Hot Secrets
Page 19
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His eyes traveled a slow path up and down her body, and then settled on her face. “You know, I’ve always thought you were quite beautiful when you’re angry. Sometimes I get you fired up just to watch the way your eyes sparkle when your temper flares.” He stepped closer and reached to touch her cheek.
Lauren turned her head to avoid his touch. “Don’t,” she bit out.
He pulled his hand away, but his eyes felt like a melting ember on her skin. “We’d be good together, you and I.”
“Brad, stop,” Lauren said, looking at him, wanting him to see the distaste in her eyes.
“You’re afraid of how it would look,” he said, his hand going to the bookcase beside her, trapping her in a corner. “But you shouldn’t be. We aren’t blood relatives. You lost your mother. You found me. The press will eat it up. We’ll be everyone’s love story.”
She shut the book. “You’re talking craziness, Brad.”
His hand slid to her cheek and she slapped it away. Panic rushed over her. He never touched her and that he did now set off warning bells. She tried to step around him. He moved with her, blocking her.
“What’s gotten into you?” she demanded, hands pressed hard against his chest.
A wicked grin filled his face as his head dipped toward her. “You have, and I’d like to get into you.”
She’d always thought he was a little off somehow, always thought him a little too like some of the unsavory types she put behind bars, but he’d taken it to a whole new level today. She inhaled slowly, more than a little experienced with dealing with people like Brad. “I’m going to give you three seconds to move out of my way before I bring my knee to your crotch and make sure you know it’s there. One. Two. Three.” He moved, laughing evilly.
She yanked her phone from her purse, even as she walked towards the dining room to tell her father she was feeling sick. Of course, Sharon made a snide remark about ‘too much champagne will do that to you’ but Lauren let it ride. She just wanted out of the house, out of this house. And sadly, she wasn’t sure that wasn’t exactly what Brad, and Sharon, wanted. Lauren was the intruder, the outsider. She couldn’t complain and have it do any good. Her father wanted Sharon and he wouldn’t risk losing her; she’d learned that the hard way too many times to count. But ironically, neither could Sharon and Brad quite get rid of Lauren. And for the first time ever, Lauren felt done with this battle, done fighting for her home, for a family that wasn’t a family at all. In fact, she was so done with this, that she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t just let Brad and Sharon get what they really want. Maybe Lauren should just go away and stay away.
Chapter Seven
It was seven-thirty on the dot and Lauren sat at her kitchen table, her laptop open. A thunderous knock sounded on her front door, and a smile tugged at Lauren’s lips despite her nervousness over seeing Royce again. There was simply no doubt that he was her visitor, as there seemed to be nothing that man did in a small way.
With a combination of trepidation and eager anticipation, Lauren stood up and ran her hands over her light blue, long-sleeved dress, where it tapered at her waist. Her gaze dropped to ensure her skirt rested properly just above her knees, then to inspect her strappy black sandals, somehow comforted to see everything was where it should be.
She inhaled a deep, calming breath and then walked to the door and, without giving herself time to think, opened it. “Hi,” she said, her throat going dry even before she took in the sight he made standing there, somehow closer than she’d expected, while appearing bigger than she remembered. His hair was loose around his shoulders, black slacks molding a powerful lower body, his black button-down sculpting a stellar chest and arms.
“Hi,” he said, gifting her with a sexy grin that all but had her melting into her tiled floor. “You look amazing, Lauren.” His voice was velvety soft and full of welcome male appreciation.
“Thank you,” she said, her own voice a bit hoarser than it should have been, but then, it wasn’t often a girl had a man like this at her door, ready to take her to dinner while looking like he wanted to eat her for dinner. She stepped back into the hallway. “Come in.”
A moment later the door was closed, and they stood toe-to-toe, the scent of him, spicy and male, wrapping around her, teasing her senses. Delicately, she cleared her throat. “I should get my purse.”
“It can wait,” he said, his hands settling around her, pulling her close. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you all afternoon.” He nuzzled her neck. “So, can I?” His lips brushed her ear. “Can I kiss you, Lauren?”
Her hands settled on his shoulders and she laughed softly, surprised yet again by this man. She didn’t remember Roger, or any of the other men she’d dated for that matter, ever making her smile this much. They darn sure didn’t make her warm all over like Royce did. “You’re asking? After last night?”
With an easy step, he managed to back her against the wall, spreading his legs and pinning her with his body. “Last night was driven by champagne and emotion. Tonight is just about you and me.” His eyes were hot, his voice warm, gentle. He leaned toward her, intending to kiss her, and she couldn’t wait. She lifted up on her tiptoes to meet him halfway, but he didn’t let her have his mouth. He pulled back just enough to tease her with what might have been, what she hoped would be, and asked, “Is that a yes?”
Lauren turned her head to avoid his touch. “Don’t,” she bit out.
He pulled his hand away, but his eyes felt like a melting ember on her skin. “We’d be good together, you and I.”
“Brad, stop,” Lauren said, looking at him, wanting him to see the distaste in her eyes.
“You’re afraid of how it would look,” he said, his hand going to the bookcase beside her, trapping her in a corner. “But you shouldn’t be. We aren’t blood relatives. You lost your mother. You found me. The press will eat it up. We’ll be everyone’s love story.”
She shut the book. “You’re talking craziness, Brad.”
His hand slid to her cheek and she slapped it away. Panic rushed over her. He never touched her and that he did now set off warning bells. She tried to step around him. He moved with her, blocking her.
“What’s gotten into you?” she demanded, hands pressed hard against his chest.
A wicked grin filled his face as his head dipped toward her. “You have, and I’d like to get into you.”
She’d always thought he was a little off somehow, always thought him a little too like some of the unsavory types she put behind bars, but he’d taken it to a whole new level today. She inhaled slowly, more than a little experienced with dealing with people like Brad. “I’m going to give you three seconds to move out of my way before I bring my knee to your crotch and make sure you know it’s there. One. Two. Three.” He moved, laughing evilly.
She yanked her phone from her purse, even as she walked towards the dining room to tell her father she was feeling sick. Of course, Sharon made a snide remark about ‘too much champagne will do that to you’ but Lauren let it ride. She just wanted out of the house, out of this house. And sadly, she wasn’t sure that wasn’t exactly what Brad, and Sharon, wanted. Lauren was the intruder, the outsider. She couldn’t complain and have it do any good. Her father wanted Sharon and he wouldn’t risk losing her; she’d learned that the hard way too many times to count. But ironically, neither could Sharon and Brad quite get rid of Lauren. And for the first time ever, Lauren felt done with this battle, done fighting for her home, for a family that wasn’t a family at all. In fact, she was so done with this, that she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t just let Brad and Sharon get what they really want. Maybe Lauren should just go away and stay away.
Chapter Seven
It was seven-thirty on the dot and Lauren sat at her kitchen table, her laptop open. A thunderous knock sounded on her front door, and a smile tugged at Lauren’s lips despite her nervousness over seeing Royce again. There was simply no doubt that he was her visitor, as there seemed to be nothing that man did in a small way.
With a combination of trepidation and eager anticipation, Lauren stood up and ran her hands over her light blue, long-sleeved dress, where it tapered at her waist. Her gaze dropped to ensure her skirt rested properly just above her knees, then to inspect her strappy black sandals, somehow comforted to see everything was where it should be.
She inhaled a deep, calming breath and then walked to the door and, without giving herself time to think, opened it. “Hi,” she said, her throat going dry even before she took in the sight he made standing there, somehow closer than she’d expected, while appearing bigger than she remembered. His hair was loose around his shoulders, black slacks molding a powerful lower body, his black button-down sculpting a stellar chest and arms.
“Hi,” he said, gifting her with a sexy grin that all but had her melting into her tiled floor. “You look amazing, Lauren.” His voice was velvety soft and full of welcome male appreciation.
“Thank you,” she said, her own voice a bit hoarser than it should have been, but then, it wasn’t often a girl had a man like this at her door, ready to take her to dinner while looking like he wanted to eat her for dinner. She stepped back into the hallway. “Come in.”
A moment later the door was closed, and they stood toe-to-toe, the scent of him, spicy and male, wrapping around her, teasing her senses. Delicately, she cleared her throat. “I should get my purse.”
“It can wait,” he said, his hands settling around her, pulling her close. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you all afternoon.” He nuzzled her neck. “So, can I?” His lips brushed her ear. “Can I kiss you, Lauren?”
Her hands settled on his shoulders and she laughed softly, surprised yet again by this man. She didn’t remember Roger, or any of the other men she’d dated for that matter, ever making her smile this much. They darn sure didn’t make her warm all over like Royce did. “You’re asking? After last night?”
With an easy step, he managed to back her against the wall, spreading his legs and pinning her with his body. “Last night was driven by champagne and emotion. Tonight is just about you and me.” His eyes were hot, his voice warm, gentle. He leaned toward her, intending to kiss her, and she couldn’t wait. She lifted up on her tiptoes to meet him halfway, but he didn’t let her have his mouth. He pulled back just enough to tease her with what might have been, what she hoped would be, and asked, “Is that a yes?”
