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his trunks on the first attempt. When he stumbled to his feet, he knew
the reverberations coursing through his body weren t from the rocking
motion of the boat. But the aftereffects from a coma-inducing orgasm
courtesy of a woman with a heart as large as her wild streak.
Instead of retreating and ignoring the emotion clogging his throat, he
went to her. Nathan held her face gently to let her see how profoundly
she d affected him. He dove into her mouth with a languorous kiss,
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tasting the remnants of her soda and his spent passion.  Thank you. I d
come up with something more original, but the synapses in my brain
aren t firing yet.
 M-m-my pleasure. Tate smiled shyly then shivered.
He rubbed his palms up and down her arms.  Cold?
 Yeah. She wrapped the towel tight.  And it s getting late.
Nathan pulled anchor, stowing it in the boat s floor compartment.
The throaty growl of the engine made conversation difficult, but he was
so stunned by the turn of events he found himself speechless anyway.
Once he safely docked the boat and secured the tarp, he looked around
to see if the insulting man from the bait shop still lurked about. God,
that had been humiliating. Fortunately the lights were off and his truck
was the only vehicle in the parking lot.
Tate s flip-flops dragged as they trudged uphill to the pickup. Why
did he have this urge to swing her into his arms and hold her close until
her face was slack with sleep?  You tired?
Her smile was slightly embarrassed.  Must be past my bedtime.
 Sleep on the way home. He unlocked her door.  I ll take a rain
check on dinner.
 I m afraid you ll cancel if I don t get it in writing, she teased without
her usual gusto.
 I promise to take you wherever you want to go. He kissed the inside
of her wrist, locking their gazes while he gentled a hand over her face.
 You are beautiful.
 Thanks. She closed her eyes but a pleased smile remained.
Half an hour later Nathan shook her awake.  Tate, you re home. Her
eyes opened with that sexy, slumberous look he imagined she d sport
first thing in the morning. A whip of lust tightened his groin.
She leaned over the console to give him a quick peck.  Thank you. I
had fun. Good night.
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Dirty Deeds
He stopped her retreat with long heated, kisses. Her moist lips
shuddered and clung beneath his.  When can I see you again?
A low, seductive laugh emerged as she nipped his bottom lip.
 Nathan, she chided,  I am not the one with the overloaded schedule.
She had a point. He d cancelled two dinner dates with her this week.
 Friday night? I ll pick you up at seven.
 Pick me up? she echoed.  Why do we have to go someplace? Why
can t we just stay in and& 
Have wild, screaming, raw sex that wakes up the neighbors?
Neither had uttered that sentence, yet it hung in the dark confines of
his pickup. Nathan cleared his libido from his throat.  Because I play in
a men s pool league on Friday nights.
Her eyes widened.
She wasn t one of those snooty types that thought league pool was
hopelessly blue-collar? Or worse yet, had the encounter with the idiot on
the dock seeded doubt about them spending time together in view of
public disapproval?  You got a problem with that? he asked defensively.
 No. She mollified his flash of temper with a sweet kiss.  But since
we ll be in public that means strip nine ball is out of the question. She
grinned saucily before jumping out of the truck.
Nathan decided it was high time he stopped making any kind of
assumptions about the very surprising, very engaging Tate Cross.
Two nights later, feeling uninspired by her artistic attempts or the
television, Tate baked a batch of her Aunt Bea s famous sugar cookies.
But the sweet confection didn t offer its usual soothing properties nor did
the baking process ease her restless spirit.
She bit off a chunk and sighed. Sitting home alone wallowing in carbs
seemed pathetic. But where to go on a Thursday night? Grace declined
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her offer of margaritas and Richard said Val was napping. She was sick
of her own company. Her thoughts drifted to Nathan. What was he up
to? No brainer. He was probably still working.
But the man had to go home sometime, right? She brushed crumbs
from her chest. Speaking of home& why hadn t he invited her over to his
place? Visions of a swinging bachelor pad appeared, complete with satin
sheets, mirrored ceilings and a pleasure swing. The more she considered
his oversight, the more outlandish were the scenarios that developed. It
became imperative it that she discover just what Mr. Romance was
hiding.
Like most small town people, she imagined Nathan didn t bother to
lock up his house. She d sneak over to his place, leave a plate of warm
cookies to tempt him and be back home in time to watch the end of ER.
No sweat.
Tate zipped across the quiet town in her yellow VW, cruising his
street slowly so as not to miss his house number. The small, deserted-
looking gray one at the end of the cul-de-sac with a three-car garage
surrounded by a six-foot high chain link fence. Just as she suspected.
No lights on inside or outside.
She parked in the driveway and debated. Should she knock first?
Nah. That might ruin the surprise. She grabbed the plate of cookies and
hurried to the gate on the other side of the garage. She shivered when
the latch squeaked loudly in the too-still darkness. As she quickly
rounded the corner for the back door, a huge black muzzle materialized
from out of nowhere.
The beast snarled, spit frothing from a cavernous mouth that
snapped shark-like teeth. Black fur stood on end. Growls alternated with
low, menacing barks. It lunged, sporting razor sharp incisors that
gleamed in the dark. Tate screamed and froze in place in terror,
imagining those fangs sinking into her throat or ripping her leg from the
hip socket.
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Dirty Deeds
The chain clanked, jerking the monster back.
She breathed again, without moving, afraid her heart would leap from
her chest and the blasted animal would gobble it up for sport. Fat lot of
good it did the beast was shackled. She couldn t move forward or back to
the gate without knowing how far the chain reached. He d lured her with
his silence. Seemed they were at a standstill.
Stay calm. Think. Granted, she didn t know much about animals.
The phrase  they sense fear popped into her head. If she acted like she
was in control the demon might believe it. Tate stared at the two eyes
glowing red in the darkness. After a few minutes, the beast whimpered. It
whined. The tail wagged.
The tail wagged?
Her ruse had worked? Praise cable TV and the Discovery Channel.
With an alpha leader attitude, she commanded,  Sit. Miracle of miracles,
it sat. And looked at her expectantly for some kind of reward. A long
string of drool plopped noisily on the ground. Eww. She tossed over a
cookie. The beast practically swallowed it whole. She threw another
toward the cacophony of slobbering and chomping.
Tate sighed. Why hadn t Nathan told her he owned a trained attack
monster?
Because you don t want to know anything about him besides his
endurance in the bedroom.
Not true, her subconscious argued. This arrangement for lack of a
better term was turning into something neither of them expected, a
relationship of sorts. So why was she skulking around in his backyard in
the dark, lobbing cookies to a creature that d like nothing better than to
tear her to shreds?
Because she had missed Nathan, plain and simple. Not in a tear-his- [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]