04 Naked Games (17 page)

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Authors: Anne Rainey

Tags: #Hard to Get

BOOK: 04 Naked Games
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The thought was more depressing than ever.
21
W
hen she arrived on Dean’s doorstep at seven sharp, Dean answered the door after the first knock. Catherine’s entire body went on high alert when she caught sight of him. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a plain white T-shirt. His hair was a wet, tousled mess as if he’d recently showered. And he was barefoot. Staring at the man could easily become a new favorite hobby of hers.
“Hi,” Dean said as he reached for her hand. In a lust-induced daze, Catherine stared at it a second before finally placing her hand in his. He intertwined their fingers and pulled her into the house, then kicked the door shut. Catherine started to ask him about his wet hair, but Dean quickly dragged her into his arms and proceeded to kiss her senseless. Catherine’s mind went blank and she melted against him as every fiber in her being raged to life.
When he pulled back, they were both breathing heavy and the animalistic look in his eyes sent butterflies to flight inside Catherine’s stomach. “Damn, I needed that,” he gritted out.
“Me too,” she confessed, wishing he hadn’t stopped so soon.
Dean helped her with her coat. He looked her over and Catherine could almost feel the stroke of his gaze as he stopped for a few fiery moments on her breasts. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Then again, your curves could make a burlap sack look downright indecent.”
Catherine smoothed her hands down her sides. “I still think I need to lose a few pounds, but thank you.”
“Don’t even think about going on a diet.” He paused, then said, “Speaking of that, I made some more hot chocolate. Want a cup?”
She rubbed her hands together to ward off the chill. “Oh, it sounds wonderful, thank you.”
Once in the kitchen, he turned toward her. “I hear you visited with my mom and sister today.”
Catherine sat at the table and crossed her legs. For some reason she was nervous. She wasn’t sure why, but she suspected it had something to do with the fact that she’d discovered she loved Dean and wasn’t too confident the feeling would ever be reciprocated. Yeah, that could have a girl on edge.
“Catherine?”
She snapped back to reality, embarrassed that she’d forgotten his question. “Sorry, I got sidetracked. What did you say?”
Dean grabbed a potholder and took a steaming pan off the stove. “I was saying that I heard you visited with my mom and sister today. How’d that go?”
“Oh, yeah, they came to Gracie’s and had lunch with us,” she explained. “I enjoyed talked with them. Your family is pretty great.”
He nodded, then turned back to the counter to pour their drinks. Catherine took a moment to admire the view. Her gaze traveled over his strong shoulders and back, all the way down to his butt, where she got stuck for a few seconds. When she recalled how good that particular body part felt beneath her fingers, immediate meltdown occurred.
After Dean finished making the sweet chocolaty delight, he came back to the table and sat in the chair next to her. She took her drink and blew on it to cool it off. Catherine noticed the little marshmallows floating on the surface, and joy swept through her. The fact that he’d remembered made her feel special. She carefully plucked one out and popped it into her mouth.
Dean groaned. “I love watching you with hot chocolate. It’s sexy as hell.”
Catherine nearly choked. “No way is hot chocolate sexy, Dean.”
“I beg to differ, sweetheart,” he murmured as he reached over and picked out a chocolate-soaked marshmallow from her cup and held it to her lips. “Open up,” he gently ordered. Catherine obeyed, and he placed the sweet treat onto her tongue. She closed her lips around it and swallowed, while Dean watched on. A low rumble of sound came from deep in his throat. “Mmm-hmm, definitely sexy.” He sat back and took a drink of his own chocolate before asking, “So, did my family warn you away from me? Did they tell you I’m a troublemaker?”
She laughed. “Of course they didn’t. Their love for you came through loud and clear.” She hesitated to tell them what all they’d discussed, but in the end opted for total honesty, and prayed it was the right choice. “There were some questions.”
He quirked a brow. “An interrogation, you mean?”
“Oh, no, not at all. They’re merely curious about us.” She looked down at her mug. “So am I, to tell the truth.”
Dean’s hand covered hers. “You’re curious, huh?”
Catherine dipped a finger into the now-warm liquid and swirled. “I leave in a few days, Dean. I don’t know what’s going to happen—with us.”
She felt a finger beneath her chin, and Catherine lifted her head. Dean gave her such a scorchingly hot look that she could’ve sworn her blood caught fire. “I think it’s time for your surprise, sweetheart.”
At the reminder that he had a present for her, Catherine’s mood lifted. “You really have a surprise for me?”
He stood and held out a hand. “Come with me and you’ll see.”
“Okay,” she said as she put her hand in his and let him steer her out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.
He released her and pointed to the bed. “Have a seat while I get it.”
Catherine grinned from ear to ear as she did as he instructed. She couldn’t imagine what he might have for her. When he went to a set of doors and slid one open, her curiosity piqued. Catherine watched on as Dean picked up something large and covered in a cream-colored cloth. She couldn’t tell what lay beneath.
When Dean reached the side of the bed, his gaze on her, he said, “I hope you like it.”
Catherine caught a hint of uncertainty in his voice and she wanted to reassure him, but when he yanked off the heavy covering, she literally felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Her mouth dropped open as she took in the treasure before her.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. Catherine’s surprise was a sketch of herself, sleeping. Dean had drawn her as she lay curled up in bed, her hair all around her, the blankets draped over her with one leg uncovered. She leaned closer and realized it was her hotel room. The morning after he’d spent the night? He’d drawn her from memory? He’d even framed it in a gorgeous cherrywood frame. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thoughtfulness of his gift to her.
Dean crouched in front of her and cupped her face in his palms. “Are you crying? Ah, hell, you hate it, don’t you?”
“No, Dean,” she rushed to correct him, “not at all. It’s . . . it’s simply stunning.” She didn’t know how to put into words what his present meant to her. “It’s absolutely the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
His smile was one of pride. “I had a gorgeous model.”
She wanted to cry. “It must have taken you quite some time to complete though. There’s so much detail. The crinkled bedding, my sleep-tousled hair.” She looked at him and asked, “When did you draw this?”
“While you were at the performance with Gracie. I . . . had some free time on my hands.”
“But you framed it, even.” Catherine was still dumbfounded that he’d managed to complete something so beautiful in such a short amount of time. “How’d you get it done so quickly?”
He shrugged. “I had the wood for the frame on hand.”
In that moment, Catherine saw a vulnerable side to Dean. He’d seemed so confident and in control. Watching him now, she knew she wasn’t the only one with their emotions in overdrive. It went a long way to soothing her ravaged nerves.
After one last lingering look, Dean recovered the sketch and took it to the other side of the room. He sat it against the wall and came back to her, his strides long and purposeful. His powerful body had her fairly tingling with need.
“It’s time we talked about my trust issues,” he stated in a firm voice. As he sat on the bed next to her, Catherine noticed that their thighs were close but not touching. He needed distance for whatever he was about to tell her? A sense of dread filled her. Still, even without knowing what he was going to say, Catherine knew this discussion was way overdue.
She took a deep breath and let it out, then said, “I’m all ears.”
Dean placed his arms on his thighs and stared down at the floor, as if attempting to figure out how to begin. “Her name was Linda,” he finally said with a bitterness that spoke of real pain.
Catherine hated the woman already and wanted to say as much, but instead she stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
Dean swiped a hand over his face before he straightened and caught her gaze. “And I was in love with her.”
Catherine paled, suddenly afraid for him to say more. Afraid she wouldn’t be able to withstand what he was about to tell her. She remembered Deanna saying that Dean hadn’t had much luck in the dating arena and knew this must have been what she’d been talking about.
She reached over and placed her hand on his thigh. “What happened?” she asked.
“She cheated on me,” he bit out. “The day I was going to propose to her, I walked in on her with another man.” He grimaced, as if reliving the moment. “She was my whole world, Catherine, and she betrayed me.”
Catherine wanted to do some serious bodily harm to Linda. It was one of the few times in her life, Catherine actually used the B word.
Dean’s head shot backward. “Ouch,” he said with a playful half smile curving his lips.
Catherine shrugged. “All I know is that if she tossed a man like you to the side, then she must’ve been off her rocker.”
“Yeah, well, the point is it’s hard for me to trust because of her. Because of what she did to me. He paused a moment then added, “Sadly, she wasn’t the only girlfriend to walk all over me either.”
“I understand” Catherine said. “It would be difficult for anyone to trust after that.”
“Yes,” he gritted out.
“Is that why you’ve had it in your head that I was lying about my adoption? That I was up to no good?”
“Yeah,” he answered as he reached over and took possession of her hand. Enthralled, Catherine watched as he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips against her palm. “I’m sorry for being a complete shit,” he said. “I’m sorry for not having faith in you. I know I don’t deserve it, but if you’ll let me I promise to make it up to you.”
God, her heart was breaking for him. For a man as passionate and loyal as Dean, a betrayal like the one he’d just described would be worse than if the woman had stabbed him in the back with a butcher knife. “It’s okay. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. It’s in the past.” His gaze caught hers as he said, “The point is, I treated you badly and it wasn’t fair, sweetheart.”
“Yes, you did, but I know why now,” she said, her heart softening for the strong man sitting next to her, baring his soul. “Linda left quite an impression on you, and it’s hard to get over something like that.”
“Yeah, and it’s frustrating as hell.” He frowned, a muscle in his jaw jumping erratically. “I’m no good for you, Catherine.”
“How about I be the judge of that?” She stroked his cheek with her free hand and murmured, “Besides, I only have so much time left in Ohio, and I want to make the absolute most of every minute.”
Dean wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and drew her close. “Mmm, not a bad idea,” he growled as he kissed her. It was so brief and soft, Catherine barely had time to take in his taste before he pulled away. “This evening is for you, sweetheart.”
She had no idea what he meant by that, but when he released her and pushed her backward until she was sprawled atop the cool blankets, Catherine gave up on attempting to think clearly. Her worries about their relationship flew out the window as erotic images of her gorgeous lover filled her head.
Dean, in all his tanned, dark-haired glory, stood and stripped out of his clothes before sprawling out on the bed next to her. His well-muscled body and the intensity in his dreamy hazel eyes were enough to have any woman drooling. The heavy length between his legs made Catherine’s face burn. He was hard and ready and he was all hers.
Catherine tore her gaze away from his erection and searched his face for answers. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve the way she did, but she felt loved in that moment. Was she deluding herself?
Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her stiff body in tight. She was as rigid as a wooden plank, every muscle strung tight with nerves and fears.
“Relax. Leave all the big questions for later. For now, just feel my body against yours,” Dean softly commanded, his voice, so rich and smooth, sliding over her skin, relaxing and firing up her libido at the same time.
“This feels . . . different somehow,” she confessed as she buried her nose into his side.
“What’s different, sweetheart? Talk to me,” Dean asked, his voice a smooth caress.
“I don’t know,” she said, as she attempted to put into words what she felt. “Up until this very moment you didn’t trust me. You made it clear that what was between us was only physical. It doesn’t feel that way now. At least not to me.”
Dean shook his head. “Sweetheart, it hasn’t been purely physical for me since the moment you so bravely came to my front door offering a truce.” He grinned. “You have this soft, giving nature that people respond to, including me. I love that you’re stubborn and shy and funny. Every part of you intrigues me.”

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