Chapter 9
“Why dothey use cocks to lure fish?” Hellcat looked horrified. “Surely, there’s a better way. I mean, are there animals out there walking around without penises just so people can fish?”
“Stop.” He couldn’t catch his breath. “Man, you like saying that word.”
“Excuse me. You made me touch a cock.”
That sent him laughing even harder. “It’s the feathers from a gray jungle fowl called a jungle cock. But you can’t use real ones anymore, so this is all synthetic.”
“Well, why didn’t you say that?” Color stained her cheeks. “So, I didn’t touch actual starling skin?”
“No, that was actual skin. But the cock is just feathers.”
“Now who likes saying cock?” She pulled back. “Okay, I’m bowing out of this project. You can fondle the cocks and skin.”
“That’s fair.” He closed the box and followed her out. “How about I hang these on the tree while you shower? The water should be warm by now.”
“I would love that.” That crease formed between her brows. “But will there be enough for two of us to shower? I have to wash my hair and shave and everything.”
“Probably not.”
“Oh, well.” She flounced away from him. “I guess we’ll just have to shower together.”
And that was his tipping point. He’d fought hard not to let her scent give him wood. He’d overcome his lust when she’d fanned the feathers over her palm—even when he’d imagined her doing the same thing to his actual cock.
But with a comment like that, and the visual it delivered, his dick went hard.
Because he could picture it—the water raining down on her skin, her nipples beaded, her hair streaming down her back. He could imagine lathering up her body, learning its curves, holding the weight of her breasts in his hands.
And squeezing their plump fullness.
“You should see your face right now.” She laughed from the doorway. “I can only joke about it because you made it clear I’m not your type.”
“I don’t remember saying anything like that, but trust me, if I did, it was to help you fall asleep.”
“Oh.” Her features shifted from surprise to awareness…to something unconsciously sultry.
She was imagining it, too. And that sent a wave of desire coursing through him. Was she picturing sucking him into her mouth, his hands at the back of her head? Or him on his knees, gripping her ass as he licked her into an orgasm that curled her toes?
Fuck yeah, he wanted to taste her. Wanted to feel her hips squirm and hear her cries.
But nothing like that would ever happen between them. “Hellcat, it was dark, remember? I couldn’t see a thing.”
“That’s a good point. Okay, I’ll just go shower.” She turned to go but glanced at him over her shoulder. “So, you are attracted to me?”
He wanted to answer, but he was still in that shower with her, his mouth sucking the water droplets off her tits, her soapy hands tugging on his cock. It was an impossible task, asking him to fight off an erection when he couldn’t stop the onslaught of images coming at him.
“If you’re going to wonder what I look like naked, you could at least wait until I close the door.”
His laughter broke the tension and got his mind out of the shower. “I’m sorry. I’m trying very hard here.”
“So, what is your type?” she asked.
He’d only ever gone out with a certain type of woman. But his reaction to Hellcat told him something new. “I guess I don’t have one.”
“Are you a boob man? Ass? Legs?”
“I don’t know how to answer that.”
“Because you don’t want to hurt my feelings?” she asked.
“Because I’m attracted to the whole package. I don’t think you’ll find a lot of guys who care about the size of a woman’s breasts. We want a woman who’s—” He shut his mouth, catching himself before he said something offensive.
“No, don’t. Don’t try to find a more polite way to say the truth. I really want to know.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Down to fuck.”
And there it was again, that unconscious response that softened her lips and stoked a fire in her eyes. This woman had not been fucked well.
“How can you tell? If a woman’s down to…fuck? I mean, lots of women have a…a come hither look in their eyes. How do you know the ones who just want a roll in the hay?”
“So, basically, you revert to cliches when you’re uncomfortable?”
She grinned. “Oh, just answer the question. When will I ever get these kinds of insights from a real man?”
“What about that shower?”
“The longer I put it off, the more hot water I get.” She leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms in a stance that said, I’m waiting.
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it before.”
“We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Okay, fine. But the answer came when he thought about the last time he’d hooked up with someone. “There’s a look in her eyes. I can tell what she wants.”
She lowered her arms. “What does that mean?”
He had to give it more thought, but when he remembered scanning the club, one woman jumped out at him. She was a gorgeous blonde with a sculpted ass. But while he’d found her attractive, he’d quickly looked away. “She can be the most beautiful woman in the world, but if she’s got hope in her eyes, I’m not interested.”
“How can you tell? You’re seeing through the lens of your own experience, you know. Maybe she’s thinking about the hot dog she’s going to get from the food truck right outside the bar. She’s hoping he has enough mustard and relish.”
Of all the things for her to say… Hellcat made him smile. “It’s not like that.” How did he explain? “Some women have a guarded look. They’ve been hurt, and they’re hoping you won’t do it, too. They’re too complicated. That’s a pass. Others are out to seduce. They scare me. I don’t need maneaters.”
“Maneaters, huh? What does that mean?”
“It’s a woman who tags you as the one she’s going home with. She comes on strong. She’s going to show you the time of your life in bed.”
“What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that what you want?”
“She’s too frantic. Too aggressive.”
She shook her head. “You need to write a manual.”
“You asked.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I do want to hear. So, go on. No judgment.”
“Some women have a hopeful look, and I’m not going out with someone who wants more than I want to give.”
“I mean, you say that, but when you meet the right person, that’ll go right out the window. If there’s one thing you have no control over, it’s falling in love. It hits you right out of nowhere.”
“I’m sure that’s true for most people, but not me. I have a different vantage point. In my field, very few people have lasting marriages.” Professional athletes spent so much time away from home, they tended to lead separate lives from their spouses. Combine that with the celebrity aspect, and cheating was rampant among them. “My job is twenty-four seven, and my clients come first. If they don’t, I don’t make money, and I lose my job. It’s just not compatible with having a family.”
“So, you don’t date?” she asked.
“No. I’m serious when I tell you my life is consumed by my job.”
“Oh, come on. Even the president has a wife and kids. I mean, if you’re asexual, I get it.”
“I’m not asexual. And you asked if I date. I spend time with women, but I don’t date.”
“I don’t know what that means. Come on, we’re being honest with each other. Just saying it like it is. You pay for sex?”
He laughed. “No.” Fine. She wanted the truth, so he’d give it to her. “I’m looking to fuck.”
An involuntary shiver hit her body, and she sucked in a breath.
Desire roared through him. Because she’d just told him exactly how responsive she’d be in bed. That she didn’t want him to hold her hand and whisper sweet nothings. Well, maybe she did. But she also wanted him to fuck her into next week. “You asked for the truth.”
She fanned herself. “I know, but it’s the way you said it. Please tell me that’s how you are in bed, all commanding and hard?”
“Well, I’m not romantic and lovey-dovey, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Phew. All right. I’m going to shower. And it’s going to take even longer, so don’t come knocking.” She shut the door. “And if you hear screams, I promise I don’t need saving.”
He had tremendous restraint, but this woman was killing him. His cock was hard and throbbing.
You are not sleeping with this woman.
You’re not fucking Hellcat.
If he were home, he’d go to the gym. But he wasn’t, so…
Time to go shovel snow.
* * *
Hands against the cool tiled wall, Lorelei let the hot water stream down her body.
She couldn’t get it out of her mind. The length of his hard erection pressing against his jeans…the sound of his voice when he’d said, “I’m looking to fuck.”
Her body still tingled. Just like it did after a really good orgasm when her body still felt tremors.
This man would destroy her in bed.
She thought about Landon. His light touch and easy caresses. He was patient, so he got the job done. Maybe they’d been together too long—or maybe he just wasn’t into her—but there was no hunger in him. He’d never gotten her so excited she’d shiver.
Booker had seen her reaction. She was sure of it. He’d clenched his fists, and the muscle in his jaw had popped. He’d bit down on his bottom lip like he had to physically restrain himself from pouncing on her. Which, I mean, come on?—
Make me hotter.
Give me one night with this man, and I’ll be a changed woman.
Or, at least, she’d have a hard time walking.
She’d played it off like it was a big joke.
I’m going to get off in the shower now. Ha ha.
But no way would she do that. Not with him out there listening. Right?
No, of course not. I would never.
Desire spread through her in a hot rush. Then again, what if he did hear, would he storm in here and give her that feral look? Would he strip off his clothes, throw open the glass door and claim her mouth? Take her up against the wall…
No, stop. You’re not having sex with him.
God, no. Not when she had no idea how long they’d be stuck together. If things went sideways, it’d be disastrous. Neither had anywhere to go. They had to stop playing with each other.
I’m the one playing.
Not him. He hadn’t given her even a hint of innuendo.
And then, she remembered what he’d said. He can read a woman’s expression. She bet, when he looked at her, he saw wariness.
You’re not going to hurt me, are you?
Please don’t hurt me.
She got what he was saying. Of course, he’d see that. After what Landon and Cis had done, she wouldn’t be trusting anyone for a very long time. If ever.
But wait a minute.Was she feeling that way with him? She wasn’t fragile or worried or anything like that. In fact, there was only one thing he could see when he looked into her eyes.
Her need to be touched. To feel like a woman in the most primal way.
She needed a man to look at her the way Slick did. Like he wanted to devour her.
Maybe he’s exactly what I need.
The water started to cool down, so she quickly washed and conditioned her hair. It got even colder, but she had to shave. What if they shared a bed again, and his leg brushed against hers?
When she stepped out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around her body, and a second one around her hair, twisted it, and swung the tail down her back. While it seemed bizarre to even think about sleeping with a total stranger, her attraction went beyond anything she’d ever experienced.
It was just… she felt a real connection to him. Maybe because they had so many things in common. She didn’t know exactly, but on some level, she got him.
He came off all hard and cold, a heartless businessman with his fancy watch and designer boots. But she’d seen him stare at that tackle box. One hand on top of it, the other squeezing his knee as if he was holding back a tide of emotion.
The man felt things deeply.
He was genuine. He spoke the truth, even when it was difficult. And it was the only reason she could relax around a total stranger in her space.
Thanks to the generator, the cabin was comfortably warm, making it easy to shed her towels and get dressed. She set aside the puffy robe and chose leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. Sliding her feet back into her slippers, she headed for the door.
Right before she opened it, she glanced at the dresser. On top, she had an assortment of perfumes and candles. Even though she’d seen evidence of his attraction to her—without makeup, unbathed, and in a robe that made her look like a marshmallow—she couldn’t help wanting to…appeal to him.
So, she spritzed a tiny amount of her favorite scent on her wrists and rubbed them together. And then, just as she was putting the bottle back, she did one last blast on her collarbone.
Excited to see him, she hurried out of the room. She’d make hot cocoa—oh, wait. He wouldn’t like her pods. That’s fine. Maybe he could teach her how to make the real thing. They could sit by the fire with bowls of popcorn and mugs of cocoa piled high with whipped cream.
But when she came into the living room, she found he wasn’t there. She checked the kitchen. No, the cabin was empty. “Slick?” she called, though she didn’t know why. He wasn’t there.
She got a sickening feeling he’d left without saying goodbye. Doubts and insecurities spilled like paint from a kicked bucket, staining her self-esteem. She was too weird for him. Hadn’t he caught her singing and dancing that morning? She smelled funky from not bathing for two days. Oh, God. She closed her eyes when she remembered she’d talked about parallel lives and pretend cats.
Worst of all, he’d never met a grown woman who didn’t know how to use a flipping cheese grater.
But then, she remembered she had fourteen Grammys and millions of fans around the world. And that happened because she’d worked her ass off and became really good at her job.
I took music and singing lessons. I went to songwriting camps.
I’m proud of myself. And if some man with a nice jawline and a cashmere sweater doesn’t think I’m all-that, then that’s just not my problem.
It was only after her empowerment speech wound down that she noticed his leather duffel bag by the door. She glanced out the window and saw snow flying. She watched him shovel, moving fast, methodically, and he was just so…masculine. So strong. His wool cap was pulled over his ears, and his hands were covered in big, thick gloves. She wanted to tell him to come in. It was too cold to be out there, but she wasn’t his mother.
He wouldn’t want me telling him what to do.
Still, she watched him for a moment. He was working hard, almost furiously, and she couldn’t help wondering if he was working through some sexual tension.
I’ve got a better idea.
He could apply all that furious effort to her body. Ooh, she could just imagine his features red from exertion, his skin gleaming with sweat, as he pounded into her, giving her the powerful thrusts she never knew she craved until right this minute.
Her blood went hot. Lust pulsed in her core. This is not good.
Especially when his issues probably had nothing to do with her. This man had a life—and a job—that was under siege. He probably dealt with his problems by working out. Since he didn’t have a gym, he was shoveling snow.
He might be a revelation for her, but he wasn’t the one discovering his sexual side.
Maybe she was the one who needed to work off some pent-up energy.
She trudged back into the bedroom and peeled off her leggings and sweatshirt. In the closet, she changed into her blue ski pants, thermal undershirt, and fleece jacket. She grabbed wool socks out of the dresser drawer, pulled a scarf off the hook, and pulled on the beanie with the pink fur ball on top. Then, she covered her hands in gloves and went to grab her parka from the closet by the back door.
But when she stepped outside, the cold cut right through every layer as if she wore nothing but a nightshirt. Her cheeks burned. How could he stand it out here? What was he even shoveling? A path from the shed to the road?
Boy, he really wanted to get out of here.
And that pissed her off. Here I am fantasizing about this man, and he’s chewing off his arm to get away from me.
She grabbed a handful of snow, packed it, and then hurled it at the back of his head. It missed, of course. No surprise there. So, she moved closer. While his shovel scraped and heaved, she formed a bunch of icy projectiles and set them on top of a snowdrift. Once she had a good supply, she started lobbing them. Dammit. She kept missing. She crept closer, and finally, the fourth one hit the back of his head, exploding in a spray of glittery white crystals.
She dropped, clapping her hand over her mouth to suppress her laughter.
When she rose high enough to peer at him, she found him looking around. He didn’t see anyone, so he went back to work. In a rush of energy, she tossed another one. This one landed between his shoulder blades. She grinned so wide her cheeks hurt.
He slammed the shovel into the snow and surveyed the area. “Hellcat, if I were you, I’d head back inside. You don’t want to get into a snowball fight with a former hockey player.”
She popped up and lobbed another one. It hit his chin, exploding on impact, leaving crystals on his eyelashes and scruff. She ducked down again, waiting.
Should I go back inside?
How mean could he be?
Her body buzzed with excitement, and she didn’t want to make a move until she knew he’d gone back to work. After a few moments, she heard the scrape of the shovel, so she knew it was safe. He’d given up. Slowly, she stood.
Slick whipped around, releasing a snowball that hit her square in the face. She shrieked. “What are you, a ninja?” Quickly, she grabbed more from her pile and threw, but she was no match for his precision. One after another, the chilly missiles came hard and fast, completely overwhelming her.
She fought back, but her aim wasn’t nearly as good. Also, she’d run out of stock, so all she could do was grab handfuls of snow and toss them as he made a relentless march toward her. Snow stuck to her eyelashes, her hair, her face, and her clothes, and she’d never felt more exhilarated.
“Wait, wait. Time out.” She held one hand on top of the other in a T-shape. Still, a ball hit her forehead. “Are you nuts? This isn’t a death sport. It’s a friendly snowball fight—” Another slammed her right in the mouth. “This is what happens when you don’t have siblings. You don’t know how to play. Stop.” She was gasping for air, laughing too hard to speak.
And then, he came up to her. “You just said it was a fight.”
“A friendly one. It’s supposed to be playful.”
“Playful, huh?” He pretended to think about it, like the concept of play was a revelation. “Okay, so, you’ll stop, too, right?” He had a wicked gleam in his eyes, so she knew not to trust him.
“Of course. I’m nothing if not honorable.”
“Great. Cool. I’ll just finish shoveling.”
“To where? Yellowstone?” As he turned away from her, she snatched a handful of snow and yanked on the waistband of his jeans.
She should’ve known better. As if anticipating her, his arm came around and whacked hers away. With his other hand, he stuffed a snowball down the collar of her coat. Ice skittered down her back, and she shrieked, pulling the layers of clothing away from her body. It was clear, unless she stripped naked, she had no choice but to endure the cold until her body heat melted the snow.
Instead, she threw herself at him. She’d assumed he’d fall back into the snow, but the behemoth didn’t even budge. He lifted her into the air like she was made of feathers and tossed her.
He literally tossed her.
She landed on her back, sinking deeply. “Are you out of your mind?”
“I warned you about messing with a hockey player.”
“Former. And that was a lifetime ago.”
“Once a player…” He plopped snow onto her face. “Always a player.”
“I’m a woman. I’m not a dude comparing the size of my balls.”
“Oh, I know you’re a woman. You like to make that very…” He reached for her, hauling her up so fast and hard, she slammed against his chest. “Clear.” He dipped his face into her neck. “Did you put on perfume for me?”
“I know this is going to be hard for you to believe, but not every woman drops her panties for you.” I would.
I’d totally drop them right now.
With his face just inches from hers, her laughter faded. The intensity of his gaze kicked up the desire she’d worked so hard to suppress.
“You’re thinking about me naked in the shower, aren’t you?”
His features went rigid.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re wondering what I did in there. If I touched myself while thinking about you.” Holy moly. She’d never talked like this before in her life.
But the fire burning in his eyes sent a sizzle through her. His gaze dropped to her mouth.
Is he going to kiss me?
Oh, God. Please do it. Kiss me.