Headed for Trouble (The McKay Family #1) (18 page)

Part of her sometimes wondered what might have happened between them.

But he’d overdosed one night—partying after a gig. She found out only because she had been looking for him the next night when they were supposed to meet up, and the drummer had seen her. After he told her, he’d offered to let her cry on his shoulder—and other places.

Donnie.

His name had been Donnie, and sometimes she thought they could have had something between them, two lost, pitiful souls. Two broken people. But they probably would have just made a bigger mess of each other than they already were.

A sad, tired laugh escaped her as she tilted her head back to the sky. She’d always thought the rush with Donnie was the edge of the forbidden—and that was why she hadn’t responded to William the same way.

A few days ago, in the span of a few minutes—actually with one kiss, maybe even just a look—Ian Campbell had shown her just how very wrong she’d been.

And he’d just called her an angel? She couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of it.

“Let me in on the joke?” he asked.

“You’re one hell of a flirt, you know that?” She turned her head and looked at him, felt her heart thud hard against her ribs as their gazes locked. His lashes were a thick, heavy fringe, as black as the hair on his head and the neat beard on his face. She could remember the feel of that beard rubbing against her—her face, her neck—and her knees threatened to melt as the image of feeling it in other places tried to take over her mind.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we’re going to be in the same situation we were in a few days ago,” Ian said, his voice calm, logical.

And his eyes all but scorched her flesh.

“The same situation.” She shrugged and went back to studying the river. “Just which one is that? The one where suddenly you give me the side eye because I’m Brannon’s baby sister?”

“Ah, now, and here I was thinking you’d decided to forgive me for that one.” His voice was wry, the self-deprecating humor unmistakable.

Neve wouldn’t let herself look at him.

Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, she said, “Well, I’m still Brannon’s baby sister. Nothing else has changed, either. So whether it’s the fact that I’m his sister or something else that got in your way…” She paused and finally let herself shift her gaze back to him. He was so damn pretty. It all but sucked the air out of her to just look at him. He was so …
male
. Big and broad and solid and everything about him called to her.

Why
now
? Despair threaded through her and for a bizarre moment, she wanted to scream—just
scream
because it wasn’t fair, wasn’t right that she’d finally met somebody who actually made her
feel
something and it couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

But then again, when in her life had it ever been a
good
time?

His eyes narrowed on her face, and she realized something of what she was feeling must have been showing. She quickly smoothed her expression. In a bored tone, she said, “You might as well quit the flirting. We both know you changed your mind.”

“And who said I changed my mind?” he asked, looking put out. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“You did.” She gave a lazy shrug. “I saw it on your face, clear as day.” The look on his face was a challenge, but she couldn’t let herself meet it, even if she could find that part of herself that would
want
to.

Because she wasn’t sure she trusted herself, she sat down on the dock and dangled her legs over the edge, staring down into the dark water. Under the trees, it was almost cool here. Almost. Not quite. “You’ve been here for a little while—a few months or more, at least, I’m going to assume. So you’ve probably heard a few rumors, and I can’t say I blame you for deciding I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

Boards creaked under him as he sat down next to her.

From the corner of her eye, she could see the way faded denim stretched over hard thighs, denim so worn it was going white at the seams. His T-shirt bore the logo for Manchester United and it was almost as faded as the denim. It would be soft against his skin, she thought. And under it, his skin would be incredibly hard and warm.

She wanted to curl her hands into his shirt, straddle his thighs, and rub herself against him. And she wanted to yell at him for making her think she could maybe have the small promise of oblivion with him.

You’ve lost your mind
.

All this time with a nonexistent libido and now it was going haywire on her. To make matters worse, it wasn’t even lust driving her now. She’d known that from the sucker punch of pain that had hit her when the heat in Ian’s eyes had cooled, the moment he’d realized who she was.

“I’ve never been one to put much stock in rumors, Neve McKay,” he said softly.

“Really.” Turning her head, she studied him. “So the hot-to-cold act was all because you figured out I’m Brannon’s little sister? Then why are you running warm again? I’m still his sister.”

A pained look crossed his face. “You aren’t one for the easy way, are you?”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed bitterly. “I
love
the easy way. But the easy way
hates
me. I figured that out ages ago. Besides, life isn’t easy.”

Ian leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. “Brannon, he’s one of my best friends. Has been since university. We met in London and it was like we’d known each other our whole lives.” His voice was distant now as he gazed into the water. “Like a brother, he is.”

Now he looked up and met her gaze. “I take issue when people hurt those I care about,” he said. “And…”

She stiffened. Curling her hands around the boards, she focused on the far side of the bank. “Well, I’ll give you points for the loyalty you show your friends then.” She forced her fingers to unclench from the boards and went to stand.

“It’s not just that.” He caught her wrist before she could rise.

It was instinct that had her jerking back, instinct that had her pulse stopping than accelerating in fear.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Ian, either, damn him.

Although he said nothing, he let go.

She managed to rise to her feet in a slow, unhurried motion. “Look, it doesn’t matter. You’re Brannon’s friend and it’s not a secret that I’ve got some fences to mend when it comes to my family.” She gave him an easy smile and an easy shrug before she turned and headed down the dock. “But it’s probably wiser all around if you just stop this … whatever this is. The hot-and-cold thing gets old and I—”

The words froze in her throat as she turned and found him just a foot away.

Whoa. He was quiet. Big. Sexy. Quiet.

And he watched her with eyes that saw a lot deeper than she liked.

“The problem with stopping the hot-and-cold thing is that there is no cold.” He lifted a hand and caught one of her curls, twining it around his finger. His gaze, dark and seductive, richer than melted chocolate, held hers. “I look at you and feel nothing but fire in me, Neve. I think you know it, too. Now if it was just fire, then it wouldn’t be such a problem. Fire is all well and good, but it’s easy … and sometimes over in a flash. But this…” He moved a hand between them. “I don’t think it’s just fire. You feel it, too. That’s why you’re so nervous. That’s why you’re so afraid.”

Her heart knocked up against her ribs.

“Well. Aren’t
you
arrogant?” she said, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded.

“Is it arrogance when we both know I’m right?”

He took another step, taking away a few of those precious inches between them, twining a bit more of her hair around his finger. She had to tilt her head back now to hold his gaze.

“I made a misstep when I let things I didn’t understand influence any decision I made,” he murmured, his eyes falling from hers now.

He was rubbing her hair, his thumb stroking back and forth over the curl he was toying with.

She could just barely see it but the action was oddly mesmerizing.

“There are, after all, two sides to every story, aren’t there?”

Now his gaze lifted back to hers.

Swallowing, Neve tried for a snide tone as she asked, “Oh, is this where you ask me to explain
my
side of what happened?”

“No. This is where I kiss you.”

If he’d given her any more warning, she might have been able to … to …

Oh, hell. Neve couldn’t have done anything. Anything but grab at his shoulders and hold on tight.

*   *   *

She made his heart ache.

She made something inside him sing—made him feel alive in a way he couldn’t even understand.

And when he kissed her, she made him think of honey and fire and the very devil.

Sweetness, heat, and all the temptation in the world, wrapped up in one intoxicating package.

As her mouth opened under his, he slid his hand around her waist, rested it at the small of her back. Rested it right there, although what he wanted to do was haul her against him and take her down to the boards under their feet. He didn’t because he’d seen it. Oh, he’d had his suspicions, but that minute flinch she hadn’t been able to hide earlier had confirmed what his gut already knew.

Somebody had hurt her. Ian knew it as well as he knew his own name.

And Marshall wanted him to talk Brannon down?

No, Ian wanted to hunt down whoever it was and bloody the bastard himself.

But for now …

Ian pulled her more securely against him, shuddering as the slight curves of her breasts went flat against his chest. She was long and slim and the thought of having her under him was enough to make his brain melt.

When she slid her hands under his shirt, he pulled his mouth away from hers.

“I want to see you naked,” he said, pressing his mouth to her neck. “I want to see you in my bed. I want to see you smile, and make you laugh, and hold you while I do it. If you’re not sure you’re ready for that, then you need to pull back. Now.”

She stilled and then lifted her head. “We’re not having sex.”

“Not here? Or not ever?” If she said not ever, he thought he might cry. Just go to his knees and sob.

She blinked, looking startled. Then she frowned. “Here. We can’t have sex here. And I still haven’t decided if I even want to sleep with you.”

“Well, then.” He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face to his.
That’s definitely not a
not ever, he thought, immensely satisfied. “I’ll just have to work on convincing you that you really do want to sleep with me, then won’t I? After all, you wanted to a few days ago.”

He flicked his tongue against her lips, but she didn’t open for him.

Her hands curled into his shirt and she averted her head. “A few days ago, I was looking for a way to not think. You were just going to be a distraction, Ian.”

“I can still distract you.” He slid his hand under her shirt and splayed it wide, stroking his thumb against the silken skin. “Neve, really, I think you spend too much time thinking as it is. Turn your brain off for a bit. Just feel…”

He raked his teeth down her throat. He loved the way that made her shiver. Sliding his hand down along the front of her chest, he cupped her breast through the faded red cotton. She jolted and he stilled. “Want me to stop?”

A shaky sigh escaped her. “I’m still deciding.”

He trailed a line of kisses down her neck. “Well, you keep thinking then. Let me know when you’ve made your decision. While you think, though, you should be more comfortable…”

Her eyes flew wide and she clutched at his shoulders as he swept her up, then took her to her back. She fisted her hands in his shirt. “Lying on my back on a wooden deck is supposed to be more comfortable?”

“You looked like you wanted to get off your feet for a spell.” He smiled as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the middle of her chest, through the cotton of her shirt. Her heart bumped hard against her ribs—he felt it and he reached for the small buttons that held her top closed. “You look hot, too.”

Now she snorted. “You must have been every mother’s nightmare with lines like that.” She reached up and caught his hand, stilling him before he’d finished with all those tiny little buttons.

Good enough for now,
he decided. “I’m just trying to make you comfortable,” he said, keeping his voice easy. And he liked seeing her smile, even if the shadows of fear and distrust hadn’t entirely faded from her eyes. They would. He’d see to it. But for now … he’d settle for seeing the pleasure roll across her pretty face again. Her shirt gaped to just below her bra and he braced himself on his elbow as he stared down at her.

A ragged breath escaped him.

“That’s a pretty sight, Neve,” he murmured. Pretty, though, that didn’t describe her. She was as pale as moonlight, and the black silk of her bra made her skin gleam like a pearl. He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to the soft swell of one breast, toying with the front clasp.

When he freed it, she just lay there, although she still held her hand protectively over the buttons that kept the bottom half of her shirt closed. “Are you still deciding?” he asked, as he levered his weight up over her.

Her eyes had gone dark, as dark as the mossy green that gathered under the trees here at the river. Her mouth was damp and she stared at him, half blind. “Deciding?”

He took that as a yes, so he lowered his head and caught one tight nipple between his teeth.

She closed one hand over the back of his head, rasping out his name.

“Let me know when you want me to stop,” he said. He’d have to. He wouldn’t make love to her the first time here on a wooden dock where the boards would bruise her, but he wasn’t ready to stop yet.

And when she gripped the back of his head with her other hand, he thought maybe she wasn’t ready for him to stop yet, either.

Now that she’d let go of her shirt, he dealt with the rest of her buttons and then caught her around the waist, twisting and rolling until she straddled him.

She moaned and arched, rubbing herself against him, and Ian thought he might come like that, just from the feel of her and the scalding heat of her as she moved against him. Curving one hand over her side, he rubbed the underside of her breast, stroked a path down the flat plane of her belly.