Beast Brothers - Page 32

He leans in an inch closer and I catch the clean, fresh, soap smell of his skin. “Let me buy you a Coke then.” His eyes roam slowly over my blouse, skirt and heels again. "You're not from around here, are you?"

I just laugh in response, and return my attention to the wall at the back of the bar. The minute my eyes are off of him, though, I find myself missing the sight of his body. It's a wonder to behold, just like the statues at the museum.

He summons the bartender. “The lady here would like a Coke.”

While he's looking toward her, my eyes go back to him as if pulled by a magnet. I'm pretty sure my two hands wouldn't be able to meet if I circled them around his upper arm, and something in me suddenly wants to try. I risk a downward glance and see strong thigh muscles straining against tight jeans. He's wearing heavy boots with mud on them. I’ve never considered myself a fan of the country boy type, but then again, I’ve never been this close to one. My heart picks up pace the more I look at him.

I pull my eyes back to his face, not wanting to get caught checking him out. He's got fine stubble creating a sexy shadow along his jaw, and somehow it looks natural, not like the highly manicured facial hair I'm used to seeing on men in the city. This man next to me doesn't look anything like men in the city.

I picture Clay, his lean frame clothed in a perfect suit and expensive tie; his overly groomed hair. Maybe a little attention from a rough and tumble country boy is just what I need to push my lying, cheating ex-boyfriend out of my head.

I take the final gulp of my whiskey and Coke and then put a hand on the man's broad shoulder. "I really do need to go," I say. "Would you be a gentleman and walk me to my car?"

His eyes widen and I smile at his surprised response to my invitation. I start to pull out my wallet but he stops me. "I've got it," he says. He tosses two bills on the counter and then backs up just enough to give me space to slip off the stool.

As I walk towards the exit, he escorts me with his warm hand gently resting on the small of my back. The heat of his touch radiates throughout my body. He moves ahead of me and holds the door open. He is a gentleman, or maybe not, I think, as his eyes hungrily scan my body when I move past him. Once we're outside, he places his hand on my back again, though this time the position is lower.

"Where are you parked?" he says, in a voice that’s deeper and more serious-sounding than it was in the bar.

"Around this way.” I gesture to the left.

As soon as we pass the side of the building and are out of view of the entrance, I stop and turn toward him, and his arms circle around me. We look into each other's eyes for the briefest of moments before our mouths are drawn together. I reach up around his neck and pull him closer.

I can taste beer on his lips, and the unfamiliarity of the flavor almost jolts me to my senses, but then he's pressing against me, and the feel of his massive, hard body makes me melt into him. I've always been attracted to intellectual or professional types, men with more developed minds than physiques. This man's body feels like a science lesson in muscle anatomy. He must work out for hours every day to maintain such well-defined bulk.

While I'm marveling at the sheer size and density of him, he seems to be enjoying my body as well. He slides his hands over my silky blouse and then lower to my skirt, where he pulls my hips against him. He could easily crush me, but his touch is tender yet firm as he caresses my body.

Our kisses deepen, and I feel a jolt of pure desire when he runs his tongue along my lower lip. Then he nips at it gently and I purr involuntarily before meeting his tongue with mine.

“You taste good,” he murmurs when we pause to catch our breath. He backs me up against the side of the building and slips a hand under my blouse. Though his touch is warm, I shiver as he grasps the bare skin at my waist. “You feel good too,” he says in a low, gravelly voice that does funny things to my body. Funny, tingly things that threaten to melt me into a puddle at his feet.

I curl my fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and dig my nails into his flesh as I pull his mouth back to mine. With my other hand, I blindly explore all those muscles I'd been admiring in the bar. His chest is so hard, and his massive arms are now surrounding me as I'm trapped between him and the wall.

Our kisses grow desperate and I can feel his breathing change. His hand snakes further up my torso and brushes over my bra. He nips again at my swollen lip as his fingers find my nipple and pull at it through the thin fabric. My legs go weak as dizzying impulses fire throughout my body.

"Where's your car?" he breathes against my ear before he pulls my earlobe into his mouth and tugs. Before I answer, he continues, "Never mind. My truck’s around back."

Chapter 4

My feet barely seem to touch the ground as he leads me towards the back of the parking lot. Our hands don't leave each other's bodies and we slow a few times because we can’t stop kissing each other. I feel like I’m under a spell, aware only of my body and his body, and all of the thrilling sensations triggered by the touch of his lips and hands.

At his truck, which is huge like him, he opens the passenger door and backs me into the opening. We don't get inside, but I’m vaguely aware that our position offers some privacy. We are back at each other's bodies full speed, kissing, grasping, pulling, exploring. I really can't get enough of the hardness and size of his arms and chest muscles. I could lose myself in them.

My sexy superhero pushes his hands under my blouse again, and right now, I'm really glad that I didn’t throw it away. It is again, and forevermore, my lucky blouse. He cups my breasts in his hands, rubbing across my hardened peaks with his thumbs. It feels so naughty, and so wrong, but so very, very right. I whimper as he circles around them, and I feel wetness gather between my legs.

It's then that he pushes his hips forward and I feel his excitement growing. If I'd thought his chest was big and hard, well… it's got nothing on what I feel pressing against me through his jeans. He pulls back and then pushes against me again.

"I want you…" he growls. And I want him. The energy between us is incredible. I’d never experienced anything like it.

This is so crazy. I put Clay off unt

il our fifth date before we had sex. I hadn't been trying to play games; I just like to take things slow, to make sure things are right. I don't like to make hasty decisions and deal with regrets. Now I'm making out with someone I've just met.

He runs a hand up my leg and starts to push up the bottom of my skirt.

Actually, I haven't even technically met him. I'm getting hot and heavy with him, and I don’t even know his name.

Suddenly my head clears and I come to my senses. I'm in a public parking lot, getting felt up by a stranger. A beautiful, ridiculously sexy stranger, but still, a stranger. This man could be married, for all I know. I hadn’t even looked for a ring on his finger. He could be a serial killer, for god's sake. And we're in public. Even if he were my boyfriend, this is not how I would conduct myself.

In a rush of panic, I push him away from me and smooth down my skirt.

"I'm so sorry," I say. My breath is ragged from arousal, and I'm near tears at my sudden confusion. "I'm so sorry. I can't do this. I don't do this."

I meet his eyes briefly. I see confusion there too, but to my extreme relief, I don't see any anger.

"I'm sorry. I need to go,” I say.

I step around him and he grabs at my arm.

"Don't. Please don't," I say. I can't say much more for fear that I'll break down, and I hope my eyes can somehow convey my apologies. I didn't mean to lead him on. I expect him to be angry, but he mostly looks concerned.

"Please. I need to go." I pull away from him and he releases me. I feel the tears coming. I feel foolish and ridiculous as I head across the lot, quickly putting distance between us. I risk a quick glance backward and see that he's standing where I left him, staring after me, one arm grasping the open door of his truck, the other resting over his heart.

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