Chapter Twenty-Eight
The unwelcome chimes of her ringtone wrenched Tiffany out of sleep and into the dim light of her motel room. She thrust a hand out the covers and grabbed it.
Thomas stirred, his arms and legs sliding between the sheets, hogging most of the bed in the process.
Tiffany stared blearily at the screen. “Hello?”
“It’s Luke.” Typical. Right to the point and no pleasantries. “I can be there in half an hour.”
Shit, shit, shit. Luke on his way over. And her still lying there, naked and smelling of sex, with Thomas. “Okay.” Tiffany named the small restaurant close to their motel.
She tossed the phone onto the nightstand and rolled over, straight into Thomas, awake and watching her with his head propped on one hand. All sleep rumpled, big and contented, with a glimmer in his eyes that said he would be looking for more of the same. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” A kind of dorky squeak came out of her mouth. Ah damn, still drop-dead gorgeous and sexy as hell. “Luke’s on his way.” She gripped the sheet tightly over her breasts. Way, way too late, but better than sitting there naked under the exposure of that raunchy gaze. “He’ll be here in about thirty minutes. I need to get dressed.”
She bolted for the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind her and she locked it. Only then did she release the breath she’d been holding. Oh, my God. She’d had sex with Thomas Hunter. Off-the-charts, hot and steamy sex. All through the afternoon and then the night. She ached, and she’d done things that were probably illegal in Utah. Her reflection blinked back at her. Yup. Incontrovertible evidence starting with bed head and ending in razor burn. Freshly fucked. That’s what she looked like. Now what? Her reflection didn’t answer. She closed the toilet seat and sat on it. Stupid. She needed to get dressed, and she really needed to get Thomas up and dressed and way the hell out of her room.
“Tiffany?” Thomas knocked gently on the door.
“I’m just getting in the shower,” she called, and flipped on the water.
There was a pause and then a careful “Okay. I guess I’ll grab a shower next door.”
“Good idea.” Way too loud. She took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. She was totally panicking. What the hell had she been thinking? Sure he was hot and nice and she felt like she could take on the world with him at her back. Still, having sex with him had not been her best idea.
Ryan. Her skin got suddenly too tight. She couldn’t think about Ryan now. Thomas had rocked her tiny world. Her nipples tightened as a wash of memories flushed over her. The shower water had warmed enough and she hopped beneath the spray. Luke was coming over to discuss Dakota, and Dakota needed her attention now, not Thomas. She’d meant what she said yesterday. If it came to it, he would come home with her and stay in Chicago until his mother got back. Shit, her father wasn’t going to like that, but he’d have to deal because she didn’t see any options. Not with the drugs and whatever else. Forcing herself to breathe, she dipped her head beneath the spray.
Hot water drummed against her scalp and ran in warm rivulets down her back. What did she know about teenagers? A trip to the water park wasn’t going to cut it. Piers expected her back at work in a few days. Maybe Dakota could go along with her. Except there was a lot of sitting around involved, and Dakota would be bored. God, her job bored her most of the time . . . except when Thomas had walked in.
She grabbed the shampoo and lathered up her hair. Daddy had never been a big fan of her job. As far as he was concerned, he paid most of her bills, and one day soon, her husband would take that over.
The shampoo ran over her face and she closed her eyes and rinsed.
It had been one of her father’s greatest disappointments that she wouldn’t run for Miss America. Once he got over that, it became all about finding the right sort of son-in-law.
Tiffany worked the conditioner through to her ends. She had always known she was a Daddy’s girl. Daddy’s princess. Except maybe she was less of Daddy’s princess and more of Daddy’s puppet.
“Everybody has a gift, Princess. In your case, it’s right there for the whole world to enjoy.”
Enough. She rinsed out the conditioner and snapped off the water. She didn’t have time for big reveals right now. Luke was on his way and she had to get ready. The mirror had fogged and she swiped it with her forearm. Her makeup lay spread out on the vanity in front of her. Tiffany stared at it and then stared at her reflection. To hell with it. No war paint this morning, and no hair styling either. YOLO. Yo—fucking—lo. Well . . . maybe some mascara and a bit of lip gloss. Old habits died hard. All right, the five-minute face, but that was it.
“Shit.” She lost years off her life as she opened the bathroom door and found Thomas lounging on the bed. “What the hell?”
“I thought we should talk.” He’d managed to shower and change. His gaze stroked every inch of her skin not covered by the skimpy towel.
Her girly bits fluttered and she clenched her thighs. “Great. I get stuck with the only man in the world who wants to talk.”
“So, last night was something else,” he said.
Tiffany’s traitorous face heated and she dug for some clothes to hide it. The silence twanged like an elastic band between them. “It was great.”
“Look at me, babe.” It wasn’t quite a request. He waited until she looked up. “That’s what I thought, you’re choking on regret this morning.” His smug tone stung.
“Well, it shouldn’t have happened.”
“Because of the asshole?”
He meant Ryan, maybe. Hard to be sure. She was gathering assholes by the boatload lately. “Because of Ryan. Because of Luke. Everything.” She tossed her hands into the air. “My life is incredibly messy right now, and last night made it a whole lot messier.”
He stared at her. Blue eyes, direct and straight up. Damn, the honesty stung. She yanked out her underwear. “I need to get dressed.”
He appeared right in front of her, caught her around the waist, and yanked her into him. Not hard enough to hurt, but forceful enough to get her attention. He kept her there for a moment, thigh to thigh, breast to chest. Every ridge and swell of him pressed through her thin towel. He dipped to kiss her. Evasive maneuver needed, duck to the side. Move. Do something. Instead, she tipped her chin upward and made it easier for him to claim her mouth.
And claim it he did. His kiss branded her, not allowing her to hold back. Who was she kidding anyway? Tiffany clamped her arms around his neck. His kiss ripped right through her, hotter than hell, and she loved it. He swept her along in his kind of magic and left her panting when he stepped back. “Last night wasn’t a mistake. It was an inevitability.”
He turned and sauntered his perfect, geek ass out of the door. The latch snicked shut behind him.
* * *
Tiffany released a relieved breath when Luke pulled up in a battered SUV that looked like it had gone up, down, and all around the mountain a time or two. She’d steeled herself for the Miura, and seeing the beat-up truck was a huge relief.
They met at a nearby breakfast place. Talking Dakota into coming took some work, but at least he’d left the Beats in the motel. Unfortunately, he’d worn more makeup than her, and his hair strayed even lower over his face than normal.
Luke stared at him, a slightly mystified look on his face. “So, Lola’s in South Africa?”
Dakota glared at his fingers, tapping out a complicated drumming rhythm on the tabletop.
“Yes,” she said. Somebody had to get this conversation going.
Luke’s jaw got tight. “And she just left Dakota?”
“Jesus.” Dakota rolled his eyes. “I’m seventeen, not four.”
“I know that, bud.” Luke’s tone got more placating. “But you still can’t be left on your own for weeks.”
“I’m not on my own. I’m with Barbie.”
Tiffany sucked in her breath. They were right back to that.
“Barbie?” Luke raised his eyebrow at her.
“That would be me,” she said.
Luke laughed softly under his breath.
Dakota glanced up, a smug little smile across his mouth.
“Seriously?” Thomas said from beside her, across from Luke and Dakota.
“Dakota would rather stay with you,” Tiffany said.
“You would?” Luke looked at his brother.
An uneasy prickle crept up Tiffany’s spine. She knew that expression on Luke’s face, all too well. The kind that said Luke was about ready to wriggle his way out of this situation.
Luke shifted in his seat.
The waitress saved him by arriving with their order.
“You may as well know, there’s some trouble with school.” She brought the conversation right back on track.
“It’s bullshit.” Dakota’s fingers drummed faster. He had to stop for the waitress to put his plate down.
“What sort of trouble?” Luke kept it casual, but tension tightened around his jaw.
“They say I’m dealing at the school,” Dakota said.
Tiffany stiffened and held her breath. This was so not good. Talk about whipping the lid off a whole can of ugly.
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Are you?”
“It’s bullshit.” Dakota shrugged and turned his attention to his loaded plate.
“He’s on summer break until August,” she said.
Luke looked at her and then Thomas. He slid a quick glance at Dakota. “That’s cool.”
“I could stay here until I have to go back to school.” Dakota glanced at Luke.
Shit, it was painful to watch. Dakota had a good game face, but the longing was there all the same.
Luke kept his stare fixed on his plate.
Tiffany pressed her knee against Thomas’s. He was there, a solid pressure.
“Bud, that’s great.” Luke got a kiss-ass smile all over his face. Here it came. Just this once she wanted to be wrong about Luke. “But my life here is complicated. I work all the time, and when I’m not working, I’m riding. I’m in training for this two-week ride across Moab. Unsupported.” Luke paused as if they should all remark on the fact.
Tiffany had a few choice remarks for him. Beginning with a bitch slap across his head.
Dakota shoveled eggs into his mouth.
“You’re saying Dakota can’t stay with you?” Thomas broke the silence.
“Normally, I’d love to have the little dude with me, but now is not a good time. We would have no time together. He would end up just sitting around the house.”
“I’m not a little dude,” Dakota said.
“No, you’re not.” Luke rushed the words out. “But you have to see that I can’t spend time with you right now.”
“Sure.” Dakota went back to shoveling.
“I don’t see that.” Tiffany laid her knife and fork neatly side by side on her plate. What she did see was Luke running for cover. “All I see is you making this somebody else’s responsibility. Your brother needs you, and the best you can manage is that you’re training for a ride?”
“I’ve been training for over a year,” Luke said. The miserable, whining coward wouldn’t even meet her eyes. “As soon as this is over, dude, I’ll call you and you can come and stay with me. How about Christmas? There’s no riding in the winter. We could go snowboarding and shit. It’ll be cool.”
“How about you stop being such a selfish dick?” This from Thomas.
“What the fuck has this got to do with you anyway?” Luke flushed and dropped his fork. “What are you, like screwing my ex-wife and now you think that gives you the balls to get up and in her shit?”
Thomas went so still it was creepy. The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up.
“It’s fine.” Tiffany rushed into the mounting anger. They had enough crap on their plates without adding a fight with Luke to the mix. “Dakota can stay in Chicago with me. The company will be nice.”
“Hey, Chi Town.” Luke bumped shoulders with his brother. “Parties, hot chicks, all on your doorstep. That’s gotta beat hanging around my house, watching the trees grow.”
“It’s not—”
“It’s cool,” Dakota said before Tiffany could finish. His gaze met hers over the table.
They finished breakfast in a tight silence. Tiffany only managed a few bites of her pancakes. She looked at them mournfully as the waitress took her plate away. Her one total food rebellion and she couldn’t eat.
Luke didn’t hang around. With the look on Thomas’s face, she might have made a run for it, too.
“You got Luke’s number?” Thomas asked her as Dakota said good-bye to his brother.
“Yes.”
“Give it to me,” Thomas said.
“Why?”
“I want to tell your ex a few things, explain them to him in a way he’ll understand and I don’t think Dakota needs to hear it.”
* * *
Thomas had been longer getting back to Tiffany and Dakota than he would have liked. His conversation with Luke still had his blood spitting like hot fat. Jesus, this kid was in trouble, and nobody who should be taking notice was taking notice. “Hey.”
Dakota glanced up as he entered the room.
Luke stuck with the party line that this was not his problem. He was also still resisting giving the survey results back. Thomas didn’t want to get the cops involved, but Luke had stolen from him and he needed that information. The Zambian meeting was a couple of days away, and his calls from his partners were getting slightly more desperate. He was all out of reassurances.
Dakota flipped through channels.
Thomas sat on the opposite bed. “Can I ask you something?”
“Can I stop you?”
It was what Tiffany would have said, and it almost made him smile. Christ, he didn’t know what he was going to do about that, either. In a day or two, she would be back in Chicago and he would be out of reasons to hang around. He pushed Tiffany into a different mental compartment and forced the door shut. “Why the dealing?”
Dakota looked up at him and went a bit red around the jawline. He turned the volume up on the TV.
Thomas grabbed the remote and snapped the TV off. “From what you say, money is not the problem.”
“I told you that was bullshit.” Dakota’s voice rose.
Yeah, kid, yell all you like, but we both know you’re lying.
“What the fuck is it with you, anyway? I tell you something and you automatically believe I’m lying.”
Hot, impotent rage took Thomas’s words away. His hands were tied here. He barely even knew the kid. He was in no position to do anything about the fuckup Dakota made of his life. Luke was. Except Luke had decided to bury his head in the sand. Fuck. He had to get out of the room before he started hitting walls.
A man didn’t walk away from his responsibilities, his father and his older brother had taught him that. Except . . . hadn’t he been kind of doing exactly the same thing? Luke had flung the statement at him during their angry call. The challenge had gone unanswered because it had stopped Thomas cold.
Richard as the oldest had stepped up when their father died. He and Josh had let him, happy to do what they wanted knowing Richard had their backs. Thomas got to travel the world, do projects in places most people had never even heard of, while Richard stayed in Willow Park and kept an eye on their mother. Richard had dealt with their father’s estate. Still dealt with it, for all Thomas knew.
That thought bugged him most of all, because he didn’t know the answer. Hadn’t even asked the question. He found himself standing outside Tiffany’s door before the conscious thought had even risen to the surface of his brain.
“Hey,” she greeted him as she opened the door. “Did you talk to Luke?”
“I spoke to him.” He brushed past, the need to be near her pushing him deeper into the room.
Tiffany followed. “He’s not going to do anything, is he?” She looked at him as if she expected him to come up with some reason for being there. He had nothing, other than the burn to be with her. “So,” she said. “I’ll take Dakota back to Chicago with me. Lola will get back at some point.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said.
“Yes, I do.”
Tiffany wasn’t going to dump the kid. From the start, and despite what crap the little shit handed out, Tiffany had Dakota’s back. For all his strutting around feeling like the man in charge, whose back did Thomas Hunter have, other than his own?
“When do you want to leave?”
Her question pissed him off so badly, he saw red for a moment. Leave. Go home.
“I have to get my survey results.” He sucked in his breath and made himself get a grip. “That’s the only reason I’m still hanging around.”
She paled and dropped her eyes. Shit, that had been a dick thing to say. And nowhere near the truth. “That’s crap,” he said. “It’s the reason I started this, but not the only reason I’m here. I’ll try Luke again a bit later. Who knows, he might decide to man up. Otherwise I’m going to have to get the cops on it. I can’t leave here without those results.”
“Okay,” she said. “We can wait a day or two more.”
“And then what?” The question came out of nowhere and surprised the hell out of him as it hit the air between them.
She looked up, her beautiful face guarded. “What do you mean?” She knew what he meant, because she had one of those faces that was painfully easy to read. He waited her out. “I go home.” She shrugged. “I go home and pick up my life. What else?”
“What about your book?” he asked. “What about all that?”
Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “What about it?”
The anger rushed back. He jammed his fists into his pockets to keep from shaking her. “You have this incredible brain and you’re just going to go back to writing it all out in secret again. What the hell is the point of that?”
“What else would I do with it?” She was getting defensive, but he couldn’t back off on this.
“The waste of a brain is a tragedy,” he said. “You can’t keep pretending that you don’t have one. I know you do.”
“And what would I do with my so-called brain?” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her breasts swelled under the fabric of her tank.
Keep your eyes on her face, you horny prick. “You could do anything. Anything you wanted.”
She made a rude noise and turned her back on him. “That’s easy for you to say. You have a college degree behind you.”
“I have two,” he said. “But you could get as many as you wanted.”
Her shoulders tensed and she ducked her head. And up came her barriers.
“Fuck it, Tiffany.” He took a step closer and turned her to look at him. If he did nothing else, he had to make her see this. He couldn’t leave her, go back to Zambia and let her marry the asshole and disappear again behind that brittle shell she’d built around herself. “You want to learn. Do something with that. It’s a rare and precious gift, and you’re jamming it behind your beautiful face and pretending to yourself and the world it doesn’t exist.”
“You don’t understand.” Her voice rose close to an outright yell.
“You’re right. I don’t get it.” He waved his hand from her feet to the top of her head. “You think that all you are is this, but you’re so much more than that. You fixed Luke’s car because it was the right thing to do. Your life was running off track, so you jumped right in and put it right.” How did she not get this about herself? She let her father and that dickhead, Ryan, convince her she was worth shit. “You didn’t want to do all of this and see Luke again, but you did. Dakota is in such deep shit, it would take a backhoe to dig him out, and you’re in that hole with him. He takes your head off, but you stick with him. On your own, you work out shit that takes the rest of us years of study to get a handle on. How can you not see that?”
* * *
Tiffany stared at him. The words made sense to her, and yet her gut tossed them out as ridiculous. She’d created all of this mess. It would be the height of hypocrisy to turn around and take credit for the way she’d handled it. As for the stuff about her brain, she didn’t believe any of it. She had to stop him from talking. She did the only thing that came to mind and mashed her mouth against his.
His arms came around her like manacles. He took charge of the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth and demanding her response. It was crazy how quickly he could make her want him. And she did want him. She knew she shouldn’t and couldn’t, but the taste and feel of him were imprinted on her.
“I was planning to marry Ryan.” She yanked her mouth away from his.
“Why?” His expression got even stormier. “You keep saying you’re going to marry this guy, that you have to marry this guy. Why, Tiffany? Do you even want to marry him?”
He shifted closer. His chest brushed against her nipples. The heat in his gaze turned her knees to spaghetti. One hand drifted down the column of her neck to grasp the back of her head. Heat oozed over her skin, tightening her nipples and moving lower. She pressed her thighs together. It didn’t help.
He wanted her. She could see it in his face. And, dammit, she wanted the same thing.
“You’re sure you want to marry this guy?”
She opened her mouth to say yes. He looked at her and the words wouldn’t come. “No, but I must.” Her voice grew hoarse. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Not the same thing,” he said.
“It has to be.”
“Why?”
There was no answer to that.
“And yet, here you are with me,” he said.
“No.” Her eyelids got too heavy to stay open. She tried to force her gaze away from his mouth as it came closer.
“No?” Thomas’s breath caressed her face. His fingers stroked her nape. His other hand dropped lightly to her hip. It stayed there, branding her through her jeans.
She’d pictured her future with Ryan a thousand times. It would be everything she wanted, but it wouldn’t be this. This thing she had with Thomas—compelling, hypnotic, hot as hell and dangerous to touch. Like Luke. Except not like Luke at all. With Thomas she was more herself than she was with anyone. She didn’t need to pretend or be something he wanted her to be. He looked right at her, saw her for what she was, and still here he stayed. “Please?”
“Please what?” His fingers tightened on her hip. “Please let me go, Thomas, or please fuck me, Thomas?”
His coarse words combusted inside her. Her hand twisted into his T-shirt and hauled him closer. “Fuck me. Please.”
Their mouths slammed together in a tangle of tongues, teeth, and lips.
She ached for this. Tiffany grabbed his head and speared her fingers into his hair. The taste and smell of him surrounded her. God, she needed more. The all of him kind of more.
Her back hit the wall.
His hands cupped her ass and brought their crotches into alignment. Heat seared through the connection. Tiffany wrapped her legs around his hips and ground down. A rip of fabric, the ping of buttons, and his hands were on the bare skin of her waist. Her bra disappeared and his hands latched on her breasts.
Plumping them up, he dipped his mouth and sucked her nipple.
Damn, too good. Tiffany pushed her head back against the wall. She lost the connection with his mouth as she hauled off his T-shirt. Then it was back again and she moaned. Sensation shot straight from her nipple to her core. And just like that she was wet and hot and ready for him again. Her skin was hypersensitized. It was almost too much and not nearly enough. She wriggled free.
He let her slide down the wall. His mouth suckled first one breast and then the other.
She needed him inside her. Now. Tiffany reached between them and grabbed the buttons to his jeans. With shaking hands she got them loose. Finally, she cupped his cock in her hand. It jerked under her touch. Tiffany fisted him and stroked.
Thomas growled and reared back to kick off his pants. He pushed her pants roughly down her legs with her panties and lifted her again.
Bare skin slid against bare skin as she wrapped herself around him. His cock was right against her wet slit, silently demanding entry. Thomas braced her back against the wall. He guided himself inside her, slamming all the way home. The wall rattled as he thrust.
Somewhere, something crashed onto the ground. Tiffany didn’t care as she bore down on him.
His breathing rasped in her ear. Harsh catches as he thrust into her again and again.
She clung to his shoulders, using him and the wall to create counterpressure against his upward motion, rubbing herself against him. She came with a shout.
He was right with her, slamming hard into her as he spilled.
Their breathing mingled, panting, as they stayed where they were, her back pressed against the wall, him leaning into her as he recovered.
“Shit,” he whispered right beside her ear.
Tiffany released her legs from his waist.
He lowered her to the ground, still holding her tightly against him. Her legs wouldn’t hold her and she let him support her weight.
“Damn,” he said. “That was hot.” His hand spread over her ass to hold her tight against the cradle of his thighs. “Baby?” His breath stirred wisps of her hair. “We didn’t use a condom.”
Tiffany’s eyes whipped open. She never had unprotected sex. Protection had not even occurred to her. She wanted to stay there, wrapped around him like that forever. “I’m on the pill.”
“I’m clean.” He feathered a light kiss on her temple. “They test me before I go on assignment.”
“And I’m clean.”
“So, no harm done, then?”
“No harm.” Except she’d abandoned one of the most ingrained habits of her adult life. And she was having earth-shattering sex with the wrong man.
A phone rang. Thomas let her go to reach for it. “It’s Luke,” he said before he answered the call. “Yeah?”
She slipped into the bathroom to clean up. A brief glance in the mirror told her she had that look again. The one that screamed she had just got it and got it good. She closed her eyes. She had to stop doing this.
Thomas ended the call when she slipped back into her room.
“Babe.” He looked at her. “We have to settle this, but not now. Luke is on his way.”
“Luke?” That gave her enough distraction not to have to deal with what was going on between them. “What does he want?”
“He says he’s been thinking,” Thomas said. “He wants to talk to me alone first.”
* * *
Thomas went next door to clean up. A human-shaped lump in the second bed meant Dakota was sleeping. Poor kid. This shit was a lot to handle.
With shaking hands, he splashed water on his face. He had no idea what had just happened with him and Tiffany. Never in his adult life had he lost control with a woman like that.
She’d said she would go home after this was all done, and he’d flipped. Lost it. Home meant without him. It shouldn’t have mattered, because that’s how he rolled. Moved out and on, off to the next assignment. Out of sight and out of mind. He washed and slipped into a clean pair of jeans.
He loved his life on site. Stuck in the African bush, living out of a huge military-grade tent and a few trailers. Communication with the world limited to the sat phone. An ice-cold beer at the end of the blisteringly hot day out of the huge generator-powered fridge. Sitting back in his camp chair watching the incredible pyrotechnics of the African sun sinking below the horizon, catching the dust raised by animals as it went.
In three weeks, that would be his life again. Except now it felt empty as hell without a black-haired, green-eyed math geek in it. Sometimes those sunsets made him feel like the only man in the world. For the first time ever, it felt lonely. His mother not there to get on him about something or other. No Richard or Josh. His brothers were settling down, finding women who made them happy, having kids. And no Tiffany.
Just one man, sitting at the edge of civilization watching the day end.