Dirty Deeds

  whistles. That hadn’t bothered her. The way Nathan had retreated into polite, disinterested mode bothered her far more.

  Sure, he’d introduced her to his friends and sat with her during dinner, fielding questions about their “relationship.” But that was all. They hadn’t exchanged one personal private word. The minute Nancy, Tina and Vickie had descended on her like long-lost friends, he’d bailed with a profound look of relief.

  Still, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Although he hung out with the other men surrounding the barbecue pit, he didn’t join in their eruptions of laughter. Did he ever relax? Or was she the cause of his disgruntled demeanor?

  When Roger handed Nathan a fifth beer—yes, it was pathetic to admit she’d been counting—she sighed, wondering how she’d fare driving his big rig home.

  Cold fear curled in the pit of her stomach.

  Unless that was Nathan’s plan? Get drunk and have one of his buddies drop her off at her house to prove he still had the upper hand?

  He turned. Their gazes collided and he glanced away again without so much as a smile. His indifference stung. Right then Tate decided the deal was off. She’d suck up her stupid pride and borrow the money to finish the landscaping. Listening to Ryan berate her for her shortsightedness didn’t seem nearly as awful as the dismissive expression in Nathan’s eyes.

  But isn’t that what you did? a little voice piped up inside her head. Dismissed Nathan? By telling him you’d have no part of more social situations? Can you blame the guy for distancing himself?

  Her stomach roiled as that bit of knowledge settled in. This time it was her fault. Confused, she fled into the house in search of solitude.

  In the kitchen, piles of barbequed chicken and ribs, potato salad, fruit and relish trays left over from dinner were spread out on the marble countertops. Tate popped a green grape into her mouth and searched for a glass. Her stomach rumbled at the same time she found the ice bucket and bottled water.

  She considered her situation. She could march out there and demand someone take her home. Or she could call a cab and sneak away. She could walk… Yeah, maybe she could sprout wings and fly.

  A bottle of Absolut Peppar vodka rattled on the bar cart as the back door slammed shut and Nathan stalked into view.

  Lordy, Lordy, looked like they were going to scrap this out, right here, right now. Tate sipped the water, wetting the dryness in her mouth.

  The door slammed again, and the house teemed with people. Amidst the chaos, she tried to slip away, but Nathan caught her elbow and dragged her to the secluded entryway.

  Every annoyed breath he pulled into his lungs echoed in the small space. But he didn’t speak. His hands were shoved in his shorts pockets as he paced.

  “Can you find someone to take me home?”

  He quit moving. “Don’t want to be seen with me?”

  “Why is that always the first question you ask? You must think I’m shallow.”

  “If that’s not it, then why are you so hot to leave?”

  “Because you’ve been hitting the beer pretty hard.”

  “Two beers, Tate.” He held up his fingers in a V shape. “Two.”

  “No. I watched—”

  “You were watching to see how much I drank? Got a high opinion of me, don’t you?”

  Tate bristled. “When I’m riding with someone else, I make it my business to watch. And I’ve seen your friend Roger bringing you beer. Five,” she mimicked, holding up her palm, fingers splayed wide. “Five at my last count.” Upending her glass, she sucked a large ice chunk into her mouth to keep from spewing any more angry words.

  Nathan loomed over her. “You’re right on the count, but how many did you actually see me drink?” His dangerous laugh touched her every open nerve. “Who’d blame me if I used beer to erase the dirty thoughts I’m having about all the things I want to do to you?”

  Tate blinked at him.

  He muttered, “Hell with it.” His lips slammed down on hers and he thrust his tongue inside her mouth.

  The demanding tip of his tongue met the ice cube. He froze for an instant and began slowly sucking the ice cube simultaneously with her tongue.

  Chills coated her body. Warm lips, hot tongue, cold ice. The sensations assaulted her and she melted into his embrace while he seduced her with the erotic play. Tender tugs, teasing sips, the velvet slide of his lips followed by the cool hardness of the ice. When the freeze became too intense, he sucked the cube into his mouth. His tongue might be cold but nothing cooled the need in his every touch. When the ice cube was reduced to liquid, he backed off.

  Tate nearly toppled over, reeling from the loss of his muscled body against hers.

  His tight grip on her shoulders softened into a caress. “Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been staying away from you?”

  She held his gaze. “I don’t want you to stay away from me, Nathan.”

  “That’s not what you said earlier.”

  “Sorry.” She wound a wayward strand of his dark silky hair around her pinky. “Is that why you stayed away?”

  “No.” His intense gaze quickened her breath. “Because I get one whiff of you and I’m instantly hard. Images of what we’ve done, what I dream of doing to you, start a continual loop in my head. I want more.”

  “More what?” Her finger quit twirling his hair. She studied him, needing absolute clarity on what he wanted before she offered him anything. Or everything.

  “More of you and me exploring the nuclear reaction between us.” He nuzzled her neck. “You smell good.” His palms rasped over her nipples. “You feel good. Know what else I’ve noticed?”

  “What?”

  “How good you taste.”

  She gasped when his cold tongue flicked across her clavicle, turning her skin into a mass of gooseflesh. Then he sucked the air from her ear and every coherent thought clean out of her head.

  His erection teased her stomach as he pressed her against the wall. “I want you right now.”

  “Did you forget we are in Steve and Nancy’s foyer?”

  No.” His locked his gaze onto hers and he slid his hand around to cup her bottom.

  Her blush bloomed across her chest, increasing the heavy ache in her breasts. “Let’s go back to my house.”

  “Don’t think I can wait that long.” His eyes glittered with a challenge. “Remember when you said you wanted to be daring?”

  Her heartbeat zoomed to warp speed. “You just said—”

  “Not here specifically, but somewhere around here.”

  “Like a coat closet?” Visions of her bare back rubbing against mink, Nathan’s mouth muffling her cries as he pounded into her, sent another surge of heat rocketing through her system.

  “Downstairs would be more private.” His nostrils flared. “You are just as turned on by this idea as I am.” As if to prove his point, he bent his head and sucked her nipple hard through the thin material of her dress.

  Tate shuddered.

  The cocky man chuckled. “You want this.”

  She did. Desperately. No more games. “You’ve got a condom?”

  “Baby, I’ve got two.” His hot breath fanned over her breast. “Want to hear my idea?”

  Tate stroked his sex through the material of his shorts, flicking her tongue back and forth over his bottom lip. “No. Show me. Show me now.”

  Grabbing her hand, he propelled them down the darkened circular staircase.

  Her palms were clammy, her heart raced, the inside of her thighs were soaked. The ice in her glass rattled with every rapid step.

  At the end of an endless hallway, while kissing her senseless, he pushed her through a doorway.

  “Where are we?” she whispered.

  “Bathroom,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “How do you know—”

  “I’ve played poker here for the last five years. I probably know Steve’s den and this basement better than my own.” Once inside the small space, he shut the door, locke
d it and didn’t bother flipping on the lights.

  The black void was absolute.

  Tate couldn’t see, but she sensed Nathan’s uneven breathing matched her own. “It’s awfully dark in here,” she whispered. She withheld a moan as his tongue skated up her arm, light as a butterfly kiss.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, working the soft straps of her dress down her shoulders with his teeth. “I can feel my way.”

  “I’ll bet you can.” She set the glass beside her, wanting no more distractions.

  Amidst heated caresses, hungry kisses, Nathan tugged at the straps on her dress until it fell to the floor.

  His large, skilled hands raced over her bared flesh. Then stopped.

  She laughed softly when his hand encountered her naked butt.

  “Tate?” he said in a strangled voice.

  “Surprise.”

  Tate wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  Nathan’s brain repeated the phrase like a mantra. Tate wasn’t wearing any underwear. Tate wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  “Nice surprise. Did you plan—”

  “N-n-o,” she stuttered. “I was hot—”

  “I haven’t even begun to get you hot,” he growled, settling her bare backside against the counter.

  She curled her hands around his face. Her sweet breath drifted over his jaw as she tried to find his lips in the dark. “Show me. Make me burn, Nathan.”

  This was the moment. No turning back.

  Nathan swept his thumb across her bottom lip, following the teasing motion with his tongue. “Every inch of you is so tempting I don’t know where to start.”

  A beat passed. She set his hands on her breasts, which were rising and falling with her every ragged breath. “Start here.” Her heart beat wildly beneath his palm. “I love the way you touch me. Touch me any way you want.”

  Floored by her complete surrender, Nathan captured her mouth, licking at her sweetness until he was drunk on her taste. He slid his leg in between hers, growling at the satiny feel of her bare thighs brushing against the coarse hair on his.

  The complete absence of light proved a challenge. He couldn’t witness her beautiful face lost in pleasure, see her eyes glaze over, watch her body language. He might miss the usual signals.

  Tate’s muscled legs locked around his knee, holding him still while she rubbed her molten core against his thigh.

  No mixed signals there.

  Drawing his fingertips from hipbone to hipbone, he suctioned his mouth to the skin below her ear in the manner that drove her mad.

  Her needy moan sang through his system.

  She broadened her stance, urging him with tiny hip thrusts to take advantage of unfettered access to the wet heat taunting him. Her head turned to seek his lips.

  He denied her the kiss, skating his mouth over her temple instead. “Do you really want me, right here, right now?”

  “Yes.” In her zeal to drag him closer she accidentally knocked over the glass she’d placed on the counter.

  Icy water splashed on his hand. Nathan fished a chunk of ice from the cup, keeping Tate distracted by slipping his tongue inside her mouth and cupping her breast. Then he rubbed the ice back and forth over her rigid nipple.

  She gasped in his mouth and pulled away. “That’s cold.”

  “But you like it.” Nathan blew across the frozen tip, his body absorbing her shudder. “I can tell.”

  He scattered kisses over her face, drawing ever larger, ever wetter circles around her breast as her hot skin seared the ice to a small sliver. Her surprised shriek echoed in the space when he tugged the cold nub inside his warm mouth.

  “Oh. My. God.” She arched closer for more.

  Nathan suckled hard, arcing the ice to the other breast. Water ran down her body. Damn if he didn’t long to trace that wet path with his tongue before it turned into nothing but a vapor trail.

  After grabbing a larger piece of ice, he moved the frosty cube down her center with painstaking precision. He stopped at the dampened curls, letting the cold water mingle with the hot, slick moisture between her thighs.

  “That’s freezing,” she said. “You’re making me shiver.”

  His heavy whisper hung in the darkness. “I want you shivering. I want you aching. I want you so mindless with need that when I’m inside you, you’ll understand why the wait was worth it.”

  She whimpered.

  “Nothing exists outside these walls.” A trickle of moisture ran between her breasts, an offering he lapped at greedily. “Spread your legs.” He moved the ice cube down over her pouting sex, rubbing that swollen female flesh until she rolled her hips with a needy cry. Hot. Wet. All for him. A heady sense of satisfaction yowled in his head, rumbled in his blood, and increased the throbbing in his groin.

  Balancing the small cube between two fingers, he parted her slick folds and pushed the ice inside her, covering her gasping protest with a plundering kiss. He flicked his thumb over the clit.

  The cold sensation of the ice coupled with the friction of his fingers made her writhe, whimper and buck.

  Her fiery sheath clamped around him as he brought her to orgasm. She let loose a long moan, digging her fingers into his biceps. Her body shook violently from the vibrations.

  He growled, “I want to drop to my knees, bury my face between your thighs. Lick every drop of water from the inside of your body out.”.

  Tate nearly ripped his shorts in the struggle to depants him. His belt buckle clanked against the tile floor as she succeeded. “Now,” she pleaded, yanking at his briefs.

  “Whoa. Hold on. Let’s just slow down for a sec—”

  “Too late.” She frantically kissed the corded muscles in his neck, punctuating her need with a tiny nip.

  Nathan caught her hips when she lifted the lower part of her body off the counter. He drew one finger down her cleft, through the quivering wetness. “I love the way you heat up for me.”

  “Heat up?” Tate echoed, rocking her pelvis forward. “I’m on fire. If you don’t get that condom out, I swear I’m going to burn up.”

  He smiled in the dark, pausing to sample one velvety nipple. “Can’t have that. Tell me what you want.”

  “What I want, Nathan, is what I’ve always wanted since the day we met. You.” Tate pressed openmouthed kisses to his sternum, swirling her tongue through his scant chest hair.

  “If my memory serves me, the counter is too low.” He shoved his groin forward, bumping into her breastbone. “The door is too flimsy. It can’t withstand the thrusting power I have in store for you.”

  Tate whimpered when he cupped her still-molten core and slid one finger inside.

  “Not enough room to stretch out on the floor,” he offered as the fierce pulling of her internal muscles tugged his finger deeper. In between sips of her heated, fragrant flesh, he changed the angle of his hand. “That leaves the shower stall”—he stroked her clit faster—“or the—”

  “The shower!”

  “Excellent choice.” He withdrew his finger to trail her sweet-scented moisture up her torso and followed the path with his mouth where they shared the taste of her.

  Tate tried to simultaneously rub her nakedness over his, scale up his body and eliminate his shirt.

  Her musky female scent surrounding them in the tiny, humid space made him feel as if he’d climbed inside her. He fumbled for the condom from his shorts pocket before kicking his clothes away.

  Scattering kisses on her face, he whispered roughly, “Knees on the edge of the bathtub and grab the acrylic bar.”

  The words spilled from his mouth as a primitive growl. Fire raced through his blood as the need to brand Tate as his, consumed his every thought.