She wouldn’t put herself in a position to be rejected by him. Amanda had felt bad for Veronica—not that she’d wanted Big Boobs Maloney to stick around, not that she wasn’t glad that Jacob had rejected her and taken her home—but Amanda was desperate enough for the man to do something like wait for him naked in a hot tub, so she empathized with the woman.
The smell of pizza accompanied Jacob back into the kitchen. Amanda tossed the wet dishtowel in the sink and turned to face him, pretending she didn’t feel awkward by forcing a smile. “Smells great.”
Avoiding her eyes, he stared over her head as he slid the pizza box onto the still-damp island counter. He was not so good at hiding his own awkwardness. “I guess you decided against the pineapple and anchovies.”
“Yeah, I had that a couple nights ago. Thought I’d mix it up a little.”
He reached for his sunglasses, but she snatched them up before he could get his hand on them. No way was she letting him hide behind them. She didn’t care if it made him uncomfortable to look at her after he’d almost kissed her.
“No sunglasses for you tonight,” she said, stuffing them down the front of her shirt. His gaze landed on her chest and her damp T-shirt. This time when her nipples hardened, it wasn’t from the cold. It was from the heat in his eyes.
“Um.” He jerked his head up and took a step backward. “I’ll get you something dry to put on.”
He fled the room before she could tell him she was more than happy to wear a wet shirt if it made him look at her like that. She sighed, hid his sunglasses in a random drawer and then searched the cabinets for plates. A few minutes later he returned with a bath towel and a button-down man’s flannel shirt. “I figured you were probably cold.”
Oh sure. So she was supposed to wear a big flannel shirt that covered her from neck to knee while she was forced to look at him in his skintight T-shirt that pulled against his well-defined muscles every time he moved? And he expected her not to tackle him to the floor and get her hands on every bulging inch of him? Her eyes dropped to his crotch. Yeah, she especially wanted to get her hands on that particular bulge.
“Thanks,” she managed to say.
She pulled her T-shirt off over her head and reached for the shirt he was holding in her direction. He gaped at her as if he’d never seen a chick in her bra before. As soon as she had his shi
rt in her possession, he spun around and faced the opposite direction.
“Amanda,” he said breathlessly, “what are you doing?”
She smiled, glad he was at least a little flustered. “Putting on your shirt so I don’t catch cold.” She buttoned it to the middle of her chest and then wriggled out of her wet shorts. She tossed them at him, and they smacked him in the back before falling to the floor. “Should I take off my panties too? They’re positively drenched.”
“No!”
She bit her lip to hold in a laugh. Why was he acting so embarrassed? Amanda imagined women threw their panties at him all the time.
“I’m decent,” she told him. Not that she wanted to be.
He took a deep breath and turned to face her, as if dreading a walk to the guillotine. His gaze slid from her feet up her bare legs and to the large, shapeless shirt that fit her like a muumuu.
“Mercy,” he said under his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and then bent to retrieve her wet shorts and shirt. “I’ll put these in the dryer for you.” He fled the room again.
Perplexed, Amanda scratched her head. What the fuck was his deal? She wasn’t that unappealing, was she? For a few minutes she’d actually thought he was attracted to her. Now he was treating her like she had a communicable disease.
Oh well. She wasn’t going to let his lack of interest ruin her evening. Even if he didn’t want her in a sexual capacity, they could still have a few laughs together. She searched the fridge for a couple of beers, tossed several slices of pizza on a plate and grabbed the bowl of fruit before carrying it all to the family room off the kitchen. She set everything on the coffee table and knelt in front of his shelves of Blu-ray discs, scanning titles for something that would give her an excuse to bury her face in his chest. Just because he wasn’t attracted to her didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy being close to him. Right?
Desperate much, Amanda? She released a heavy sigh.
On her elbows and knees, she swayed back and forth with nervous energy as she read titles. She wouldn’t have known he’d entered the room if he hadn’t muttered, “son of a bitch,” under his breath. What was his problem now? She pulled a case off the shelf and tossed it on the coffee table.
“How about that one?”
“Fine,” he said, without looking at it. He crossed the room to the large ottoman at the foot of an oversized blue chair. He opened it and pulled out a blanket. “Have a seat.”
When she sat on the sofa in front of the television, he unfolded the blanket over her lap and then went so far as to tuck it in around her legs. “That’s better,” he said.
“What’s better?”
He paused. “I figured you were cold.”
“In a flannel shirt?”
“Your legs, I mean.”
“It’s June.”
“The A/C is on.”
“Okay, I get it. I’ll keep covered up,” she said testily. “Sit down and eat.”
Scratching the back of his neck, he eyed the chair on the opposite side of the room. If he sat all the way over there, she was going to punch him in the nose.
“Put the movie in,” she said and loosened the blanket so she could reach for a slice of pizza.
He obeyed. She glowered. They hadn’t even kissed, yet all of the easy friendliness between them had vanished as if he’d just discovered he’d been making out with his first cousin. She paused with her pizza dangling from her mouth. Oh God. Maybe he thought of her like a sister. She suddenly felt like throwing a Julie-sized tantrum.
Jacob got the movie going and then settled at the opposite end of the sofa from where Amanda was wrapped up like beans in a burrito.
“Uh, no,” she said, “if you’re making me watch a scary movie, then you’re sitting within grabbing distance.”
He inched closer but looked none too happy about it. She munched her pizza and sipped her beer while pretending she didn’t feel like an ugly duckling. The room darkened as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. The surround sound and the suspense soon had Amanda so engrossed in the movie that she couldn’t look away from the wide screen. She was the woman lost in the woods. She was the woman who kept glancing over her shoulder. The sound of crunching leaves grew louder behind her. Closer. Louder. Something grabbed Amanda’s shoulder. She screamed.
Jacob burst out laughing.
She smacked him on the arm. “You scared the shit out of me.” Her heart was racing out of control.
“Hey, you were the one who wanted to sit within grabbing distance.”
“So I could hold on to you when I was afraid, not so you could scare me.”
The blue light of the television cast an eerie glow to his grinning face. “Sorry.”
“No, you aren’t.” She took another sip of her beer only to find it empty. Her pizza had also disappeared into her stomach while she’d been absorbed by the movie. She noticed Jacob had finished all the slices she’d brought from the kitchen and she did not want to move from her spot.
Amanda reached for the bowl of fruit, setting it between herself and Jacob on the sofa. They both reached into the bowl at the same time, and the back of his hand brushed hers. Her entire body tightened in response. He yanked his hand from the bowl and reached for his beer. Jeez, was it hot in here or was it just him? Most likely it was the fucking blanket she was smothered under. She kicked it off and tucked her legs beneath her, which moved her closer to Jacob. He didn’t seem to notice, but his scent engulfed her, mixing with the mouthwatering scent of strawberries and oranges wafting up from the bowl.
The unlucky woman on the TV screen was being brutally murdered, but Amanda didn’t find it nearly as frightening as the build-up. Blood and guts didn’t bother biology teachers. The being stalked in the darkness part terrified her, however. So when the next unlucky woman found herself being pursued down dark alleys in the wrong part of town, Amanda leaned toward Jacob until her temple rested on his shoulder.
He tensed, but didn’t push her away.
“God, don’t these women carry a damned cellphone?” Amanda said. To the woman on the screen who was breaking into an abandoned warehouse, she yelled, “Don’t go in there, you idiot.”
Jacob pulled the bowl of fruit from between their hips and set it on the table. Then he did an entirely baffling thing. He wrapped an arm around her and cradled her against his side. Her heart was definitely pounding now. Blood rushed through her ears, stifling the screams of the woman in the movie. Movie? What movie? Amanda’s awareness focused entirely on the hard male body pressed against her. She didn’t mean to turn her head and kiss his neck, but once she’d crossed the line, there was no retreat.
Chapter 5Every nerve-ending in Shade’s body was already in tune with the woman beside him, so when her soft lips brushed his throat, the last shred of his self-control snapped like an overstretched rubber band. He’d thought covering her with a big, shapeless flannel shirt would keep his raging hormones in check, but seeing her looking so small and feminine in his shirt had unleashed a second battery of hormones. The blanket he’d used to hide her sexy bare legs hadn’t helped smother the lust in his groin. And now? Now there was no way in hell he’d be able to get through another moment without tasting her. Every inch of her. He didn’t care if she was off-limits—he was on fire.
She gasped when he deftly shifted her onto her back and covered her tempting little body with his. He buried his hands in her hair and tilted her head back. She stared up at him with her soft green eyes wide with shock.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Amanda,” he said. “I only have so much self-control.” He claimed her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss, not knowing if he wanted to punish her for being irresistibly unattainable or if he wanted to devour her whole. He groaned when her mouth opened to his. Fuck, she was even sweeter than he imagined.
He tore his mouth from hers and kissed and suckled her throat.
“Jacob,” she whispered breathlessly.
Most women he bedded called him Shade because that’s
what they thought his name was. Hearing his given name made him feel vulnerable and unbalanced. It didn’t do a damned thing to calm his excitement though. If anything, it fueled the inferno already blazing inside him. His fingers curled into the soft flannel at her shoulders. Kissing her hadn’t been enough, but necking, necking was plenty. He could stop here. Not take it any farther. He could stop before he destroyed their cherished friendship with mindless fucking. He could stop.
His fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt. He just had to feel the give of her soft breasts against his palms. That was all. He’d hold her luscious breasts in his hands for just a moment and then he’d stop. Shade opened the shirt and shifted onto his elbows so he could cup her breasts. Her back arched, pressing the soft globes more firmly into his hands.
“Jacob,” she moaned.
Oh God. He couldn’t let her call his name like that again, or the hardened nubs of her nipples that were burning holes through her bra and into his palms would have to be sucked and licked and nibbled. He wasn’t going to take it that far. He had to stop before … She shifted her back from the sofa and unfastened her bra.