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Stirring Attraction(35)

By:Sara Jane Stone


“You didn’t think to ask Lily first?” Dominic said.

Noah glanced up at her. “Sorry, Lil. Josie thought it would help.”

“And what? She has you by the balls? You can’t make your own call?” Dominic demanded.

Noah raised his eyebrows. “You want to talk about your little sister’s relationship with my balls?”

“I don’t think that conversation would end well,” Dominic said as Ted started to open his eyes.

“Maybe if you’d come back sooner,” Noah said, “you’d be use to the idea by now.”

“Doubt that.” Dominic stood. “I’m going to finish cleaning up in the back and leave Sleeping Beauty in your capable hands.” He turned to her. “Your friend Ted could probably use a glass of fruit juice. The sugar will help when he comes to.”

She nodded.

“Let me know if you need anything else, Lily.”

“Thank you,” she called after him. But he was already walking away. “I’ll give you a proper thank you later,” she added, reaching for a pint glass and the orange juice.

“Not in my bar you won’t,” Noah said as he drew Ted up and guided him into a chair. “I don’t think this place could sustain the damage.”





Chapter Eleven


“I KNOW WHAT you’re doing,” Lily said as she raised her mug to her lips.

Fresh coffee first thing in the morning was one of the perks of having a caffeine junkie awake on the couch all night. But after living for two days with the memory of the way he’d touched her, she’d debated taking the coffeepot hostage in an attempt to catch him asleep. Then she could join him on the couch and wake him with a kiss that might lead to more. More kissing. More touching.

He’d always touched her with an intensity that bordered on rough. He made demands of her body as if he’d mapped out his moves beforehand. But at some point, his control would slip. It wouldn’t make room for hers. Instead, the fierce need to reach the climax would overtake them—­and take out everything that stood in the way.

She smiled as she lowered the mug. Maybe they’d even manage to break the furniture.

“What?” he called down.

“I said I know what you’re doing.”

Dominic raised his hand to block the morning sun as he gazed down at her from the top of the ladder. “Installing floodlights behind your house?”

“You’re trying to earn a superspecial oral surprise.”

He set the bulb on the top rung and started down the ladder.

“Or maybe sex in your new favorite position. Something wild and kinky you learned while you were away,” she continued.

He reached the bottom rung and stepped down, turning to face her. “I must have been deployed the day the rangers offered the ‘kinky’ sex class.”

She raised her mug to her lips, but didn’t drink. Instead, she ran her tongue over the rim and waited for his gaze to head south. One . . . two . . . three . . . And his green eyes honed in on her mouth.

If she closed the space between them and pressed up against him, she’d bet that she would receive a long, hard welcome. And it would have nothing to do with her floodlights.

But then he would turn around and walk away mumbling something about bad ideas and bodyguards.

Leaving me wet and ready for sex is a bad idea! It was right up there on her list of Horrible Ideas, next to not coming home after he’d healed, after he’d promised . . .

She’d wanted to hurl the words at him, one after the other. But she also knew he was right. He would leave again. And while she might see that as a reason to fool around without risk, maybe touching her in the Big Buck’s bathroom was all he could take. Or his warped sense of duty was getting in the way again. He’d given his all to the army and now he’d do the same to his position as her bodyguard.

Regardless of his reason for keeping his distance, her desire had reached a fever pitch twenty-­four hours after the encounter in the Big Buck’s bathroom. But Dominic seemed determined to focus on her safety. He’d sent her off to bed when they got back from the bar each night, promising to keep watch while he followed up on leads. She didn’t want to distract him from finding the guy who’d attacked her in the park. But her desire to get into his pants, to explore what was once upon a time very familiar territory tore holes in her need for an answer.

She already felt safe and secure. She had him. Maybe not for long, but that was part of the reason it would be so simple to get naked with him. She could strip off her long-­sleeve shirts without worrying about her injuries. He had them too. And they could determine whether the coffee table could hold them . . .