The Schemer (Harbor City 3)

He leaned over, pivoting in his seat to look around her to the cement wall on the other side of her door, the move bringing him in closer. “You’re a little near the wall there.”

“Yeah,” she said, shooting him what she hoped was a cool glare, considering how hot she’d grown sitting next to him on the drive home. “My neighbor’s a real ass who talked me into flipping for the better parking spot and left me this P.O.S. parallel parking job.”

He shrugged and settled back against the leather seat, not the least bit regretful. “Sounds fair to me.”

“Of course it does; you won the coin toss.”

“Now, don’t be a sore loser,” he teased as he got out and walked around to her side.

“It’s not too late for me to run you over,” she grumbled as she looked up, way up, at him.

He held out his hand. “Come on, we have a truce tonight.”

“Says who?” she asked as she ignored his hand—because that way lay danger—and got out.

“Said Bernie when he was egging us on to kiss.”

Tyler didn’t move, which left her standing, thankfully, but trapped between the open car door and his six-foot-two-inch frame. They were close, too close. She could smell the fresh, clean scent of his soap and see the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. All that rough would feel so good against my inner thighs. The mental image that accompanied that thought came fast, hard, and unbidden, leaving her body tingling with anticipation. As if that wasn’t enough, she made the mistake of looking the devil directly in the eyes. The bright almost aqua color of his irises had turned to a deep ocean blue and desire had dilated his pupils. Standing this close to him in the parking lot where they’d had their first kiss that had left her hot and needy for days, it tripped something inside her so that what she knew was a very bad idea started to seem like the best one ever. Really it made a kind of twisted sense. There was no way he could be as good as the fantasy, men so rarely were, so all she had to do was demonstrate that fact and poof! The itch would be scratched and everything would go back to normal.

“That man is a menace,” she said, hoping he could hear her because the words were barely audible to her over the thunder of her pulse.

His hot gaze dipped to her mouth. “Doesn’t make him wrong.”

No. It didn’t. So she didn’t think, she acted—kissing him the way she’d been wanting to do all night. It wasn’t nice and soft. It was hot and demanding, and she gave him everything she had and he returned it, teasing and tempting her until there wasn’t anything in the world but them. Everything that had been building between them exploded in a wave of desire that obliterated her better judgment. She wanted—needed—to touch him everywhere, to strip him naked, taste him, feel him, ride him until she could rid herself of this overpowering craving for him.

Ending the kiss with a hard shove to his chest, she sent him stumbling away a few steps until he was even with the back end of the car, and then she reached behind her to close the car’s passenger door without ever taking her eyes off him. He was fucking magnificent with his broad shoulders and heaving muscular chest stretching the limits of the lightweight sweater he was wearing. His blue eyes had a wild look to them, telling of just how close to the edge he was. If she had to bet, she’d guess his toes were dangling over the cliff just like hers were. Her gaze traveled downward, pausing at the visible bulge in his jeans—impressive enough to make her mouth water. That she wanted to see so badly her core clenched. Of all the men in Harbor City, it had to be him who did this to her. And they said the fates had no sense of humor.

Stalking forward, she closed the distance between them, desperate to feel his skin beneath her fingers, his tongue everywhere. “You drive me nuts.”

“Really,” he said, not backing down an inch as his Waterbury accent came out in his passion, wiping away the veneer of Harbor City elite that he clung to so fucking hard. “Never woulda guessed.”

She stopped in front of him, just out of reach, and, instead of touching him, she grabbed the hem of her pink tunic sweater and yanked it over her head and dropped it on Helga’s trunk. “I should try to be less subtle.”

Faster than she thought possible, his hands were on her hips, lifting her up and setting her down on the BMW’s small trunk. His mouth was on the column of her throat, then on the upper swell of her breasts before traveling back up to claim her mouth. His fingers slid in between her legs, cupping her through the denim of her jeans, adding enough pressure to make her beg for more. And she did, pulling her mouth away from his to do so.

“Is that what you want, sugar?” he asked, his voice a growl against her skin. “You want me to touch you there?”

She rocked her hips forward against him, fighting to find relief for the need building up inside her.

“Tell me.”

Decision made, the words flew from her lips sure and true. “I want you to strip off my jeans and fuck me right here.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He had her jeans hanging from one ankle on the next breath.

“Fuckin’ A,” he groaned. “Pink.”

Momentarily thrown out of the moment, she glanced down at her panties, one of the few pairs she owned. “They came with the bra.”

“Just soft girlie pink underneath it all, aren’t ya?” He traced a finger across the top band and then glided it down the middle, damp with her desire. “So wet already for me. Maybe I should slow down.” He teased the tip of his finger over her. “Take my time. Make you beg some more. You sound so hot when you do.”

She curled her fingers around his wrist. “You do and you’ll live to regret it.”

“Impatient, sugar?” He had the balls to grin down at her.

She should have run over him when she had the chance. She knew a challenge when it was issued. Slowly, she released his wrist, but instead of letting her hand fall back to grip the trunk, she brought it to the strip of silk between her legs, pulling it to one side. The hungry look on his face as he watched her slide one finger over her swollen flesh was almost better than an orgasm. Almost.

“Oh, I can be patient.” She let her finger circle her engorged clit. “But don’t get mad if I get there without you.”