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Authors: Marie Harte

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

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BOOK: How to Handle a Heartbreaker
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“Yeah. I thought you’d be home Wednesday, but your message said Saturday. So I guess you could say you’re early.”

“Uh-huh. Tell me about you. How’s the writing going?”

She gave him a look.

“What?”

“Is this where you offer to tie me up so I can finish chapter three?”

“Wow. They hit that at chapter three, huh?” He laughed when she smacked his chest. “I’m kidding. I’m sincerely curious about your week. You know what I was doing. Roughing in a custom home with eight fixtures. And Jesus, were the homeowners a pain.”

“They were there?” She dragged a hand from her thigh to his chest and spread her palm.

He felt the heat smack him upside the head, and it started the healing between his legs on the spot. “Yeah. Had to deal with the framers, who were done and leaving, because I had to fix the pipe line. Not pretty when I told them they had to move a few things to get the piping right. And it got worse when Harry Homemaker started adding his two cents, and he knew jack shit about shit.”

“Nice mouth.”

“Sorry. A week without civilization. I think I regressed.”

She grinned.

“But I want to know. What did you do except train my dog to sic balls?”

She coughed to cover yet another laugh, and he found her joy infectious. He had to touch her, so he rubbed her legs while she talked, aware of how her breath hitched at odd times.

“Yeah, well. I was working on my latest proposal when I met the most fascinating woman.” She described Del, then went on to talk about a new idea. “So I’m thinking of making my next heroine a tough cookie. Rough on the outside, a softie on the inside.”

“Like this Del?” Chicks covered in tats had never appealed to him, not that he faulted them for getting what they wanted. Brody liked a softer, stereotypically feminine woman. A woman like Abby.

“I don’t know what she’s really about, though she seemed to like Colin well enough.”

“Everyone likes that little dork.”

She smiled. “Yeah, he grows on you.”

“Like a fungus.”

“Brody, that’s not nice.”

“But true. In that regard he takes after Flynn.”

She laughed.

“So what else did you do?”

“I spent most of my time here. When not training Nanook, I wrote or spent time with Seth and Vanessa.”

“Together?”

“No way. I’m not a glutton for punishment,” she said drily. “Seth is a funny guy. Flynn fixed his sink for him, by the way. No biggie, just a stuck clog, or so Flynn said.”

“Yeah, Flynn mentioned that when I saw him.”

“Oh, and Seth’s still not sure if you’re ‘going gay’ or not, but like he said, no need to cover things up. I told him I wasn’t your beard, but I don’t know that he believed me.”

He felt his cheeks heat.

“Apparently you don’t bring women over. Ever. So you’re either very private, Seth is mistaken, or you really have gone to the other side.” Her smirk made him eager to wipe it away.

“Shut up. This place is a mess. I didn’t want you here either, but I didn’t think you guys would be okay with Mutt at your place.”

“You got that right. That’s why Vanessa cleaned your house from top to bottom. She was bored and OCDing. Be grateful.”

“I am. Trust me.” He settled his hands over her hips and brought her closer to the hungry part of him, now ready to make his dreams a reality. “So you were productive, you handled Seth, Vanessa, and Mutt. You definitely deserve a reward.”

She squirmed over him. “Obviously Mutt didn’t do any lasting damage.”

“Nope. I’m a fast healer. But I’m still aching.”

“I bet.”

He watched her while he slowly slid his hands underneath her sweater and up. “You have soft skin. Like silk.”

Her breathing grew faster as she stared at him. “Your hands are rough. I like it.”

“Good.” He reached to unfasten her bra, and she let him. “I take it you saved all the parts of your stories needing research for me?” To his bemusement, he couldn’t find the hooks on the back of her bra.

“It connects in the front.” She watched him from behind those glasses, so sexy, yet a touch reserved.

“The front. You’re torturing me, right? First the dog, now this?” He quickly moved his hands to her front, molding to the large globes encased in satiny cups.
Fuck. If I last more than a minute, I’ll be lucky.
He took a breath and let it out, forcing himself to go easy. He wanted this to last all night. And into tomorrow. And maybe the next day.

“So what do you have planned for this weekend?” she rasped, as if reading his mind.

“Nothing but relaxing and helping a friend of mine.”

“Oh.” So cute. She sounded disappointed.

“Yeah. She’s this smokin’ hot chick who writes for a living, and she needs my skills to help her with research. I’m all about research.”

Abby’s slow smile melted that core of detachment he normally held when dealing with a woman. God, he couldn’t understand how just seeing her eyes gleam or her soft lips curl could make his heart hammer so fast.

“You know, Brody.” She leaned into his hands, and he had to swallow a groan of his own. “I feel really bad about Mutt, the way he hurt you.” With quick movements she withdrew her arms into her top, pushed his hands aside, and then shifted around inside the sweater. He watched in awe as her bra dropped to his lap and she put her hands through her sleeves again in less than a minute. She removed her glasses and put them on the table next to the couch, giving him clearer access to the emotions shining in her eyes.

“That’s impressive.” He put his hands over her breasts again, now naked under the sweater. Her tits were full, her nipples hard, and she rocked over him when he kneaded her.

“Yes,” she hissed. “That feels so good.”

“It does,” he responded in a gritty voice.

“I was on the field hockey team in high school. We used to have to change shirts on the bus. You know, home team/away team colors.”

“What’s that?” He wanted to see her, to take her nipples between his lips and suck.

“My ability to remove my bra under my shirt,” she explained. “You’re totally not listening to me, are you?”

“God no.”

She gasped on a laugh.

“Take off that sweater. I need to see you.” He stared at her, seeing the same desire he felt. While she took off her sweater, he did the same with his sweatshirt.

Bare chest to bare chest, but hers was so much more enticing. He didn’t wait and took her nipple into his mouth while he plumped and played with her. Brody loved a woman’s body, but he was partial to breasts. Abby had the nicest set he’d ever seen in his life—and he’d seen more than his fair share.

He continued to tease her, sucking, nipping, and licking while she clutched his head.

“Yes. Oh, more. Brody,
please
.”

He loved that she forgot herself to beg. The feminine moans and pleas for what he could give her, what he
would
give her, only enhanced his pleasure. Because in making her happy, he pleased himself. His orgasm could wait. His own needs mattered little compared to making sure Abby got off.

Determined to thank her in the best way he knew how, he decided to show her a few tricks he hadn’t gotten to the last time they’d played together. And then he had to find a way to figure out just where the hell this thing with her was going. Because it felt anything but casual.

Chapter 9

Abby couldn’t think. For an entire week she’d spent her days and nights surrounded by Brody’s things, Brody’s dog, Brody’s neighbor. Sleeping in his bed had been a torture all its own, because Abby had a terrific imagination. She too easily envisioned what they might have been doing if he’d been back.

But this… The man would not be a onetime wonder. She couldn’t believe the way he touched her. With a gentleness and an intensity so mired in the man she couldn’t tell if he was always like this or just with her. He didn’t rush, didn’t seem hurried to make love to her. Not Brody. He petted and teased, drawing out the pleasure. Just touching her breasts, and she was ready to come.

She squirmed over him again, aware of the hard cock prodding her center. She remembered exactly how big he was and wanted him inside her. Like yesterday.

“Come inside me,” she whispered as he continued to suck her breasts. He squeezed a nipple with more pressure and made her gasp, then soothed the sting by taking attention away from her other breast to suck it better. “Oh, yes.”

Yes, please.
Moaning and groaning. Pathetic that the man reduced her to a clichéd lover, but God in heaven, he had magic hands. And that mouth… She’d had dreams about that mouth that left her waking all wet between her legs. Tingly and frustrated, because the man she desired had been too far away.

She’d done her best not to touch herself, but one night she’d been desperate. She’d almost called him for phone sex. Had wanted to. But Abby Dunn didn’t do things like that. This liaison was as close as she’d ever come to being so naughty, and she still worried about freaking him out if she pushed too hard too fast. Then he might tell the guys, and everyone would know she was a freak in bed. Just like Kevin had not so long ago, and she’d never felt such passion for him. Not like she experienced with Brody.

“Hey, where did you go?” he asked softly and let go of her breasts to cup her face. “You got tense on me, baby. You okay?”

She felt three shades of stupid. “Yeah. Just… I hope this—us like this—is okay.”

He blinked at her. “Sorry?”

She felt worse than stupid. Pathetic. Moronic. Slutty, sitting half naked on top of him in his living room with the lights on, showing all her flaws.
Oh
man.

“Hold on. You want to stop, we’ll stop. But Abby…” He looked so dejected. “I might die of blue balls. Men do, you know.”

She couldn’t help a snort of amusement.

“There we go. That’s what I want to see. Besides your beautiful breasts, I mean.”

“Brody.” Her cheeks felt hot.

“Yeah. That smile. You get me so hard.” He rocked her over him again. “I want to come inside you so bad it’s not funny. Yeah, I know. Condoms, a must. But… This is more than okay. You can’t honestly believe I don’t want you?” He paused. “Or is this too fast? I mean, last week was incredible, but maybe you have second thoughts?”

To her amazement,
he
now appeared uncomfortable. Vulnerable even, which she never would have pegged for Brody “Stud for Hire” Singer.

“It’s okay if you want to stop,” he said in a low voice and grimaced when she shifted over the bar in his pants. “But I—”

Annoyed with herself for almost ending something special, especially because it was more than apparent he wanted to continue but thought she didn’t want him, she ignored her inner doubt and kissed him. With tongue. And lips. And more tongue.

He froze for a moment, and then he kissed her back. Demanding, insisting on taking charge.

She sighed into his mouth, loving his dominant side. Normally easygoing, Brody turned into someone else when he kissed her. And damn, he got her so hot.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered into her ear when he broke the kiss. “In detail. The dirtier the better.”

She couldn’t help grinding over him, wanting him in the worst way.

“Come on, Abby. Tell me.” He paused and nipped her earlobe, which made her jolt. “Or I’ll have to spank you.”

She moaned, and when he cupped her breasts again, she told him. In detail. “I want you to suck my clit into that amazing mouth. Eat me out, Brody. Make me come. Then let me suck you down. Sixty-nine. I want to kiss you and make you all better. You’re so big and thick. And I bet you’ll be nice and sweet when you come down my throat.”

He shuddered under her, and she took advantage of the heavy silence to scrape her nails over his nipples.


Fuck.
” He hurried and moved her to the side. “Strip. Now.” They raced to tear off their clothes. He took a condom out of his jeans pocket but didn’t bother donning it. “If we’re using mouths… I want you to take me raw, baby. Just you and me. No barriers. I’m clean. That’s something I won’t lie about.”

She believed him. One thing Brody wouldn’t do was put her in any kind of jeopardy. She still got goose bumps knowing he’d been celibate for so long because of her. “Me too.”

He smiled, and the warmth in that grin turned her heart inside out. “I know.” His smile turned mean. “Now do what I tell you. Turn around and put that pussy over my lips. Then take my fat cock in your mouth and suck me dry.”

She’d always been a sucker for dirty talk, and Brody could have made a career out of his own 1-900 number. “I’m really wet.”

“Don’t brag. Just get over here,” he barked and lay down on the couch.

Though ugly as sin, the couch was surprisingly comfortable and extra wide, a throwback to the eighties or nineties with a plaid pattern from hell. But she’d never been so grateful for the extra space. Abby joined him as instructed and stared down at his thick shaft, moist at the tip.

She shivered to realize she’d made him this way, that his desire was real. For
her
.

Then she stopped thinking, because he drew her down to his mouth and started to feast.

“Brody,” she moaned and took his shaft in hand. He jerked but continued to lick her, sucking in intervals that told her if she didn’t hurry, she’d come without him.

She licked the tip of him before sliding her mouth over his crown. He moaned and arched up, and intensified his suction over her clit. He didn’t give her warning before he thrust a finger inside her. Then another. Thrusting deep while he worked her taut nub.

Losing her mind, she sucked harder and cupped his balls. Rubbing the soft yet firm sac while she grazed the inside of his strong thighs with her nails.

Brody went crazy. So she did it again. She couldn’t get all of him inside her mouth, but she did her best, sucking at least half of him with long, deep draws.

He pulled his mouth away and warned in a low rasp, “I’m gonna come, Abby. Down your throat, baby. Swallow me down and come with me. All over my mouth,” he moaned and returned to her flesh.

She gave him the same intensity, caught in the maelstrom of sensation and feeling. Her heart beat not just for the physical release, but for the emotional catharsis of desire and need long denied.

Brody Singer writhed for her. She had power, as much as he did as he consumed her. And then he removed his fingers and gripped her ass with both hands, pulling her cheeks wider as he ground his lips and teeth against her clit, sucking impossibly deep.

She drew down and nearly gagged herself on him, bobbing in time with his rhythm. He groaned and released into her mouth at the same time she climaxed, the rush of desire overwhelming.

She continued to swallow him until he gave no more, and she took her mouth away, dimly realizing he’d pushed her up. She should have been embarrassed at the thought of nearly smothering him. And for a half second she was, but then he pulled her around and hugged her to him.

“Jesus Christ, Abby. I go away for a few days and you nearly kill me with that mouth. Go easy or I might die from the orgasms.” He chuckled weakly. “Oh man, I don’t think I can move. You literally blew my mind. Holy shit.”

He swore a few more times, and she felt like a queen.

“You okay?” he asked after a few moments of peaceful silence.

“Mmm.” To her astonishment, he still seemed half hard. “Brody?”

“You taste good.”

“Ah, okay.”

“What do I taste like?”

She pushed up on her elbows and stared down at him, loving that sleepy, satisfied look she’d put there. “Are we really having this conversation?”

“Yeah. I mean, some women don’t like to give blow jobs because they say guys are funky. And I know women are the same way. You’re not funky. At all. You’re so fucking sweet. I could eat you for hours.”

“Good to know,” she ended in a squeak.

“Oh my God. You’re blushing? After you sucked me like a Hoover?”

She groaned and dropped her forehead to his chest.

His rumble of laughter made their joining all the better.
Imagine
having
sex
and
liking
the
afterplay.
Brody didn’t make her feel dirty. He encouraged the sexual talk, the non-missionary position. And wonder of wonders, he seemed to be gearing up for more than one shot.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well what?”

He blew out a breath. “It’s a good thing you’re amazing in bed, because you can’t hold a thought. What do I taste like?”

“You taste good, okay? Geez, I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

“What? None of your exes ever asked? Or are you a virgin? Was I your first? Abby, I’m so thrilled.”

She lifted her head and tugged on one of his chest hairs.

“Ow.”

“No, I never discussed the taste of a man’s sperm with him. For your information, there haven’t been that many guys. But the ones there were, well, I just did it. They didn’t want a blow by blow afterward.”

He looked at her. “So how many blows we talkin’? By my count, that’s like three you just mentioned.” He grinned at her, his expression almost boyish. “You are so red right now.”

She leaned down and bit his nipple. But instead of groaning in pain, he reached for her shoulders and demanded she do it again.

“Really?” She kissed him, wanting to lick the sting away.

“Oh yeah. I like that. My nipples are sensitive. Like my cock.” He wiggled his brows. “So feel free to ‘blow by blow me’ again.”

She chuckled. “You’re fun. I hadn’t expected that.”

He linked his hands behind his head and stared up at her. “What did you think sex with me would be like? Because you know you’ve been thinking about it since we first met.”

“Your ego has no limits, does it?”

“Nope.” He grinned again, and she caught a slight dimple.

“I bet you were a handful when you were a kid.”

His smile faltered for a second before his grin grew broader. “You have no idea.”

She wanted to know why a reference to his childhood would make him pause, how a six-year-old boy with the last name of Singer could suddenly be living with the McCauleys. Had his parents passed away? Why then had the McCauleys not adopted him? They loved him and treated him like one of their own.

But the caution in his gaze warned her now was not the time.

“Well…to answer your question, I thought sex with you would be intense. You’d come, I’d come, then you’d light out of bed so fast my head would spin. But you’re, I don’t know, fun.”

“So are you.”

She shook her head. “I’m neurotic most of the time. We have some incredible chemistry, otherwise you’d probably be running for the door.” She tried to come across as joking, but it must have fallen flat because his grin faded.

“Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“Put yourself down. I’ve heard you before with your friends. You’re smart, sexy, funny, and God, you rocked my world three times now. Why the hell would you ever think you’re not good enough?”

She just stared at him, not sure what to say. “Um, well, I was joking.”

He looked down his nose at her. “Uh-huh.”

“Hey, I gave you a hand job at a party. I’m sure of myself.”

“You were drunk. Look. You have no reason not to talk to me. We both agreed to keep everything that happens between us between us.” He paused. “Flynn tried forcing the truth out of me earlier.”

“Oh? Did he use pliers and threats of violence?”

“He tried tricking me, but that boy needs to get up pretty early to get one over on Brody Singer.”

“And then he refers to himself in the third person. Classic narcissist.”

He laughed.

Despite not wanting to talk about her insecurities, she liked knowing she’d brought him amusement. She hadn’t liked that vulnerability in his gaze before.

“You’re funny, too. Did I tell you that?” he asked. “Gimme a kiss.”

“Only if you stop trying to psychoanalyze me.”

“Fine. Just tell me if your poor self-image is because of that dickhead Kevin.”

She froze. How—?

“Didn’t think I knew about him, huh? Well, you’re not the only one who can eavesdrop on your neighbors.”

The blood drained from her face. “Wh-what do you mean?”

He smiled like the Cheshire cat. “I knew you used to listen to us on card night. The little voyeur next door with the hot bod. No, I never told the guys. Instead, I used Mike’s open window policy to listen in on you, girlie.”


What?

“Yeah. That’s right. I know that Kevin was an asshole who treated you like shit. Vanessa’s words, not mine. And that he was never good enough for you. I also know you like looking at my ass.”

She sputtered. Trust Brody to have only half of it right. “For your information, Vanessa doesn’t know everything.”

“Not according to her.”

She snorted. “And according to her, you’re a doofus who has eyes for me. So is she wrong?”

“Nope.”

She hadn’t expected that. “Huh?”

“Look. I’ll say it straight out. You’re hot. Just my type.”

“I’m not hot.”

“Yes, you are. You have huge tits.”

“Breasts.”

“A tiny waist, long dark hair that hits you nearly to your waist. And that mouth. I have wet dreams about that mouth.”

Talk about a boost to the ego. And he wasn’t done.

He focused on her lips. “I used to beat off to that mouth. You and your smart-alecky responses. I’d imagine you saying something obnoxious, and then I’d make you apologize. On your knees. I’d hold my cock to your lips and you’d lick me, then suck me like you did tonight.”

BOOK: How to Handle a Heartbreaker
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