Just for Fun (38 page)
“Facts can be disproved. It all depends on the interpretation.”
He grinned at her tart response and sparkling eyes. He loved the way she threw herself into things, that joy she could summon on the spur of the moment—and never more than when she was trying to give him a hard time. “Still up for that game of strip pool, sweetheart?”
Head tilted, she drawled, “Darling, you’d be lucky to have your watch left after I wipe the table with you.”
“Big talk. Want to put your little black dress where your mouth is?”
“No.”
“Afraid?” he taunted.
“Absolutely not.”
“Are you sure?”
“The reason I’m not willing to participate is more basic than that.”
“Uh-huh. Sure,” he said, knowing his tone would annoy the hell out of her.
“Strip games of chance are
so yesterday.
”
Nicholas laughed. “Great excuse for copping out because you’re afraid.”
“No, I’m fashionable. That’s a different thing.”
“Our cousin Darcy fell in love during a game of strip poker.”
“I don’t intent to repeat his mistake.”
Nicholas grabbed her arm. “And yet you offered a game to Jackson.”
She shrugged off his arm instead of answering, did a half-turn and marched around the pool table to line up a better shot. “Are we going to play or talk all night?”
Nicholas sent her a wolfish smile. “I thought we
were
playing, sweetheart.”
Raven almost growled as she drew back to slam her stick against the white cue ball, which responded by galloping down the table and crashing into three other balls causing them to whirl off in all directions but the one direction they were supposed to go. Raven remained hunched over the table as if in pain before straightening to send him a warning look.
Ducking his head to hide a grin, Nicholas murmured, “Nice shot.”
Raven curled her lip at him and then practically flounced away from the table, heading straight for the liquor cabinet in the far corner of the room.
Watching her, Nicholas called, “I could use a refill.”
She ignored him, taking a small bottle of chilled water from the fridge and guzzling it straight down before she turned back to look at him.
“Or water would be good, too,” Nicholas said, grinning before bending over the table and calculating his angles to make his shot with his customary panache. The ball disappeared into the pocket. After a quick glance at Raven who was sauntering toward him with her hips rolling in a sensuous movement guaranteed to send blood away from his brain, he shot again, wincing as the next ball missed the pocket by a cat’s whisker.
“Oh, too bad,” Raven commented, slapping a bottle of water into his hand as he straightened.
He tucked his stick under his arm and removed the cap. Taking a big gulp, he challenged, “Next time.”
Raven leaned over until her ripe lips were touching his ear. “We’ll see about that, darling.”
The game was on, with both taking their time, using all their skill and discipline to win.
Much later, they were coming down to the final shots. The game was neck and neck.
“Red in the far right pocket,” Raven announced, surveying the remaining balls on the table as she calculated angles and lined up her shot.
Nicholas studied the shot. “A bit cocky, aren’t you?”
“Confident. A little number-one fact of my own,” Raven said, her grin pure recklessness.
“Five bucks says you don’t make it,” he challenged back.
“That’s all you can afford?” Raven teased. “Wouldn’t you like to up the stakes?”
Nicholas studied her. “What have you got in mind?”
“All or nothing.” Raven threw the words down like a challenge.
“Like the game you were playing tonight?” Nicholas asked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His eyes narrowed. “Jackson.”
“Lorianne,” she snapped back.
He ran his finger over his top lip. “Ah, Lorianne.”
When he said no more, she finally asked, “What’s up with you and that little blonde? I thought you let that stupid flirting idea go before you left the barn.”
“I did.”
“Didn’t look like it.”
“Darling.” Nicholas smiled. “I do believe you’re jealous.”
“Of what? Of you?” Raven pushed her hair back. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Oh yes, that’s usually a role the men in your life play, isn’t it?” He offered a look that managed to be disappointed, accusing and amused all at the same time.
Raven stabbed her finger at him. “You’re a fine one to talk. You haven’t been living like a monk.”
Nicholas grinned. “There might have been a few—”
“Blondes. In the past, you were partial to blondes.”
“Maybe that’s why I find Lorianne so delightful.”
Raven stared at him for a moment. Then she leaned close to him. “Did you want to kiss her, Nicholas? You looked very attentive. Did she put her lips up and tease you until you wanted to break?”
He said nothing, just looked at her with an impassive expression on his face. At least he hoped so. With her alluring mouth so close, his juices were starting to stir.
She leaned even closer, bringing her lips against his as she nipped his bottom lip then withdrew an inch. “Can she make your blood boil like I can?”
“What makes you think you can make my blood boil?” he asked, hardly hearing the words because of the roar in his ears.
“Because of what happens when I do this.” She threw her pool stick to the floor, rose on her tiptoes to slip her arms around his neck and kissed him. What started as a teasing gesture on her part quickly turned into something else as he pulled her against him, sliding his palms down her back to cup her buttocks, pulling her up to press against his growing erection.
Raven freed her mouth long enough to say, “This is only a demonstration not a—”
“Shut up,” Nicholas replied, tilting his head to slant his mouth across hers. His tongue teased her lips, opening them as if he was the only man who had the key.
His lips met hers, sinking into the velvet of them, letting the feel of them soothe him even as they excited his senses. He felt as if he was rounding third and coming home. Here, now with Raven in his arms, with her lips caressing his, with her tongue tangling hotly in his mouth, he lost control. He dropped his guard and just felt, let himself live in the moment. There was no yesterday, no tomorrow, there was only now and—
“Raven,” he groaned as he pulled her tighter, swinging around to lift her so she sat on the polished cherry ledge of the pool table. He stepped forward, nudging her legs apart until he pressed against her. With a gasp, Raven spread her legs wider then rocked forward against him to clasp her legs around his hips. He fit there as if he’d been born to do so. Just as his hands were born to caress her, he thought, as he slid them up her back and into her hair to hold her head still for his deepening kiss.
It wasn’t enough.
Lips, tongue and emotions plunging, he removed the soft cashmere cardigan she wore. His hands returned to caress the warm satin of her skin as he slid them over her shoulders. He drew back and looked at her, taking in her tousled hair wound into wild curls by his restless fingers, her flushed cheeks, her hot swollen mouth and eyes stunned with surprise, dreamy with secrets and clouded with desire. The heart-shaped bodice of the little black dress molded lovingly to her breasts, held there by gravity and the slender straps that caressed her shoulders, straps that his fingers toyed with before sliding underneath.
“Do you own any clothes that aren’t sexy as hell?” he breathed in complete wonder.
She focused on him for a moment, eyes suddenly glinting with humor, voice husky with arousal. “Scooby-Doo flannel PJs.”
“Even that doesn’t deter me.” He smiled back as he slipped her straps off her shoulders and followed them down her arms. His gaze shifted to the neckline of her dress as it dipped low, the black jersey practically begging to continue its fall. His fingertips traced the edge of material, meeting in the center cleavage, that mysterious shadow hinting at hidden delight. He bent his head and traced the neckline with his tongue as his hands came up to her breasts. Raven stirred under his touch, pushing forward to spill over his cupped hands. He rubbed his knuckles over her hard nipples and she moaned. The moan did it. He snapped, leftover edges of control were gone as he pulled her dress to her waist and replaced his knuckles with his mouth.
“I could get drunk on the taste of you,” he murmured.
Just for Fun
Erin Nicholas
There’s having fun… And then there’s falling in love.
The Bradfords, Book 4
It was a chance meeting, a spontaneous, hot moment, a never-to-be-repeated encounter. So when the gorgeous redhead he knows only as Sugar walks into the bar and heads straight for him, Doug “Dooley” Miller knows he’s in trouble. But he’s sure not going to mind.
She needs a date to some swanky something-or-other. He’s a fish-sticks-and-denim guy, but for a woman who’s not afraid to get naughty in an elevator, he can stand a couple days of smoked salmon and Armani.
Morgan James admits she doesn’t really know Doug, but she needs him to keep her mind—and hands—off her ex. A man who, despite the fact he stole her ideas, she’s afraid could charm her into repeating her mistakes. Only Doug can make her forget the weasel exists. Besides, it’s just this one time.
What started as not even a one-night stand has Dooley feeling things that he’s never felt before. And that’s
outside
of the bedroom. Don’t even get him started on what’s happening between the sheets. Why does he have a feeling that, as far as flings go, they’re doing something wrong? Then again, if they’re falling in love, they might just be getting that right.
Warning: Contains a woman who knows what she wants, a man who knows what he
doesn’t
want, and a proposition that shows them both that they’ve never really wanted anything like this before.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Just for Fun
Copyright © 2012 by Erin Nicholas
ISBN: 978-1-61921-175-9
Edited by Lindsey Faber
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: July 2012
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