Down and Dirty (Dare Me 2)

“Sounds perfect for you.”

“In what way?” he asked, openly frowning at her now.

“You like water sports.”

His mind was inexorably drawn back to the time he and Cat had engaged in some water sports together, and for a second, he forgot what they were talking about.

“Shane?”

“Right. I do like water sports, but that’s it? That’s what puts her in the keeper folder?”

“Sure. Common interests are huge in a relationship. Otherwise one person’s always getting dragged around by the other and doing stuff they don’t want to do, you know?”

He didn’t know, but he nodded anyway. It seemed to him more that if two people liked being together, they made compromises sometimes and the rest of the time tried to find new things both people liked to do, but there was no point in arguing. He had no interest in dating any of these women, opposite or not, so what did it matter who he corresponded with? As long as he let them know up front he was looking for friendship only, there wouldn’t be a problem. But he had to make sure some of them were attractive enough to make Cat jealous. “Okay. Maybe she’s just not photogenic. Who else you got for me?”

She sipped her coffee and clicked on to the next one. “Courtney Lockhart DeLollis. Hmm…”

Courtney was quite the looker. Long, honey-blond hair, wide-set hazel eyes.

“Nope.” Cat shook her head, and moved to close the photo. He covered her hand with his to stop her.

“What’s wrong with this one?”

“Vapid. You can see it in the eyes. Dull. Not quite focused. If I were to guess what she was thinking right now, it would be ‘I like turtles’ or ‘I wonder what Kim Kardashian is doing right now’ or something.”

She looked dead serious, but that couldn’t be right. “You can tell that from looking at her eyes in one picture? How is that even possible?”

“It’s just a feeling. She looks like a nitwit. It’s your choice, though. If you want to spend an evening discussing the merits of turtles, go for it.”

He stared at her hard, but she steadfastly ignored him. “Cat.”

“What?” She kept her gaze locked on the monitor, but her fingers tapped a nervous beat on the desk.

“Is this what you do?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. Is this what you do to guys you date? Look for flaws?”

“Oh, honestly, now you sound like Lacey. That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just trying to save you some time.” She looked down at her watch. “Speaking of which, I’ve got to go.”

Running again. A tense moment passed while he debated whether to let her off so easily, but eventually he stood. They’d kissed last night; she’d gotten jealous today. They were making slow, steady progress. He had all the time in the world. “Okay. I’ll get your coat. You want to help me weed through some of these tomorrow?”

She stood and stretched, the move baring enough of her sleek tummy to distract him from hearing the front end of her response. “…to go bungee jumping tomorrow, but I think I’m just going to cancel. I have a couple things to do in the morning, but you can come by my place around noon if you want.”

“Why cancel the jump? You’ve been dying to do it, so do it.”

“I was supposed to go with a girl from work, but something came up and she can’t make it. The thing is, it’s a two-person rig, so if I went alone I’d be paired with a stranger. Just won’t be as much fun.”

“I’ll go with you.”

She stared at him dubiously. “It doesn’t really seem like your thing.”

“I spend a lot of time in risky conditions for work, so it’s not something I’d necessarily go out of my way to do for pleasure, but I’d do it to support a friend if she didn’t want to go alone.” She hadn’t said no yet, but she was about to. “I can tell you’re looking for a reason to say no, but I’m not sure why. Friends help each other. Unless you’re afraid?”

“Afraid? Not a chance. I’ve gone skydiving, parasailing, hang gliding, swimming with sharks.” She ticked each one off on her fingers. “I’m not scared to bungee-jump.”

“I didn’t say you were. I was thinking maybe you were afraid of bungee jumping…with me.” He stepped closer. Close enough to see her pupils dilate and the pulse pound in her throat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The column of her neck worked as she swallowed, and any thoughts of letting her off easy crashed and burned. He closed the remaining distance between them, pressing forward until her back was against the wall.

“You tell me.”

Chapter Seven

What was the question again?

Hell if she could remember. His mouth was so close, his big body crowding her, frazzling her already-frayed nerves.

“I don’t want you to kiss me,” she heard herself murmur, even as she stretched onto her tiptoes to get closer to his lips.

“That isn’t what I asked you,” he said, tracing the line of her cheekbone with his finger. “I asked why you’re afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You are. And I want to know why.” His lips followed the path his finger created, brushing along her skin like a whisper.

“I—I just don’t want to get involved with someone who—” She gasped when his warm breath caressed her earlobe.

“Someone who?”

She shouldn’t answer. It would only make things worse if he knew, but the words were out before she could stop them. “Someone who makes me feel like this.”

The groan seemed torn from his throat, and he bent low, wrapping his strong arms around her. The instant his mouth touched hers, the dam broke. Everything she’d been feeling rushed forward like a tidal wave. She twined her arms around his neck and plastered herself against him, reveling in the feel of his tightly bunched muscles. His tongue stroked hers in a primal rhythm that made her stomach clench with need. His mouth was magic, and the memory of him between her thighs was almost too much to bear.

She slid a restless hand into his hair and tugged, desperate for more. His palms drifted lower, cupping her ass and lifting her clear off the ground. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his hips, crying out against his mouth when the hard, thick length of him pressed against the spot already so primed for his touch. It was sublime, and she fluttered her hips against his in a wordless plea for more. He sucked gently on her bottom lip, then rolled his pelvis, wringing a moan from her when his erection rocked against her clit harder this time. He drew back and repeated the motion, again and again, fanning the flames higher and hotter, almost out of control.

He pulled his mouth from hers to press soft kisses along her jaw, down her neck. “God, you are so fucking sexy,” he murmured, gripping her ass tighter, using his hold to grind her against his rock-hard cock in a way that had the blood pounding in her ears. She was one firm touch, one clever finger away from a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Hold on tight,” he growled.

She did, gripping his thick shoulders with all her might and locking her legs tighter around his waist.

“Good girl.” He pulled away from the wall, and she whimpered at the loss of pressure between her legs. She quieted a second later when he sat her on the dining room table, urging her to lean back on her hands. “I just need to see you this time.” His voice was all grit and need, and she quivered, powerless to deny him. He traced the skin on her stomach reverently, then slowly lifted her sweater higher.

“Beautiful,” he muttered, tracing the scalloped edge of her strapless black bra. With a flick of his fingers he released the closure, and it fell to the side.

The chilly air hit her, and her nipples tightened even more, but it was the heat in his eyes that had her whole body quivering.

“Jesus. That’s fucking—” He broke off and dropped to her, his hot mouth closing over one nipple and sucking.

“Shane!” She moaned, tossing her head back, letting the heat and pressure of his lips and tongue drag her closer to the edge.

He pulled away and blew on the distended tip. “Peach. I wondered if the memory was skewed or it was a trick of the moonlight. I love peach. And so sensitive.” He nipped her, murmuring his approval when she gasped. “Let your legs down.”

She obeyed, releasing the death grip she had around him to let her legs dangle over the edge of the table. He stepped back a few inches and cupped her denim-covered pelvis, rubbing her in slow, firm circles. She bit her lip to keep from chanting his name when he lowered his mouth back toward her nipple.

“Can you come like this?” His warm breath washed over her, and she wanted to drag him closer until his lips were on her again. “I think you can. Come for me, Cat,” he murmured, and closed his mouth over the straining bud, sucking and licking, matching the relentless rhythm of the sensual massage between her thighs.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, every nerve ending at attention, the sensation hurtling her toward release. He pinched her nipples sharply between his teeth, and the pleasure-pain sent her flying. The waves of ecstasy rolled over, and she bit her lip to keep from sobbing. Through the buzzing in her ears, she heard Shane’s hums of encouragement. She also heard the sound of a car door slamming shut.

She froze but for the fading spasms of her orgasm, and her eyes popped open. Then, a second car door slammed. This one hit her like a slap, clearing away the haze of lust.

“Your parents,” she whispered furiously, pushing him away and yanking her sweater down.

He lifted his head, and stared at her blankly, eyes hot with need. “What?”

“Your parents are home!” She shoved him hard and slid off the table, trying to ignore the little flip her stomach was doing at the sight of his firm lips swollen from the kissing and sucking.

“Fix…that,” she said, pointing urgently at the massive erection that was attempting to burst through his zipper. She grabbed her bra and stuffed it into her pocket.

“Okay, let’s just have a seat in the living room and stay calm.” He straightened the centerpiece they’d manage to displace and led her the few feet to the drop-in living room. They’d just sat down in front of the fireplace when the door opened.

Cat ran a quick hand through her mussed hair and worked up a smile.

“Hey guys,” Shane called to his parents as they stepped into the hallway. He adjusted his jeans with final tug before they rounded the corner. “Did you win or what?”

“We split,” Martha Decker said, stepping into the room with a smile. “Hey there, sweetheart,” she said when she caught sight of Cat. She ambled over and pulled her up for a baby-powder-scented hug. “How are your parents doing?”

“They’re good, thanks for asking.” She resisted the urge to fidget under the older woman’s sharp gaze. Were her lips puffy, too? She quelled the need to touch them, knowing it would only draw attention to them if they were.

Shane’s dad came into the room carrying an empty Crock-Pot. “Hello, Mary Catherine. Good to see you again.” He set the pot on the dining room table and shifted his gaze between Shane and her. “So what are you kids up to? You find my boy a wife yet?”

“Oh, Aaron, stop teasing them. He’s not going to find a wife on the computer, are you, Shane? He’s just looking to make some nice new friends.” She slung her purse on the arm of a wing chair and reached down to pat her son’s cheek. “You feel a little warm,” she said with a frown. “Are you getting sick?”

Cat kept her eyes on Shane, hoping no one was looking at her because her face was on fire.

Shane shook his head. “No, although I count that as a miracle what with the climate change. Your hands are just cold from being outside.”