Betting Hearts (18 page)

“Get. Out.”

“Nope.”

“Cass—”

She stood up, strolling to him and waving her sheers like the evidence they were. “You think you can muscle out of this one, don’t you? I caught you red-handed, Halifax. You’ve been sleeping with my stockings!”

“They were stuck between the mattress and the wall. I found them this morning on accident.” A believable lie. A damn good one, actually. He’d be proud of it if he were a liar. Hell, he’d be proud if it got him out of this mess.

For a moment, she dimmed. But only a moment. “These are silk. It they were caught on the wall, there’d be a snag. There would
only
be snags.”

Shit.

“I can’t believe you lied to my face.”

Burke couldn’t believe it either. This whole mess was making him insane. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d leave.”

“Why are you sleeping with my underwear?”

He closed his eyes, exasperated. “I was not sleeping with your underwear. Those are stockings and a garter belt—”

“So you admit you’re sleeping with them?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did. You—”

“Cass!” He roared, shutting her up instantly. He bent down, making sure to be right in her face so she couldn’t misunderstand. “This conversation is over.”

He was close enough to see the gold flecks at the edges of her green irises. Close enough to see her uncertainty, her worry…her resolve. Before he could pull away, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Cass’s knees trembled. Her arms ached. Her lips met a solid wall of stubborn male determination. Burke stood up, taking her with him and letting her dangle rather than push her away. Okay, so
Lissabelle’s
advice to
“Surprise him with extra affection first thing in the morning”
wasn’t exactly solid. She would have had better luck kissing the Wooden Indian outside of Sid’s Barber Shop and Tobacco.

She would have given up but—aside from her own stubbornness—she knew Burke didn’t want her to. She could feel it in the rigidness of his arms. In the rigidness beneath his towel.

Pulling herself up even more, she slung her legs around his waist the way she used to force her way up trees when she was little. With the extra leverage, she was able to concentrate on kissing him into submission. Assuming, of course, it was possible.

She softened her mouth over his, gliding her lips back and forth across the unyielding flesh. A nip at his bottom lip made him start, but that was about it. Finally, she slid the tip of her tongue over her bite.

His hands clamped on her, making her gasp with triumph and relief. His mouth opened beneath hers, giving her a tantalizing taste of him as he strode forward toward the bed. It was a rough kiss, his hunger reaching out and roping her closer to him to ravage her mouth. Already his hands gripped her bottom, nearly kneading her through her jeans. Just when she was going to groan out his name, she found herself screeching it instead.

As she sailed through the air to land on his bed.

Without him.

Confused she looked up at him, ready to yell at him for screwing up a perfectly good kiss when she realized she might have bitten more than she could chew. His arms were crossed again, his eyes blazed and she had a feeling he was absolutely capable of spitting nails. His towel seemed to have run for cover as well because it was breathtakingly gone. She couldn’t quite decide where to look. His face was unforgivably hard and…uh, so was everything else.

“What do you think you’re doing, Cassandra?”

Her eyes flew up to his sizzling blues.
Uh-oh.
She’d raked gravel that sounded more appealing than his tone, and the look in those eyes promised total immolation if she didn’t have a damn good answer for him. Still, she really should tell him about his towel. He’d just be angrier later. “Burke, your tow—”

“Why are you doing this, Cass? Everything was fine the way it was. Why are you trying to change everything that matters? Don’t you realize we can’t go back now?”

Back?
Who wanted to go
back
? Cass didn’t have any trouble knowing where to look now.

“Back to what?” If she’d spit in his face, she didn’t think she could have confused him more. “You think I
want
to be the one you talk to and never see. That I
want
to be the one you feel safe with because I’m as constant as your furniture and about as interesting. I want
more
than your friendship, Burke.” She didn’t realize how much more she wanted until the words were out of her mouth.
Oh God, I want all of him, body and soul.

“There isn’t anything more. I don’t have it to give.”

“You can’t actually believe that.” But he did. She stared up at his flushed face, the hard edges of his cheekbones, the squared power of his jaw, and saw he did. Every inch of him marked by his control, from the slash of his dark brows and harsh line of his mouth to his clenched fists and sinewy legs braced far apart as if in battle. Why was he committed to have nothing?

“We can’t change what we are to each other.” His voice was low, thick with what sounded like regret.

“Last night, we changed everything.
You
changed it when you kissed me.”

“I told you already, it wasn’t us. It was a game.”

“You think I don’t know when a man wants me?”

He graced her with a sarcastic look.

If she could have reached him, she’d have smacked him. “You’re a jerk.”

“Better a jerk than a liar.”

“I can live without that kind of honesty.” Geez, why not just say he’s gay, too. At least she knew what that little morsel of honesty
really
was. “Next time you want to be
honest
, you should keep your towel on.”

Cass rolled over and started to climb over his mattress to leave the room, but felt his hand on her ankle, dragging her back. She looked over her shoulder at him, angry, hurt and irritated. “Let go.”

“Oh no you don’t. You invade my house and my privacy, piss me off and think you can run off? No way. You wanted to talk about why we can’t do this? Let’s talk.”

“Since when do
you
want to talk about anything, Burke? Your idea of talking is to talk me out of stuff. Save yourself the trouble, you’ve already talked me out of this.”

“Cass—”

She kicked, minimally happier when he grunted in pain, and started scrambling again. Right as she was getting to the opposite side—why did one man have such a big bed anyway?—he caught hold of her and dragged her all the way back. She would have kicked him again, but he seemed to have thought of that. Next thing she knew, he was looming above her, his body pushing her into the soft bedding.

“Get off, you big lug!” She pushed at his shoulders, getting nowhere fast. Well, actually, she managed to worm further under him as he fit himself between her legs to avoid her twisting knees. He was grumbling too, but she didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying. Giving up on his shoulders, she reached up for his scattered pillows, pushing one into his face as hard as she could.

“Cass, damn it!”

“Get off!” She lifted her hips hoping to toss him over, but it didn’t work any better now than when she was twelve and trying to get away with his best baseball cards. Schmuck always did weigh more.

He grabbed hold of the pillow and threw it across the room before catching her hands to hold them over her head. Cass was still gasping, still struggling, while he looked down at her like he could happily strangle her within an inch of her life. “Settle down!”

It occurred to her, somehow through the haze of her own temper, that he was still naked. Naked and nestled between her thighs. It must have occurred to him as well because his eyes flickered, the lines of anger disappearing while he looked down and took stock.

“Well, hell,” he said, probably wondering how he got this way.

Cass linked her ankles behind his back, making him look back up at her, eyes wide with what could only be fear. She smiled.

“Yeah, Hell.”

Then she raised her head and kissed him.

This is
such
a bad idea.

It was all he could think. It didn’t make him get off her though. He probably could unlock her legs if he tried, but she was using such sweet pressure and it was much easier to go with it.

She wasn’t wearing her vanilla scent today, but it didn’t matter. He still could smell her specific, earthy Cassie scent, the one that had him bucking forward while she pressed herself against his chest. This time, he didn’t fight her sudden kiss. She didn’t have to press so hard, meaning he could relax and enjoy the taste of her, the feel of her from head to toe. She breathed into him, twisting to get closer, opening her mouth wide for him. Her mouth and her legs.

“Cassie,” he said, letting himself shift to his elbows and free his hands. She groaned throatily when his fingers pulled her tank top free from her waistband. Small hands were soon there, pulling the fabric from his grasp before whipping it over her head.

Suddenly, there they were. Her breasts, like forbidden fruit, mere inches from his chest. Strawberries had never looked so sweet. She shifted and he couldn’t help but wince.

“Cassie—”

“You can’t talk me out of this anymore. Don’t even try.”

“I’m not—”

“Good.” She pulled his head down.

“Cassie!”

“What?” she snapped, dropping to the pillow, hair draped as wildly across his sheets as he’d fantasized.

“If we’re doing this, you’re getting out of those jeans.”

“We’ll get there,” she grinned, visibly relaxing now that she knew he wasn’t trying to escape. “You don’t have to be in a hurry.”

“Yes I do, you’re chafing the hell out of me.”

She tried hard not to laugh, clamping her smile between her teeth. He was having a rough time himself, especially when those kitten eyes glittered at him with familiar humor. For a moment, things were like they always were. They were in on a secret joke together; no one else in the world mattered.

Burke sobered.
What the hell are we doing? All that will be gone if we do this. Won’t it?

The smile fell from her lips, melting away until the only thing left was her vulnerability. If he had a heart it would have cracked.

“Don’t look at me like that, Burke.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re already regretting this.”

He couldn’t deny it. “What if—”

She covered his lips with her fingers. “No. No matter what happens, neither of us should regret this.”

He closed his eyes. He couldn’t make that kind of promise. This experience couldn’t come without regrets. Good things never came without a steep price. “You don’t understand, Cassie.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Maybe I never will.” Her hands slid off his shoulders and down to her own waist. She stopped looking at him, turning away as surely as she would if he slept with her. “Maybe I’ll never understand why the men I want to make love to never want me enough.”

God, lumped with Hanson again. And for something that wasn’t even true. He wanted her too damn much.

“I kept wondering why it was never right with Luke. He always seemed satisfied, I guess. He didn’t care very much whether we did anything or not. When he left that letter, I was…relieved. I’d actually started to believe—just for a little bit—that it wasn’t me. But it was, wasn’t it?”

He ran the backs of his fingers over her smooth cheek. “No, Cassie, it wasn’t.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shining and killing. “Why are you looking at me like that? Like you’re going to apologize for something. Don’t apologize, Burke. Tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

It was the tear spilling from the corner of her eye that did him in. He tried to wipe it away with his hand but it already disappeared into the masses of red hair beneath her. “You were with the wrong man, honey. That’s all.”

Her soft mouth quivered. “I’m with the right one now, though, aren’t I?”

Damn it all, he didn’t have a choice. He lied. “Yes, Cass, you are.”

Cass looked into the ocean-blue depths of his eyes and lost herself. She brought her hand to his cheek, wondering if he knew she could see him worrying. The rough texture of his morning stubble teased her fingers with shivers. Painstakingly, he lowered his mouth to hers.

She closed her eyes at the last moment, savoring the expression on his face for as long as she could. More than worry was there; a softness she’d never seen before was there as well.

His hands went to work on her jeans as he moved his body next to her, easing down the zipper and slipping his large hands inside. Shouldn’t there have been something funny about Burke’s fingers sliding around her hip to push the fabric out of the way while she toed off her shoes and socks? About the way he slid her underwear down with them, never once looking down to the animal print she had gotten such a kick out of.