Wild with You (14 page)

She moved in front of him. “You know, now that we're here, I have to admit, I like the idea of giving you a lap dance.”

“No.” One arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her back against his chest. In the dimly lit, empty corner of the club, she arched, pressing into him. She felt his hand brushing her hair to one side. His lips touched her neck.

“Might be wild,” she said before he gave her a list of reasons why he shouldn't accept a dance from her. “And a little naughty.”

She felt him suck in a deep breath, his free hand resting on her shoulder. “Dammit, I missed you. I'm glad you're back.”

“Brody, what the fuck?” Josh stormed through the double doors leading to the kitchen, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. “I left a note. You don't need to follow me around like I'm a freaking child. I know my way home.”

Brody stepped to the side, crossing his arms on his chest. “Your note didn't mention Megan. You said you were going to a strip club at nine in the morning on a Friday. I figured maybe you'd lost your common sense too.”

“I didn't want you to judge Megan,” Josh shot back. “She's trying to pay her school loans. College and nursing school aren't free, and waiting tables here pays well. More than you're paying her.”

“I'm not judging,” Brody said. “I was worried.”

“Well, you can stop. I'm fine,” Josh said, his voice rising with every word.

Kat saw a bouncer move in their direction and stepped forward, placing herself between the fuming, stubborn brothers. “Josh, we should sit down and talk.”

“You said you'd be around for another week or so, Doc. We have time.” He stepped back. “I'm going to finish my food. I'll see you at home later.”

“Josh,” Brody snapped.

Kat turned to him, placing her hands on his biceps. “How about we stay for breakfast? I'm starving.”

“I'm not sitting down here. Not with you.”

“I have a feeling you're not leaving without Josh, and seeing as how Lena dropped me off, you're my ride.”

She took his arm and pulled him over to a table near the kitchen, away from the stage.

“I didn't get a chance to finish my lunch yesterday. Dinner consisted of chips and animal crackers on the plane. And my flight was late. In another ten minutes I'll be hungry enough to eat my potatoes off a dancer's back like that guy up there.” She nodded to the table by the stage.

“What the heck?” He stole a peek before sinking into one of the wooden chairs. “Aren't there rules about touching the dancers?”

“He's not using his hands. Who knows, maybe he asked permission.” Kat claimed the seat beside Brody and selected two menus from the stack resting between the napkin holder and the salt. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the bouncer approach the table with the woman lying on top. Maybe there were rules about running your tongue over a stripper's back.

But later, she thought, after they returned from their “rescue” mission and disappeared into Brody's bedroom, there would be nothing stopping him from running his mouth over her.

“See if you can get the waitress's attention,” Kat said, brushing his leg under the table. “Let's order. And then you can describe your dream lap dance.”

 

Chapter 16

B
RODY
HA
D
SPENT
the past twenty-­four hours spinning a web of lies. His bed hadn't felt empty without her. He didn't miss her laughter, her smile, or that vulnerable look in her eyes when she revealed a part of her past. And he sure as hell wasn't falling for the sexy, smart doctor.

But then Kat had waltzed in, defused the situation with Josh one moment and teased him with the promise of a lap dance the next. She made him face the fact that he'd been lying to himself since she left. He wanted Kat in his life and in his bed. Falling for her wasn't a question. He was already there at the bottom, hoping like hell she'd follow him.

Maybe it was the way she didn't expect him to solve her problems, or how she rejected his pity, demanding that he feel anything but sorry for her. Either way, he had to make this work. He had to find a way to give her everything she deserved and still honor his commitments here.

One thing she didn't need? A man who landed her in a strip club on a weekday morning. A man who was going out of his mind with desire while watching her eat eggs and potatoes.

Kat wrapped her lips around a forkful of scrambled eggs and closed her eyes. “I think I'm beginning to see the difference between free range eggs and the regular kind. These are amazing. And these home fries.”

She punctuated her sentence with a low moan.

Brody shifted in his chair. Hell, even watching her eat turned him on. “Are you sure that's not the hunger talking?”

“No. It's the potatoes.” She loaded her fork. “You must come back here. For the food. Though the dancers are talented too.”

“I wouldn't know,” he said, pushing his full plate toward her. “I can't take my eyes off you.”

“I already promised you a private dance.” She licked a smear of ketchup off her lower lip. “Now start talking. I want details. Does the no touching rule turn you on?”

“No.” With Kat sitting there, torturing him with every movement of her lips, every word, he didn't want to entertain lies. “If anyone is going to be tied up, unable to touch, it's you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You won't hand over control even for a lap dance?”

“Not a chance.” He wanted to tie her up and make her
his
. He wanted to claim her. And he didn't want to let go after a few orgasms. He didn't want to come home needing her—­her smile, her words, her comfort—­and find out she'd slipped away again. And he sure as hell didn't want the woman he cared deeply for returning to a lonely life.

“What's in New York?” he asked. “Why did you need to go back?”

Her teasing smile faded. “Prior commitment.”

“Must have been pretty important if you took back-­to-­back red-­eyes and ate animal crackers for dinner.”

She set her fork down and whipped her mouth with her napkin. “I joined a mentor program last year and I was matched with a young girl living in foster care. Twice a month I sit down with her for an hour at her elementary school. Eventually I was hoping to do some weekend day trips.”

He'd paged through the usual explanations while she was away—­a patient who needed her, a doctor's appointment, or the one that drove him to the brink of jealousy, a date. But he'd never pictured her sitting down to lunch with a child who was traveling down the same road she'd taken as a kid.

“Yesterday,” she continued, “Brianna opened up.”

“You're going to get your weekend adventures?”

Kat smiled, not the teasing grin she used to so effortlessly seduce him or the professional expression she offered others, but a genuine look of joy mingled with excitement.

“Yes. And fingers crossed a lot more. God, I don't want to say too much or I'm afraid I'll jinx it. But Brianna asked if I'd consider adopting her. And I said yes.”

“That's great, Kat.” But the weight of her words sank in, leaving him face-­to-­face with a complicated mess. How would they make this work if she had a family on the other side of the country and his needed him here?

“Brianna deserves to have something good happen for once,” Kat said.

“So do you.” And he wanted that something good in her life to be him. But Brody had a sinking feeling he was looking at the one person who didn't need him—­not nearly as much as he needed her.

“I've been very fortunate, Brody. After all, I went to Harvard,” she said, her tone changing to sarcasm.

“That's not what I meant and you know it. You deserve happiness and family. Just like Brianna.”

She stabbed the last potatoes on her plate. “I think our conversation took a wrong turn toward serious. And I don't think this is the place.”

“You're right.” The Lost Kitten strip club wasn't the place to tell her that he wanted to be a part of her future happiness. “But—­”

His cell phone cut him off, vibrating against his thigh. Retrieving it, he glanced at the caller ID. Moore Timber. Great. With Eric away on his honeymoon, he couldn't ignore the call.

He stood and headed for the door. “I need to take this. Outside.”

A
S
B
RODY
DIS
APPEARED
into the daylight beyond The Lost Kitten's timeless interior, Kat helped herself to his potatoes.

“Your boyfriend hasn't taken his eyes off you since you walked in.” Daphne, the owner with the long black hair, claimed Brody's empty seat.

“He's not my boyfriend,” Kat said, the words quickly snapping the imaginary lines binding her to Brody. But saying those words for the second time since she'd landed back in Oregon this morning—­they left her uneasy, as if she was lying.

Daphne's eyebrows shot up. “He stared at your mouth as if he owned it. There were a few times that I swore he was going to push the dishes to the floor and take you here.”

“Those looks were your fault,” Kat said, reaching for humor. “The food was so good, I thought I'd have an orgasm just from eating the potatoes.”

Daphne leaned her head back and laughed. “Can I bring you back to the kitchen before you leave? I need you to repeat those words to my chef. He's going to drop to one knee when he hears that and beg to marry you.”

“Sure. But fair warning, if he proposes, I might run for the door.”

Brody returned to the table, his intense brown eyes focusing briefly on the club owner before turning to her. He stopped beside her chair, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Everything OK?”

“Great.” Kat smiled up at him. “We were just talking potatoes.”

Pressing her palms flat against the table, Daphne stood. “I'd still like to steal her away to the kitchen to meet my chef before you leave.”

“I'll send her back in a minute.” Brody looked down at her. “I need to head out. One of the trucks went off the road near a harvest site. Are you OK to catch a ride back with Josh?”

She placed her hand on his. “I'll make sure your brother gets home.”

“Thanks.” He released her and withdrew his wallet.

“Breakfast is on me.” She stood and guided his hand holding his wallet back to his pocket. Once he'd returned the billfold, she gave his butt a squeeze. “I have an idea about how you can repay me later.” She rose up on her tiptoes and touched her lips to his cheek. “Let me dance for you.”

“Deal. But I get to touch.”

Brody turned and headed for the door, his phone pressed to his ear. She'd never met a man so willing to give—­his time, his energy, his support, his everything. And tonight she wanted to give back. The labels might remain out of reach, but there was one place where she could deliver everything she had to give.

“Just you wait, Brody Summers,” she murmured as she headed toward the kitchen. “Tonight, you're getting the lap dance to end all lap dances.”

 

Chapter 17

“Y
OU
AND
I need to talk,” Brody said as he closed the kitchen door and headed for the chairs lining the table. Sitting down, he began unlacing his work boots, his gaze fixed on his brother.

“Yeah, we do.” Josh leaned back against the kitchen counter, holding a beer in each hand. His spiral notebook stuck out of his back pocket, but Josh didn't reach for it. “What the hell were you thinking, chasing me to The Lost Kitten?”

“Trying to keep you from doing something stupid,” Brody snapped as the first boot hit the floor. “Or getting hurt.”

“I'm cleared to drive. I have been for over a month. Just because I can't always remember where I'm headed doesn't mean I don't know how to operate my truck. And Megan was with me.”

Brody shook his head. “I can't believe you didn't tell me I'd hired a topless waitress to take care of you. Or hell, write it on a Post-­it note.”

“I took it as a sign of love.” Josh raised one bottle to his lips and took a long drink. “And she's not working for us anymore,” he added. “She's quitting. We planned to tell you today, but you were working.”

“You're still seeing her.” Brody set his second boot beside his first.

“She's out in the studio apartment right now. I just came in for some refreshments.” He held up the bottles. “There's more in the fridge. And you look like you could use one. Or you could just head upstairs. Katie is staying at Liam's house tonight,” he added. “I called Chad and told him to clear out too. The place is all yours, and I believe the good doctor is waiting for you in your room.” Josh headed for the door. “Feel free to make all the noise you want.”

“We're not done here.” Brody crossed his arms on his chest. Part of him wanted to race up the stairs, find Kat and lose himself in her. But first he needed to talk to his brother.

“We are for tonight,” Josh said, and grinned at him. “Did I mention Megan was waiting for me in the apartment?”

“Yeah, you did.”

His brow furrowed as he studied his brother. Something was different. Brody's gaze drifted to the notebook, and the realization damn near knocked the wind out of him.

“You haven't checked your notes once,” he said, arms falling to his sides.

Josh looked at the floor, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, about that. My memory has been coming back. Bit by bit.”

“And you didn't tell anyone?”

“I told Kat. Or she figured it out.”

Your brother is on the road to recovery
. He'd been meaning to ask her what she meant by those words.

“I asked her not to tell you,” Josh added. “I still feel like I can't quite trust it. You know, like did I get a very special wake-­up call from Megan or was that my imagination?”

“Joke all you want,” Brody said, closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around his little brother. “I'm just so fucking relieved that Kat's treatment is working.”

“I'm not sure that is the reason,” Josh said as Brody released him and stepped back. Suddenly starting his day in a room full of strippers—­with the only woman he wanted to see naked—­didn't seem quite so bad. And so what if he'd spent the remaining hours of daylight in a ditch trying to fix a truck that belonged in the junkyard? The end was looking pretty damn good.

“I think my memory was coming back before she arrived. Doc said it could happen at any time. I didn't trust it, so it really freaked me out. And probably contributed to my depression.”

Brody frowned. “Is Kat kicking you out of the trial?”

“She doesn't know for sure yet. We talked about it on the drive back today. She hasn't heard from the lead doctor, but it doesn't sound good. I can keep taking the antidepressant. And she had a few other ideas.” Josh hesitated. “But she'll probably be leaving soon. I'm sorry, Brody.”

“Don't be. I'll talk to her.” He clapped Josh on the arm, the relief still pulsing through him. “And we're here for you. Don't forget that. For as long as it takes. Now go, see Megan.”

Josh disappeared into the darkness, the door slamming shut behind him. Brody ran his hands over his face, the relief still seeping in. Tomorrow he could talk to Josh about the long-­term. He'd call a family meeting and they'd figure it out together. Right after he met the tow truck to haul the broken-­down semi off the side of the logging road. Plus, he needed to sit down with Kat to find out if his brother was officially out of the trial.

And somewhere in there, he should probably tell her that he was falling in love with her. Somewhere between keeping the trucking side of Moore Timber running, taking every search and rescue mission that came his way, and looking out for his family, he needed to ask Kat to stay. Because any way he looked at their relationship, she was his.

His hand on the banister, one foot on the bottom stair, Brody closed his eyes. Maybe he should go up there and have that conversation right now, before they landed back in his bed. It was the right thing to do. Kat deserved to know that he wanted something lasting with her. Settling for less felt plain wrong.

And it would break his heart.

At the top of the stairs he headed for his door. His day, the crazy rush to find his brother, the call to help with the truck, the knowledge that Josh was getting better, it all faded away as he turned the knob. The need to see Kat, to hold her, rose to the surface.

Stepping into the bedroom he'd lived in for the past thirty-­some years, he spotted her on his bed. His gaze ran up her long bare legs to the slip of black lace covering the part of her body he wanted to worship until sunrise, over her belly to her chest. Matching lace cups covered her breasts. In one hand she held a magazine, the pages folded back to reveal a picture of a brain. Her gaze met his and her entire face lit up with an intoxicating mix of need and excitement.

Lying there, waiting for him, she took his fucking breath away. His Little Miss Perfect.

“Some light reading?” he asked.

“Neurology Today.”
She set the magazine on the nightstand and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up. “They published my article on new ways to treat athletes suffering from multiple concussions.”

“Let me guess, baking?”

She laughed. “That's part of it.”

“I hear it works. One of your patients just told me his memory is coming back.”

“Josh did? Good. I'm sorry I couldn't say anything.”

Brody shook his head. “Don't be. He was your patient. Not me.”

“I'm glad we're clear on that,” she murmured, rising from the bed. “I had plans for tonight that would be highly inappropriate if I was treating you.”

She closed the space between them and rose up on her tiptoes to brush a kiss over his lips. “How was your day, Brody?”

“I woke up missing you in my bed.” He held onto her hips, needing to keep her close. “Once I got you back, I had to leave you in a strip club. But then I came home, learned my brother was going to be OK. And then I found you here. In my bed.”

“Sounds like a roller-­coaster. Lots of ups and downs. Maybe I should help you relax.” She placed a hand on his chest, pressing him back. “Are you ready for your private dance? Your brother took his time finishing his breakfast at the club. While I waited, I watched the dancers.”

“Oh?” They hadn't captured his attention. But the thought of Kat watching them . . . oh yeah, he liked that mental picture. But then the thought of Kat doing just about anything would probably turn him on. “Did you like what you saw?”

Her hands moved to his biceps, guiding him back until his calves hit the chair. “I learned a few moves.”

“I don't give a damn about their moves,” he growled, his need rising. Two nights without her in his bed and he was damn near dying to have her. “I want you.”

Desire flared in her green eyes. “Sit, Brody.”

He obeyed, drawing her down with him. His hands ran up her thighs as she straddled his lap. “I need to touch you,” he said.

“It's against the rules. The bouncers were clear on that. Some guy tried to pull one of the dancer's panties off while she was lying across his table and—­”

“I'm not some guy, Kat.” He palmed her perfect ass, his fingers running over the thin strip of her thong underwear. “I'm yours.”

She began to move over him, her hips grinding against his lap. “I'll let the rules slide. This time. On one condition.”

“I'm listening.”

Leaning forward, her breasts pressed against his chest, her lips touched his ear. “Close your eyes and tell me about your fantasy lap dance.”

“Easy.”

He captured her mouth, kissing her deeply. Keeping his eyes closed, he broke away as his hands moved up her back to the clasp of her bra. He undid the series of hooks, felt his way to her shoulders and guided the straps down. The bra fell to his lap as he cupped her breasts.

“You,” he said, opening his eyes. “You're my fantasy.”

And so much more
.

“You have me.” Kat's hands pulled at his T-­shirt, freeing it from his pants.

His thumbs brushed her nipples. “Good, because I can't let you go.”

“Hmm, please don't.”

Brody's hands froze. He needed to tell her now. This was so much more than foreplay. “Kat—­”

“Lean forward,” she ordered, her movements frantic as she drew his shirt over his head. She placed a hand on his shoulder, pressing him back, and reached for his belt.

He had so much to say, but feeling her fingers against his lower abdomen, unbuttoning his pants, drawing the zipper down . . . She brushed his dick, and his mind zeroed in on one thought.

Take me.

“The dancers at The Lost Kitten, did they strip off their customers' clothes?” he asked.

“No. I'm improving on their model.” She shifted off his lap. Standing between his splayed legs, she reached for his waistband. “Lift your hips.”

He did as she asked, his pants and underwear joining his shirt in a pile on the floor. Her gaze lingered on his erection for a second before she looked up.

“Don't move, Brody.”

Swaying her hips to an imaginary beat, she began to dance. Her fingers toyed with her thong. Slowly, she slid the slip of black lace down her legs and kicked them to the side.

“If you find those later, you can keep them,” she said. “As a souvenir.”

“I don't want your underwear, Kat. I want you.” His fingers dug into the arms of the chair. “And I'm going to want you tomorrow and the day after that.”

“Brody,” she gasped, running her hands up her naked body, cupping her breasts as she continued to move.

“I want you, Kat.” He would never stop saying those words to her. Over and over, he'd make damn sure she opened her eyes every morning feeling wanted—­a part of his life and his family.

Releasing her breasts, she placed her hands on his shoulders and reclaimed his lap. She was wet and hot against his cock and he nearly forgot the words he needed to say before he sank into her.

His hands moved to her hips, holding her still.

“Brody?” She raised an eyebrow, the heat and need in her eyes matching his. He hoped. God, he hoped she felt the same way.

“You deserve so much more, Kat.”

She slipped her hand between them, reaching for him. “I'm not sure I could handle any more.”

The humor in her tone was like a warning. And a signal that she'd raised her defenses.

“Kat, I need you to listen to me.” He kept his gaze locked with hers, watching as wariness displaced desire.

“I thought we agreed to abandon the serious sex,” she murmured.

“That's not what I'm asking for. I want to be wild with you, Kat. But you should know where this is going, how I feel about you.”

“Is this about the lap dance? Is this your way of regaining the upper hand? If you want control, take it, Brody. Take me.”

“This is not just sex,” he said. “Not for me. Maybe it started out that way, and heck, I thought I was stretched too thin to add a relationship to my life right now, so I held onto that thought. But I fell for you.”

He felt her pulling away, her hands pressing against his chest as her feet scrambled to find the floor. But he couldn't hold back the words.

“Kat, I'm falling in love with you.”