Bargaining with the Bride(30)

"How much do you like this shirt?"

She pulled back for a moment, eying him with a playful expression. Her lips glistened, redder and more inviting than they'd even been before.

"Not enough to say no."

She leaned back, and with one satisfying rip, the tank was mere shreds in his hand. Her full, firm breasts perfectly displayed before him.

But staring at the scraps of fabric, he realized a few things.

First, ripping a shirt was harder than it had seemed in his fantasies.

Second, he did not at all care what his employee handbook had to say.

Third, and most importantly, her body was more perfect than he could ever have imagined.



* * *



The counter was cold, and so was the kitchen. Or, at least, that's what logic told her. In the heat of the moment, though, her body knew no sensation other than hot, burning lust. Fire licked at every nerve in her body, and her need had risen so much that it was nearly impossible to breathe. She knew nothing, nothing at all, except that Garret was there, the remnants of what had once been her favorite tank top in his hands, and she wanted to be taken hard and fast by the sexiest guy she'd ever known.

She didn't bother to ask before she yanked his shirt from over head, pressing her chest against his so that their bodies were completely flush with each other. It all felt strangely…right.

As his fingers worked the straps of her bra, she traced the length of his neck with her tongue. She smiled against his skin, enjoying the steady pick up for his heartbeat as it thrummed beneath her lips.

So close, so perfect…

And then it all went to shit.





9





At first, he didn't realize what happened. All he knew was that his mouth had been on Rachael at last, taking in her sweet, pale skin...

And then the entire world exploded into sound and chaos.

Rachael leapt from the counter, forcing him to clamp down on his own tongue as she sprinted for the opposite side of the room. He turned to call to her and ask what the hell had come over her, when he finally registered the sounds of Tesla's panicked yells. The tiny pug was crooning and racing for the front door like his long lost herd had rediscovered him at last.

"What the—" He started, but cut himself off when one finally sound carried through the spacious kitchen, vacant and definitely audible.

The chime of the front door opening.

He grabbed his shirt from where it pooled at his feet and stared around for Rachael again. Apparently, she'd heard the bell too, because she'd shoved herself in her tiny pantry and was in the process of closing the door from the inside when he finally spotted her.

"Did you invite someone?" He whispered.

"No—"

"You'd think after so many episodes of dateline you wouldn't hide your key under the mat. Seriously, that's serial killer 101." A voice, not unlike Rachael's sultry tones, called from the foyer, growing louder as the sentence went on.

"Shit. My sister. Distract her so I can get upstairs," Rachael hisse, and then creaked the door closed just as the voice rounded the corner into the room.

"Isn't anyone ho—well, hello there." The woman offered Garret a wide smile and jutted her hip out so as to lean against the wall.

If he didn't know for a fact that this was Rachael's sister, he might never have believed it. Sure, they had the same sort of heart-shaped face, but that was where the comparison stopped. Where Rachael was thin and angular, her sister was all curves. Where Rachael's hair was richly dark and curly, her sister partially obscured her stick-straight dark locks with caramel highlight. They were opposites in every way, including the easy smile that rested lazily on the woman's face.

"Nice to meet you," Garret said as he crossed the room with an outstretched arm. "You must be Rachael's sister."

"Eliza, the one and only." She took his hand in a surprisingly firm grip, and then used the hold to pull him into a hug. "You're the man in my big sister's life?"

"That I am." He cleared his throat, trying to figure out the best way to clear a path for Rachael. He couldn't hear her, but he felt as though her frustration weighed down the air around him. If they stayed in the kitchen another second longer, he was sure Eliza's spidey senses would tingle or something and she's find her half-naked sister in the closet.

"Were these changes yours?" She gestured around to the kitchen. "Last time I was here the place was a—" she paused, then crouched down to the floor and came up with the tatters of her sister's shirt, a half-smile still perched on her face.

"That's Tesla's work." Garret nodded toward the pug, who had apparently had enough excitement for one day and was already working on his evening nap beneath the table.