Full Throttle (Fast Track) (8 page)

He leaned down and kissed her, which made her squawk in alarm. She had saliva in the corner of her mouth, damn it.

Not that it mattered. It was a very brotherly sort of kiss. Or grandson to grandmother on her birthday. Coupled with his complete lack of interest in nailing her the night before, she suddenly felt very grumpy as he left her alone in her bed. What the hell was going on? Yes, she was fully intending to reject him, or more accurately fend him off for the next six days in order to prove her point, but the thing was, he was supposed to be making it necessary to fend him off. There was no need to fend, because he wasn’t trying anything. What was up with that?

Was she just no longer attractive to him? Did he see this as a purely business deal after all? The idea of being forced into celibacy for the next year was more than a little horrifying. Never mind that it had been a year since she’d had sex anyway, at least then she’d had the
option
of sex. But if Rhett didn’t want to diddle her, then she was going to be diddle-less.

That was not going to fly. Shawn shoved the covers back and decided she was going to brew some coffee, and then she was going to make Rhett Ford want her more than any woman he’d ever met in his entire life.

 • • • 

RHETT
pulled up to Shawn’s house at six, exhausted and admittedly a little bit irritated. It had been a long day at work, juggling his usual responsibilities with having to repeat explanations over and over that yes, he had gotten married. No, he wasn’t an idiot. Yes, his new wife was older than him, and why did that matter? It had been harder than he had expected because he wasn’t really the kind of guy to share his feelings with anyone, least of all his coworkers.

What he would really like to do to turn his mood around was walk inside that house and bend his wife over the kitchen table and bury his frustration inside her wet and willing thighs. Only she was acting skittish and like she regretted this fake marriage, even though it had been her idea. It both insulted and hurt him, which just further increased his bitter mood.

There would be no easy conversation, no cuddling, no ball-draining endless nights in her bed. At least not yet. It was going to require patience and finesse he wasn’t entirely sure he had to coax Shawn into understanding this would all go a whole lot faster if they spent some of it in bed.

It had him wound tight, and he shoved the side door open harder than he intended.

What he saw in the kitchen was very possibly the only thing on earth that could have improved his mood.

Shawn was bent over the oven in a short dress and heels, pulling a couple of T-bone steaks out of the broiler. As he kicked off his muddy boots on the doormat, she turned. The front view was even better than the back. Her dress plunged in a V, and her breasts had been pushed up and together, like a couple of perky grapefruits in the grocery, on display perfectly. Just for him.

She smiled. “Oh, good, you’re just in time for dinner.”

Hello. “Well, then good thing I’m hungry.”

Fanning herself with the oven mitt, she said, “Whew, the broiler made me so hot. I think I need a cool drink.” She tugged her dress down lower, exposing enough cleavage to have his cock standing up to take notice as he went up the steps to the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything? A beer?” She picked up a cherry that had been used to garnish a pie—a fucking pie—and sucked the syrupy sauce off it, the plump fruit between her lips, a sassy glint in her eye.

Seriously? What alien had abducted Shawn and replaced her with this little flirt?

He wanted to ask her if she had hit her head, but the truth was, he didn’t really want the answer to that question. Whatever her game was—and it was clearly a game—he didn’t want to prevent her from playing. In fact, she sparked his competitive nature. If there was a game going on, he was bound and determined to win it. That was why he liked to be behind the wheel racing instead of on a crew. He liked to control the situation.

So he went over to her, still wearing his coat, and immediately gripped the back of her head with his hand, pulling her to him for a kiss, a hot, wet, tongue-plunging kiss that transferred the cherry from her lips to his mouth, where he bit it, then shared the sweet tangy juice with her.

Then he broke away and told her, “I stole your cherry.” He swiped the remnants of the juice that were clinging to her swollen lip and sucked it off his finger. “Mmm.”

“You didn’t even ask,” she said, her voice husky with desire. Her nipples jutted out prominently in her stretchy black dress, and her hair was loose around her shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was wearing more makeup than usual, her eyes carefully outlined in a charcoal gray.

Someone was trying to mess with him.

“You didn’t stop me,” he told her. “By the way, I like this dress. What’s the occasion?” He fiddled with the neckline, following the trail as it descended to her rib cage, his flesh brushing against the creamy exposed hills of her breasts.

“Just trying to get off on the right foot,” she said, leaning back on the counter. “We have to live together for a while. It would be better to do it in harmony.”

“It would be better to do it naked,” he told her, slipping a finger inside the dress to stroke lazily across her swollen nipple. “Pull your dress down, Shawn. Show me your breasts.”

“What? No!” Her cheeks pinkened from more than the blush she’d put on them.

Like he believed her indignation. “Why not? You clearly want me to notice them, otherwise you wouldn’t have put this dress on, and this bra that so nicely thrusts them out in my direction. So pull down the neck and let me really see them.”

“No. Does being so bossy work for you?” she asked, even as her hand fluttered up to her chest, her fingers playing with the fabric of the neckline, which was really more of a navel line, the plunge was so pronounced. “Because you’re very good at it.”

“Not really,” he told her truthfully, shifting his leg in between her ankles. “I haven’t met a woman strong enough to handle me yet.”

“Strong enough? Don’t you mean passive enough?”

He shook his head. “No. That’s been my mistake. I only scare those women. What I need is a woman strong enough to trust me, confident enough to enjoy obedience. I don’t want you to pull your dress down at my command and feel ashamed to do it. I want you to do it and be turned on by it, aroused by my demands. It’s a big difference.” His lust was dark and swirling inside him, a hot desire on his tongue, and he wanted her with an urgency that had him clenching his fists by his sides, his cock thick and throbbing in his jeans.

Her breathing had grown deeper, her eyes wide. “Oh. I guess I get that. But I’m not having sex with you tonight.”

“No,” he agreed. “You’re not having sex with me until I say so.”

She wouldn’t like that. At all. But it was true.

Then she did exactly what he had known she would. She peeled down her dress, taking her bra with it, so that her breasts sprang out, her nipples just barely in view. “Is this what you wanted to see?”

What she didn’t realize was that in her attempt to thwart him, to exert control, she had in fact submitted to him. It was immensely sexy.

She was also wearing the red lace bra he had given her, if he was not mistaken, which was deeply satisfying.

“Yes, that’s what I wanted to see.” Rhett just drank in the sight of her, color high in her cheeks, head held tall and proud, ripe breasts gloriously bare, a mere foot in front of him. If he leaned over, he could suck the taut bud up into his mouth and sink his teeth down on it, turning them both on with the sharp tang of her pain before he soothed her with his tongue. But he didn’t.

Instead, he kissed her mouth, a soft, gentle, worshipping kiss, but not of the fervor of their earlier tongue tangle. Her hands were trapped behind them, her breasts pushed against his chest between them. “Thank you,” he told her as casually as he could manage. “Now let’s eat this dinner you were so sweet to make before it gets cold. Where are your plates?”

He moved out of her personal space and opened a cupboard to look for plates, knowing she would be baffled by his withdrawal. Just like he wanted.

SHAWN
wasn’t sure exactly what had just happened, but it definitely wasn’t what she had intended. Yes, she had purposely dressed in an outfit that would get his attention, and she had made dinner to throw him off-kilter. The only one in this damn kitchen who was off-kilter was her. Somehow, he had effectively turned the entire situation to his advantage.

Now she was just sopping wet and aching to be taken by him.

She had proved to herself that he was interested in her, and wow, wasn’t that a satisfying victory? Not. He seemed to want her, alright. Wanted to torture her.

It wasn’t every day she flashed a guy. It seemed like it should be a little more noteworthy than “Where are the dinner plates?” But maybe that was just her.

“In the cupboard next to the fridge.” Shawn bent over again to retrieve the twice-baked potatoes out of the oven, hoping that Rhett was looking so he would see that she had logged a lot of time at Zumba and yoga classes to get these legs.

He hadn’t even noticed that she was wearing the bra he had gifted her with the day before. She was also wearing the matching thong, not that he was going to see it.

“I hope you like twice-baked potatoes and asparagus,” she said, using tongs to pull the broiled vegetables off the pan and onto the two plates Rhett brought over to her.

“I do.” He stood next to her, facing her, while she was facing the counter, which brought him in close and intimately. “Thank you again. I appreciate this.” And he tucked her hair back behind her ear, a personal gesture that made her want to step away, retreat.

But she held her ground, and she transferred potatoes to plates. “You’re welcome. So does everyone know we’re married? Did you tell your parents?”

He nodded. “They were more than a little surprised. And we’re the subject of gossip at the track. Most people seem to be of the opinion that you’re pregnant.”

“What?” Shawn carried the two plates over to her kitchen table and set them down. “I guess I’m not surprised, though nothing could be further from the truth.” According to seventh grade health class she couldn’t get knocked up from a toilet seat, and it wasn’t going to happen any other way, so she was safe.

“Good to know. I’d hate to think I was your cover for having an illegitimate child. I don’t really want to end up on the
Maury Povich
show. Rhett Ford, you are
not
the father.”

Shawn laughed. “Yeah, me either. Do you want some wine?”

“What I want is something that’s not on the menu,” he told her, even as he glanced down at his steak. “Though this looks very tasty.”

She shouldn’t ask. She knew what he meant. It wasn’t exactly subtle. But for whatever perverse reason that meant she probably needed therapy, she wanted to hear him say it out loud. “What is it that you want?” she asked, ignoring her own plate of food as she walked across the kitchen, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor as she went for a bottle of merlot.

Any other man she’d ever dated would have said, “You” or “Isn’t it obvious?” or something generically similar. She knew that wouldn’t be Rhett’s answer. He would give specifics, and they would make her wish she hadn’t asked at the same time they would turn her on. A lot.

She was right, and she did like being right.

He said, “I want you, Shawn. I want you out of that dress, strewn across this table with your legs spread for me so I can lick your pussy until you scream. Until you beg me for my cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Shawn froze in front of the wine rack she had mounted on the wall next to the fridge. It was a rhetorical question, she supposed, and she knew what her answer was, but if she said it, well, would that mean she’d lost?

Then again, what would she lose? A bet that had no stakes, really? Or her dignity? No. He wasn’t trying to strip her of that.

More likely she would lose control, that’s what she was afraid of.

It was going to be a very long six months if she was terrified the entire time.

So she turned around and very slowly, she nodded. “I probably would like that.”

He smiled. Then said, “Sit down, babe. I can get the wine for you.”

“I’m fine. I have it.” Turning away, Shawn used her automatic bottle opener to uncork the wine and poured herself a healthy glass of red. This was nuts. How was she going to do this for half a year? “So I suppose I need to make a key for you. And you are free to come and go as you please, you know. No need to feel like you have to check in with me. I don’t want to . . . interrupt your life.”

Rhett pushed his chair back and stood up, and when he came toward her, Shawn shivered in anticipation. She had a feeling he was going to pull her dress down and suck her nipple, which was really a perfect way to kick off any dinner, wasn’t it? But he actually walked right past her and stared at her, expression curious, as he yanked open the fridge and rooted around, before emerging with a beer.

“Is that what you would like? For us to be roommates, accidentally sharing the same space?” He shook the beer. “Should we have separate shelves for our food and take turns supplying the toilet paper?”

When he said it like that, it wasn’t particularly attractive-sounding. “I’m trying to be accommodating.”

“Let’s not make rules. Let’s not stress out. Let’s just feel our way through it.” He popped open the beer with his bare hand, no bottle opener needed, apparently. “Now come sit down and enjoy the dinner you were so wonderful to make.”

What the hell was she supposed to say to
that
? He really left her very few options. She was just going to have to relax and behave like they were friends. It was maddening. Confusing. Because now she really had no idea whatsoever what it was she wanted. Did she want to sleep with him? Did she want him to go away? Did she want to sleep with him, then have him go away?

Good question.

She had no choice but to sit down and eat her meat. The answers would come later or never. Much like her.

The interesting thing was that Rhett was an easy conversationalist. She wouldn’t have expected that. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like the guy could smolder 24/7. At some point he had to make conversation. Presumably.

Which again made her feel at some sort of disadvantage. So he could toss out sexual comments and invade her personal space and then switch gears and talk casually about the weather and tell anecdotes about his family. It left her no way in which to gain the upper hand.

Though he almost never laughed. Maybe instead of trying to play a sexual cat-and-mouse game by wearing a sexy dress—a game she would most definitely lose—she could disarm him by making him laugh.

Shawn mentally eye-rolled herself. What was she going to do, dress like a clown? Do stand-up?
So a priest, a driver, and a parrot all went into a bar
. He’d think she was a freak.

She was starting to worry she was.

She was also full. Pushing her plate back, she said, “When I was a kid I always wanted a huge family. I felt sort of ripped off that it was just my mom, Will, and me. At the very least I wanted a sister.” Truthfully, what Shawn had wanted was some attention, any attention. Her mom had checked out emotionally the day her dad had left physically.

“You can borrow one of mine if you like. Seven sisters is a bit excessive.” Rhett had eaten everything on his plate, including the potato skin.

“They’re going to hate me, aren’t they? For ‘eloping’ with you?” Not that it mattered, since it wasn’t a real marriage, but hey, Shawn liked to be liked.

“I doubt my sisters will care. They just want me happy. Frankly, they’ll appreciate not having their kids dragged into a wedding as flower girls and ring bearers and whatever.”

“How many nieces and nephews do you have?”

“Fourteen. No, fifteen.” Rhett frowned. “Wait. Then Owen was born. Sixteen?” He started murmuring names and counting on his fingers. Finally he said, “Hell if I know. You’d have to ask my mom.”

Shawn couldn’t even imagine having a family that big. “I’m surprised someone doesn’t go missing on a regular basis. That’s a lot of kids to keep track of.”

“Once when I was five, my parents left me home by accident. They took two cars to go to my grandma’s house, and both thought the other one had me in their car. I was in my room getting my Power Ranger to take with me, and when I came out, the house was empty.” He gave a wry look. “It was my
Home Alone
moment. Thank God they just went down the road, not to France.”

“Were you upset? Did you cry?”

“No. I watched TV and ate chips, grateful for the silence. When the phone rang, I answered ‘Ford Residence,’ feeling pretty badass about the whole thing. It was my mom, and she burst into tears and told me to lock the front door, that they were on their way home.”

“Aw, your poor mom. I can only imagine how worried she was.”

It wasn’t hard to picture Rhett as a solemn, curious child, watching everyone, not reacting with any fear. In total control of his emotions.

Shawn had never been in control of her emotions. It was why she was so willing to dive into stupid situations.

“I bet you were a sassy little girl,” Rhett said, draining his second beer.

“I was the kind of kid who got into a lot of scrapes. Climbing trees, crawling in drainpipes, trapping snakes. Yeah, that was me. Eve and I were a force to be reckoned with on the junior racing circuit.” The memory made her smile. “Picture two dusty little tomboys talking smack, and that was us.”

“I have no problem picturing that. But Eve is more the smack talker than you. I bet you got your way with your charm.”

She snorted. “What charm? Though after I heard Eve had kissed Junior Spaulding behind the grandstand at the county fair the summer we were thirteen, I decided my life wouldn’t be complete until I got Ty McCordle to do the same with me. So I carefully laid the foundation with clumsy flirting all week at the track.” She shook her head, remembering all the hair flipping and lip gloss that had gone into that summer. She had walked around looking like she’d dipped her lips in the fry oil.

“So what happened? He kiss you?”

“Of course,” she told him. Hey, she may be thirty-two, but she wasn’t above a little bragging still. “Though it didn’t go off without a hitch. He was chewing gum and it ended up in my hair. I had to use peanut butter to get it out, and for days I smelled like a peanut butter cup.”

Rhett laughed. “Smooth, McCordle. I wish I knew him better so I could give him shit about that.”

“Well, the peanut butter seemed to make me instantly desirable. Boys were crawling out of the woodwork the rest of the summer because I smelled like a candy bar.”

“Or maybe because you were the thirteen-year-old version of hot.”

“Or because they heard I was up for tonsil tango.” Shawn grinned at the thought of that summer. She had been skinny, flat as a board, and sporting braces. Probably not every teenage boy’s fantasy. Then again, she hadn’t looked much different from the other girls. “I was taller than most of the boys my age that year. They needed serious motivation to overcome the embarrassment of coming up to my chin.”

“I bet. That’s a scary thing for a guy.” He gave her a look, the one that usually meant she was about to be sorry she had taken that bet. “Did you wear cowboy boots? I always had a thing for girls who wore cowboy boots.”

“I might have.” She’d had three pairs that she had rotated on a regular basis. She’d been particularly fond of a red pair, but he didn’t need to know all her secrets. “I bet you were a father’s nightmare in high school when you came sniffing around his daughter.”

He didn’t deny it. “I was harmless. For the most part. Like now.”

Harmless as a rattlesnake. If you didn’t get too close you wouldn’t get bit. Otherwise, you were dead. “Uh-huh,” she said noncommittally.

Rhett stood up. “Can I get you more wine?” He collected her plate and took it with his to the sink, where he rinsed them and loaded them into the dishwasher. For a second, Shawn thought she might have an orgasm just watching that. A man who cleaned up without being told? Without bitching about it?

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” Shawn stood up quickly, wanting to do . . . something. The truth was, she wanted to be near him. How utterly lame was that? His presence was so powerful that when he moved away, the air seemed colder.

And she was clearly drunk.

But that didn’t change the fact that the dishes still needed to be washed. She’d left the detritus of the broiler pans on the oven and several mixing bowls in the sink. Edging him aside with her hip, she rapidly pumped soap onto a sponge. And actually, she wasn’t drunk at all, she was just acting like she was. She only wished she could legit use it as an excuse.

She started scrubbing like a madwoman, wanting the heinous chore over and done with. This was the downside of cooking a decent meal. It also didn’t help that Rhett was still next to her and he had suddenly decided it made sense to run his tongue along her bare shoulder. His tongue. On her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she asked shrilly.

He didn’t bother to answer.

Of course he didn’t answer. He didn’t seem to think being polite was necessary when it came to sexual advances. Yet he cleaned up plates, opened her car door, and treated her with respect. How in the hell was a woman supposed to respond to that?

Well, Shawn’s response was to let out a little involuntary moan. She didn’t mean to. But that licking was so suggestive, so intimate, as his tongue traced the path of her clavicle bone up to her neck where he nuzzled into her flesh. How could she stay immune to that? Only a robot could remain unaffected, and hell, even a robot might short-circuit it was that hot.

Then he stepped back. “Here, I’ll rinse, and then we can watch a movie.”

On. Off. On. Off. He was killing her.

“Sure. Great idea.” Mr. Suckity-Suck. He was doing this on purpose, she was convinced. He would rev her engine, then stay in park. He wanted her to cave, to beg him to have sex with her. That was not going to happen, no matter what her lady parts had to say about it.

So she held strong as they sat on her sofa together, perilously close, his hand stroking across her thigh. He chose a thriller to watch, but it also had several steamy sex scenes in it, with lots of moaning and dewy skin, and arching backs as the hero of the movie pumped hard into his love interest. The woman was clearly enjoying it, given her pronounced moans and bouncing breasts, but Shawn wasn’t feeling it.