The Schemer (Harbor City 3)

“That’s not how you react when it happens, though.” He leaned toward her, draping his arm across the back of her seat. “You don’t ew, you moan so fucking sweet.” Needing to see her do just that—at least a little—he glided the tip of his finger up the creamy column of her neck to the pulse point below her earlobe. “And you kiss back like a woman who always gets what she wants.”

Her chin went up, and she leveled a challenging look his way. “Ego much?”

He dipped his head lower, so close and yet so far away from her perfect red mouth. “It’s not ego if it’s true.”

Fuck. This was crazy. It was all impulse and passion, two things he’d worked to get out of his life. But at this moment? There wasn’t a damn thing he wanted more. He couldn’t make the move, though. This needed to be on her. Miss 3B who wanted to pretend there wasn’t anything more between them when a blind man an ocean away could see it. She fucking sizzled when she was near him, and he couldn’t stay away from her.

“Maybe what we need, sugar, is to get each other out of our systems.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, her voice a breathy demand and her pupils blown. “You think I should just fuck you in front of Alberto’s house?”

Yes. His dick liked that idea a lot. Down, you horny fucker, it’s not the time or the place for that.

“I like your sense of adventure, but I plan on taking my time when I get you naked, so a quickie in the car doesn’t really work for me.” Even though it just about killed him, he retreated a few inches, dropping his hand to the outside of her thigh. He relished the feel of her smooth skin under his fingers. The little shiver that shook her shoulders was its own kind of reward even if he’d rather be tasting her lips. “However, you should kiss me.”

“Me?” she asked, her dismissive tone betrayed by the way her pink tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. “Kiss you? Your ego is humongous.”

“That’s not the only thing big about me.” And getting uncomfortably larger by the millisecond.

She let out a shaky breath. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re delaying the inevitable because you are going to kiss me.” All she had to do was lean a little forward. He’d meet her halfway. More than halfway. Shit, his willpower was nonexistent around Everly Ribinski.

She raised one haughty brow. “And why in the world would I do that?”

“If you don’t,” he said softly, his blue eyes glittering knowingly, “you’ll spend the entire lunch wondering when I’m going to kiss you. Because, sugar, it’s going to happen. The question is, do you want to control the where and when, or would you rather leave that up to me?”

She rolled her eyes. “You think I’m so hot for you, I can’t make it through one meal without wanting to jump your bones?”

He smiled. “I think we can’t make it through thirty minutes without fighting about something, and we both know how our arguments are ending lately, regardless of where we are.”

And there it was. “If I do this now, will it shut you up?”

“Probably,” he said, in for a kiss, in for so much more. “It’s hard to talk when my tongue’s busy doing other things.”

Something flickered in her gaze, a decision that he doubted would end his way. “That is true and would be the only thing that would make kissing you worth it.”

And just when he’d prepped himself for her to unsnap her seat belt and reach for the door handle, she surprised him again by closing the distance between them and kissing him. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t perfunctory. It was hot as hell on the sun. Her tongue was in his mouth, her hands gripping the front of his shirt as if she were afraid she’d fall off the earth if she let go. He knew the feeling. The planet was definitely off-kilter for him, too. Electricity went straight to his dick, and he gripped her thigh. Fuck. More. Just a little more.

He slid his hand up higher, and she widened her legs with a needy whimper. His thumb brushed the damp curls between her legs. God, she was commando. If he’d have known that during the drive, he would have steered them straight off the road while dirty fantasies played in his head. He stroked her curls, not hard enough to part them but enough to make Everly let out a sexy little gasp.

“You naughty girl,” he said, desire thick in his voice. “Where are your panties?”

“Does it matter?” she asked, her breath hot against his neck.

No, it didn’t, not when he was just outside of heaven’s door—when the sound of another car managed to pierce the fog of lust clouding his better judgment. It was enough to remind him of exactly where they were and where his hand was and exactly where he wanted it to be.

It took almost inhuman strength but he pulled back, withdrawing his hand and sitting back against the driver’s seat. Shit. This was an epic case of wrong place, wrong woman if he’d ever experienced one. Sneaking a peek at her out of the corner of his eye, he caught her in nearly the same position as him. Her checks were flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes closed as she took in a deep breath. Insanity. That was the only explanation, because even knowing he shouldn’t, all he wanted was to do it again.

A hard rap on his window made him jump in his seat and turn toward the noise.

Helene stood outside the car, wry amusement curling up one side of her mouth.

Hoping it didn’t look like what it was, Tyler pressed the button to lower his window.

“If you two are quite done,” Helene said, her tone carefully neutral, “I’d like to go see this fabulous art collection Alberto swears he has.”

And that was that. Without a word to each other, he and Everly got out of the car and walked with Helene to the front door of Ferranti’s house. He opened on the first knock.