Flirting With Disaster (6 page)

“
Your nails look like you
get manicures,” she accused, but with a smile. “Not
surprising.”

He flexed his hand. “I don't.” His voice was
tight and gruff.

She swallowed. His deepened timbre did
something to her. From him...it was a warning, but she couldn't
stop touching him. They hadn't really touched before. And his skin
was so smooth outside of the roughened nicks…and somehow this
knowledge thrilled her. She didn't have a hand fetish, so the
sudden dampness in her panties made no sense. All she'd meant to do
was make a quick comparison. Not this.

This
had seemed innocent and maybe her intent had been a bit
dismissive—he'd be exactly the man she'd knew him to be, but she
couldn't ball her fist and stop. Touching him like this should have
turned awkward by now but his breathing had deepened. Her cheeks
had flushed, and she had the urge to squirm to ease the throb
between her legs. Didn't take long for her mind to jump to how his
hand would feel pressed against her breasts, or how those small,
but rough, nicks would feel brushing along her clit.

At that thought, she could drop his
hand.

“
Is it my turn?” His voice
was still gruff.

She forced herself to look at him. “For
what?” she asked nervously, because his hazel eyes had
darkened.

“
Getting to know
you?”

She was close enough to see his pupils had
dilated. That was her fault. She'd been stroking his hand in the
middle of the town square for a long enough time any man in his
position would have been aroused.

He didn't look like he should have been
trusted to leave her misstep at that. But this was Dane. She could
accuse him of having some Neanderthal beliefs, but he had
self-control. He was a realist—pigheaded at times—but a man prone
to following passion? No.

His lids were low and his nostrils flared
when she licked her lips.

Or was he exactly that kind of man?

“
Okay,” she said
slowly.

He shook his head. “For the record, you
started it.”

“
That's so...”

Dane wore an expression like he wanted to
drag her off somewhere, and the words died mid-thought. He used the
hand she'd molested to cup the back of her head. There was enough
time to put her palm to his forehead to make sure he wasn't
suddenly feverish and delusional. But her skin was hot, her head a
bit woozy and her heart was going to pound right out of her chest.
This was only the prelude to the kiss.

He inched forward until his
mouth was
right there.
He held her gaze, giving her all the time in the damn world to
tell him to stop, to push him away. She wanted to say curiosity got
the better of her, but that would be a lie. A big fat one because
all she wanted was his lips, his tongue.

He nipped at her bottom lip. Her mouth
tingled at the tease, and then he ran his tongue over the same
spot. She moaned, her mouth parting. Dane shifted and his tongue
delved deeper. Slowly. Just when she was getting used to the
intrusion, he jerked back.

Dane's brows pulled down. He looked
pissed—as if he were beyond irritated that he wanted to continue to
kiss her. Or annoyed the brief touch hadn’t been enough.

His grunt sounded frustrated right before he
dragged her to him again. He slanted his mouth over hers and sucked
her bottom lip.

That's when her brain said, “Nope. I'm done
working.”

She balled her hands into his sweater in
case he had a thought of pulling away again and looking at her like
he was angry about the kiss. He'd started it, and he damn well
would finish it. He must have understood what her grabbing him
meant—she wasn't exactly shy—because he kissed her like he wanted
to own her. He controlled when she could breathe or moan. He
dictated her actions with his tongue and teeth.

And when she moaned, he used his mouth as a
reward. When she didn't, he nipped at her again as some twisted
punishment that only made her wetter.

That's when her brain got
to working, whispering words like
more,
now, lower, bite, tongue, deeper
. Brooke
couldn't do anything about that.

His next groan sounded more frustrated than
the last. He drew her closer. Another tug and she'd be on his lap.
She wanted them skin to skin, but she'd take his lap instead. In
the heated moment with him, nothing else mattered, but his mouth
and hands.

Dane just needed to keep kissing her like he
was hungry for the taste of her. And that he was mad about needing
to taste her.

Someone cleared their throat, and it wasn't
either Brooke or Dane, because she was moaning, and he'd growled,
low. She shivered. The noise came again and Brooke finally had the
sense to push Dane back.

Naomi stood behind the bench, her brows up,
a smile on her face. Her friend just looked pleased to watch their
post by-play.

Brooke glanced at Dane. He looked mussed.
More than once she'd wondered how he'd look disheveled, and the
reality was much better than her imagination. She'd been the
culprit who’d ruffled his expensive sweater—who’d tented his jeans
and put real scruffs on his boots as he did his best to get close
to her.

He still wore the kind of expression where
he looked to be one muscle twitch away from throwing her over his
shoulder and taking her someplace private. The way they'd been
going at...

Brooke placed two fingers over her swollen
lips, doing her best not to glance at Dane again, because she would
let him cart her off and do something caveman to her.

He cleared his throat. “Hey, Naomi.”

Brooke had been right. Her friend had just
been happy to watch their awkward post-kiss reactions. “Dane, how
are you today?”

He laughed at the not-so-innocent question.
Out the corner of her eye, she could see him reaching for his
laptop. “I'm just going to head back to work.” For a long moment he
was quiet. “Brooke,” he said.

He hadn't said her name any
differently. She frowned, because there were the two choices again:
lust or loathing. How long had he looked at her like that? Since
the first time they'd exchanged harsh words. Yeah, for a year. But
knowing the difference, without a doubt? Brooke definitely couldn't
ask with Naomi standing there, so
she made
a noise that sat somewhere between frustrated and
horny.

“
Like we were talking about
before...with the calendars,” she said.

“
Huh,” he said, narrowing
his eyes at her. “I'll email you a list of bachelors.”

“
Bachelors?” Naomi
asked.

His gaze swung to Brooke for confirmation,
and the heat had yet to dim. He said, “We're doing another calendar
to compare the demographics between a bachelor one and the cars
one. Brooke and I have a bet on it.”

“
What's the wager?” her
friend asked.

A simple question, but Brooke was too
distracted to immediately answer. His lips were swollen. She'd made
them that way. She'd mauled him in the town square and wanted to do
it again.

She looked away to Naomi. “We hadn't ironed
out that part yet.”

“
Lunch tomorrow?” He
straightened his collar. Back to being clean-cut Dane, but
clean-cut or not, he kissed with an edge.

Shit. She didn't care about the fear of him
being just like her ex, changing herself for him. All she wanted
was to experience Dane who kissed with an edge again.

“
Sure.”

She couldn't help the head tilt when he
walked away. What his hands and mouth felt like would be at the
forefront of her mind for days. Maybe weeks. She wanted to know
what his legs felt like between hers.

Okay. She was lying to herself. The first
order of business would be finding out just how firm his ass was.
She cursed and closed her eyes. The bench wobbled. She peeked and
saw her friend's smile had widened as she down.

Brooke sighed, disgruntled. “Just get it out
now so we can move on and I can eat the rest of my ham sandwich in
peace.”

Naomi crossed her legs, turning toward her.
“You aren't my friend anymore, remember? So I'm not going to ask.
Tell me how many cars you need.”

“
If I were a violent person
I'd flick you in the forehead right now. It's what my big brother
taught me.”

“
Shaking in my heels.”
Naomi cleared her throat. “Well, I guess that means the calendar is
going well. Glad to have this update. I'll talk to the photographer
to see if she will be willing to do the bachelor
calendar.”

“
And maybe you should be
on-site for it.”

Naomi glared at the subtle suggestion for
her to find a lover. “I bet Dane will be on the list of
bachelors.”

This was her chance. She thought of what
would be worse than getting caught kissing him. Absolutely nothing.
“And I'd be there with bells and whistles. Happy?”

“
Not until you sound happy
about it.” Naomi paused. “Not until you tell me what
happened.”

Brooke had been inspecting his hand and then
his mouth was on hers. It still felt natural and right. It was
crazy. “Chemistry.”

“
And?”

Brooke didn't know what happened, what had
changed to even begin to dissect it. “I don't like him any more
than I did this morning. I never said he wasn't good looking.”

“
But you never kissed him
before, either.”

Brooke ran her tongue over her bottom lip.
She could almost feel the soft nips again. “A fluke.”

Naomi shook her head. “Eat your
sandwich.”

“
Happily.” But unease had
started to spread through her stomach.

“
Do know as soon as you're
done, I'm calling Peyton and telling her what I just
witnessed.”

Brooke looked around the town square. It
wasn't empty, never really was. Who else had witnessed the kiss?
Probably enough people that she was doomed either way. She would
never hear the end of this.

She bit viciously into her sandwich. “I'm
screwed, aren't I?”

“
Pretty much. But think of
it this way, folks will finally stop talking about Peyton and Tate.
You jumped on a grenade and was a good friend.”

She snorted. “When you put it like
that...”

Still, unease kept her shoulders tight.
Nothing had changed. She found a lot about Dane troubling. He'd
kissed her like he wanted to own her because he wouldn't know any
other way. That unease spread further and she put the rest of her
sandwich back down, having lost her appetite.

CHAPTER FIVE

Dane leaned against his car and met his
friend Reid's bewildered gaze.

“
Why are you standing
outside the bar?” Reid asked. His sandy brown hair appeared black
in the darkness of the Grog's parking lot. He held a fedora in his
right hand, and the man tapped it against his thigh in an impatient
rhythm. When he wasn't wearing his police uniform, he tended to
wear dark jeans and black shirts. Tonight was no different. With an
actual night off, no on-call, of course they'd be at The Grog
Monster. It was Reid's sister's bar, and that's just where people
in Tanner Creek went on Friday nights.

Dane answered with, “Waiting for you and
Tate.”

Reid frowned. “When did we go into The Grog
in groups?”

A car door slammed next to Dane. Tate
climbed out of his truck. Tall but solid, he rose to his full
height. “When Dane decided to have public sex on a bench with
Brooke.”

Reid laughed. “Heard about that. Is she in
there?”

Dane groaned. “We kissed. It wasn't
sex.”

Tate snorted. “Same difference in this
town.”

Reid's grin widened. “I think he's nervous.
Are your palms sweaty? Is your heart racing? O-M-G.” Reid made his
voice sound all breathy and girlish. “I have such a crush on
her.”

Tate laughed and added, “Her hair is so
soft. I can't wait until I can run my fingers through it
again.”

“
Fuck you both.” But Dane
laughed too. “If I'm going to have to deal with this all night, I
need a drink.”

Reid clapped him on the back as they walked
toward the bar. “Aw, don't pout. I'm surprised it's taken you this
long. All that arguing was going to lead to sex eventually.”

Tate whispered, “I think we made him
blush.”

Reid whispered back, “I bet he does when he
sees her.” He raised his voice. “So, how's the calendar going?”

Dane grinned. “Jackasses, the both of you.”
He got a thought, one not so nice. “Matter of fact, I want you guys
in the one I'm putting together.” He didn't give them any other
details and considered it payback. “Are you in?”

“
Sure. Anything for the
town,” Reid answered.

Tate's dark brows drew down and looked wary,
but he nodded in agreement. Dane laughed and pushed the saloon
doors. The Grog was packed. The noise of it washed over him. There
were a ton of familiar faces, and when those curious gazes in the
crowd caught sight of the two most talked about people in town, he
could see the whispers starting.

Not surprising, Tate took it in stride,
already looking for his girlfriend in the mass of people. A smile
broke out on the man's face but he didn't move from inside the
doorway.

Dane's gaze followed the direction the man
had looked and Peyton strutted over. She snatched her brother's hat
out of his hands. Without missing a step, she slapped it on her
head and jumped into Tate's waiting embrace. Beside him, Reid made
a disgusted noise and headed for the bar. Dane followed because
this was a ritual for Tate and Peyton. The kissing would go on for
as long as they wanted.