Slow Burn (25 page)

I need to get some fucking peace of mind and clarity for the first time since she pressed her lips against mine weeks ago.

“She’s had a rough go of it the past year.” Colton’s voice breaks our silence and probably in the nick of time because I’m about two minutes away from making a scene. My own goddamn emotions are a clusterfuck of chaos—I’m pissed at her for pushing me away, but I also want to wrap my arms around her to take that look of confusion out of her eyes and ease the anger that’s just beneath the surface that’s so tangible, it tinges the taste of her kiss.

“That she has,” I murmur softly, not wanting to elaborate since my thoughts are already owned by it all.

“Ry’s worried about her.”

And fuck, why did Colton have to say that? Because if her best friend is worried, then I’m sure as hell going to be concerned. I keep my hat over my eyes, my head leaned back, and my own voice impassive. “Understandably.”

Silence weighs heavy between us as he figures what to say next because I’m sure my lack of a response to his loaded question is unexpected. “You really fucking like her, don’t you?”

I lift the brim of my hat up and angle my head over to the side to look at him, sure the answer is written all over my face. “Just trying to figure out what to do about it since it seems she only wants to be brown-bagging it.”

He smirks at me. “Keep at it, dude. If Rylee could break me down and cause this,” he says, holding up his hand where his wedding band rests, “then shit, anything is possible.”

I let the slight smile tug up the corner of my mouth, knowing he’s just trying to be a good friend by getting me talking, showing me what could be … but I’m done talking.

Man up, Daniels. I need to start acting.

Nut the fuck up or shut the fuck up.

I’m feeling good, buzz still humming and mind made up as I walk toward the house. I wave my hand toward the pool and the guys I just up and left one volley short of match point, telling them to shut the hell up because I’ll be right back.

We’ve all had more than enough to drink by now, and it’s not like I wasn’t obvious when I saw Had stroll past the edge of the pool and walk inside. That damn bathing suit of hers taunted me like a green flag on race day but with a whole lot less fabric.

And a hell of a lot better prize.

I throw the towel I scrubbed through my hair onto the chair as I catch Colton’s eye across the deck. He has one hand on Baxter’s head and his other arm around Rylee’s shoulders, but the look he gives me—the
go take what’s yours
one—is followed by a lift of his chin. A silent show of moral support. I see Rylee catch his look and follow it over to me before a crooked smirk follows a shake of her head.

I walk into the house and see Haddie immediately, that perfect backside of hers on display in the skimpy black bikini as she bends over and looks in the refrigerator. I hear the rattle of jars as she moves items around, but I can’t focus on anything else besides the sight of her ass and knowing just what is nestled in between those thighs.

I want her on so many other levels—in fact, I feel like I’m going a little crazy, trying to prove that point—but
damn it to hell if I don’t want her on this level too. Tanned, toned, and tempting.

And just this simple sight has me reaffirming my decision from earlier.
At all costs
. That’s my new motto. I am going to make it so that Haddie Montgomery can’t resist me. Use the sex she seems to use as a shield around her to my advantage. Reel her in and then force her to understand that whatever the hell she’s running from she doesn’t have to worry about with me.

The question is, how exactly am I going to do that?

I mean the sex part is a no-brainer, but I need to make sure she doesn’t rabbit the minute it’s over. And tying her to the bed most definitely sounds like one hell of a dick-hardening option, but in the end, it earns me no trust. So my object is to make her want, make her ask for it, confuse the hell out of her. Make her want like I want, but then refuse her just like she does me.

Because I know she desires more—I can see it in those eyes of hers. I just have to figure out what it is that’s going to break down those goddamn walls but still make her feel like she’s protected from whatever it is that’s hurt her.

So I stare at the curve of her hips and decide to make my move. I step forward and murmur, “Excuse me,” when I push the door open a little wider with one hand while my other hand rests conspicuously atop the swell of her ass. I feel her body jolt, hear the startled gasp fall from her mouth, and can’t deny that surge of electric current that charges through me when we touch. It’s like a fucking live-wire that causes a momentary short circuit in my thoughts as it weaves around my balls and tugs them with the goddamn strings that are already laced through my heart.

The woman makes me feel in ways I never expected. It should be me who wants to bolt, but for some reason it makes me want her even more. Everything about her draws me in, hooks me, mesmerizes me.

Goddamn it to hell. She’s my voodoo.

And it’s not like that fact scares me. Fuckin’ A, it should when I’m content meandering through the dating field for a while longer, but shit, there’s just something about Haddie that’s indescribable.

The sip of Macallan that ruins you for all others.

So I figuratively grab my balls with both hands and jump in feetfirst, hoping she’ll be the one to help me float because I sure as hell know she’s worthy enough to drown for.

She backs out of the refrigerator, and I make sure to crowd her space. Her body rubs against mine as she stands up. And the feeling of those hard nipples against my bare chest urges every single part of me to hold her against me and claim that mouth of hers. Kiss her senseless so her lips are swollen and pink when I’m done with them.

Startled, she looks up at me with my name falling off her lips in a rush of air from her mouth. We stand like this for a split second, bodies demanding and minds warring before she hurriedly pushes away from me. She seems flustered, and I can see her trying to remember what exactly she was doing before I interrupted her. I know when she remembers because she turns back to the refrigerator and grabs the platter of Jell-O shots I’d distracted her from.

She pulls the tray out, muttering, “Excuse me.” She keeps her eyes averted from mine, and it takes me a minute to steady myself, the mixture of beer and Haddie enough to make a man drunk off his ass.

I shut the door, watching her move the tray to the counter on the other side of the kitchen and start fiddling with the shots, her back toward me. I close the distance, but the words on my lips falter.

“Jell-O shots, huh?” I ask, trying to act as casual as possible, not caring whatsoever because the Macallan in front of me looks a thousand times more tempting than the childish flavors in her colored cups. “What kind?”

“Mm-hmm. Tequila sunrise, I think.”

I know she knows I’m behind her. Can see her hands stop fiddling aimlessly. Her body stills, and her breath hitches. I step into her—itching to touch her in so many ways, and when I see the little cups of orange Jell-O she’s focusing on, I know exactly how to go about it.

Plan of attack figured out.

My front is against her back, trapping her between me and the counter, my hands placed on either side of her hips. The heat of her body, the softness of her curves, and the scent of sun on her skin are enough to make a sane man crazy. I draw it all in—everything about her—as I feel her breath release in a shuddered exhale. It’s the same goddamn sound she makes when I enter her, and hell if that doesn’t make my balls tighten and my dick ache to hear it again.

Preferably on frequent repeat.

I lean my face forward so that my chin scrapes over her bare shoulder and across to the back of her neck. I press an openmouthed kiss there, just below her exposed hairline from her hair being pulled up. I hear the soft sigh begin before she catches it when she feels the warmth of my lips and lick of my tongue. A small thrill shoots through me, knowing I can affect her even after she ran.

Never underestimate the power of a kiss on the neck.

Our bodies are against each other’s, my lips pressed to her nape, and I just remain still so that the heat of my breath can hit her neck. So that she can think and wonder what my next move is going to be.

We stand here in that suspended state of anticipation before I move my mouth ever so slowly to her ear. And I’m not sure if it’s from my breath or just our general nearness, but my resolve to tease and taunt rather than taste and take is strengthened when I see the goose bumps dance across her skin in reaction to me.

“What is it they say you’re supposed to do with tequila?” I breathe into her ear as one of my hands reaches forward
to take a little cup, my elbow purposely brushing against her bare torso, and my body pressing harder into hers.

She doesn’t answer, but her body vibrates from our connection. “Something like
Lick it
…” I let my voice trail off as I run my tongue from the edge of her shoulder up to the curve of her neck. I hear an incoherent moan from her that turns me on in all kinds of ways and feel her body sag some against mine as I taste the salt on her skin.

I hold the shot up in front of us, my languorous trail of kisses stopping right below her earlobe.
“Slam it.”
I raise the shot up, angling the heel of my hand softly against her breast before bringing it to my lips, her sudden intake of air pushing it farther into me. I toss the Jell-O back, its chill sliding down my throat. I set the empty cup back onto the counter, my dick hardening as it rubs against her lower back. Her inability to speak from her stubborn desire urges me on.

My mouth is back at her ear, an ache so goddamn strong to have her, I’m testing my own fucking restraint here. “I believe the last one is
Suck it
.” I feel her body stiffen at the words as she anticipates exactly what my next move will be. I pause on purpose, leaving her in that suspended state of desire, wanting her to wonder just that.

After a moment I lower my lips to take the lobe of her ear in my mouth and suck on it before scraping my teeth against it as I release it. This time she doesn’t try to disguise her sound of desire as it falls from her mouth. I grip my hands on the edge of the counter to prevent myself from doing any more because I really just want to slide my hands in the front of her black bikini bottoms and make her come undone.

And not a second after the thought enters my head, my hands are on the move, lust driving their actions. One hand palms her bare midriff, the diamond stud I noticed adorning her belly button just adding fuel to my raging fire of lust, as if I needed any help. At the same time, my other hand slips
beneath the soft band of her bottoms and stops just above the top of her clit.

“Becks …” My name is on her lips again, the only one I want to be there. She takes her hands from the counter and wraps them around my forearms. At first I think she’s going to try to stop me, but when she just grips them tightly, I know she’s urging me on. Asking me to take her, drive her to find ecstasy, and
fuck me
, there is nothing more attractive than a woman who knows what the hell she wants.

I don’t speak, and I’d like to think I made the conscious decision that words are not needed right now, but fuck, my mind is so focused on the slick lips I’ll find beneath my fingertips that I can’t even think clearly. Haddie’s fingernails dig into the skin on my arm as I kick her feet farther apart with my own to gain better access to her heat. I lower my hand, my fingers parting her. I slide them back up to find her clit at the top of her seam and rub my fingers over it ever so slowly and then back.

Her legs weaken beneath her, and I press my hand against her stomach harder so that she can use my body for support. I work the pads of my fingers over her gently at first and then with more fervor as her breath starts to catch and she grinds her pelvis forward and into my hand, her voice silent but her body begging for exactly what she wants. I ease up and lower my fingers to recoat them with her arousal to find her dripping wet.

And as much as my own body is reacting to the knowledge that sweet Haddie is on the verge of coming, that she wants me to bring her there, I know I have her right where I want her. Needing, wanting, desperate for more.

I find her clit again, add in the friction that’s causing her to writhe and buck against me. I hear her breath hitching, feel her muscles start to tense up, and as much as it pains me, as much as causing a woman to reach orgasm is a powerful high for me that I love—it makes me hard as a fucking rock—I stop my fingers.

I hold them still, pressing on either side of her clit but do not move them. I hear her gasp of shock at the pause in sensation, the sudden loss of her orgasm, and the labor of her breathing as she wars desire against dignity to ask for what I’m going to deny her.

“It’s you that I want, Haddie,” I say against her ear. “Only you.”

I let the thought settle within her, my fingers astride her pleasure, my body taut with the pain of restraint as we stand there motionless, chests heaving. “I’m not letting you walk away from me again. I don’t care what your fears are, what your doubts are, who else you’re seeing….” I press a soft kiss on that addictive curve of her neck again, and it earns me a shuddered breath that is sexy and then some. “This orgasm is mine. You will not give it to anyone else, even your own hand. I want you strung so goddamn tight, you beg me to fuck you, beg me to own you.”

She gasps out again, but this time it’s because I withdraw my hands from her. She sags against the counter in respite, effectively breaking every connection our bodies have with each other.

I lean forward, my mouth a whisper from her ear, my breath the only part of me touching her. “And I will own you, but on my terms next time.”

When I take a step back, a soft “Fuck you” falls from her mouth in an unsteady tone as I notice her knuckles turning white from gripping the counter on both sides of her.

I’m curious if she’s holding on to keep herself from grabbing me and forcing me to finish her off or because she wants to slap me. Either one would be hot as hell because at least I’d know I’d gotten a reaction. And that she’s pissed enough to want more.