Searching for Beautiful (Searching For 3)

"You got it."

Kate winced and looked away, but with each prick of the needle, Gen edged closer to satisfaction. Maybe it was time she accepted that she didn't always have to walk in the light. Do the right thing. Make good choices. Maybe there was more to her than she ever thought possible, and getting this tattoo was her first step.

Gen smiled and gave herself up to the experience.

"HOW WAS YOUR DATE?"

It killed her to be casual, but Gen decided she'd die before showing her real emotions. Jealousy. Rage. Confusion. Jealousy.

He hadn't come home last night. Of course, Wolfe warned her, but still she'd stayed up until dawn, listening for the door to open. He waltzed in at 8 a.m. doing the whole walk-of-shame thing. Except he wasn't in the same clothes. Freshly showered, dressed in faded Levi's and a black tank that showed off sculpted arms and his ink, he looked like sin on a stick. Relaxed, too. Like he'd wrung out all his previous tension having wild monkey sex with the slut. Umm, date. Whatever.

She needed to stop talking to herself.

"Good. You got extra bacon?"

She fumed but forced a sunny smile. "Sure. Did you have fun?"

"Yep. Are you making eggs, too?"

Her eye twitched. "Worked up an appetite, huh?"

He pulled back at that remark and studied her. She turned away and fiddled with the skillet, cursing her inability to be cool. The silence behind her spoke volumes. Wolfe finally cleared his throat. "How was your night?" he asked.

Her back tingled in rebellion. If he thought she'd been lying around with the remote, he was sorely mistaken. "Really good." The bacon sizzled in the pan and spurt out fragments of grease. She maneuvered the spatula around the eggs. "It was actually kick-ass."

She sensed his frown but refused to turn around. "Oh. That's good. Your date is tonight though, right?"

"Yep."

"You went to Mugs with the girls, then?"

She scooped up the eggs and bacon and slid them over. Picked up her coffee and sipped. "Nope. I got a tattoo and a Brazilian wax."

His expression was well worth the shock factor. Those blue eyes widened and his lower lip hung down a bit. His gaze scoured her from top to bottom, settling on the apex between her thighs before quickly being dragged back up. Sweat popped up on his brow.

Gen grinned and dug into her eggs.

"What the hell are you talking about? What tattoo? Where? Why?"

She shrugged. "Felt like it. I think the Brazilian hurt more."

An intense light gleamed in his eyes. Her body reacted by saluting to attention. Her nipples stiffened. She grew wet between her legs. She hated it. Having him cross over from the camp of friend to man she desperately wanted to sleep with was brutal. Should she try to get back some of the ribbing and teasing associated with their friendship? After all, if Wolfe was sleeping around, she couldn't be included in the troop of women he desperately wanted to sleep with. So if it was just her panting after him, she better get back on equal footing.

"Why do you need it?" he asked roughly.

"The Brazilian?"

His fingers clenched the fork in a death grip. "No. The tattoo."

"Told you. It was impulse. Kate came with me. She was pretty freaked out by the needles and my nakedness."

The fork clattered to the floor. Wolfe breathed heavily. "Who saw you naked?" he asked in a high voice. "Where did you get it?"

She arched a brow. "Calm down, dude. You got a piercing in your dick. Had to hurt like a bitch. Why'd you do that?"

Ah, he flushed again in that kind of adorable, masculine way. Ducking his head to pick up the fork, he tossed it across the counter. She got him a replacement, waiting for his answer. "Because I was pretty screwed up at the time. I pushed limits, didn't mind pain, and wanted to torture myself for a bunch of messed-up things."

She leaned forward. Her voice was whisper soft. "Like what?"

"Never mind. I really don't want to talk about the piercing, Gen. Where's the tat?"

Disappointed, she turned back to her breakfast. Of course. After all, they didn't share dark and lonely stories. An emptiness pulsed in her gut, with the need to know more of him. It had never mattered before--she was always grateful for whatever he chose to give. Now?

Not so much.

She patted her lower back. "Tramp stamp."

He sucked in his breath but she ignored him. Cleaned up her plates and stacked them in the dishwasher. "Can I see it?" he asked.

"It's covered. I'll show you another time." No way did she feel like revealing it to him right now, when she felt so vulnerable. If he tried to touch her, she might lose it. Best to keep the tone light and let him know the expectations for tonight. "I need you to sleep at your apartment tonight."

Darkness crossed his face. "Not a good idea. I think David's watching and I don't want you to be alone two nights in a row."

"I won't be. If everything goes according to plan, Charles will be staying the night. I'd rather not get into any awkwardness."

"You don't even know the guy! What if you're not attracted to him? Why can't you have a nice dinner and come home? We can go over his assets and liabilities together over a beer and TV."

Her temper surged. She made sure not to bang his plate around when she cleaned it up. "Maybe I'm looking for more than friendship tonight, Wolfe. Maybe it's time I prove to myself there are other men who'll want me."

"Sweetheart, don't talk like that. A man would be nuts not to be hot for you. I don't want you to rush or make a bigger mistake if he's not the right one. You need time. I'm telling you this stuff because I'm your friend."

"Yes, you are." He flinched. She wiped the counter and began stacking the dishwasher. "As my friend, you'll make yourself scarce. I'd rather bring him here than go to his place. This date means a lot to me. I have a good feeling about it, and I miss sex. Connection. I need to know there's something more than what I had. Is that so wrong?"

He pushed his fingers through his already tousled hair. Frustration beat in waves around his figure. "Does Kate know your intentions?"

"Yes."

He frowned. "And she's okay with this?"

Gen dragged in a breath and grabbed for patience. How could he have slept with a woman last night and have the nerve to ask her questions? Judge? Why were the rules different for her? "Kate encouraged the encounter." The lie came easily. Was it the first one she'd really told him? Or did all the denial about being unhappy with David count, too?

"Can I meet him first?"

She gasped. "No! Did I meet your so-called date last night before you screwed her? Look, this topic is now closed for discussion. The house is off-limits tonight. And I'll share as many details about my date as you did yours."

Gen stalked out of the breakfast nook with those fighting words, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around. Wolfe never lost his temper. Gen knew he was ruthless in business. Sexual around women. But with her, he was consistently easygoing and relaxed.

Fascinated, she stared into his eyes and noticed the tick in his jaw. The way he ground his teeth. The raw sexual energy pouring from his body in waves. Those blue eyes filled with a swirling array of emotions she couldn't name. What did he want from her? And why did this anger feel so different? Almost as if it was combined with lust and want and sexual frustration?

"You really want to know what happened last night?" he growled. His fingers burned into her skin. She wanted to cry out with satisfaction for receiving his mark.

"No thanks," she shot back. "Don't need to know how many orgasms you gave her. I already know you're a champion in that department."

"Don't push me. You may get more than you bargained for." His breath rushed over her mouth. Coffee and peppermint. She stiffened so she wouldn't lean closer for a taste. Gen meant to step back, cool down, and let it go. The song from Frozen screamed out at her. Begged her. Let it go. Let it go.

"Maybe not." She tilted her head all the way back and challenged him. "Maybe it's you who'll be

surprised if you push me."

His breath came out choppy. "What are you doing, Gen? Or do you even know?"

The cryptic conversation seethed with boatloads of meaning. Her body shook with the force of holding her emotions back. "Ready to tell me about your hot date now?" she taunted. "Bet she was a skinny-ass model. You like those. Bet she had moves that put you to shame. Did she stay the night or did you kick her out at the 3 a.m. mark? That's when you usually get itchy."

He muttered a vicious curse. A sense of danger settled over her, and she pushed harder to make him lose his patience, sensing she'd finally get to the real stuff.

"Did you have the talk beforehand, letting her know it's just fun and games and you don't do relationships? At least after she screams your name a number of times, you can make yourself feel better by saying you were honest. Walk away with a clear conscience and a smile on your face. How many orgasms erase your guilt?"

His other arm shot out. He dragged her against his chest, fury pumping from his pores. "One more word," he warned, "and I'll show you clearly what she got last night."

Excitement curled in her belly. "I'll give you two."

"Don't you dare."

"Fuck. You."

His mouth slammed down and claimed her.