She felt warm against him. His first aid box was as suspected, in haphazard disarray. It felt good to be so close to a female’s body, a body he was familiar with. He saw her swallow, heard the soft gulp sound, took in her cheekbones and the heart-shaped roundness of her face.
She bit down on that plush lower lip, her eyes naturally hooded. “Say it. You think it’s childish.”
“You said it, not me.” Was that another upward tug of his lips?
“Look closer.” He narrowed his gaze at her request. “They’re lizard scales. I run a kids’ program through the local university each summer to teach kids about paleontology and fossils. I’d do it full time if I could. Last year I built a Cenozoic fluvial pit for the kids to excavate and hauled it in from my home in Marfa, so I had shells painted on my nails. This year, it’s all about Tex the T. rex”—the tank top she’d been wearing last night, it hit him—“and there’s some interesting research out there right now that might get published in Science or Nature, that tyrannosauruses had scales, so,” she shrugged, “scales it is. Kids always get a kick out it and I like seeing their faces light up.” Her face was lit up right now. Did she have kids, too? “They’re so honest, you know? Their amusement means something.”
Smiling, she looked toward the window over the sink. He followed her gaze. It landed on the clay sponge tray Stevie had attempted to throw in art class, painted in a chaotic mix of glazes.
“You should bring your kids,” she added, whipping back to him. “It’s next week. If they’ll be back by then.”
“You have kids, too? That scar from a C-section?” Just the thought of her being a mother did something to him he couldn’t explain. Made him want to open an inch.
Except her face shuttered. The brightness vanished. Shit. He’d said something wrong. He watched the transformation happen in rapid speed, as the shuttered shock morphed into that sly, pretty grin and her amber eyes gazed seductively at him.
He held her chin with the pad of his finger. On the surface, there’d been a trivialness to her that seemed fun and easy. But it wasn’t. It was all a well-designed package. And the way she’d pivoted when he’d asked her if she had kids spoke of him cutting a hole in the package, trying to expose what was wrapped within.
She caught his finger on her lips, placing a kiss to it. Memories of her doing just that last night swarmed his thoughts. The way those take-me eyes fluttered up to him and searched his gaze seemed so compelling, all he wanted to do was lay her back and unhook his buckle and unite their bodies again. There was more to Heather Carvalho than cute dancing, bumper stickers, and enthusiasm, and dammit, his kids weren’t here. For this rare sliver of time, he was just a guy with a pretty woman, barefoot, on his kitchen counter. In his home, where she didn’t belong. His body had been demanding round two with her ever since he’d completed round one. The way her breath kept hitching, the way her irises shimmered and scent intoxicated him, infused him with a need to determine what that shimmer meant.
He’d never brought a woman home, but now that she was here, he wondered…reached behind her and dragged her hairband loose from her tresses so he could loop a wave around his finger, inspecting it but really, lost in thought. She might be here for reasons he hated, but he liked the thought of her being here for the week, before she moved on and his kids came home and life went back to normal. She could do her job. He could keep doing his. He could still keep a bubble around Seth and Stevie. Still keep them from getting hurt. With Seth going through so much and Tyler ready to pull his hair out half the time, the last thing any of them needed was a fair-weather woman hanging around, no matter how cool they’d think Heather was. Rule number one was only broken if his kids were here, which they weren’t.
He continued twining her glossy hair around his index finger, letting it slide loose.
Had she stretched her neck up a degree? Was he leaning down? Just a little?
“Maybe I need to kiss you for helpin’ me.” The gruff words were out of his mouth before he could lasso them as his arms slipped behind her, grabbing her rear, and dragging her right to the edge with a firm thrust so that her body was flush with his bare chest and her core flush with the front of his jeans.
She gasped, but there was no ignoring the way she jutted her chin up as if meeting his challenge. He’d sensed she was still into him and when her hands settled upon his waist, fingertips pressing into his bare flesh and making him wish she was clinging to him and crying out in his ear while he rode himself hard upon her, the friction spun into undeniable heat. A perfect storm.
“What are you waiting for?” she whispered.
Their noses were skimming each other’s. Her breath warm upon his lips. More peppermint. He brushed the tip of his nose along her cheekbone, relishing the exhale against his skin that said she was willing, settling upon her lobe for a soft dusting of a kiss—
“Heather Carvalho,” he murmured gruffly.
“Call me Heart, Ty.”
Can’t. Won’t.Tie-Dye was perfect. Fun without being personal. Personal nicknames meant attachments. Attachments meant affection. Affection meant heartache. Heart. He didn’t want any more heartache like he’d had with Isabella. It went hand in hand with betrayal. Just wanted to sate his lust.
He pinched her earlobe between his teeth and felt her jump, felt her lean into him and tighten her hold. He soothed the bite with his tongue. “I feel like racking up another conflict of interest, Tie-Dye—”
Her lips beside his cheek turned into his mouth, shutting him up. His fingers raked along her face, into her hair, and he sank his tongue between her lips. No foreplay, just going for gold right out of the gate. Why shy from what they both wanted? He didn’t need a woman and the emotions that came with them complicating things. But he needed this. Needed this chance to let go, just for a moment, with someone who’d let go with him. Needed to work this woman blown in on a storm, out of his system.
She moaned into his mouth. He swallowed it down. Seeking, searching, tongue delving between her lips and cock nudged between her legs, kicking at his jeans for freedom, sifting his fingers through her tresses that fell in a messy mahogany curtain he wanted to bury his face in to breathe in her scent, dragged at her sunflowers, stretching the weak shoulder straps.
More peppermint on his tongue. He groaned. He’d not savored it last night in his frenzy to get off. Her nails dug into him, sliding over his shoulders and biting into his freshly doctored back as she arched into his body. His hands roved down her face, neck, chest, over her nipples, dragging up her blouse so he could hold her flat tummy skin to skin, his calluses raking over that scar she’d deflected him from that he was more and more concerned to know about.
He gripped that hair he was falling in lust with, leaned her backward—
“What the hell, man, you gonna answer your phone at all today? I mean—shit.” The kitchen door thumped open on a thrust from the back deck.
Tyler yanked back. Heather bolted upright, lurching forward at the abruptness of his separation, as if chasing a sweet aftertaste, but smoothed her blouse down. He pulled her off the counter and behind his back to shield her from the intrusion so she could put herself together. His pulse raced. His heart was knocking. Effing Thaddeus.
His foreman and cousin stood in the doorway, blue eyes as wide as full moons, mouth hanging open like a busted hinge.
“It’s your girl from last night… You sly bastard, you never get a girl’s number, but you got hers?”
Tyler growled at his cousin’s remark. Growled at the grin on Thad’s face. “Man I—Out.”