Unable to Resist (37 page)

“Yeah, babe?” I answer, straining to hear him through the running water beating over my head.

“Mr. Delicious Lawyer Man, huh?” He jokes.

Dammit. I cringe and mentally slap Liv for giving up his nickname. That was supposed to stay a secret. I poke my head out of the curtain and give him my best innocent look.

“Do you call me that, too?” He questions with a devilish grin.

I quickly close the shower curtain and avoid his question. Duane snorts as I squirt conditioner in my hand.

“Oh, come on. I really want to know,” he pleads through the curtain.

I finish lathering my hair, open the curtain and attempt another look at Duane. He’s put his jeans back on, much to my disappointment, but his chest is still bare. Little beads of sweat form on his pecks from my hot shower and I bite my bottom lip, clenching my legs together. I could lick him—among other things.

His eyes darken with desire, fully understanding my hungry stare.

“Stop looking at me like that or I’ll have to get in there and join you,” he warns, being completely serious.

Yes, please.

Wait. No.

Honor his wishes and don’t make it harder on him.

I forego the possible shower sex and answer his question. “I might have called you that a few times.”

Playful, he traces his bottom lip with his finger. “Really? When?”

I shrug my shoulder. “The day after we first met, when you came here to the house and I found out you were a lawyer. I know it’s silly.”

“I like it,” he states, unapologetically.

A triumphant smile breaks across my face. He likes it? He would. I happily sigh and continue lathering my hair.

Finishing my shower quickly, I step out. The fog has overtaken the bathroom, and I can’t see Duane. I can sure as hell feel him, though. He’s somewhere in here, and I think his hypersensitive man eyes can see me, somehow. I feel his caress and he’s not even touching me.

Jesus.

Instead of internalizing and wanting to cover up, I open myself up to him. For him.

The feeling has changed in the bathroom, and I know he’s coming toward me. My skin yearns to be touched by him, and goose bumps break out all over my body, waiting for what I hope is to come.

I feel his sweet breath on my face, and I shiver in anticipation. He blows on my neck and he breathes in quickly, seeing the effect it has on my body. My brain is screaming at me to just touch him. Touch him, dammit, just touch him! But, I give my brain the ol’ finger, I know he’s relishing in my impatience, and I want to play, too.

He finally brings his strong, glorious hands to my hips, and pulls me closer. He’s still shirtless, and my insides melt. The feel of his skin pressed against mine is literally the closest thing to heaven I’ve ever felt.

Ever.

Shit, I thought my cupcakes were good. Cupcakes? Who gives a shit about those things anymore? Give me naked Duane, and I’ll be happy for the rest of my life. Sugar pleasure, meh, I could go without it.

My fingers twitch with want and I wait for his cue. He’s got me in his clutches, and I can’t seem to snap out of it. I’m entranced. I can’t move a single muscle.

The fog is still just as thick. We’ve yet to turn the fan on, and our intense breathing from the sexual strain adds to the room’s haze. It’s a heady combination.

Duane cradles the back of my head and brings his lips to my ear. “What do you want, Red?” He whispers, his voice deep, teasing me further.

I sigh and melt further into his embrace. “You.”

Duane lightly laughs and shakes his head. “You’ve got me, baby.” His hands leave my hips to trace circles on my lower back, provoking me. “What do you
want
?”

I’ve never been good with dirty talk. Hell, I was eighteen the last time I had sex. We were more worried about being quiet so we didn’t wake up my parents than talking dirty.

I lift my head and conjure up the best I can do.

“Make love to me, Duane.”

There, I said it.

Duane breathes in deep, and his scorching hazel eyes find mine through the fog. They’ve changed to a shade I’ve never seen before, forest green. The middle of his irises have gone almost completely gold. I’m awestruck. Captivated. I’m lost in him.

I grab him—and I’m all hands. My right hand delves into his hair, and I bring my mouth to his, while my left hand heads straight for his tight ass. He groans into my mouth as I squeeze and knead the tight muscles that only come from riding horses.

His hands seek my heavy breasts, playing with them delicately before covering them completely with his palms.

I quiver from our first real intimate touch.

He tugs and pulls on my nipples and I cry out. His teeth pull at my bottom lip with force that I’m sure might brand me forever. His bite pushes me to attack his mouth with fervor.

I’m lost in the wonderful abyss that is Duane when my hands travel to the button of his jeans. With a snap, I quickly push them down, along with his boxer briefs. They pool at his feet on the floor, and I move my hands to his long, smooth shaft. It twitches in my grasp.

I begin to pump when Duane boisterously growls in my ear. I immediately stop and look into his eyes, admiring that shade of lust again. I really do love it. He looks turned on and something else—pained, maybe?

“Jesus, Ann. Darlin’, you’re going to kill me,” he admits looking down at himself, still standing at full attention.

I attempt to move my hands back down to him, but he puts his big hands around my wrists and shakes his head.

“No, dirty girl, no,” he says, a hint of sadness and despair coming through.

I pout and slump my shoulders. I’m ready. I look down at him. He’s obviously ready. What the hell?

I cross my arms around myself and retreat inside my brain.

“Don’t,” Duane says in a forceful yet pleading voice, “Don’t do that. Ann. You know how I feel about you.” He grasps my hand to place it on his long and still very hard cock. “You can see what you do to me, but I’m not going to fuck you on the bathroom sink. At least,” his eyes sparkle, “not yet.”

My breathing spikes again and lust fills my senses full force. I’m about to succumb to my wave of passion when Duane roughly slaps wet my ass with his hand. I shake my head to erase my naughty-filled thoughts, and bite my lip. Those thoughts aren’t going anywhere, but I can put them in a drawer and attempt to forget about them.

Moving a wet piece of hair out of my face, I give him my best smile. “Okay, you win. No fucking on the bathroom sink.”

Duane quickly brings his lips to mine. “Good girl,” he murmers.

Grabbing a towel from the rack behind me, he slowly, and with exact precision, dries me off. I’ve never been so thoroughly dried in my life.

I turn to the mirror and wipe the condensation off with my hand. Duane sneaks up and loops his arms around my body, which is wrapped snuggly with the towel he enfolded around me.

“You know what the best part about this morning is?” He asks, chin on my shoulder.

I lift an eyebrow at him in question, but say nothing.

He snickers into my shoulder, and kisses, ever so sweetly.

“That Liv is downstairs probably throwing a fit, and you have to deal with it.” He gives my bum one last slap and hauls ass out of the bathroom, retreating before I can respond to his jab.

My bedroom fills with the sounds of his howling laughter.

Damn him. Prick-face.

I huff in annoyance, but know he’s right. I’m never going to live this down. I swiftly turn to my phone and notice that we’ve been in here messing around for forty-five minutes.

She’s going to kill me.

“See you tonight, baby,” Duane calls from my room.

He’s cleared the door when I poke my head out. “Hey, you!” I call to him.

He grabs the doorframe and peeks his head back in. “Yeah, sweet girl?”

I walk out of the bathroom, hands on my hips. “You better not be leaving without a kiss.”

He plays with his bottom lip again, and walks toward me with purpose. When he reaches me, he pulls the towel from my body and gives me a once over.

My mouth twists, and I lift my eyebrows. “Like what you see, Cowboy?” I tease him.

He pulls my body to his, and lifts me under my ass to coax my legs around his middle.

“Fuck yes, I love what I see,” he says, a little breathless.

I give him a little squeeze with my lower half, which earns me a low growl. “Well then, kiss me,” I say again.

He obliges while Liv shouts my name from downstairs.

We ignore her.

The bounce in my step is irrevocably noticeable all day long. I can’t count how many times Liv rolled her eyes at my giddiness.

“Sweet mercy, woman,” Liv exasperates as I sashay by her, for the hundredth time. “Please give me whatever you’re taking. I want some.”

I snicker over my shoulder and mouth, “Duane.”

Liv fans herself and mutters, “I need to get me one of those. Damn delicious lawyer man.” She stops in her tracks. “Wait, does he have a brother?” She shouts from across the shop.

I’m standing at the cash register and she’s tending to a couple regulars seated near the glass storefront. Her outburst makes them laugh. I put my hands on the counter with a slap; they really shouldn’t encourage her. I give them stern looks and glare at Liv. She’s making her way to my side behind the counter.

As she approaches, in a hushed tone, I answer, “Yes, he has a brother, but he’s younger.”

Liv, less subtle, shrugs her shoulder and jokes, “How young? Like I’d have to tuck him in bed at night, young?”

My customers hoot laughter, and I sputter, trying to find an answer.

“No, dillhole, he’s like twenty one. No tucking required,” I answer, wondering why I’m giving her any type of encouragement to begin with.

She taps her blood-red fingernails on the glass countertop in thought. “He’s only a few years younger than me. I can handle a little fresh meat. I want to meet him,” she decides.

The customers exit with a wave, leaving us alone in the shop. “You want to meet him, or
meat
him?” I joke.

Taking no time, she answers, “Yes to both. It’s been ages since I’ve been
meated
.” A sly smile stretches across her face. “Only if he looks like Duane, though. Hot damn, he is tasty.”

I hip bump her and we giggle with each other like a couple of teenagers as we move to clear the now-empty tables.

When we control our laughter and wipe our eyes of laugh-happy tears, I say. “I’ve yet to meet Mr. Rynard Jr., but I imagine he’s a looker. He’s Duane’s brother after all.”

Liv breathes out in bliss. “Yeah. So, double date tonight? Call the guys, have them come over and we’ll all hang together.”

I look down at my watch. It’s almost five.

“Liv, we are supposed to have our first official date tonight. Can we take a rain check so we—”

Liv’s shakes her head before I can finish my thought.

Stubborn ass.

“No. Come on, let’s have some fun. You can have your flowery, candles-and-wine date another night. Liv needs something fun to do.”

“You mean someone to do,” I deadpan, “and quit talking in the third person, you weirdo. It’s creepy.”

I should have kept my big mouth shut, I don’t know how I’ll get out of this.

Always tell her that the brother is a teenager. She’ll run screaming for shelter.

She puts a hand on her hip and gives me a firm look. “Liv loves talking in the third person when she knows it pisses you off, you noob. So shut up and let me do it.”

The woman is incorrigible. I scoff at her theatrics and concede. “Fine, you suck, but I’ll do this for you, since you are obviously hard up.”

Liv walks around the counter to clean a table and says, “You have no idea,” she flips me off, her signature style, “and thanks for bringing it up.”

I give her a fake-guilty grin. “Anytime, best friend. Anytime.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just because you are sort of getting some doesn’t mean you have to rub it in.” She pouts with a playful smile.