Kitabı oku: «Seducing The Best Man»

Acknowledgments

To my daughters, future writers and exceptional brainstorming partners.

Huge thanks to my agent, Pamela Hopkins, for telling me to go for it with this book.

Johanna Raisanen, thanks for giving me this opportunity and your support. And Kathleen Scheibling, thanks for helping me find a yummy drink with olives.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgments

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

1

CADY WAS GLAD she was running late. It gave her time to recover from the hotter-than-hell man sitting at the table across the restaurant, waiting for her. Bianca had said he was good-looking. Good-looking? She and Bianca needed to have a serious talk. This man was meant for getting naked and savoring long lazy days in bed. Or long, sleepless nights in bed...in the shower...on the couch...in the car.

She trailed behind the server to the table, giving herself time to appreciate her date. Broad shoulders. Strong jaw with just the right amount of stubble. Black hair. “Patton?” she held her hand out, unable to deny the slight purr in her voice.

His pale eyes were unexpected beneath his thick eyebrows and inky-black hair. But, pow, they packed a punch—and left a not-so-subtle fire pulsing through her veins.

He stood, towering over her five-foot-two-inch frame. “Cady?”

She nodded, arching a brow. “Guilty.” Her brain was filled with all sorts of delectable possibilities.

The corner of his mouth cocked up, and he took her hand in his, shaking it once. His hand was rough, warm and huge. His fingers wrapped around hers, strong but controlled. She couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on her body, uncontrolled.

She sat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, smiling at him.

He didn’t smile back. “No problem,” he murmured, sitting across from her.

“Good evening, I’ll be your server this evening,” their waiter gushed. She took the offered menu, using the opportunity to subtly assess the delicious surprise that was her date.

A quick glance told her he was doing the same thing. But, unlike her, he wasn’t trying to be subtle about it. He was staring; his pale blue eyes inspected her with a meticulousness that bordered on rudeness.

“We have a lovely house red this evening,” the server offered enthusiastically.

“I’d like a Whiskey Special, extra olives.” She smiled up at their server and he smiled back. He was good-looking. If Bianca were here, she could explain the difference to her. Questionable manners or not, her date was in another class altogether.

“I’ll have a beer.” Patton’s voice was all gravel and rasp, sending delightful shivers along her spine.

Cady looked at Patton and tucked the same strand of hair behind her ear.

The server excused himself and left them with the menus.

“Who did this to you?” she asked, scanning the menu without looking up.

“What?” he asked, clearly confused by her question.

“Who set you up?” She looked at him, grinning. “Friend or family?”

He gave her a lopsided grin in return. “Family.” His gaze held hers. “You?”

“Friend.”

His gaze wandered along her neck to the shoulder peeking out of her black sweater. “More pressure that way.”

“Really?” Why did it feel as though he was touching her? She shivered.

“You’re stuck with family.” His eyes returned to her face. “Friends are optional.”

“Ouch,” she laughed. “Not this one, not really.”

He sat the menu aside, but his steely gaze never left her face. She stared right back, exploring the strong jaw and razor-sharp features. He wasn’t pretty-boy-handsome, he was...overwhelming.

“Know what you want?”

He smiled—revealing a dimple. “For dinner?”

She was going to need a cold shower soon. “Isn’t that what we’re talking about?” She swallowed.

“Sure.” He sat back in his chair, resting one hand on the table. He stared at her shoulder again.

She cocked her head. “A man of many words.”

He shrugged, the lopsided grin returning.

“Conversation helps with things like first dates.” She sat forward. “I’ll start. Let me guess, you’re getting a steak?”

He nodded.

The server delivered their drinks. “Ready to order?”

“Steak, medium rare, baked potato and house salad.” Patton handed the menu to their server. He may be hot, but he definitely needed to work on his manners.

“And for the lady?”

Cady smiled up at their server. “I’m not sure—”

“I can come back when you’re ready.” Their server glanced between them.

“No, no. I hate to keep a man waiting.” She took a sip of her drink. “I’ll have what the gentleman’s having.”

“Very good.” The server took their menus, shot her another smile and left.

Patton’s fingers tapped the table—as if he was distracted or restless. She watched the slight narrowing of his eyes, the occasional twitch of his jaw, the thinning of his lips as he assessed each and every person in the room. He surprised her when he said, “If you weren’t ready, you could have said so.”

“Or you could have asked.” She took another sip of her drink.

Patton’s eyes pinned her, the raw intensity in their depths searing her cheeks. His nod was slight, hardly perceptible. His jaw tightened as his entire focus centered on her mouth. She might just be willing to excuse his bad manners.

Who knew a blind date could turn out so...interesting? Bianca had tried to set her up before, determined to help her find Mr. Right. She didn’t get Cady’s satisfaction with Mr. Right Now. And the men she’d set her up with...it never went well. So when Bianca promised this would be her last attempt ever, Cady had agreed. She had no expectations tonight, except dinner. But now...she couldn’t remember ever feeling such a raw, instant attraction to a man. All sorts of tingle-inducing expectations were forming.

Her phone vibrated.

After a month of troubleshooting into the wee hours of the morning, she should have known it was too much to ask for a night to herself. But she’d been saddled with Charles, the boss’s son, who couldn’t go to the bathroom without consulting her first. If she wanted a promotion and all the trappings that came with it, she had to deal with Charles’s crappy program debugs and shoddy work ethic. She pulled her phone from her pocket and sat it on the table. “Excuse me,” she murmured, reading the message.

“Everything okay?”

“Ever feel like you’re the only one that knows what they’re doing?” she asked, answering the text.

“Every day,” he answered.

She paused midtext and glanced at him. “It’s exhausting, isn’t it?” Was he looking at her hands? Her wrists?

“But necessary—if you want things to get done right,” his voice rumbled.

She ignored the thrill that rumble elicited, hit Send and slid the phone aside. “Exactly.” Maybe they did have something in common...

“Work?” he asked, motioning at her phone with the beer bottle in his hand.

She nodded.

He glanced at his watch. “You keep odd hours?”

“I guess. But my job is time-sensitive, so if I get a text, I answer it.”

“You enjoy that? Being on call?”

She knew he was watching her as she lifted the olive-laden toothpick to her mouth and pulled one off with her teeth. But she didn’t answer until she’d swallowed the olive and taken a sip of her drink. “I enjoy being in charge.” She rested her elbows on the table, fully aware that her sweater slid farther off her shoulder. Fully aware that he was staring at her shoulder. She liked the way his jaw clenched. She liked the way her body tightened, yearning for this man. Her voice was a little husky when she added, “I work hard to keep it that way.”

His gaze slammed into hers, knocking the air from her lungs. He wanted her. From the way he white-knuckled his beer bottle, he wanted her badly. That was very good news.

“What do you do? What are you in charge of?” He took a long swig of beer.

“For work?”

“Isn’t that what we’re talking about?” He cocked an eyebrow, leveling her with a lethal, crooked grin.

“Sure,” she teased. “I’m a systems security analyst.”

His eyebrows rose. She wasn’t sure, but he looked impressed.

“I know. Computers. It sounds super exciting, doesn’t it?” She grinned, leisurely enjoying a second olive.

He shifted in his chair, setting his beer on the table a little harder than necessary.

She bit back a smile. “And you?”

“I’m a cop.” He sighed. “A detective.”

It took everything she had not to say something about handcuffs. She really wanted to. “Really?” She should not be thinking about Patton and his handcuffs. Oh hell, there was no way she could stop thinking about Patton and handcuffs.

His eyes narrowed, the muscle in his cheek jumping. “You’re pretty easy to read.”

Cady’s cheeks were on fire but she met his gaze. “Then I guess we don’t need to worry about foreplay.”

* * *

HE KNEW AN invitation when he heard one. His body accepted. But he’d be damned if he let his dick make his mind up for him tonight. He tore his gaze from hers, on the verge of exploding. His one-night-stand days were over; he’d outgrown the thrill of the hunt years ago. But if he did, she would be impossible to resist.

Focusing on something else—anything else—was impossible. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Petite, feminine and a whole lot of fire. Sleek auburn hair, cut short along her jawline, interrupted by a bold stripe of blond. He didn’t like short hair on a woman, but he couldn’t deny there was something very appealing about Cady’s slender neck. Every damn time she tucked the blond strand of hair behind her ear, he imagined sucking on her ear lobe. And her shoulder... His hand itched to slip inside the neck of her low-hanging sweater. He wanted the weight of her breast in his hand. He wanted to touch her, to taste her.

What the hell was wrong with him? After working three days straight, he’d wanted to go home, walk the dog, watch some sports, nuke his dinner and sleep for a good ten hours.

His family was worried about him, he knew that. They all wanted him to get out and live a little—let go of what happened. This blind date was his brother Zach’s idea. A date that wasn’t supposed to happen, but he’d forgotten to cancel. Now, Patton couldn’t decide whether he wanted to thank his brother, or knock his lights out. There was no way Zach could know how Cady would affect him, but still... Looking at Cady, tonight he really did want to “live a little.”

Her fingernails were dark blue, a stark contrast to her pale skin. He watched her small, agile fingers stir the olive-skewered toothpick in her drink. If she used her little pink tongue on one more damn olive, he was going to break something. Her huge brown eyes fixed on her drink. And her mouth... He took another long pull of his beer. Her lips were full and red and meant for tasting.

“See anything you like?” She looked at him, peeking up at him through long lashes.

Her words were soft, not nearly as cocky as she meant them to be. But he liked the softness, the hint of uncertainty. It was the hesitancy that made him answer honestly, “Yes.”

She blinked, those full red lips parting.

“I have your salads.” Their salads were placed on the table. “Pepper?”

Patton shook his head. Their pretty-boy waiter and his pepper grinder needed to back the hell away from the table.

“No, thank you,” Cady added, her eyes never wavering from his.

“Another round?” the waiter asked, disappearing at their nod.

“What am I thinking?” Cady asked Patton, her hands loosely resting on either side of her drink.

He shook his head. He didn’t miss the shudder that ran along that bare shoulder or the way her breathing had picked up. The slight flush creeping along her skin told him everything—she was just as worked up as he was.

“Don’t know or won’t say?”

“Maybe I’ll show you later,” he murmured, fascinated by the way her eyes closed briefly and she bit her lower lip.

Her brown eyes were molten, exploring his face. “I’m not that hungry—”

“You will be,” he argued.

She picked up her toothpick, the olive heading for her mouth. A bolt of hunger tightened his already rock-hard erection. His hand encircled her wrist, stopping her. He couldn’t be held responsible for his actions if she ate that damn olive.

“Not a fan of olives?” she asked.

“Not at the moment.” His fingers slid along her forearm, tracing the slight indention at her elbow. He pulled his hand back, the feel of her satin skin still on the tips of his fingers. How long had it been since he’d wanted to touch someone? To feel something? Right now, he’d never wanted anything more. He flexed his hand then gripped the empty beer bottle.

Her phone vibrated again, immediately grabbing her attention. She relaxed, transformed from sexy to sweet by the all-encompassing smile on her face. “It’s Bibi,” she said.

“Bibi?”

“The one who set this up.” She tucked that piece of hair behind her ear again, unknowingly taunting him. “She told me to behave.” Her brown eyes met his.

“What are you telling her?”

“Not likely,” she murmured, her voice breathy.

“Here you go.” The waiter placed their drinks on the table. “Your steaks will be out shortly.”

There was no mistaking the desire in her eyes as she rasped, “Can we get that to go?”

Patton’s pants grew painfully tight.

“To go?” the waiter asked.

“To go,” Patton affirmed. The sooner the better. At the moment, he was seriously contemplating breaking a few laws about what should or shouldn’t be done in public. It was crazy, he knew it, but he didn’t care.

“Of course.” The look of confusion on the waiter’s face as he left was comical.

“Unless you have plans?” she said with a coy grin. “I thought I’d be going to bed early tonight.”

“Oh, you are.” He couldn’t resist, or hold back the smile.

She laughed. “You’re a surprise, Patton.”

He was a surprise? He shook his head.

Their waiter returned long enough to place their to-go bag on the table, setting the small black bill binder on the table. “It was a pleasure serving you this evening.”

Patton pulled his wallet out, tucked several bills in the binder and stood. He came around the table and slid Cady’s chair back for her.

Cady stared up at him. “I knew you had it in you to be a gentleman.” She stood, leaning closer and lowering her voice. “I’m not really looking for a gentleman tonight.”

Patton stared down at her. “Good to know.” The few inches between them was charged with undiluted hunger. He couldn’t resist. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the fullness of her lower lip. The simple touch had her leaning into his hand and him leaning into her. When her lips fastened on his thumb, his breath escaped on a hiss. She smiled up at him, the thrill of power in her gaze a challenge he’d gladly accept.

He took her hand and led her from the restaurant. He had no idea where they were going. It would take too long to get to his place, and he didn’t want to wait. Once they were outside the restaurant, he sized up their options. They were downtown, a place he tended to avoid. But there were perks. Like having two hotels to choose from within walking distance. He picked the closer, heading in that direction. Her fingers twined with his, inflaming and soothing him. He glanced at her, taking in her flushed cheeks and accelerated breathing. She felt it, too.

It took ten minutes to check in to the upscale hotel.

He took the key card, and Cady tugged him into the elevator. He waited until the doors closed behind them before grabbing her around the waist and lifting her to sit on the wooden railing that lined the elevator.

She reached for him, threading her fingers in his hair. “Kiss me.” It was part plea, part demand—the hitch in her voice telling him everything he needed to know. She wasn’t as in control as she pretended to be.

Neither was he.

He bent his head and her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him close. He angled his head, dragging his nose along the shell of her ear and the arch of her neck. Her scent wrapped around him, drawing him to her. He tilted her head back, his mouth grazing her skin where neck met shoulder. She shivered, her skin contracting beneath his lips.

The elevator dinged, forcing them apart. He helped her from the rail before an older couple and several teenagers joined them. She stood in front of him, the curve of her hip resting against the ridged length of his arousal. His hand skimmed along her hip then slid around her waist to rest against the lower part of her stomach. He could feel each unsteady breath.

The ride to the eighth floor took too freaking long.

The elevator dinged, and Cady pulled him from the elevator. She turned into him, knocking them into the wall as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. He caught her, his hand cradling the back of her head. Her lips were soft, welcoming him, opening to him. Her breath, her tongue... When his hand slipped to the bare skin of her shoulder, he couldn’t stop his groan from spilling out into the hallway.

The elevator dinged again behind them, reminding him that they still hadn’t reached their destination. He read the small room number plaque, gripped Cady’s hand and led her to their room. She opened the door and he kicked it shut behind her.

She pulled off her sweater, wriggling out of her gray skirt and heels before he’d caught his breath. And seeing her, in barely-there black panties and a bra that left little to the imagination, knocked the breath out of him again.

He shook his head. “Cady—”

She launched herself at him, pressing those silky curves against his still-dressed chest. He didn’t argue when her hands tore open his shirt, sending buttons flying all over the room. He didn’t give his scars a second thought as he yanked off his undershirt; shedding clothes was the only thing that mattered. He wanted to feel all of her against all of him.

His mouth devoured hers, nipping her lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and sealing them together. She swayed into him but he held her up. He couldn’t get enough of her, deepening the kiss until he was dizzy with the taste of her.

They stumbled across the room to the massive bed, hands and mouths exploring. She lay back on the bed, breathing hard.

“You’re beautiful,” he rasped, meaning it.

She rested on her elbows, staring up at him. “So are you, Patton.” She sat up then, her fingers trailing down his shoulders. She paused at the sight of the scars, but not for long. Then her fingers were stroking down his chest, to his stomach. She tugged his boxer briefs down and smiled, falling back onto her elbows again. “This night just gets better and better.”

He choked on his laughter when those dark-blue-tipped fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Wow,” she whispered.

He knelt, tugging her panties off and throwing them over his shoulder. She watched as his hands explored the dip of her hip, the curve of her thigh, the soft thatch of hair between her legs. Her legs parted for him and he stared up at her. She had no inhibition... And it was sexy as hell. He kissed her stomach, licking her belly button while his hands ran back up her stomach to the satin of her bra.

“Patton,” she whispered. “Please.” She buried her hands in his hair, tugging him up.

His arm held her to the bed as his tongue found the soft nub at her core. Her hands gripped his hair, her moan soft and breathy. He smiled, using the tip of his tongue to set a quick, light rhythm. She tried to arch up, to move, but his arm kept her still. His tongue continued as he slipped a finger deep inside her. Hand and mouth, he fought his own desire until her hands fisted in his hair, her body bowed off the bed and a raw moan tore from her throat. It took everything he had not to bury himself inside her then, but he wasn’t done yet.

He kissed his way up her body, lingering over the ridge of her hip and the underside of her breast. He tugged the lacy cups down so his tongue could explore the tight peaks of her breasts, sucking first one nipple, then the other.

He settled between her thighs, so hard it hurt. “I don’t have any protection—”

“I’m protected.” She paused and took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m clean. Are you?”

He nodded, holding her gaze. She reached for him, gripping his upper arms and hooking one leg around his hips. His breath hitched as he pressed into her slowly. She was so hot, so tight. He closed his eyes briefly, reining in the need to move. But he wanted to see her, to watch her. Her lips parted, her eyes closed. Her hands gripped his forearms tightly, and her head lifted off the bed.

Her hands moved, clasping his hips. “Please.” Her nails dug in.

He eased into her, letting her adjust to him. But when she started to move, he decided to let her take charge—he wanted to watch her. He rolled them, pulling her on top.

She smiled down at him, running her hands across his face and along his shoulders. She braced herself on his chest and began to move. Her back arched, her breasts swaying in time. His hands slid up her sides, cupping her breasts, teasing the nipples that peaked over the lacy cups of her bra. He loved the way she felt, the sounds she made. He pressed kisses to her side and nuzzled the place between her breasts, drawing her scent in.

Her movements grew frenzied, out of control. Her hands moved over his chest, her nails raking across his skin. Each touch, every thrust, pushed him closer. But he held on until her body clenched around him. She cried out, her climax forcing his release. He gripped her hips, holding her tightly against him as his orgasm ripped through him. He couldn’t stop his groan, or ease his hold on her.

She collapsed on his chest, gasping for breath. He stroked the length of her back, his fingers tracing each notch of her spine. She was soft and warm, so he wrapped his arms around her and lay there. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but it felt good. It was the first time—in a long time—that the ache in his heart and the scars on his chest didn’t keep him from falling into a deep, restful sleep.