Flirting With Disaster (8 page)

Women were all fine and good as long as they
fit his vision. Trophies that could talk intelligently, that looked
incredible on paper. Pesky when they didn't fall in line. He'd
kissed her with passion, but since she was complicated—prickly—he'd
moved on to a woman who had blushed deeply when he had offered his
hand. He'd gone right for the kind of woman Brooke would never be
again. Not for him. Not for anyone.

Brooke was drunk and stupid for forgetting
that she'd given up soft and sweet for a reason. Stupid for liking
another man who turned from her to find nicer, softer, sweeter
women.

She jumped at the touch to her shoulder.
Peyton's brows furrowed in concern.

Brooke shook her head before her friend
could ask what was wrong, and yelled over the horrible singer. “I
just need some air.”

Peyton opened her mouth to reply, but Brooke
didn't give her the opportunity. She used the wall as a support to
get around the counter then through to the kitchen until she pushed
out the back door in the far corner.

The spring season inched closer to summer
but still the balmy air had disappeared this late at night. There
were a ton of cars parked in the dirt lot surrounding The Grog.
Peyton had felt it gave the bar a more Western feel than it really
had so she'd chosen to leave the area around it unpaved.

Brooke kept to the shadows and found a nice
little nook along the building. She closed her eyes and rested her
dizzy head against the wall. Just that easily and without a single
conscious thought, Dane had dragged her back to the moment her life
had changed. She hated feeling that vulnerable with someone else.
Like he could break her with a word, make her doubt herself and her
own femininity. She definitely hadn't missed the sensation that
someone had ripped out her heart and she could no longer
breathe.

“
Are you sick?” a familiar
male voice asked.

She pushed out a frustrated sigh, but her
stomach tightened. “Did Peyton send you out here?”

“
No,” Dane sounded confused
by the question. His voice was closer than before.

She opened her eyes. He had his jacket
clutched in his fist. She wasn't surprised he was outside. It was
turning into the kind of night where her luck had escaped and
refused to return. “I needed some air. Some air I really didn't
want to share.”

“
You're drunk, and in a
parking lot outside a bar by yourself. Nothing you say will make me
go back inside.”

“
You still haven't told me
why you're even out here trolling in the dark.”

She couldn't see his face but the stiffening
in his stance let her know he'd bristled at her words. “I saw you
leave.”

“
And?”

He sighed and intruded her personal space,
throwing her off enough she couldn't think of a good enough reason
why he shouldn't have. When she did, he threw his jacket over her
shoulders, and whatever she had to say got caught up in his scent.
The man was high maintenance. He smelled expensive and complicated
and masculine. That combined scent turned into a curl of need in
her stomach.

“
You know what? I don't
care,” she said. The liquor had given her a heady buzz. If she had
a filter, the whiskey had drowned it. “I came out here to remind
myself of all the promises I made when I stopped believing in the
happily-ever-after my mother had always told me
existed.”

He glared at her. “And why in the hell would
you need to do that?”

“
Because I've had too many
shots and I was looking at you, wanting you.” She grabbed a fistful
of her hair and tugged as though that could help clear her thoughts
and douse her arousal. “I know better when I'm sober.”

He made a
pfft
sound. “You were
sober when we were sitting on that bench.”

“
You caught me off
guard.”

“
Don't insult me or
yourself,” he said.

She pulled his jacket closer around herself.
The soft material kept her warm. That feeling made it easy to tell
him the truth. He wasn't a threat, he was...there. “I don't need a
man to make me feel whole, and that I've accomplished a full life
just by getting hitched. I can have that without you or any man.
I'm not less of a woman because I don't have soft hands. And I
deserve better than to have a man who kisses me then another woman
a few hours later. I don't need you, Dane. So, I don't understand
why you're out here with me.”

He stilled. “You're jealous?”

She straightened her shoulders. “No.”

His laugh was seductive as he stepped
forward and ate up what was left of her personal space. He placed
his hands on the building behind her. It was dark, yes, but with
him so close she could make out his features.

Lust etched deep lines around his brows and
lips, and the tick in his jaw line showed he was fighting it. “I
was dancing with her because I—so I could forget you. That may make
me a dick and I'll wholeheartedly accept that.”

He cupped her chin and lifted it up so there
was nowhere but his gaze to look. “But while I was dancing with her
she smelled wrong, felt wrong. All I could think about was you. How
your hands aren't smooth. How you use that mouth to tell me to fuck
off in a nice way, but I wanted yours more than I could ever want
hers. I shouldn't touch you. I damn sure shouldn't be out here
wanting to push you against this wall and lose myself inside you.
But I saw you leave the bar and the only thing I could do was
follow.”

Her heart twisted at his
words. She should have been turned off. Shouldn't have felt some
kind of relief at what he said. He felt just as conflicted about
his feelings for her as she did for him.
So how could she not melt at the relief?
It had to take a lot of…well, a lot of whiskey for him to
admit that he wanted her with such an intensity. And to be honest
about his reasons for dancing with that other woman. She swallowed,
still fighting the inevitable draw to him. It was too dark, they
were too alone and none of their usual inhibitions were anywhere in
sight.

“
What a way to compliment a
girl.”

“
Yeah.” He laughed, his
gaze sliding down to her breasts and the heat slid in his eyes.
“Give me that mouth. I need your lips on mine or I won't shut up.
Whatever I say tonight will embarrass the shit out of me
tomorrow.”

She curled her fingers in his shirt. “I'm
going to regret telling you about my ex.”

His frown deepened. “But you didn't tell
me.”

“
If you were listening, you
heard all about him.” She yanked him a little closer and slanted
her mouth over his.

She wanted to blame the shots of liquor for
the way her head spun, but it wasn't that. It was Dane. His taste
reminded her of every forbidden thought she'd had about him since
they met. Dangerous, heady, and a simple treat to just indulge. Her
head continued to spin and an undeniable warmth started at her
mouth and drifted down.

She could write off one kiss as a mistake, a
moment where she lost her head. Two had an intent, a promise for
more. A need for it. For him.

Brooke dragged him closer, and she was the
one to make the angry, frustrated noises each time his tongue
feathered along her mouth.

He broke the kiss, his mouth searching until
he sucked hard on her neck. She clung to him, but that frustration
built in her chest. What she wanted was his skin on hers.

When he licked at the sting of his bites,
her knees weakened, but she untangled her fingers from his shirt.
He'd sucked, nipped and licked his way across her collarbone. The
only logical thing was to put her hands beneath his shirt and
caress him. His stomach was ridged but the skin was smooth.

“
Don't,” he murmured
against her skin. “I can barely keep it together from licking
you.”

Why would she listen? She wanted to witness
Dane mussed, ruffled, and barely recognizable to the man who made
her teeth clench together in anger.

She scraped her nails over his stomach.
Pleasure filled her when he groaned, but in the next breath, he had
her hands clasped above her head. His jacket fell from her
shoulders. He pushed her against the wall, sliding his leg between
hers.

His gaze was so dark when he looked at her.
“Fucking stubborn,” he growled.

Lust and liquor made her reflexes slow, but
she couldn't lie and say him holding her captive didn't have some
appeal. It made her so wet, and she never wanted to admit that out
loud.

She told him the truth. “If you want docile
then go back inside.”

He didn't break the eye contact. “I'm right
where I want to be.” He slipped a finger beneath the v-neck of her
dress and dragged the material over until her right breast was
exposed. He did the same with the left. “Beautiful and happy to see
me as always.”

She gasped. He chuckled before he dipped his
head and then he flicked his tongue over her left breast. The
moisture from his mouth cooled in the breeze. Between the constant
change of warmth and cool, her nipples ached. Her sex throbbed. His
hand tightened on her wrists as she moaned, lost in the sensation
of his mouth. She fisted her hands because it wasn't enough for him
to touch her.

“
I want more,” Dane said,
lifting his head so they were eye to eye.

Yes. No. Yes.
Please.
“More?”

“
Here. Now.
Pill?”

“
No. Condom?”

“
No.” His reply sounded
like a curse.

He licked and nipped up to her ear, his
breathing heavy. “You won't let me touch you like this tomorrow,
and I won't let myself need you like this.”

“
Because it's
insane.”

“
Maybe.” He rested his head
on hers, his eyes closed. “Let me taste you. We can't fight a
memory like that.”

It wasn't lost on her how hungry he sounded,
and what he said wasn't even a question. “Dane,” she murmured,
breathless.

He kissed the side of her mouth. “Taste
you.”

He lifted her chin and kissed along her
neck, across both breasts and lower. The heat of his mouth lingered
wherever he kissed as he trailed down, caressing her through the
thin material of her dress.

He'd long since let go of her hands, and she
was grateful for the freedom to touch him. She cupped one hand on
the back of his head as he lifted her dress, murmuring something,
but she couldn't hear the words because his mouth was on her skin
now. Beneath her dress.

He gripped one leg and threw it over his
shoulder. She had to press her back against the wall to keep
herself upright. He tasted her right through her panties. She
couldn't tell who made the louder groan. And he was right. Even
with the haze of liquor she wouldn’t forget this. Dane on his knees
in the dark parking lot suckling her through her lace panties. Dane
hooking his finger at the edge of the material and pushing them to
the side. That hot mouth of his, that tongue of his searching for
her clit, and when he found it, he suckled her there too.

The music and fun may have been loud in the
bar, but the quiet felt stark in the shadows with him. Her moans
were so loud. His hard sucks reverberated right up her spine.

Him on his knees, her legs
open wide for his mouth—this
wasn't
pristine. It bordered on dirty, and Dane hadn't hesitated. She'd
suspected but...no. She wouldn't forget how he used his middle
finger to obliterate any preppy image of him. His tongue flicked,
teased, caressed her clit.

“
Dane.” Her voice was tight
and low. “
Dane
.”

He stiffened his tongue and her brain quit
working. That was fine. The heat prickling over her skin required
all her attention. That delicious pull in her stomach just needed
to be felt, not questioned or inspected. The orgasm built until she
couldn’t fight it. Her pelvis jutted forward, closer to his tongue
and finger as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. She shuddered,
losing her breath. Her legs trembled even as the hold of the climax
loosened, leaving her panting and bleary-eyed.

Dane caressed her as he rose, fixing her
panties and then the top of the dress. She expected a kiss, as
though he could prove she liked her own taste.

Instead, he whispered in her ear, “Something
we won't forget.” His laugh was husky and she shivered. “I know
your taste now and you'll want me to do it again.”

She hesitated but let her fingers snake back
under his shirt. He was warm and close to her. Tonight, they were
taking away excuses, but the obvious one stared back at her. “We're
drunk, Dane.”

He weaved a little, a goofy grin on his
face. “I suspect so.”

She laughed, raising her hands until the
tips of her fingers brushed his nipples. They immediately hardened
at her teasing. “How much do you think we're going to hate each
other in the morning?”

“
I've never hated you.” He
pulled back, his frown deep.

Her heart skipped. He hadn't? “But?”

“
You'll be more determined
to get me to apologize. I would if I were wrong. Nothing and
everything has changed.”

She'd known that was the answer. Didn't make
her hate it any less. “Yeah.”

CHAPTER SIX

Since Dane had a perfect view of City Hall
and Tanner Creek from his home, he faced the window, grateful for
the warmth and the fact the light had stopped stabbing his
eyes.

Ever since he'd rolled over to find himself
not alone in his bed, he'd tried to find a semblance of normality.
He'd gotten up, pulled the dark curtains open, made coffee as usual
and then sat down in the plush chair to drink his coffee while he
waited. Though the throbbing in his head hadn’t died down until
after a gallon of water and a greasy breakfast.