Holding on Tighter (Wicked Lovers 12)

“Typically, I don’t date at all.”

Jolie didn’t ask why. Instead, she finished up the last few bites as he slid the pan in the dishwasher. After another swallow of wine, she brought everything to the kitchen. Heath downed the last of his vino, then set the glasses on the top rack.

“Thanks for cooking. It tasted great.”

She looked as if she’d caught a second wind now that she had some calories and vegetables in her. He really didn’t have any other questions for her tonight. No doubt they both needed sleep before what was likely to be a busy day ahead. Yet he was loath to leave her.

“It was my pleasure. Now, for the sake of your safety, I intend to sleep on your sofa tonight. Where can I find a pillow and a blanket?”

***

JOLIE stared. Yes, she’d feel safer with someone here tonight to watch over her but . . . “No. Not happening.”

After the wine and food, she’d felt mellow, almost happy. With one sentence, the attraction that had been simmering between them heated to something near a boil.

He crossed his arms over his wide chest, the dark cotton of his T-shirt stretching to accommodate every bulge and ripple. “I won’t negotiate on this. You have no idea who broke into your office or what they sought. Until I can investigate a bit more, I’ll be the sentry between you and danger. In order to reach you, any robber, rapist, or killer will have to go through me.”

Who would save her from him?

His protective mien made her belly tighten and flutter. Stupid female response. She appreciated the offer. Busy love life aside, he was a decent guy, so he didn’t want to see her hurt or dead. That didn’t make him her hero. That didn’t mean they should get involved.

Heath could be polite. He could be confrontational. He could be a pain in her ass. She also suspected he could be dangerously seductive.

“I have an alarm system,” she argued. “It’s wired directly to the police.”

“It’s standard-issue shit. If I wanted you dead, I could bypass it in thirty seconds and kill you in the next five.”

“Stop trying to scare me.”

“I’m merely giving you a fact, not a ploy to stay the night. Say yes.”

“No.”

He stared at her as if he could see right through her and enjoyed rattling her. “The only reason you would refuse is because you’re less afraid of physical danger than how I make you feel.”

Jolie managed not to grimace. He was right and she didn’t want this . . . whatever they had between them to cloud her head. “If that’s what you think, then stay. Tonight only. I have to be on top of my game tomorrow for my staff meeting. It’s the last big investor prep session before Friday’s dinner. Wait here.”

When she turned and scurried to the linen closet in the hall bathroom, she realized her hands were shaking. The first man to intrigue her in forever would spend tonight sprawled on her sofa just down the hall. Would she actually sleep?

Grabbing a fluffy pillow, Jolie put a crisp white case on it and snatched a spare blanket. Was Heath the sort of man whose scent would swirl in the air after a night’s rest? She’d bet so because she often caught whiffs of something masculine and woodsy when he walked by. Just this morning, he’d let himself into her office to ask about keys and passwords, and she’d been so distracted she could barely answer.

Totally unacceptable. Time to get her shit together.

Yet as Jolie headed back to the living room, she couldn’t help but wonder what sort of five o’clock shadow would darken Heath’s face come morning. Already, the stubble covered the sharp angles of his jaw and the severe ridge of his chin as if his masculinity wouldn’t be denied.

“Here you go.” She shoved the linens into his hand. “Help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. You know where everything is now. Guest bathroom is the first door on the right. Towels are under the sink. Good night.” Before she could turn away, Jolie realized that he’d volunteered to inconvenience himself by sleeping on a sofa too small for his frame in order to keep her safe. He might want to get in her pants . . . but he was also helping her out. “And thanks.”

When she tried to escape, Heath dropped the linens and grabbed her wrist. He stared through her bravado. Was there any part of her his dark stare couldn’t dismantle? “I’ll take care of you.”

Was he talking about her safety? Or her sexuality?

“I know. That’s why I hired you.”

Maybe she only felt vulnerable tonight because she was tired, not thinking straight. Tomorrow she’d be ready to tackle everything. And it would be a cold day in hell before she ever made herself as vulnerable to a man as her mother did.

When he released her, she sent him a little wave, grabbed her phone from her purse, and headed back to her bedroom, easing the door shut. It didn’t help. The knowledge that only a thin piece of wood, some drywall, and a few feet separated them plagued her thoughts. Feeling his big presence was worse. Heath Powell was like a beacon she couldn’t help but home into. Right now, he was probably stripping off his shirt and pants and—

The pipes clinked. Water rushed into the hall shower a moment later. Jolie bit back a groan. He really was getting naked. Somehow, that only reminded her that she hadn’t bothered to take her sex drive out for a spin in months. But more than a neglected libido unsettled her. The fact was, she actually liked Heath. Besides being attractive, he was insightful, confident, and interesting to banter with. He also seemed perfectly comfortable with himself. And really hot. Jolie didn’t find that combination often. Try never.

Damn it. Listen to her waxing poetic. She sounded a lot like Karis just before she’d chastised her younger sister earlier this afternoon.

Dropping her clothes into the hamper, she eyed her favorite La Perla nightie, a lovely splurge made of black silk. It whispered over her skin. Sheer white lace cupped her breasts, making her feel feminine and sexy. Yeah, she didn’t need more of that tonight.

So she donned a plain gray cotton cami she’d picked up at Target as a poor college student.

After washing her face, she fell into bed, plugged in her phone, and flipped off the lights. She turned on some soft instrumental music to help her brain wind down and closed her eyes. Almost instantly, Heath crashed into her Zen. She liked his smile. It never failed to make her jittery, just like that dark stare of his. Why did the man get to her? Never mind that. She knew. The better question was, why did he seem so determined to provoke her? To understand her?

Maybe she mattered to him against his will and better judgment, too.

I want you far more than I’m comfortable admitting.

Those words skittered through her memory. The moment he’d confessed that her body had flashed hot, reacting almost as if he’d touched her.

“That makes two of us,” she murmured to herself.

With a grunt, Jolie threw off the covers and paced. It wasn’t as if she hoped that she and Heath would share some fairy-tale happily-ever-after. On the other hand, their attraction wasn’t going away. So she had two choices: keep trying to ignore it—which wasn’t working—or confront it head-on.

Jolie wasn’t one for avoidance. “Let’s get this over with.”

With a squeak, the faucet shut off. She heard him yank back the shower curtain and step from the tub. She imagined him naked and hard and wanting her as badly as she ached for him.

“Damn it,” she muttered as she stripped off her cami, pulled open her door, and marched down the hall.

Chapter Five

Rule for success number five:

Passion. It’s all about passion . . .

ONCE she reached the living room, Jolie braced her hands on her hips, her naked body illuminated in the soft glow of the kitchen light, and waited.

The cool air caressed her skin, puckered her nipples. Seconds ticked by. She couldn’t deny that she’d never felt more like a woman. Why did even the thought of Heath Powell make her feel so damn alive?

Chemistry, an unsolved mystery of t

he universe. Or something like that. If she had sex with him tonight, tomorrow she’d no longer wonder what it would feel like if he touched her. She could satisfy her curiosity and libido at once. Same for him. Then whatever this attraction was between them would be over. Done. Finished. Poof! By tomorrow, everything would be normal again. She would be in control of her life once more.

Down the hall, Heath jerked open the bathroom door. He entered the living room with a white towel wrapped around his lean waist. Water beaded on his broad shoulders that tapered down to ridged abs. He held his clothes in one fist, his gun in the other.

He was unbearably sexy. Jolie found it hard to breathe.

When he caught sight of her, he stopped, stared—and dropped his clothes where he stood. He set his weapon on the arm of the sofa, still within reach. He didn’t even try to bank the hunger on his face.

Jolie panted, aware of how completely naked she was. The feeling went far beyond mere flesh.

He prowled closer, stopping when their bodies nearly brushed and she smelled soap on his skin. “Is this an invitation or are you tempting me with what I can’t have?”

Once she answered him, there would be no going back. “Spend the night with me.”

“You’ve decided I do something for you, after all? Is that why you’re seducing me?”

The words she’d tossed at him earlier had come back to haunt her. Jolie wasn’t surprised he hadn’t let that go. She hoped he wouldn’t turn her down but he might. Heath had chided her for having control issues, yet he’d already admitted he wanted to be on top in the bedroom. Not being the one to initiate might grate his masculinity or rub the in-charge man in him wrong.

“Do you want to analyze my invitation or have sex?”

“I want to have sex. I’ve wanted that since I laid eyes on you.”

Then why had he screwed the blonde at the bar?

It didn’t matter. This was a hookup, not the start of a romance. She had simply cut through the crap and made it easy for them both to scratch their mutual itch.

“I wanted you, too. My bedroom is down the hall.” She headed toward the back of her unit.

Heath didn’t follow. “I said I want to have sex with you. I didn’t say we would.”

She stopped midstride, grateful that he couldn’t see her face. His rejection hurt. She would never reveal how much. Better to pretend that she could simply shrug it off.

“I guess since you’ve already had a piece of ass tonight, I shouldn’t be surprised you’re not ready to go again. I mean, you’re getting older so you must need eight hours of sleep and a little blue pill in between your meaningless fucks.”

“Look at me.” He waited until she turned to face him. His eyes glinted with a biting desire that left her breathless. “Let me rephrase. It’s likely we’ll have sex, probably for the rest of the night. In fact, if we do this, don’t expect to be well rested for your meeting tomorrow. I simply wanted to be clear that you don’t order me to fuck you. You don’t say when or where or how. That’s my role.”

She braced her hand on her hip. “Because you’re the big, dominant stud muffin? Look, that whole taking-orders thing is not how I roll. If you want me, come to the bedroom and we’ll be two consenting adults choosing to have orgasms in a way that mutually suits us both. Or we can drop the idea and you can go find some other nameless bimbo tomorrow night at that meat market of a bar.” She shrugged and tried to pretend his answer didn’t matter. “Your call.”

Heath didn’t say a word, just grabbed his gun and stalked closer, unwinding the towel from around his waist and dropping it to the floor. She gasped, her stare glued to his body. His olive skin, which she suspected was a throwback to some Italian or Spanish ancestor, stretched over bulging muscles, lean sinew, and hard bone. Everything about him looked powerful and determined. His body, his expression, his cock.

Jolie had hit the sheets with some hot guys in her life. Athletes, a few models, some high-powered business executives. Not one had made her breath catch or her heart race like this.

Had provoking him been a mistake?

She couldn’t think clearly when he urged her back against the wall and braced his forearm above her head. The gun clattered against the plaster as he leaned in and loomed above her. The nine-inch difference in their heights suddenly made him seem like a mountain. Though he wasn’t touching her anywhere, he bore a hole through her composure with his midnight eyes. They stripped her resistance while vowing untold pleasure.

Jolie heard rapid little pants filling the silence between them and was horrified to realize they were hers. She couldn’t make them stop. Instead, she settled her fingers on the hard slab of his chest, as if some part of her thought she could push him away if he overwhelmed her. But his stare told her it was too late for that.

With his free hand, he curled his fingers around her nape and pulled her closer. “You must be the most opinionated, guarded, difficult woman I’ve ever met. And I want you so badly.”

Heath bent into what was left of her personal space. His lips hovered just over hers. His hot breath caressed her. He didn’t kiss her, merely waited, studying her. She trembled, her heart thumping wildly, as he surrounded her with his scent, his masculinity, his desire.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

No.

But as much as he overwhelmed her, Jolie couldn’t deny the desperate ache for him. “Yes. Hurry.”

“Maybe this first time. After that . . .” He smiled, leaving her imagination to run wild. “It’s going to take me all night to fuck you properly.”

Heath turned just long enough to set his weapon on the hall table beside her, then closed the distance between them again, bracketing both hands around her face. To her shock, he didn’t push his way into her mouth and plunder. He employed stealth as he slowly settled his lips above hers. He paused, breathing her in as if he wanted to catalog everything about her before he decided how to proceed. His patience nearly made her scream. They were naked. Her body was humming. She was breathless and aching and needy, damn it.

That had to stop.

He was getting to her too fast, but she didn’t know how to stop reacting. And he hadn’t actually kissed her yet, merely teased. Her reactions were unacceptable.

Jolie jerked her face away. Almost instantly, she missed the intimacy of their closeness. It made sense, she reasoned with herself. She’d worn out a couple sets of batteries since she’d been this near another human being.

But trying to fool herself was pointless. This desire eating at her composure and sucking her resistance dry wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced. Towering and terrifying, yes. But damn if she didn’t feel beyond eager to melt into this man and let him take whatever he wanted.

Heath didn’t pull her mouth close to his or chide her coyness. Instead, he pressed long, lingering kisses to her cheek, her temple, her forehead, then back down to her throat. “I don’t think anyone has ever properly worshipped your body. I intend to change that.”

Jolie’s blood caught fire. She swallowed.

Anticipation. Apprehension. Arousal. The mix bloomed in her belly, burst in her head.

She couldn’t stop herself from angling her face closer and rubbing her cheek against his. He cupped her face and she exhaled, pressing herself to his big, solid form.

He’d barely touched her and he was already undoing her. Normally with a guy, she got naked, enjoyed half an hour of adult time, managed an orgasm or two, and was mentally scrolling through her to-do list before she’d even finished dressing. With Heath pressing her into the wall and his lips working against her jaw, his breaths in her ear, she could barely remember her own name.

“Just kiss me already,” she managed to get out.

Heath cradled her face. With a burning, solemn gaze, he held her still. Every cell in her body strained for more. He tsked. “So impatient.”

Before she could shoot back a snappy reply, he bent and brushed his lips over hers—a second of bliss. Then h

e backed away, dragged in a shaky breath. His battle-hardened hands still held her in an inexorable grip, trapping her against the wall as he hovered over her and inhaled her slowly.

Jolie couldn’t stand it anymore. She clutched his head, thrusting her fingers into the dark spikes of his hair, and surged