His Kind of Perfect (Sugar Bay #1) (8 page)

“Not until after.”

“What if you’re a sore loser and try to
stiff me?”

She rolled her eyes. “I would never.”

“Come on…a little kiss, as forfeit.”

Her grip on the pool cue tightened. She
couldn’t believe she was considering his request. Derek’s gaze remained hot and
steady as he waited. Each breath caused her dress to abrade her nipples, the
pointed buds stood at painful attention. She glanced around at the few patrons
scattered around.

“You’re safe. We’re in a public bar. Not
much can happen.”

Did that mean, had they been alone, she
wouldn’t be safe? She
hesitated,
the only sound
between them was the nervous bounce of the pool cue, evidence of her tension.
He placed his hands over hers and stilled the movement. He pushed her knees
apart and stepped between them. Her heart skipped a beat before it took off in
a pounding rhythm.

“Are you’re reneging?” He shook his head in
mock disappointment. “Anabelle, Anabelle…” he whispered in her ear.

She exhaled in a rush. “Okay then, one
quick peck.”

“Hmmm…if that’s all you can do.” His eyes
mocked her. He’d heard her tirade today. He knew she wanted to break free of
the good girl expectations. “Come on, wild thing,” he whispered. They locked gazes,
a showdown of who would blink first commenced.

She lost.

Derek tugged the pool cue she kept between them,
but she refused to let go. Its presence served as protection. He smiled and let
her keep her delusions. Instead he leaned close, crowding her once again.

“Your move.” He lifted a brow, his smile
daring her to make the first move.

She licked her dry lips and his gaze darkened.
She inched closer and placed her free palm on his shirt. The cool, crisp cotton
contrasted with the heat that emanated from his body.

The memory of a shirtless Derek teased her,
demanded that she satisfy her curiosity. There would be no other opportunity. She
pressed against him.

His sharp inhale demanded her attention and
she caught her breath at the hunger in his heavy lidded eyes. He remained still,
his muscles locked while she explored, smoothing a path up from his chest.
The mounds of hard muscles so different from hers.

 
She snaked a hand behind his neck, pulled
him down to her level while he waited in silence. She saw the question in his
eyes. She knew he wasn’t certain she would follow through. For a second, she
closed her eyes, committing the moment to memory. She would relive each second over
and over again in private.

The clean scent of soap, peppermint and hot
male wrapped itself around her. For the rest of her life, she would associate Irish
Spring with this man.

Derek shifted closer and placed his palms
below her waist, his hand burned through the thin material. She shuddered, her
resolve to ensure distance between them weakened but then she remembered his
age, her mother’s censure, and the small town gossip she couldn’t escape.

She nudged the pool cue between them.
“Hands on the stick.” She glared in case he thought she was kidding. She
wasn’t. She was tired of being the subject of pity and gossip. He eyed her in
amusement but
obliged,
only nudging it a little to the
left so he could see her better.

Her gaze slipped to his lips. The firm, sensuous
flesh beckoned. It would be easy to get lost in his kiss. The public venue
would ensure nothing untoward could happen. This was her chance to discover
what a kiss with a heterosexual man entailed.

Still, she waited. Indecision gripped her.
Want and fear warred inside her.

A quick glance at his expression told her
he’d wait as long as she needed. He seemed to understand she was on the cusp of
change.

Her eyelids drifted closed, she stretched
and brushed her lips against his.

Once.

Twice.

She pulled back and waited for his
reaction.

A smile flirted at his mouth. He licked his
lips. “You call that a kiss?”

She narrowed her eyes.

“That was pathetic.”

So for all the spinsters in the world, all
the forgotten ones, all the wallflowers who yearned to be a part of the game,
she closed her eyes and let her inner slut loose.

Derek groaned against her lips.

Son of a bitch.

He’d long suspected Anabelle was a
reservoir of untapped fire, but this kiss…it was beyond his expectations. It
was hot, wet and luscious. Tongues tangled, teeth grazed until they found the
perfect angle, lips were nibbled then bitten, before the hurt was sucked away. Anabelle
climbed his chest and he urged her with his free hand. The other still held the
damn pool cue so tight, he was afraid he might break the thing. He was glad
she’d insisted on her “protection” because that was the only thing saving them
from public indecency.

Anabelle was a closet sensualist.

Have
mercy.

Somehow he found the willpower to break
their kiss. It wasn’t easy but if they got arrested for lewd and lascivious
behavior, she’d retreat into her shell again and never come out. After a year
of waiting, he didn’t want to start at square one again.

The sight of her soft, swollen lips parted
in welcome made him groan. He dropped his head for one last kiss when the sound
of breaking glass stopped him and he was never more grateful for the intrusion.
Slowly the sound of their harsh breathing was overridden by the chattering of
patrons, the clanging of the glasses and since it was retro night, the snarling
of Def Leopard singing about pouring some sugar.

“Derek—“

“Annabelle, please. Give me a second.” He
held her away and focused on breathing.

She blinked a few times, almost like she
didn’t know what had happened. He wanted to laugh but he couldn’t, his body was
in too much pain. The next few moments were spent reigning control over his aroused
body.

When he succeeded, he let go of the damn
stick and stepped away from temptation. The mindless chore of applying chalk to
the pool cue helped to remind him of the ultimate prize. Because he wanted that
more than anything, he needed to focus on winning.

“Where were we?”

Anabelle blinked. To say she was bemused
was an understatement. His transition from their scorching hot kiss to business
as usual was lightning fast while her pace was more like a dehydrated turtle
lumbering along, sort of pathetic.

The moment she slid off the table her legs
wobbled. Not good. She corrected herself and reached for the pool chalk. Two
could play at this.

The game had taken on additional meaning. For
her, the stakes were high. If she lost, the temptation to kiss him again may be
too much and if she ended up throwing herself at him and became the source of pity,
it would change the dynamics between them.

If he lost, he’d donate to a worthy cause.

She had more to lose so she had to win. Their
single kiss had singed all her working brain cells to the point she was still
off balanced. There was no way she’d survive another. She’d go down in a blaze
of unadulterated lustful glory, which wouldn’t do at all.

Gone was the charmer with an easy smile and
warm gaze; in his place was a man clearly focused on his mission. From the hard
look in his eyes, his forfeit may be more than a single kiss.

She shivered and he shot her a glance.

His carnal look scorched her and she inhaled
sharply. A quiet and watchful Derek was new. His desire to win was evident in
his every move, efficient, purposeful. He didn’t plan on losing.

Too
darn bad.

He wouldn’t get an easy victory from her.
Game on.

She stalked to the edge and searched for
any and all angles of attack.

Silence ruled their corner of Finn’s.

He was still ahead so he took his aim,
pocketing an easy one. The next shot was more difficult. As he took aim,
Anabelle tripped.

“Oops.”

He gave her a narrow eyed glare after he
missed his target.

She shrugged. “Sue me, I’m clumsy.”

Regardless of the cheating, it was her turn
and she moved into play, lining up her shot. Two more and she’d win. The first sank
in quickly
;
the soft
thunk
, music to her ears. She grinned and heard him growl.

One more and all that was left was the black
eight ball. Easy peasy. She’d done it a million times.

She leaned into position, being careful to
line up her shot. Just like her daddy taught her, she inhaled, pulling the pool
cue back, the movement nice and easy. As she was about to exhale and follow
through, an eyelash fell into her eye and she jerked, blinking hard to clear
the sting. The pool cue, already in motion, misfired and sent the cue ball off
course, slamming into the black eight ball. Anabelle watched in horrified
silence as the black eight ball rolled with unerring accuracy straight into the
corner pocked with a resounding clunk.

Son
of a bitch.

Son
of a bitch
.

He’d won.

He’d been certain he was done
for,
she’d been fierce in her desire to win. That she’d
reverted to cheating because she didn’t want to lose was ego busting but he
preferred to think she was passionate about her charity rather than not want to
pay him a forfeit.

He snuck a glance at her and almost laughed
at the horror on her beautiful face.

Yep. Ego busting.

True, it was a crappy way to lose and if
there hadn’t been a forfeit at stake, one he wanted badly, he’d have
commiserated with her. Instead, he had a hard time keeping a goofy grin off his
face.

Yep. Losing sucked, no doubt about it, but
winning with a possibility of seeing more of Anabelle…priceless and he’d take any
win, any way.

“Good game.” She stuck her hand out to
shake his hand. He grinned because the lines of her body and the scowl on her
face were the antithesis of her actions.

Good
sportsmanship his ass
.

He took her small hand in his and she
pumped once before she stalked away to put the cues back on the wall rack. She
looked ready to break a pool stick over her knee yet she lined the cues, spun
each so the brand name lined up front and center, bless her little OCD heart.

Who knew his little Anabelle was so
competitive. His smile widened at the thought of that single mindedness in bed.
He whistled tunelessly and chuckled at the glare she sent his way. He winked
and in turn, she bared her teeth, and stalked out without waiting for him to
follow.

He did because nothing could stop him from
following the sight of her luscious bottom. He sauntered behind at a slower
pace and enjoyed the view. The night kept getting better and better.

The brisk clip of heels against the
pavement reiterated the fact she wanted to get this night over with as soon as
possible. An ornery part of him slowed his walk to half time pace. He could almost
see the steam rise from her head.

“I’ll follow you home.”

“Not necessary,” she said, almost snarling and
he tried not to smile.

“There is the small matter of payment.”

“Really? What kind of forfeit do you plan
to collect?”

“A small token but we’ll discuss it when I
see you home. I promised Bow Tie, remember?”

She looked ready to argue but stopped when
she saw how serious he was. Smart girl got in her little white Prius while he
hurried to his truck.

Ten minutes later they pulled up to her
house and parked in the driveway. He studied the family friendly neighborhood
filled with small to medium sized houses. Oak trees lined the street while
blossom-loaded crepe myrtles dotted the manicured yards. It looked like
something out of a sitcom where everyone was well versed in everyone else’s
business and had monthly progressive dinners.

She slammed her door and faced him over the
roof. “You’ve done your duty and seen me home.”

“I’ll see you in.” As hot as their kiss had
gotten at the bar, he didn’t want curious eyes on them when he collected his
forfeit.

She gave him
a
squinty look but kept quiet, heading to her front door. He followed, noticing
the solar lights she’d installed along the walk. Her front porch was well lit
without deep shadows for intruders to hide. He nodded, satisfied. Force of
habit he supposed with two sisters and three nieces, he always scanned for
proper safety measures.

She opened the door and he followed her inside.
A small lamp had been left on and she tossed her purse and keys onto a silver
tray on the side table. She turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest.

Nope she wasn’t happy with him.

“Ok, let’s get on with it.”

He raised an eyebrow at her word choice and
she flushed. She kicked off her heels, the clatter loud on the reclaimed wood
floors.

“How was your date with Bow Tie?”

“Heath?” She seemed surprised by the
question, as if she’d already forgotten her date.

He
nodded,
please
the guy hadn’t made a stronger impression. He hadn’t wanted to mention the
competition but he needed her to relax. Her body language screamed defense, a
far cry from the woman who’d scorched him earlier. He wanted that woman back.

She shrugged. “Fine.”

“Plan on seeing him again?”

“Maybe. I’ve got plans for him.”

He rocked back on his heels and bit back
the urge to growl. “Tell me he’s not your choice for hot and sweaty sex?”

She blushed at the reminder of her outburst
but didn’t deny it.

“What about me?”

“What about you?” He didn’t like the blasé
tone she used as if he wasn’t on her radar at all.

“Try me on for size.”

She gasped and he tried not to wince. It
wasn’t his best line but the thought of her doing Bow Tie made him sick. “Why
have sex with a virtual stranger when I’m available. I’m safe. No diseases. No
awkwardness. I could be your sexual tutor to dirty, wild sex.”

She looked horrified and Derek
couldn’t stand it. She looked like she’d discovered something she’d rather not.
He felt like all the progress he’d made tonight was slipping by.

Anabelle opened her mouth,
“Umm…”

Derek didn’t think, all he
knew was he couldn’t let her turn him down. He covered her mouth with his and
swallowed her rejection. He thrust his tongue deep, backing her against her
door, and swallowed her gasp of surprise, grateful there was no pool stick in
the way.

Anabelle could no longer think clearly, her
blood pounded through her body, making it hard to breath. His big body crushed
her against the door and his mouth devoured hers. A hard ridge pressed against
her and she knew she’d find his mark the next day because of his fierce grip on
her hips. The pressure from his thighs widened her stance as his hips found its
home between her thighs. An answering heat that burned from the very heart of
her welcomed him. The long length of him pressed against her soft belly and she
shuddered, the feeling foreign yet decadent. While he demanded, she surrendered,
tangling her legs along his. Her body melted with desire.

The black jersey of her dress and the denim
of his jeans stopped her from feeling him skin on skin and she hated it. She
wanted to feel his body pressed against hers. Wanted his heat. Wanted his long,
hard length rub against her.

She moaned.

Hot and sensitive, her body was in an
almost painful state. She needed relief. Her nipples yearned for his attention,
the tips bullet hard and engorged. As if he knew what she wanted, his hands
moved up slowly from her hips, along her waist before moving,
praise God
, to cup her breast. She
hissed her pleasure.

He kissed her as if he wanted to inhale
her. She arched into the kiss and let him. He tugged on her nipples, strummed, and
tortured them while his tongue slid against hers, making it hard to concentrate.
The raised panel at her back didn’t bother her, not when a hot male covered
her, inhaled her. She turned her head, gasping for much needed air, while he
moved south along her cheek, edging down her neck.

She gasped at the sting of his love bite.
He sucked, laved and soothed her while she groaned. The core of her dripped
with need, she felt hollow, as if she was desperate to be filled.

This wasn’t how she’d envisioned the night
ending.

It was too much yet not enough.

His wicked tongue snaked its way to her
breasts while his palms lifted them, plumped them for his pleasure. The dress
separated them still. She wanted to scream in frustration.

When he’d covered her mouth, she’d been caught
off guard because she’d been prepared to keep things between them professional.
But now she didn’t know why she kept fighting herself. He didn’t need
protection from
her,
he’d instigated this kiss. So
there would be no awkward pitying glances from him. Judging from his body’s
reaction, he was all for exploring a relationship.

Try him
on for size?
Yes, please.

Derek covered her mouth with his. His tongue
stroked along the seam and wicked thoughts of naked bodies and cotton sheets
and slow moving fans filled her mind.

She was wanted. Desired.

A man existed who saw her as sexy.

For a long time she’d felt sexless, almost
invisible to the opposite sex yet with Derek it was different. He made her feel
wanted, and in turn, it made her want to forget responsibilities and
conventions and simply embrace the pleasure of being a woman.

Would that be so wrong?

He could cure for her drought. He was someone
safe to explore with. Derek was right in that while Heath was a nice guy, she
didn’t want him. Not like she wanted Derek. The person she wanted raw,
uninhibited sex with was Derek, not Heath.

Almost as if her brain had fixed itself onto
sex with Derek, the thought of sex with another didn’t seem right. There was nothing
more to consider, she had no choice but to work Derek out of her system.

The spinster in her needed Derek to release
her inner slut. She didn’t want to die never knowing a man’s desire. So far,
the sum of her sexual experience was a man who never truly desired her, never truly
wanted her.

The concept of sexual pleasure with another
was unknown. Solo sex had been the only guarantee of an orgasm. As far as she
was concerned, a male induced orgasm was a fictitious experience created to
sell movies and books.

It was a lie.

An impossibility
.

Or was it?

She wanted to believe in it. Wanted to
believe the fantasy of ecstasy in a man’s arms, his weight, his heat as it
surrounded her.

She pulled back and looked into his heavy
lidded gaze. The sound of their breathing was rough, choppy in the silent room.

“Yes,” she said, sweeping her tongue across
her swollen lips.

“Yes?” His gaze was savage, as he stared
down at her like he wanted to believe she’d agreed but wasn’t sure he’d heard
correctly.

“We have a deal.” She wanted to experience
passion and if sex with him was one tenth the pleasure kissing was
,
she’d be well satisfied.

“Finally.” He grinned. For a moment he
looked young which made her uneasy. Thoughts of the gossip tugged at her.

“We need a few rules though.”

“What kind of rules?” He looked wary. “I’m
the one with experience in this matter so I should be the one making the rules
here.”

“I’m not negating the fact you have more
experience. I’m talking about implementing a time frame.”

“Is that really necessary? Why can’t it
continue until we decide otherwise?”

“Not a good idea.”

“According to you, maybe.”

She shrugged. “You may be the tutor in this
exchange of knowledge, but if you don’t agree to the time limit, there is no
deal.”

“Dammit, woman. A month isn’t long.”

“Well, you’re the expert so you should be
able to work with that.”

He didn’t look happy. He looked fierce,
like he wanted to cart her away but he must have seen an answering stubbornness
in her gaze, so he controlled himself. “Fine. But I reserve the right to try to
change your mind.”

“Try if you’d like, but it won’t happen.”

“Okay but tomorrow night isn’t good. The
girls will be over for the festival and a sleepover. Dylan is picking them up
early Saturday morning so come over for lunch.” He tipped her chin up to meet
her gaze. The look in his eyes was hot. “If we only have a month, I’m making
the most of it and I going to make a few demands of my own and you’re going to
comply. Got it?”

Her knees felt weak but she nodded.

Yes,
please.