That Thing You Do (Crystal Lake 2)

His gut tightened, and his skin went up in flames. He was hot. So damn hot.

He looked through the gloom at her, and something close to hunger took hold of him. He was panting like an animal and flexed his fingers against the steering wheel in an effort to tone this shit down. He felt the weight of her gaze, and then she took a step back and disappeared from view, leaving the door open for him.

With his heart nearly pounding out of his damn chest, Nate slipped from his truck. He ignored every single alarm bell ringing in his head, the ones that screamed at him to leave. The ones that told him to leave things well enough alone. He strode forward, his long legs eating up the distance in no time, and, before he could change his mind, walked into Molly’s house.

There was no turning back now. And once he caught sight of her, once he saw the look in her eyes, the only thought he had was God help me.

Chapter Eleven

Molly waited inside, suddenly unsure that she’d done the right thing. She’d spent most of Monday thinking about her and Nate. About what it would feel like to be with him in that way. The problem was she didn’t have anyone to confide in or bounce her fears off of. Usually when she had a situation going on, something that stressed her out, she talked it over with her brother. But he was the last person she wanted to chat with about Nathan, because she knew what he’d say.

Bad idea, Moll. Run the other way as fast as you can. You’ll only get hurt.

And the thing was, he’d be right. If she were her brother, she’d say the same thing. But there was a part of her, that stubborn little corner of her heart, that didn’t want to listen to that kind of talk. It was that part of her that was willing to take what she could get for as long as she could get it. Which led to a conundrum of sorts. The only way to do that without risking everything, especially her heart, was to set down rules and follow them.

Sex with no strings. She could do that, couldn’t she? Didn’t men and women do it all the time? Didn’t they dive in and enjoy each other without fear? Didn’t she deserve to know what all the damn fuss was about?

She’d come home from work, had a long shower, and, after thinking real hard about all of it, decided she would regret passing up the chance to be with Nathan. She was about to call him when she heard a vehicle in the driveway. She’d watched Nate sit in his truck for several minutes, and she thought that maybe he was thinking the same things she was. Maybe he was second-guessing, thinking this was the wrong way to go. And that got Molly nervous. She almost let him leave, but that little slice of whatever it was inside her propelled her feet forward, and before she knew what was she was doing, she was standing on the front porch looking down at him in nothing but an old Backstreet Boys T-shirt and her underwear.

Now he stood a few feet from her, and the sight of him made her mouth dry, her heart pound, and her insides ache with need. A pulse erupted, low, between her legs, and she swore to God that if pheromones were colored, the entire foyer would be lit up like a Christmas tree.

He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans that fit him like an old friend, a plain black Henley, and boots. His thick hair looked a bit mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it more than once, and his strong jaw and chin were shadowed by a couple of days’ worth of scruff. His dark eyes were intense, his generous mouth held tight, and she could see the steady rise and fall of his chest.

In that moment, she realized he was just as affected as she was, and with that realization came power. With that power came a sense of abandonment and a devil-may-care attitude. It was the attitude that propelled her forward.

“Hey,” she said softly, stepping off the last porch step.

Nate didn’t answer, but she saw his throat work as he swallowed hard and gave a quick nod. His eyes moved over her body, and her already hard nipples contracted painfully. She’d never been this brazen before. Never this forward or at ease in a situation like this.

She could try for some femme fatale kind of thing, but with her luck, she’d trip over her feet and

break her nose. Instead, she decided the best thing to do was to be as honest as possible.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, taking another step until she was so close, she felt the heat come off him and slide across her skin.

He was still silent, though his eyes locked on to hers with an intensity she’d never seen before. It practically sucked all the air from her lungs.

“I’ve been thinking,” she continued bravely, trying for some kind of control. The frog in her throat made it hard to talk, so she cleared it and continued. “Thinking that, um—”

“So have I.”

Startled, she couldn’t breathe. “What have you—”

“I want you.” His words shot between them like a bullet, and it hit her straight in the heart. “I want to be with you Molly. I want you naked, and I want to be inside you so bad, it fucking hurts.”

Every single word that came out of his mouth lit up her skin like a fireball. She licked her lips and inched closer still. “This might get complicated.”

“It will, and I can handle that.”

“I’m sure you can.” Molly glanced up at him. But can I? She licked her dry lips, liking the way that simple action drew his gaze. “If we’re going to do this, there are a couple of rules we need in place.”

His eyes lowered, and his hands found their way to her hips. Gently, he tugged her forward. “Rules?” he murmured against the side of her neck, his breath warm and intoxicating. Jesus, her knees were going to give out if she didn’t get hold of herself.

“Rule number one. No one knows about this.”

“This?”

“About us doing this.”