More Than Want You (More Than Words 1)

The trip down to my car is an exercise in restraint. I want to adjust my dick in my ever-tightening pants so badly it’s driving me mad.

When I get Keeley settled, I manage to move my zipper so it feels less like a tourniquet for my cock, and we drive down the road to an outdoor shopping center to grab a nice steak. It’s so awesome to spend time with a girl who likes her meat. (Yeah, I went there.) Afterward, I take her hand and we stroll a few doors down.

“You going to tell me where we’re going?”

“And end your curious squirming?” I give her a mock frown. “Why would I do that?”

She pulls free. “You’re mean.”

I just grin. “It’s one of my better qualities.”

“Says you.” She scowls.

“Well, yeah. My opinion is the only one that counts,” I tease. “At least tonight.”

I expect Keeley to have strong thoughts about what we do in the next hour or two, but I know my brother, so this is my show. She needs to listen when I tell her something will drive Griff crazy with lust.

I shove aside the reality that he will check her out like a slab of meat. But he will. It pisses me off, too. Keeley is way more than that. Will he love her singing? Will he care that she’s a damn good cook? Will he even bother to notice how funny she is? If he’s going to treat her like a pig—

I stop the thought cold. Maybe that’s better for me. Maybe…after this stupid pissing match with my brother is at an end, Keeley and I can try something more than being each other’s one-night stand or partner in crime. Maybe we could actually date. Or try a relationship. Yeah. I feel safe with her. Okay, that sounds fairly stupid because obviously she’s not the sort who will take a tire iron to my face. But I mean I feel as if I can be myself with her and she accepts me. That’s pretty epic. Certainly not the way my sentence—sorry, commitment—with Tiffanii worked.

“Stop with the hints and spill it. What are we doing tonight?”

She can’t stand not knowing. It’s kind of nice having the upper hand for two seconds. As clever as Keeley is, I don’t expect it to last.

“You can’t worm it out of me,” I vow. “Unless you want to make me lewd sexual promises you’ll absolutely fulfill later.”

“Nope. You know the rules.”

“Your rules,” I point out. “And they suck.”

Beside me, she shakes her head like I’m an idiot. “You can’t have it both ways. I’m either with you or with your brother. This is your call.”

“Can’t you be with me while pretending to be with my brother?” I’m actually serious now. “I don’t understand.”

She gives me a sad smile. “The fact that you don’t reminds me of all the reasons I have to say no. So I guess we’re at a standoff. Neither of us is giving in.”

“Ugh. I miss girls who act stupid.”

She turns to me, her expression a warning that she better not have heard me right. “What?”

“You know what I mean. You’re twisting my balls until they’re fucking blue. At least other girls pretended to be dumb so I could talk them into raunchy acts that would make everyone but a porn star blush. Well, maybe a few of them, too. But you…” I sigh. “All brains and ethics and doing things right. I’m not used to that.”

Keeley laughs at me like she can’t do anything else. “Poor baby. And now I’m making your life miserable.”

“Yeah.”

“Because I won’t be your quick, conscienceless lay.”

“Something like that.” But there’s more.

“You know, I’m not the only woman on this island.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re telling me to go fuck someone else?”

“We’re not committed.”

That answer absolutely pisses me off. “I’ve zeroed in on who I want.”

She cocks her head at me, chin slightly tilted, hair brushing her arm. “We’ve talked about this. Just because you want me doesn’t mean you can have me.”

The teasing has turned serious, and I need to make myself clear. “You should rethink that. When I want something, I will pursue it to the ends of the earth. If necessary, I will still be reaching for it when I take my dying breath. I will obsess day and night until I have what I want.”

She tries to look unmoved, but I see a little shiver run through her as I stop in front of the door that’s our destination.

“I believe you,” Keeley assures. “This crazy plan to sabotage your brother that you’ve dragged me into proves you’re persistent. But you’re forgetting something: you don’t own me. Just like you’re free to fuck someone else, I’m free to do the same.” After tossing out that zinger, she tries to peek through the glass door. “Why are we here…wherever here is? This place closed ten minutes ago according to their sign.”

Before I point out that she is not free to fuck anyone but me for the next three weeks—and maybe never—the door opens. A woman in her mid-forties greets us with a wide smile. “Hi. Maxon Reed?”

I hold in a curse. This is a terrible time for the sales associate to be helpful. But she’s bending the rules for me. We have two hours to accomplish a shitload. I can’t afford to waste a minute. I’ll table this discussion with Keeley…for now.

“Yeah.” I shake the woman’s hand. “Thanks for seeing us after hours, Jennifer. You have what I asked for?”

“Absolutely. Come on in.” She steps back to admit us, then locks the door.

Keeley peers around curiously at the tasteful, upscale boutique of ladies’ clothes. Most of it is resort casual with a few evening-out pieces. I see shoes, belts, bags, hats—all kinds of stuff artfully placed on the walls surrounding the racks of clothes.

What I don’t see are the sorts of garments I requested. “Where?”

“In the back. Have a seat,” she invites with a smile, gesturing to a stuffed chair she’s dragged near a fitting room. Once I comply, she smiles. “You must be Keeley.”

My pretty accomplice nods cautiously. “I am.”

“Excellent.” She scans Keeley up and down. “Size eight?”

“Mostly. Sometimes a ten, depending.” She shrugs. “I like food.”

“I do, too.” Jennifer pats her slightly rounded stomach, but really, for a woman at least a decade older than me, she’s definitely fuckable. The me of a couple of weeks ago would totally have done her. “You look great, and I have plenty of things that should fit perfectly. Size medium underwear?”

“Yes, but—”

“And you’re a…” Jennifer cuts in and dissects Keeley. “I’m guessing a 34C?”

“In the neighborhood. Sometimes a D,” she says, turning a bit red.

I don’t know why she’s blushing. She sounds hot. Hell, she is hot. I’ve handled all the goods. Not as much as I’d like to. Not as much as I plan to. But Keeley has absolutely no reason to be embarrassed.

“Good. Sit tight. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

When Jennifer disappears into the employee-only area, Keel

ey whips her gaze around to me. “You’re dressing me from the skin out, including lingerie?”

“Yes,” I growl just loud enough for her to hear me. “And let’s get one thing clear: you are not free to fuck anyone else when