Running her hands up his arms, she noticed some of the tension leave his body as he groaned and thentook possession of her mouth. His hand delved into her hair, gripping it and angling her head where he wanted. His other hand grasped her hip and yanked her toward him until they crashed into each other, and she could feel the ridge of his hard-on pressing insistently against her abdomen. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, repeatedly, leaving her breathless but reluctant to end the kiss to draw oxygen into her starved lungs.
He left her mouth, nibbling and licking along her jawline to her ear, and Tess lost all track of where they were and who might be nearby. As far as she was concerned, they were the only ones on the beach. His breath tickled her lobe, sending shivers down her spine. Her nipples peaked, the soft material of her bra abrading them. The apex of her legs grew wet.
“Tess, what are you doing to me? Not a minute goes by that I don’t think of you.” It sounded like a cross between an accusation and a confession.
As he nuzzled her neck, his words thrilled and scared her simultaneously. She wanted him desperately, but he said he didn’t do relationships, and she had a feeling that if they had one night together, it would never be enough for her.
Chapter 13
“What the fuck am I doing?”Brian thought, unable to stop touching and kissing Tess on a public beach in front of God knew who. First, he’d broken his promise to himself that he would be friendly yet distant toward her. They still had to see each other at work occasionally, and it was his responsibility to fix things at the house and ensure she and her brother didn’t need anything, since it was his invitation that brought them there. Then, he’d given in to his desire to spend time with her before breaking down and getting into a personal conversation. He had no idea what possessed him to tell her about his near-death experience the other day, when he hadn’t even told his family or his partner about it. Hell, he hadn’t even mentioned it to the psychologist whom he and the other officersinvolved in the shooting were required to speak to, as per department policy.
But there he was, pouring his guts out to Tess about how close he’d come to being killed and the PTSD he now suffered from. And what had she done? She’d touched and soothed him, taking him out of that dark place seconds before kissing him. At first, he’d resisted, not wanting to get her hopes up that there could be more between them than one or two rounds of hot sex. However, the comfort she offered him, coupled with the desire for her that he’d been fighting for days, shattered his resistance, and he gave in.
He wrapped his arms around her, letting his hands roam over her back as he returned to her mouth and thrust his tongue between her parted lips. Nothing had ever tasted as delicious as Tess Bingham—no food, drink, or any other woman. Unlike the kiss they shared in the kitchen last week, he couldn’t force himself to end it right then. If touching her and devouring her mouth were all he did for the rest of his life, he’d die a happy man.
His balls grew heavy, and his cock hardened, silently demanding he take this woman right then and there. Suppressing the urge to cup her ass, he slid his hands up to delve into the slick, soft strands of her hair. A moan, desperate and needy, escaped her, and he sucked her tongue into his mouth, laving it with the attention he wished he could give her clit.
A rogue wave swept past them, and the shock ofthe cold water against their feet and calves made them jump apart. Tess squealed and hurried back a few steps as the water receded. Brian wasn’t sure what he expected to see on her face, but it wasn’t the huge grin and bright eyes he discovered.
Before he could say or do anything, she ran toward him again, grabbed his hand, and pulled him forward, away from the water and up onto dry sand. “More waves are coming in. Damn, that was cold. How could you stand it?”
If he could admit it to her, he would’ve said he hadn’t been able to notice anything but her. The way she tasted and smelled. How she moaned and moved against him. And how he wanted to lay her down on the sand, strip her naked, and sate his lust for her, witnesses be damned.
From her lighthearted expression, she didn’t regret kissing him, and no way would he admit he felt the same way. While her cheeks were flushed and desire swirled in her eyes, he got the sense that the intimate moment was over and she was fine with that. She wasn’t pushing him for more like some women he’d dated. They never lasted long. As soon as they started talking about white-picket fences, engagement rings, and kids, he ended things. Just as he’d done with Tess, he ensured those women knew the score before taking them into his bed. Some fun dates and sex were all he’d been willing to offer them. Long-term relationships, the forever kind, weren’t his thing. While he was happy hisbrothers had found the ladies they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with, he couldn’t see himself settling down and waking up to the same woman for the next forty or fifty years.
However, Tess was getting under his skin—something no other woman had ever done, even those who’d briefly played hard to get with him. He craved spending time with her, and not just in bed. Washing the dinner dishes the other night, something so domesticated, had been enjoyable for the first time in his life, and he was scared to admit that it’d been because of Tess.
He was still out of sorts when she tugged his arm. “C’mon. Let’s head back to the house. While you fix the railing, I’ll run to the store and then make us lunch.” Her expression softened. “If you want to talk more about what happened the other day, we can. I’m a good listener, and what you tell me stays with me. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine too. But my offer stands if you ever need to bend my ear.”
He swallowed hard before cupping her chin and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, Tess. That means a lot to me.”
An hour later, Brian whistled a tune as he packed up his toolbox, the porch railing now secure. Something had shifted inside him out there on the beach with Tess. During the walk back to the house, he was close enough to her that their arms brushed together occasionally. They talked more too—not about theshooting and his PTSD, but general getting-to-know-you things. He now knew her favorite pizza was meat-lovers with mushrooms, her favorite color was teal, and that she’d always wanted to be a doctor while growing up. She told him that when she was little, her mother had to constantly restock a first-aid kit kept in the linen closet because Tess loved using the gauze and bandages to care for her “patients”—in other words, her dolls and stuffed animals. He could totally imagine her doing that instead of having tea parties with them.
He, in turn, told her about things from his youth and his time in the military. He was amazed by how well she listened and asked questions as if she was really interested in his answers. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman he was with hadn’t dominated their conversation. Some even interrupted him with comments that were supposed to top whatever story or memory he was relating, and that drove him nuts.
Then there were the women who were completely incompatible with him in every aspect except for sex. That was why he didn’t do relationships. After a few dates, if they got that far, those women bored him to tears. He couldn’t imagine a lifetime with any of them, much less dating one for more than two or three months. But Tess was different. Not that he saw a long-term future with her, but maybe after they slaked the lust arcing between them, they could remain friends. A few women he’d been with viewed sex and relationships the same as him, and occasionally he would gettogether with one or another to relieve some stress. They’d be gone before he awoke the next morning, and there were never any awkward conversations or expectations between them.
As he placed his toolbox in the bed of his truck, Tess pulled into the driveway. When she climbed out of the car, his heart raced and his cock twitched as he remembered how things got hot and heavy on the beach a short time ago.
She opened the trunk and pulled out several shopping bags, causing him to tamp down his desire and rush over to help her. “Here, let me get those.”
He took the bags from her and then picked up several more from the trunk, leaving a large bundle of toilet paper for her to carry. Following her up the back stairs, he couldn’t stop staring at her delectable ass. The cheeks would overflow in his hands just a bit and were perfectly rounded. A thought of fucking her from behind slammed into his mind, and the resulting bulge in his jeans made it difficult to ascend the last few steps.
In the kitchen, he hefted the last of the grocery bags onto the counter, but his focus wasn’t on the cans and cartons—they could have been bricks for all he cared. Every brush of her hand against his sent a jolt through him, sharp and addictive, and the memory of her lips on the beach was still a live wire in his veins. He’d told himself a hundred times that he didn’t do relationships, that Tess Bingham was the last womanhe should complicate his life with. But standing there, watching her tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear like nothing between them had shifted, he knew he’d cave. He needed more than chance encounters and stolen kisses. He needed her. The hardest part wouldn’t be giving in—it would be finding the strength to let her go afterward.
And wouldn’t his family laugh their asses off if they knew what he was thinking right then?
“Hey, Bing! Did you hear me, dude?”
“Huh?” Andy mentally shook the sexy thoughts he’d been having about Kelle from his mind and stared at Jimmy Merrick, who wore a “Hello, anybody home?” expression. Instead of calling him by his first name, Jimmy decided to use the shortened version of Bingham, and Andy kind of liked it. “Uh, sorry. I spaced out there for a few. What did you say?”
He cocked his head toward the hardware store’s front door. “I asked if you want to go across the street with me to get some pizza at Basil’s. I’m hungry, and Dan just got back from Bonnie’s shop. We get a forty-five-minute lunch.”
It’s lunchtime?
Andy glanced at the analog clock on the wall behind the checkout counter—it was almost one p.m. He’d followed Jimmy around all morning, learningwhat the job entailed. The twenty-year-old had worked for Dan Malone for three years and was a nice enough guy. He was patient with Andy and didn’t seem to mind when he occasionally needed to repeat instructions or remind his trainee what aisle something was in.
“Uh, yeah. I’m starved. Pizza sounds great.”
