Lip Lock: Country Fever, Book 2 (8 page)

“That’s okay,” she said. “It’s dry.”

“I don’t care about the table. The question is, are you dry?” He reached her, thrust the bouquet into her hands at the same time he crushed her to him. She quivered in his hold, smelling strongly of lacquer but the hottest woman he’d ever known.

“Brant, you shouldn’t be here. Andrea—”

“Is well aware that I’m here. Now give me your mouth.”

She made a soft noise of want. Sagging in his hold, she tipped her face upward for his kiss.

He wanted to give his passion free rein but instead slid his lips over hers tenderly. The barest movement had him ready to come in his pants. As he caressed her lips with his, drinking in her flavors, he thought up new ways to convince her to keep seeing him. She held herself apart, but when he touched her, she gave her body wholeheartedly.

Well, he’d break down that barrier if it took him years. From the first time he’d set eyes on her, he’d known she was worth it.

Her shaky sigh washed over his lips.

“You didn’t answer me. Are you dry? Or wet for me?”

“Brant…” Embarrassment seeped into her voice.

Spinning her so his body blocked hers in the event her boss opened the curtain, he ran his hands all over her curves—pinup girl curves he wanted to nestle against all day and night. He skimmed the sides of her breasts, and she sighed. As he squeezed her waist, she squirmed. But when he latched on to her hips, she rocked forward.

He kneaded the hollows above her hipbones through her jeans. Finally, he drew back enough to drink in her appearance. Tiny T-shirt riding just above the waistband of her jeans. That strip of golden flesh was the most enticing thing he’d ever seen. But when she shifted and a hint of her electric blue panties flashed, he groaned.

I’m going to strip those blue panties off you and bind your hands with them
.

“All right, come for coffee with me.”

She raised a pale brow, amusement etched around her full lips. “Coffee or cunnilingus in the car?”

“I walked. So coffee. The oral sex comes later, after you’ve had dinner with me tonight.”

“I can’t do the dinner. Drake has a game. But it’s time for my break anyway. Coffee I can handle.”

She laid aside the flowers he’d given her after burying her nose in the petals. Then she wiped her hands with a cloth soaked in what he guessed were spirits.

“How are you not completely high from working in here? My head’s spinning.”

“You get used to it.” She grinned, tossed the rag into a bucket then crossed to a wall sink. He stared at her back while she scrubbed to her elbows. Damn, her ass looked good in those jeans. He had to get her out of them, get her ass into the air, and just look at it.

At least he’d look at it for a minute. That’s all the time he’d be able to stand before touching it, easing a finger between her round cheeks…

“Ready?” She was staring at him with a cautious look.

He gripped her elbow, letting his hand slide all the down her arm, and threaded their fingers. “Yes. If I’m going to be high, it will be on caffeine and a chocolate pastry. Come on, darlin’.”

Walking down the street with her on his arm gave him a heady feeling that had nothing to do with fumes. As they strolled, he asked her questions about what she was working on and how long it would take to finish. They discussed Drake’s upcoming game. But at the door of the coffee shop, he asked her to commit to seeing him after the game, and she stiffened.

Their gazes connected and sparks flew. If he backed off now, gave her the choice, would she run? He couldn’t risk it—didn’t want to give her that chance. “Say yes, Hayley. You know you want to.”

“I…”

He tightened his lips then blew out a breath. “Fine. Play hard to get, baby. But I have forty-eight minutes to convince you.” With a hand on her lower back, he led her inside.

The rich fragrance of coffee and sweet things filled his senses. At the counter, he ordered a latte and two chocolate pastries, but Hayley only ordered black coffee.

Giving her a quizzical smile, he paid the cashier and they took a tray to a table for two by the window.

“You sure it’s a good idea to sit in the open this way? After what happened in the diner yesterday…”

He pulled his chair up to the round tabletop. “What, that little kiss?”

“The kiss that nearly started a fire in the booth.”

A grin jerked the corners of his mouth upward. “Well, there’s no booth here, which means you’ll be sitting in my lap.”

She gave him a round-eyed look. “You wouldn’t.”

He pushed a pastry toward her. “Watch me.”

She didn’t touch the pastry but sipped her coffee. He couldn’t tear his gaze off her. Today her face was clean of makeup but glowed with a radiance most women only achieved after facials and with lotions.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Staring?”

She nodded.

“I can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

With those three little words, she transformed from cool acquaintance to the burning lover he’d uncovered in the car. Her lips fell open on a sigh, and her eyes hooded.

He set down his coffee with a clank and gripped both her wrists. His fingers overlapped around her fine bones. “Tonight. Dinner at my place.”

“It’s a school night. Drake will be home all night. I’d have to tell him I’m going out.”

“What will he care? He’ll probably throw a party.”

She giggled. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I don’t know, Brant.”

“It’s an easy word to say, Hayley. One small syllable. Yes.” He stared into her eyes, and arousal blasted him.

He dipped his gaze to her shirt, where her nipples strained against the cloth.

She pinched the web of his hand between thumb and forefinger. “Stop that, Brant Foxfire.”

“Only if you agree to see me tonight. Hayley, don’t fight this thing we have. It’s too special to throw away.”

Something dark moved behind her eyes, and she pulled free of his hold, placing her hands in her lap.

Studying her, a hundred questions popped into his mind. What was she afraid of? Her son finding out his mom was dating his orthodontist? Or a concern she wasn’t relaying to him?

The alpha in him leapt at the challenge. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Do you ever?”

“Not typically.”

At that moment, his cell twanged a country tune ring tone. His face scorched. Giving an internal groan at his stupid sensitive capillaries, he brought his phone to his ear.

“Sorry, I need to take this. It’s about a building I own,” he said to Hayley. She gave a faint nod.

“Brant Foxfire. Yeah, hi, Steve.” As he spoke, he stared at Hayley, alarmed to see her face pale significantly. With a shaky hand, she lifted her cup to her mouth and sipped the hot brew. But she didn’t meet his gaze again.

Into his ear flooded a list of supplies his apartment manager Steve would need to do various repairs.

“Just use the account at the home improvement store in Casper. I’ll take care of the bill. Just make the repairs. Those tenants need to have things fixed.”

Hayley gave a short, “Excuse me,” and shoved her chair back so fast, it nearly fell over. She caught the back with an apologetic smile then fled to the restroom.

Slamming the metal door to the bathroom stall, Hayley pressed her back against it, breathing hard. Steve, her apartment manager, was on the phone with Brant? It had to be the same Steve.

Brant owned a building that Steve managed? Her building? Her stomach plummeted to the soles of her feet.

She was two months in arrears with her rent.

Did Brant know this? Maybe he had no clue who lived in the building, but only cared about the cash coming in.

All at once, she wanted to cry. The money issue weighed on her, a stone dragging her down to the bottom of a fathomless pool. If only that son of a bitch ex of hers would come up with his child support.

It didn’t seem she’d receive payment anytime soon, which meant she had to come up with the money on her own. Drake’s dad never contributed, and the state wouldn’t go after him because on paper, it didn’t look as if he did anything but mooch off his latest girlfriend.

Hayley had to get the money before Brant found out, if he didn’t already know. He wanted her now—but once he discovered she was keeping cash out of his pocket, would he?

The bigger question was did she want him to be interested in her? He represented everything she knew enough to run from—the chemistry between them was similar to that she’d experienced with Kent so many years ago.

But she couldn’t hide from Brant. He tracked her down at work, at the ball field. If he didn’t know where she lived yet, he soon would.

She smacked her palm on the door. Dammit, she wanted him too. Passion roared through her whenever she looked at his solid, muscular frame and handsome features. The chiseled lines of his jaw ignited her, and his eyes… The Wyoming sky had never been so blue.

Stay or go? Agree to dinner with him? Or back off and keep under his radar until she paid her rent?

Either way, she had to return to the coffee shop. He’d think her a madwoman by the way she left, but that couldn’t be helped now.

Drawing a deep breath, she exited the stall, washed her hands and then went into the main dining area.

Across the room, she met Brant’s intense gaze. Heat slithered low through her belly and lower into her sex. Need pulsed in her clit, memories of his talented tongue dancing over her bud too fresh in her mind.

By the time she sank into her seat across from him, she was dripping wet.

“Everything okay?” He closed his hands over hers, staring into her eyes—into her soul.

Fuck, she was in deeper than she’d hoped. “Listen, Brant, about tonight—”

He leaned in, infusing her senses with his scent. God, his lips were so close.

“Don’t even think about turning me down, Hayley. I can’t wait any longer than tonight to see you. If I didn’t have appointments scheduled all afternoon, I’d close down shop and steal you away.”

Warmth spread through her, along with those special tingles she associated with his touch. Unable to help herself, she inclined toward him. He closed the gap, his lips suddenly on hers.

A wave of dizziness captured her. For a long minute, she only felt his hard lips and the tip of his velvety tongue smoothing over hers. Her life faded—Kent, money troubles, Drake’s thoughts on her dating—all lost to the moment.

Someone walked by their table, wrenching her back to reality. Straightening, she whispered, “We’ve gotta stop with the public displays of affection. My son would be mortified.”

Brant gave a rumble of laughter, but his gaze still held the fire from their exchange. “I’ll pick you up after the game tonight.”

She shook her head.

“Then I’ll meet you somewhere.”

“No, Brant—”

“I’ll come to the game and attack you under the stands.”

Images floated through her mind, a parade of sexy poses and naked limbs. She clamped her thighs together. “I don’t think so, Foxfire.”

He squeezed her hand hard. “Hayley, do not play hard to get with me anymore. I will have you in the end.”

His words held a power over her that she couldn’t explain or ignore. She found herself nodding. “All right. I’ll meet you right here at eight-thirty.”

“That’s late for dinner.”

She smiled, a hint of his usual playfulness creeping into her. “Then it will have to be dessert.”

Chapter Seven

Brant was pacing again. It seemed to be his newest pastime. Before meeting Hayley, he’d spent hours in his basement gym, working the equipment and running on his treadmill to pass the unfilled hours. Now he had no need of such gear—he was getting plenty of exercise between stroking his cock and pacing the floor, waiting for Hayley.

It had taken a supreme act of will to stay away from the ball game. To keep himself away, he’d stopped by one of the apartment complexes and talked to Steve. They discussed the repairs to be made and how much the supplies would cost. It would set him back a hefty chunk of change, unfortunately. Apartment 1C needed a new refrigerator, and something was wrong with the water system. The entire building was losing pressure off and on.

Sinking money into this building meant he’d cut into his down payment for another building he had his eye on. A buyer might snag up that property before he had a chance to earn the money.

Thinking about his land brought about the idea of taking Hayley to his farm. They could make a weekend of it. He kept a few horses there, cared for by the neighbor, and they could ride as well as hike or just curl up in front of a fire.

Naked, of course.

The coffee shop was packed with patrons eager to see a young performer. The guitarist was already warming up, strumming and humming while patrons milled around drinking coffee and laughing. But outside, Brant was miserable, beginning to think Hayley wouldn’t show.

He cast a look up and down the street. He didn’t even know where she lived. How far did she have to drive?