Once again, Beau didn’t give Natalie a chance to answer. He opened the truck door for her, light from the dome spilling out into the dark, and said to Tilson, “We’ve got to discuss scheduling on the way back to her car. Got to use that time wisely.”
Hell no, he wasn’t feeling proprietary at the thought of Tilson nibbling at the fullness of her lower lip or mouthing her tightly budded nipple through her T-shirt the way he himself had earlier. Not a whit, because Beau didn’t do proprietary with women. They were fun, a good time was had by all, and he moved on. Nope. It was simply that Natalie taking off with Tilson didn’t fit in with his plan. That was all. Nothing more.
Natalie shot Beau a look that promised more to say on the matter later. However, she said to Tilson as she slid into the cab, “Thanks, but we do need to wrap up the business.”
Beau closed her door. “See ya, Tilson,” he said as he rounded the truck to his side. Tilson looked decidedly unhappy but that wasn’t Beau’s problem, now was it?
Natalie sat buckled in the middle. She gestured to the mess next to her. “That seat belt is done for. I can’t get the buckle loose and the belts won’t retract.”
He grinned and slid in next to her. “I’m not complaining.” He buckled up and they headed back to the drag strip.
They weren’t touching but he felt her body heat with mere inches separating her hips, thighs and shoulder from his. He caught an occasional whiff of her perfume, or maybe it was just her shampoo and the smell of her skin, but he liked it. He was more than ready to take up where they’d left off when Tilson had arrived.
“Just to set the record straight. I’m a big girl and fully capable of answering for myself.”
What? Like he was just going to sit back while Tilson moved in and screwed up his plans? Not likely. Plus, she didn’t have any business getting involved with the former Marine.
“Tilson’s wife left him while he was on his last tour of duty in Iraq. He has issues.” There. Issues was one of those girly buzzwords he heard his mother and sister and their friends use. He’d give her something to relate to and reveal his softer, feminine side.
“So, that’s why you acted like such a jerk.”
Obviously his softer, feminine side hadn’t come through. “Don’t you think jerk’s a little harsh?”
“Harsh? I gave you the benefit of the doubt.”
“I was being thoughtful. Gallant, even. I only had your best interest at heart.”
She snorted. “And there I was thinking you were simply being manipulative and high-handed. Regardless, I’m fully capable of making my own decisions. And just for the record, Tilson’s not my cup of tea.”
He knew a moment of smug satisfaction. He nodded. “What is your type?”
“Suit and tie. Professional.”
That was no real surprise. “Ah, a sissy boy with soft hands. Someone who doesn’t break a sweat to do his job.”
“I prefer to think of it as brains rather than brawn.”
Maybe. And she could go on about brains and a suit and tie all day long, but he’d bet his racecar her panties had been wet earlier. “I’d say someone easily managed, who asks how high when you say jump. I think you have control issues.”
She sputtered, actually, honest to God sputtered. “I…you…you…” And then she laughed, more with incredulity than amusement. “You think I have control issues? Okay.”
He could tell there was so much more she wanted to say, except she was working for his sister. He bit back a chuckle. He’d like to hear what she wasn’t saying.
“So, do you have one of those sissy boys on a string back in Nashville? I’m just asking because I’m not so sure he’d approve of the way you kissed me earlier.”
“Wait a minute! You’re seriously confused if you think I kissed you. You kissed me.”
He hazarded a glance her way in the dashboard glow. Was that a flash of devilment in her brown eyes?
“No confusion here. And I can tell you now, sugar, if you were mine, I wouldn’t want you kissing someone else that way.”
He sensed—no, felt—the shift in her before she ever took action or opened her mouth. He’d pushed her to her limit. “Really? And if I were yours, be still my beating heart, how would you want me to kiss someone else?”
She released her seat belt. and before he could draw a breath she had twisted and curled one leg beneath her, levering herself up and bracing one hand on his shoulder, her warm breath teasing against his neck. “Like this?” She nuzzled beneath his ear and then nipped the tip of his lobe.
Holy hell. The sensation shot straight to his dick. She caught the recently nipped spot between her lips and sucked. His balls tightened as surely as if she’d cupped them in her hot little hands and gently squeezed.
He acknowledged the contest of wills. “No, baby, definitely not like that.”
“Then what about this? Would this be acceptable?” She trailed hot, open mouthed kisses down the column of his neck and he was damn glad to see the drag strip entrance to his left because at this point he was DUI—driving under the influence of her distracting mouth.
He pulled into the spot next to her minivan in the nearly deserted lot and threw his truck into Park. “Definitely not acceptable.”
He released his seat belt, turned and reached for her. She intercepted him, pushing him until his back was against the door, and leaned up on her knees. “Then maybe this?” Her mouth skated over his and she delivered light, flirty kisses that had his heart thumping out of control. Her hair tickled against his neck and he spanned her waist with his hands.
“Or this,” she murmured against his mouth and then moved on to deep, soulful kisses. She captured his tongue and sucked and stroked it with hers. Stroke, suck, stroke, suck. It was a mind-numbing, cock-hardening, ball-tightening rhythm. If she could do that to his tongue he’d love to have her work that magic on his cock. He groaned into her mouth.
She pulled back and started to slide across the seat. “Did you find that acceptable?”
FIRE. She was playing with fire. She was on fire. While it was true that Beau had provoked her, she’d wanted to kiss him again. She needed to get out of here while she could still think about something other than how good he felt and tasted and the achy, hot need coiling tighter and tighter inside her.
Before she could move any further, he reached out, wrapped his big hands around her arms and hauled her back to the solid hardness of his body. “I’m still trying to decide if that’s acceptable. I think I need a replay.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs and a rush of wet heat surged between her thighs. If she had an ounce of sense, she’d skedaddle. He’d sort of manhandled her into his lap but she didn’t feel threatened. If she insisted, he’d let her go. Deep inside, she knew he was one of the good guys. But apparently her last ounce of sense had abandoned her because she didn’t want to leave. Instead, she wanted to flirt and tease and kiss him some more.
“You should pay closer attention the first time around,” she said. She ended on a tiny gasp as he bent his head and nuzzled at her neck, and then she felt the faint scrape of his teeth followed by the velvet stroke of his tongue. That felt so good. She moaned and closed her eyes.
“Maybe I just wanted seconds…” he said in a husky murmur as he worked his way up her neck, “…or thirds.”
She laughed softly and wound her arms around him. She’d only thought she was on fire before. His mouth found hers and she was drowning in the magic of his kiss. She molded