Some Girls Do (Outback Heat Book 1) (5 page)

He sighed. “Move over.”

Thankfully she didn’t question him or his motives, just wriggled over enough to admit him. Coop pulled back the covers and lay down beside her, putting out his arm in silent invitation. He braced himself as she took it, rolling on her side, moving closer, her head making a pillow out of his shoulder, her breasts and belly and thighs smooshing up against his side, her toes brushing his ankle, her upper hand sliding onto his ribs.

He didn’t dare breathe as she settled against him, but his heart thudded like a gong in his chest and his body burned in carnal recognition. When she seemed comfortable he curled his arm up, his hand coming to rest on her bare shoulder. He swallowed as his palm prickled with heat and awareness.

“I—”

“Shh,” he interrupted. He didn’t want to lay here in the night and talk as if they shared a bed on a regular basis. He just wanted to get through this night with his sanity intact. “Go to sleep,” he murmured.

“Th-thank you,” she whispered on a hiccupy sob.

Coop stared at the ceiling as her body grew heavy and relaxed against his.

What the fuck am I doing?

Snuggled up in bed with a woman who should come with a flashing neon warning sign.

Danger, danger, danger.

A woman whose body he knew intimately. Who he’d spent probably one of the most amazing nights of his life with. Who came to him in dreams so erotic, so vivid, he woke from them calling her name.

Who was his best friend’s sister.

Who he could
never ever
have.

Coop sighed, resigning himself to a night of staring at the ceiling.
After all, he wasn’t any stranger to those
. But holding her close, all warm and pliant, the patter of rain on the high window above them and her soapy aroma winding around his senses, he knew he needed more than the ceiling to distract him from the slow burn of heat licking through his veins.

So he turned his mind to everything that had pissed him off about her since their first acquaintance—including her disappearing act. Cataloguing her litany of sins and pitting them against the slow simmer of lust invading every cell in his body helped. Even if he did understand why she’d been such a pain in the ass.

He understood she was pissed at the world. Pissed that her mother had been diagnosed with cancer. Pissed that her mother had fought for two long,
awful
years then lost the battle anyway. Pissed that her brothers had insisted she leave home so soon after. That she’d been appointed a
babysitter
. That she’d had to ask him for help.

He got it.

But it was time she grew up. Crap happened to people—he knew that better than anyone. And you were allowed to be sad about it and you most definitely were allowed to be pissed about it. But at some point, you had to get your shit together.

It was time for Lacey to get her shit together. And if he had to threaten her with getting her brothers involved he would.

It was that or putting her over his knee and spanking her. And he wasn’t entirely sure if that would be a hardship.

For either of them.

‡

L
acey cracked open
her bleary eyes to tiny slits, taking in an expanse of T-shirt covered chest, her hand resting on ribs exactly where she’d left it, and weak light filtering into the room. Her eyeballs felt swollen twice their size and like they’d been rolled in dirt. Her lashes were practically glued together and she shut them again, cringing at her naivety, as the events of last night returned.

Jeremy. Jeremy’s
wife
. Yelling and tears and her cut hand. The rain. The cold.

And Cooper.

Calm. Patient. And always there for her.

Coming here last night had been the right thing to do. Even if she hadn’t given any conscious thought to it. Coop seemed to be her true north when she was in trouble, and her internal compass had taken over.

She just wished she hadn’t screwed up so badly—again. These last few years had seen her lurching from one disastrous relationship to another. Looking for God knew what.

Something.
Anything.

Anything to soothe the hard ball of grief that sat like a boulder in her gut.

Distraction. Diversion. Absorption.

But she chose too quickly, too unwisely; some would say too recklessly. Guys who wanted to party because they could. Because they were young and free. Like her.

And she’d had some good times. But still the sadness persisted.

And then Jeremy had come along and she’d felt …
settled
. He was so different from the others. Tall and slender with wire-rimmed glasses, good looking in a scholarly kind of way. He’d given her something different. The partying stopped. She concentrated on her studies. She cooked for him. He cooked for her. They talked about world events and travel and politics. She’d
relished
being part of a couple. Being with someone who thought she was special.

Maybe Coop was right. Maybe she did have a daddy complex. Maybe she
had been
looking for someone to take care of her, because that’s what all the men in her life had done until they’d pushed her out of the nest to fend for herself.

Lacey shut her eyes.
Gawd.
She sounded
pathetic
and she hated herself. She felt stupid and it had to stop. If she wanted to be treated seriously by her brothers, to be
listened
to, then she had to start showing them she could get her shit together.

She had to take control of her life, direct it, instead of letting it sweep her along.

And it had to start now. Today.

With Coop.

The white cotton of his shirt was soft against her cheek, the muscle pillowing her head was warm and solid, and the slow, steady thump of his heart beneath her ear was reassuring. He smelled like laundry detergent and whatever deodorant he used. Something unremarkable, knowing Coop. He didn’t believe in fancy cologne or high-price aftershave.

No metrosexual trappings for him.

She glanced at the hard line of his jaw, covered with light stubble, then on to the ridge of his cheekbone and higher still to the pale white scar that started behind his ear and arced all the way to his temple, courtesy of a ricocheting bullet. It stood out easily through the blond spikes of his buzz cut.

Lacey felt sick just thinking about that scar and how close Coop had come to death. Surprisingly not from the head wound but from the second bullet that had hit him in the chest; it had taken a team of surgeons thirteen hours to fix that wound.

It made her want to cling to him even more. Her fingers itched to trace it. Her mouth tingled to kiss it better. Even though it had been healed for years now and she was
turning over a new leaf.

Now. Today. This moment.

It took every inch of Lacey’s willpower to roll away from him, but she did. Turning on her side, turning her back on temptation, putting the devil behind her.

The last thing she expected was him to follow her over. But he did. His warm hand sliding over her belly as he pulled her in close to him, his lips at her neck, his thighs spooning hers.

His giant erection pressing into the cheeks of her ass.

Lacey’s breath caught in her throat and her heart thumped in her chest as she shut her eyes tight.
Un-freaking-believable
. She had to choose
this
moment to turn over a new leaf? With the devil
really
behind her?

Was he asleep?

She cracked open an eyelid. His breathing was deep and even, puffing warm air onto her neck, and his body felt slack against hers, his arm weighing a tonne.

Great … What now? Lie here trying to resist temptation, trying not to shift or move no matter how badly she wanted to rub herself against him. Or get the hell out of bed?

She looked down at the dead weight of his arm. Maybe she could lift it up without waking him? Slip out of bed.

Her pulse quickening, Lacey slid her hand onto his forearm, lifting it slightly, but he stirred and she froze. He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like, “Lacey,” and kissed her neck.

Her heart leapt at the warm press of his mouth and she turned her head to check he was
actually
asleep. Whiskers tickled her lips and nose as the nearby pound of his pulse pushed against his throat. The smell of his soap swamped her senses.

He stirred again, his eyes fluttering open, staring at her. “Lacey?” His voice was groggy, disorientated and as deep and rough as a vat of hard liquor.

She held her breath, her stomach doing somersaults as his gaze roamed over her face.

“
Lacey.”

It was a groan this time, full and throaty, as his hand slid up her neck and tunnelled into her hair, his mouth seeking hers, latching on, angling his head and sucking her right in, plundering her mouth with a greed he wasn’t bothering to check.

Lacey moaned, turning in his arms as his kiss sizzled through every one of her erogenous zones on a surge of hot lust, her pledge to start over temporarily lost in the heady carnal pull. Nothing else mattered beyond his mouth and the frantic beat of her heart.

But soon, as the desire swirled out of control, it wasn’t enough and she slid her hand down. All the way down to the low-riding waistband of his trackpants and beyond, sliding inside to grasp all that steely hardness.

*     *     *

Coop gasped as
his cock bucked in Lacey’s hand. A surge of molten heat set fire to muscles deep inside his belly, thighs and buttocks at the same time an icy-cold streak rippled through his chest and clamped tight around his heart.

Christ
. What the fuck were they doing?

His hand stilled in her hair as he tore his mouth away. Her eyes fluttered open, looking at him in confusion as they both breathed hard.

“Coop?”

He shook his head as he dragged her hand out of his pants. Nothing south of his navel was happy with the outcome.

Not too many parts north of it were either.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice sounding thick and strange. “Not doing this, Lacey.”

He didn’t know what the hell had happened but none of it changed the facts. She was still too young. Still
too
Ethan’s little sister. He’d messed up once with her already. He wasn’t doing it again no matter how fucking incredible her hand felt on his cock.

“Yes … sorry, you’re right, of course.” She stared at him for a beat or two more before falling back onto the mattress.

“Don’t” he said, “I was the one who sleep groped you. It was my fault.”

“Yes but … I promised myself I wouldn’t screw up like this again. That I’d be … strong.”

Coop sighed at the sadness and defeat in her voice. “What do you
want
, Lacey?”

She didn’t answer for a long time. “I want to go
home
.”

He rolled his head to face her, his gaze eating up her perfect profile. A tear rolled out and trekked down the side of her face and he couldn’t bear it.

“Okay. I’ll take you.”

*     *     *

It was midday
when they passed the giant sign in the shape of a woolly jumbuck, welcoming them to
sheep country
, and bubbles of excitement fizzed in Lacey’s veins. Five more minutes.
Almost home.