Lip Lock: Country Fever, Book 2 (15 page)

Brant gripped her hips and tugged her to the edge of the vinyl seat. Nudging her legs apart, he planted himself between them. And rubbed.

“Fuck… Brant, we’ll never make it to the party.”

He sucked the skin on her throat. “What party, baby? When I’m with you, I only know this.” He stared into her eyes, too deeply. That caress felt more intimate than the dozens of other touches of the past few weeks. In that simple look, she thought she saw his heart, bared and open, lying in her palm.

She closed her fingers tenderly over his shoulders and shut her eyes. He rubbed his forehead over hers, brushing noses and infusing her with his scent.

“Thank you for agreeing to come,” he said gruffly. Then, pulling her to her feet, he led her toward the bike. “Now…” He let the word trail off, but the sound of it reminded her of that interlude on the hood of his car, his demand she take all of him when he said that one little syllable.

He swung his gaze her way, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth as if he knew what she was thinking. “Now I want to see you mount this bike and wrap those thighs around me.”

Her stomach hollowed a bit at the thought of getting on the back or putting on the feminine helmet that waited for her. But wrapping her arms and legs around him? Yes, that’s exactly what she needed.

At her hesitation, he stared at her hard. “What’s wrong? You nervous about riding?”

“You’re not one of these guys with six cars, are you?”

He blinked at her.

Her heart squeezed. “You are.”

Taking a step forward, he spiraled an arm around her waist. “Nah, I sometimes swap vehicles with a friend of mine.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now you know you want to wrap your legs around all this engine. So get on. But first, let’s protect this pretty little head.” He plucked the helmet from the seat and settled it gently over her skull. A brand-new smell drifted from it.

“Oh, good. It fits. I hoped it would.” A boyish grin stretched over his face, etching lines in the perfect places. Without thinking, she reached up and smoothed her thumb over the bracket around his mouth.

His stare sharpened to an intense, heavy-lidded invitation—the same she saw from him in the bedroom. Pressing closer, he trapped her between the bike and his body. Why was there always a vehicle of some sort involved in their foreplay? It could make her a connoisseur in little time.

“You know I’m crazy about you, baby, don’t you?”

Her head told her to break eye contact, but her heart and body wouldn’t listen. In fact, those two systems took over completely. She felt herself leaning into him, rubbing seductively even as her heart blossomed with warmth.

He kissed her neck, a swift, scorching touch that left her shaking and her nipples aching. Before she could even release a gasp, he withdrew. Jamming his helmet over his perfectly mussed hair, he shot her a bad boy smile to match the current image, and then hitched a leg over the seat.

Judging by his ease, she thought he’d be just at home in a Ferrari, a monster truck or on horseback. Brant Foxfire wasn’t just the stuffy professional she’d originally thought.

Did that also mean this relationship might head in a direction unlike hers and Kent’s?

When she didn’t move to climb on behind him, Brant’s voice infiltrated her head through a speaker in the helmet. “Get on, sweetheart. I promise not to bite. Yet.”

Shivering at the promise, she swung her leg over the high seat. He reached back and gripped her thighs, dragging her right up against him.

“I want your pussy against me, grinding on me as we go around every corner.”

Her shaky sigh must have transmitted through the speaker into his helmet, because he laughed. “Wrap your arms around me, Hayley.” He revved the engine and shot off through the gravel.

She squealed as she rocked back, and then clung tighter to his waist. The wind struck her body, and she found herself grinning. But when they hit the first turn, she didn’t expect the friction of cloth against her pussy.

A quiet moan left her.

“Feels good, baby? I’d love to make you come this way. Get those panties off and a skirt up around your hips, the hum of the bike vibrating you and your folds rubbing against my back.”

“You keep talking like that, it won’t take more than your words.”

Under her fingers, his chest shook with a groan. “I’d like to see how far I can take that.”

She was unable to speak through her thick haze of want. But there was much more than lust between them, and they both knew it. Only she wasn’t talking, and he was taking his cue from her.

Then again…

“You make me want to drive until we run out of road, Hayley. I don’t want to stop this bike and share you with my friends at the party. Don’t want to lose you to the crowd. And I sure as hell never want to stop feeling your arms around me.”

A lump wedged itself in her throat, making it impossible to swallow. She closed her eyes and let his voice continue in her head.

“I’ve been alone a long time because I was reluctant to waste my time on someone who isn’t worth it. The day I saw you, that hesitation fled, baby. I knew you’d be worth it, and I was right. So right.”

She skimmed a hand up the hard plane of his chest, flattening it over the place where his heart beat a staccato to the tune of the motorcycle engine. Speaking was out of the question, but everything in her screamed to tell him that she couldn’t wait to wake up every day, anticipating how he’d track her down and make her defenses fall.

Shock tore through her. In all her avoidance, she was simply waiting for him to prove how much he wanted her by busting through all her roadblocks. Was it possible that she was ready to open her heart completely?

As the road stretched before them, she held on tight and let her mind wander.

Chapter Eleven

Brant burst into Anecdote, cock throbbing and heart drumming wildly at the thought of seeing Hayley. “Where is she?” he asked Andrea without small talk.

“Out of town for Drake’s game.”

His stomach hollowed out. “Where?” he managed to get past his tight lips. She didn’t tell him. Not a hint to let him know he couldn’t spend time with her today. Yesterday at the outdoor party, he’d felt her opening to him, unfolding like a flower. Then snap! The damn Venus Fly Trap trick.

Andrea named a place in the next county, and Brant’s annoyance grew. Thanking her, he headed outside. The heat of the day struck him full force, plastering his shirt right to his now-perspiring skin. This only agitated him further. Now he’d have to sit in his office feeling rumpled and in need of a shower while nursing a hard-on for a woman who obviously wasn’t as into him as he was her.

“Shit.”

Fishing his cell from his dress pants, he stabbed the button that called her number. After five rings, her voicemail came on, filling his head with her sultry tone that only made him ache more.

Drawing a deep breath, he tried to get his head on straight. How to spend a lunch break without the all-engulfing kisses shared in the backroom of Anecdote? Or crowded around a small table in the coffee shop?

A stab of worry ran through him. She hadn’t told him about the away game or the day off work. Was there an underlying reason why not or had it slipped her mind?

I wasn’t exactly honest either
.

When faced with her obvious displeasure that he’d have more than a vehicle or two, he’d lied about his motorcycle. While he and his friend sometimes exchanged keys for a change of pace, the bike was Brant’s.

Depression and concern weighted his steps. Without her around, he’d have to fill his time in another way—by actually working. His practice didn’t need his attention—it was a well-oiled machine. But he’d been putting off the details of the upcoming real estate purchase. Paperwork to be signed, calls to be made.

And he needed to plan an evening trip to the home improvement store. That night he’d run across Hayley, he’d actually been on a mission to pick something up for Steve when he’d become distracted.

His office was silent at this time of day, as all his employees were out for lunch. Only the low hiss of machinery sounded as he made his way to his personal office. Opening his door onto heaps of paperwork and files, he ran a hand over his face. Weeks of neglect here, so he could be with the little blonde vixen who’d taken up residence in his heart.

Yes, he was tired of fighting his need to admit he was in love with her. The only thing holding him back was her reaction. If he said the words, he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t run out on him as fast as her sexy legs would carry her. She’d walk, all right. Almost as fast as she would if he gave in to his more deviant sexual desires.

With a huffing sigh, he sank into his plush leather chair. For a long minute, he just stared at the surface of his desk, which was completely obliterated by papers. For now, Hayley was in another town and not answering his calls, so he had no choice but to dig through the heap.

Searching through files, making notes about this property or that, visions of their previous night together haunted him. She’d fucking gone down on him when they’d stopped on a back road on the way to the party. Blown his goddamn mind.

Images of her lashes lying on her cheeks as she drew on his length threatened to steal his senses. He could nearly feel his head nudging the back of her throat, that tormenting tongue wrapped around his veined cock.

Leaning back in his chair, he pinched the head hard to stave off the throb of want. Where was she now, and what was she doing? It wasn’t unusual to have a baseball game in the middle of the day, but on a weekday? A workday? It had to be some special event. Either that or she was lying, just as she had when he’d discovered her in the stain aisle at the home improvement store.

Technically, she had been getting stain, but it bothered him that she eluded him so easily. Because all he wanted was to be in her life, deeply entrenched. And maybe to show her every hidden side of himself.

No, if she glimpsed that man, she’d slip through his fingers like smoke.

He jerked a stack of papers toward him. If everything went as planned, the deal would close on the building in a couple days’ time. As he took up a pen and scrawled his signature across sheet after sheet of paper, he couldn’t help but wonder when he’d be able to seal the deal with Hayley. If ever.

Headlights blared into the cab of the truck, washing Drake’s sleeping form in the eerie blue light. His head bumped off the window but he slumbered on, oblivious in the way only kids were.

He’d pitched like a pro, had two hits to deep center and shook the hands of several college and major league scouts. If not for the presence of those scouts, Hayley might have insisted that Drake skip the game. She wouldn’t ordinarily let him out of school for baseball, but he’d been specially invited to join the best of the best in the state for the day. She couldn’t really afford to take off work—she’d given up a day’s wages to give him a better chance.

But it was risky. Now her income was down for the month, and she was already behind too. The only happiness she could muster at the moment was for a stack of business cards in her pocket, printed with the names of scouts who wanted her son.

If she couldn’t fulfill her own dream of becoming more, she’d damn well give the chance to her son.

Several times during the day, she’d checked her cell, only to find missed messages from Brant. He’d called six times. On the seventh, he’d just ended the call without saying a word.

Did that mean he’d finally given up on her? After six tries, she wasn’t worth it.

Worrying her lip, she focused on the road. She’d get Drake home and into bed, and then maybe she’d give Brant a call.

Her body pulsed to life. No, she wanted much more than a midnight conversation. She wanted to be in his bed. And straddling him. And face down on the mattress with his fist wrapped around her braid.

Heat clawed at her insides. She glanced at the dash clock—about the only thing that worked right in the whole truck. And thank goodness for that, because it let her know they’d be home before eleven.

Those miles had never seemed so long. By the time she pulled into the small lot in front of her apartment, she was burning.

Drake twitched to life, slurring, “What’s up?”

“Home, Drake. Come on inside and hit the sheets.”

So I can run to Brant’s and do the same
. She could keep Brant up all night, since he could sleep in on Saturday morning.

Inside the apartment, she tore off her dusty, sweaty clothes and threw on a simple sundress. For a long minute, she lingered over the contents of her panty drawer. Then with a smile, she abandoned it, deciding to go commando instead.

Drake was just swishing with mouthwash when she met him in the hallway. “I’m going out for a bit. You just go to bed and get a good rest. I was really proud of you today.”

He gave her a tired, one-armed hug on his way to his room. At the door, he stopped and smiled—a smile full of metal, installed by Brant’s own hand. “Just wake me up by ten tomorrow. I want to meet up with the guys at the ball park for a game.”

“I’ll do that. Love you, Drake.” Though he never said it back anymore, she couldn’t let it go.