Seducing the Playboy (A Hot Nights Series Book) (Entangled Brazen) (3 page)

The rapid ping of responses made her smile through her tears. She wasn’t as alone as she felt. Lila’s response was typically supportive.
Not possible
. Betsy, as usual, wanted more information.
What happened?

He doesn’t want my desserts. Nothing else to bargain with. Suggestions?

Fresh out.
She wasn’t surprised. Lila had her hands full creating a menu for a soon-to-open New York restaurant while torturing the jackass chef as much as possible.

Did you tell him about Cooper’s?
Which is what Betsy had been suggesting all along.

He turned me down before I got the chance.

You have to tell him. And then make him an offer he can’t refuse. Naked?
Betsy’s response suited her hometown of New Orleans and was curiously in sync with the thought that had just crossed her mind…

This ain’t over yet. I’ll keep you posted.

She tucked her phone into her pocket and lifted her face to the breeze, filling every corner of her lungs with the scent of salt, and wet, living things. The sun was heading for the horizon and the beach had a warm glow. Her spirits lifted as the last rays of the day warmed her face, chest, and arms. In a minute, the breeze would overwhelm the sun, and she’d have to put her jacket back on, but for now, she would revel in the freedom of being far from home and facing the infinity of the ocean. She might be a long way from Lambertville and the banks of the Delaware River, but with her feet rooted in the sand and the endless waves of the Pacific rolling up to kiss her ankles, she felt anything was possible.

She’d been shaken by his refusal, but she wasn’t giving up.

Naked, huh?
Her heart fluttered and she bit her lip. She had another opportunity to convince Roman to hire her at the beach party tonight. If she could just get him alone, she could give it another shot…and make damn sure he never thought of her as Cole’s little sister again.

Chapter Two

“You coming to the party?” Max had a six-pack in his hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” Alone in the kitchen, Roman mentally kicked himself for the umpteenth time that night. Inviting Jenna to the party had been idiotic. If he was going to see her again, it should be in broad daylight, surrounded by people who knew he didn’t seduce his employees.

She isn’t my employee.

But she’s still Cole’s little sister,
the better half of him protested.

He groaned aloud. Was he really standing here arguing with himself?

Grabbing a bottle of wine and two plastic cups, he followed Max out the door, trying not to remember the touch of Jenna’s hand, her lips on his cheek, or the way her desserts had made his mouth water and his body crave satisfaction. The beach spread out before him like a slippery slope.

“Tell me again why you didn’t hire that pastry chef?” Max asked when Roman caught up with him outside.

“Don’t start.”

“Dude, we blew through every single one of her desserts. I made as many Beach Warmers to go as I made entrées. She’s a genius.”

“Anybody can make hot chocolate and cookies. I’ll show you tomor—” He saw Jenna walking toward them and sucked in a stunned breath.

Beside him, Max chuckled. “I understand why you didn’t hire her now, and I commend you, even if I don’t share your scruples about sleeping around at work. The only thing that could possibly be better than eating her desserts is eating—”

Roman shot an elbow into his side, making Max laugh harder as he headed down the beach.

The crowd was strung out in loose groups across the Boardwalk, but the sound of guitars, laughter, and the rush of waves faded into the background as Jenna moved toward him.

She was wearing jeans and some sort of black, lacy corset that showcased her magnificent breasts underneath a half-zipped jacket. The contrast between her bundled up body and her exposed cleavage was obscene—and electrifying. Every man she passed continued to stare.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he demanded.

“Clothes.”

“That’s not a shirt. It’s a walking invitation to steal second base.”

“Oh, please. Not everyone thinks of me as a kid sister.” She rolled her eyes. “Where’s your sense of fun?”

His jaw dropped. Every cell of his body wanted to show her how much fun he could be. He closed his eyes, drawing long, slow, deep breaths until he felt he could speak without saying something he would regret.

“Max looks like he’s having fun.” Her laugh was soft and far too close for comfort.

He opened his eyes to see Max with three women in bikinis racing for the water. She unzipped her jacket and shrugged out of it. “Looks like a good idea to me. I wore my suit, just in case.”

She sauntered across the Boardwalk, heading for the water.

He stared after her.

Half of him wanted to find a blanket and cover her from head to foot. The other half of him, the half that was holding a bottle of wine, wanted to be under that blanket with her.
She’s all grown up.
As if reading his mind, she glanced over her shoulder in unmistakable invitation before she stepped out of her shoes and slowly pushed her jeans over her hips and down to her ankles. His gaze slipped over the sexy ties of her corset, down to her perfect ass, barely covered by a black bikini bottom. Her hair caught the moonlight, glowing as she waded into the water.

“Fuck it.” He was going in. It would be just his luck she’d get caught in the undertow and drown. Her brother would kill him.

Jogging to the beach, he set the wine down in the sand next to her clothes. Swiftly, he stripped down to his boardshorts, leaving his belongings in a heap next to hers. The water was cold, but he barely felt it. Max and the women giggled a little farther out. Jenna was in up to her thighs, shrieking with laughter every time a wave hit.

“Not too far out,” he warned. “It’s all fun and games until somebody drowns.”

“Spoilsport.” She bent down and splashed him with icy water.

“Undertow.” He thrashed toward her.

She moved into deeper water, and he gave chase. When he reached her side, he swept her feet out from under her with his leg and caught her in his arms. He lifted her above the water. “Give me one good reason not to dunk you,” he threatened.

She clung to his shoulders. “I’ll tell my mother.”

“Liar.” He allowed her feet to slide back into the water, but he didn’t let her go.

She wouldn’t tell her mother, just as he hadn’t contacted Cole when she arrived. The push and pull had been going on inside him all night, and he should have texted her brother by now. Instead he was half-naked on the beach, holding her in his arms. Guilt flared, but it wasn’t strong enough to overpower the hot pleasure of touching her. He smoothed his hands down her back, fitting her cold body into the curve of his.

No. I can’t do this
.

Then she pressed closer, sliding her hands up his chest to caress his shoulders, and he forgot why he wasn’t supposed to touch her. He clasped her waist, keeping them balanced against the breaking waves. The subtle shift of her hips told him she was aware of his erection, insistent despite the cold water.
All grown up…
Stark desire tightened his grip as he fought the urge to haul her into the air and wrap her legs around his waist. The need to kiss her was dizzying, almost blinding. He bent his head, seeing flashes of blue and red, a pop of white.

A whisper before their lips touched, she gasped. “Roman, police!”

The panic in her voice broke through his haze of lust.

“Shit.” Getting caught swimming after hours on the beach probably wasn’t a good idea when he was trying to prove he was responsible enough to run the company. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the water, moving parallel to the shore. If they could get far enough down the beach, they could slip away from the drama. She pulled him back the other way.

“Our clothes,” she reminded him. “Keys. Phone. Wallet.”

“Right.” He pointed down the beach. “My house is that way. Keep moving. I’ll grab our stuff.”

As he moved toward the sand, he saw a bonfire a short ways up the beach and cursed. No wonder the cops had arrived. There were only a couple of beaches in Los Angeles that permitted fires, and Venice was not one of them. The cops might have ignored the illegal party, but not a fire. He bent to snatch their clothes and the wine out of the sand. He slipped back toward the ocean.

Jenna was fast and had almost reached the cut through to his house by the time he caught up with her. He handed over her jeans and shoes and struggled into his own. “This way.” They crossed the Boardwalk, and then Speedway, and scurried up the blocks to his house. He opened the privacy gate and motioned her through. When they reached the porch, he set her jacket and the wine on a chair so he could locate his keys. “Come on, let’s get you warm.”

She paused at the door. “I’m covered in sand.”

He shrugged. “Welcome to the beach. I’ll clean it up later.”

Still, she bent to brush at her jeans. He should do the same, but instead he watched her. The lust that had gripped him in the water returned full force as her breasts nearly popped out of her top. She took off her shoes and whisked sand from her feet, making him grit his teeth and clench his fists. Her gaze darted to his legs.

“Here, let me.” Before he could step away, she crouched in front of him, brushing sand from his pants. He was half-hard already and the sight of her in perfect blow job position did him in. Any second she was going to glance up and…

A sultry smile tilted her lips as her hands slid slowly up his thighs. With shock, he realized she was teasing him deliberately. He reached down to grasp her shoulders and then hauled her to her feet. “In you go, Goldilocks.” He unlocked the door and opened it.

She didn’t budge. “Enough with the fairy tales, unless you want to play Big Bad Wolf.”

Her words were bold, but a shiver shook her shoulders. She was gritting her teeth, probably to keep them from chattering. He took a step closer to her, crowding her in the doorway. Attraction crackled between them, so intense he shuddered, too. The desire to take her into the house, strip her down, and warm her up with something other than a hot shower and a stiff drink was almost irresistible, but this was Jenna. She deserved better than that. “Get in the house. You’re freezing.”

She didn’t move. “I beg to differ. I’m actually feeling pretty hot.”

She was hot all right, but her lips were turning blue. Her thin smile faltered, and he glimpsed something in her dark eyes that looked like doubt. Why was she pressing on when she was clearly uncomfortable? A chill skated down his already cold spine. Was she standing on his porch in fetish wear because he had refused to hire her? Had she guessed he was attracted to her and was trying to use it to her advantage? Did she think he was that easy?

She should know better than to play games with a guy like him, and he was tempted to teach her a lesson.

He let the door slam shut. Her eyes widened as he flattened her against the side of the house and grabbed a fistful of her damp curls. He drew her head back, baring her throat. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her hips cradled his thigh. He stared down at her mouth, watched her tongue flick out to wet her lips, and wanted to lick them himself. If she were anyone else, they’d have been naked by now. He’d be kissing her, tasting her, burying himself inside her, but Jenna wasn’t a meaningless one-night stand. A hot wave of frustration arced through him.

He brought his free hand up to lightly clasp her throat. “To little girls like you, I am the Big Bad Wolf,” he growled. “Tempt me, and I’ll eat you.”

She swallowed, hard, against his hand, but her eyes flashed. “Promises, promises.”

His body tightened. She had to know she was playing with fire. What was her agenda? She grasped his arms and rose up on her toes, lifting one bent leg to brush his hip, bringing their hips into perfect contact. He released her hair and grabbed her thigh, crushing her body to his. “You are playing a dangerous game.”

She shook her head. “Not a game,” she whispered.

He didn’t believe her. Her soft body fit tightly against his hard-on, their jeans providing little barrier. His cock throbbed in the cradle of her thighs, and she rocked against him, making him even harder. She had him pegged—he was that easy. But he had her pegged, too. She was up to something, and he wasn’t above playing dirty to get her to tell him what it was.

…

Jenna’s heart pounded. This was better than any of her fantasies, even though she was freezing her ass off. Hypothermia seemed a small price to pay for being half-naked and wrapped around Roman. She’d been so desperate to kiss him on the beach, she’d almost ignored the cops but now she was glad she hadn’t. Being alone with him at his house was a dream come true.

He reached down to grip her other thigh and lifted her into the air. She clutched his shoulders for balance and wrapped her legs around his waist as he flung open the front door and carried her into the house. He released her legs and she slid slowly to the floor. She couldn’t prevent a reflexive shiver as the warmer temperature of his house began to thaw her chill.

“Still not cold?” He raised one eyebrow, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

She shook her head. “Definitely not.” Why wasn’t he kissing her yet? He couldn’t possibly move this slowly with women all the time, considering his wild reputation.

She pressed closer, reassured when she felt his erection, hard against her belly. Linking her fingers behind his neck, she tugged him down until they were so close any movement, even speaking, would bring their lips together. Then she kissed him.

He took control, and triumph soared through her, a sunburst of heat that weakened her knees. His mouth was hard, and his hands moved roughly over her, lighting fires. There was no awkward bumping of noses or teeth, no tentative exploration that gave her too much time to wonder if she was doing it right. His lips took hers, tongue thrusting in an aggressive rhythm that echoed the instinctive movement of her pelvis against his thigh. He cupped her buttocks, moving her back and forth on his leg in blatant encouragement. She held him tighter, whimpering when his fingers found the hook-and-eye closures on the side of the corset she’d purchased at the Hustler store in Hollywood after dinner.

She held still, expecting him to fumble. When he skillfully popped open the long line of hooks, she couldn’t stifle a gasp. Of course he would know how to unfasten lingerie. She pushed away thoughts of how much experience it would take to learn how to strip a woman this fast and focused on the fact
she
was with him tonight.

Unease stole through her, and she shivered. Now that the moment had arrived, she was nervous.
Damn it, this never happens in my fantasies.
She held her breath as he popped the last hook, suppressing an urge to grab the edges of the corset and hold it together. Roman lifted his head. His eyes were hot and his jaw was tight. God, she hoped he couldn’t tell she was nervous. She wanted this, no matter what her stupid nerves were saying. Resolutely, she grasped the front of her corset and tugged it away from her body.

His gaze dipped to her breasts. A low groan rippled through his body as he crushed her to his chest. She felt him throb against her belly, and a sharp jolt of answering arousal surged through her. He bent to take her mouth again, caressing her breast with one hand and tangling the other in her hair. She went mindless, every half-formed reservation vanishing in a puff of hot smoke as his thumb brushed back and forth over the tip of her breast, the delicious friction shooting heat to her belly and between her thighs. He released her hair and cupped her ass, lifting her against the wall. He balanced her midair, thrusting one leg between hers. The slight movement of his hips kept time with the teasing thrusts of his tongue, making her burn.

She gripped his shoulders. “Roman, please…”

He froze and then stepped back, growling. Her feet hit the floor, and he caught her around the waist, steadying her. “Come on.”