The night was hot and dark and so was Cooper’s mood.
It was past ten when he heard the chirpy little knock on his door, and he knew who was on the other side. He considered ignoring her, but then she’d guess she’d gotten to him. So he strolled to the door and pulled it open, then propped one shoulder casually against the jamb.
His body blocking the entry.
Angel’s eyes widened. “Uh, hi.”
She might be wearing some silky little wraparound number in pale yellow, but all day long he’d pictured her in black leather and carrying a whip.
“You took off so early this morning, I thought you might have left Tranquility for good,” he drawled. That idea had been the first to lash at him.
“You could have checked. All my things were in my cottage.”
He jerked a shoulder, because he had checked and it still hadn’t cooled his temper. “Then I wondered”—all day long, hour by hour, minute by minute—“when you were coming back.”
Her gaze slid away from his. “I, uh, had a few things to do in San Luis Obispo. It’s a long drive.”
“You returned a couple hours ago.” That’s when the torture had really started. He’d promised himself to wait her out, and she’d made him wait, all right. “I could sue you for breach of promise, by the way. You said night. It’s been night for quite a while.”
“‘Breach of promise.’” She shook her head. “It’s that kind of stuff that gives lawyers a bad name, you know.”
“You said night.” He shrugged, then shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s night.”
She rolled her eyes. “And I’m here, aren’t I? So are you going to invite me in or not?”
Or not was sounding pretty damned good. She’d had him in knots for the last twenty-four hours. But, of course, she was the only way to unravel them too. “Not if you’re reluctant,” he said through his teeth.
“Of course I’m reluctant, you idiot!” Rolling her eyes again, she placed both hands on his chest and pushed him out of the way. “Right now this is starting to feel clumsy and calculated and…” Her voice drifted away as she stomped past him and took in the sight of his living room.
“And pretty,” she finally said.
“I’m not a complete idiot.” He shut the door and turned to her. “I had dinner reservations for us at the Crosscreek Hotel. We missed them.”
She was still looking about. The retreat had a decent stockpile of candles in case of power outages during winter storms. He’d placed them strategically around the living room, and even more strategically—sparingly—in the bedroom. Their flickering flames made the darkness appear to pulse around them.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about dinner.” Her earlier exasperation fell away and she sent him a sweet, almost shy glance. Then she walked toward the side table beside the couch, where he had a pail of ice chilling a bottle of wine. “It’s all so very pretty.”
She sent him another little glance, and her fingertip idly trailed down the neck of the wine bottle. Watching that slow, sliding finger, his mood changed too. With her here, close enough to touch, his annoyance and impatience evaporated, leaving only desire behind.
Clearing his throat, he took a step toward her. “May I pour you a glass?”
“That would be nice.” Her voice was soft now, and in the shadowy room, she looked like another yellow candle flame. More light against the darkness.
The wineglass was Beth’s, and he filled it to the brim. When he handed it to Angel, he thought her fingers trembled.
She stared down at the wine as if it fascinated her. “Thank you. The candles are a very nice touch.”
Taking a deep, calming breath, he picked up his bottle of Perrier and tapped it against her glass. “It’s too hot for lights.”
She sipped at the wine, her free hand once again idly cruising the neck of the sweating bottle. “Yeah, well,” she said, giving a small shrug. “It’s been a hot couple of weeks.”
“Yeah.” He watched, mesmerized, as one of her fingers dipped into the ice bucket’s slushy water.
She drew it out of the pail to stroke it slowly down the side of her neck. From beneath her lashes, she glanced at him. “Very, very, hot.”
Lust squeezed his throat. “Fire danger.”
“Hmm?” Her finger returned to the icy water.
“This much unrelenting heat”—he paused to down a swallow of his Perrier—“means there’s danger of fire.”
She let a long beat go by, then she flicked him another look from her tangle of lashes. “You should take your shirt off, then.”
Despite his recent drink, his mouth went dry. “Huh?”
“We wouldn’t want you to burn.” Then she opened her eyes wide, all sexy innocence. “Oh. You mean there’s danger of fire outside.”
“Hear you roar,” he murmured, shaking his head at the playful turn she’d suddenly taken on him. “Full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?”
A smile twitched the corners of her mouth and she lifted her glass again. “Now that I see you went to so much trouble, the candles, the wine, maybe I’ll let them all out.”
He could hardly breathe. “I gather you’re warming up too.”
She set her wineglass aside to toy with the bow that tied her dress at the side of her waist. “Maybe I should take something off.”
His gaze shot to her face, then back to the bow again. One tug, he guessed, and that little slip-of-nothing she was wearing would fall free.
His pulse leaped and he abruptly dropped to the couch so that he wouldn’t grab, pull, take. “We’re not in any hurry.” He’d promised her something special, not something hasty. “Come sit down.”
She sat beside him, but then immediately leaned closer, her hands going for the buttons on his shirt.
He drew back. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I like your body,” she said. “I want to see it.”
“No, no, no.” He caught her hands, pushed them away. “Drink your wine. Take a few minutes.”
At the speed things were moving, he was afraid it was going to have to count as foreplay, this first time tonight.
She angled her head. “Are you worried again?”
“About this triggering a heart attack? No.” About performing with any finesse, yes. He reached around her to grab her wineglass, then shoved it in her hand. “Here, keep busy.”
Her laugh was soft. “You are worried. You shouldn’t be. I’ll take care of you.”
Something about that last sentence didn’t sit well with him.
He stroked the back of his hand down her face. “You won’t be left out, I promise you.”
At that, her gaze slid away from his. “Well, uh, listen. Let me tell you my plan.”
“Your plan.” He ran his thumb along the soft line of her cheek.
“My plan for sex.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Weren’t you the one who was just complaining about how ‘calculated’ this felt? Why don’t we play it by ear?”
“Here’s what I think.” She still wasn’t looking at him as she took a gulp of her wine. “I think we should do it quick.”
His hand stilled. “What?”
She edged away, backing off from his touch. “Well, see, I was thinking about this on the drive. The way I see it, this is a hurdle for you. You know, this first time since your surgery. And I’m sure you’re a little nervous about it, despite what you say. So we should just, um, do it quick and get it over with.”
“It was a long trip,” he murmured.
“You’ll feel much better afterward,” she said earnestly.
“If we do it quick and get it over with.”
“Right.” Her head bobbed up and down in an emphatic, nervous nod. “Then I can go back to my cottage and finish my packing.”
He stared at her for a minute. Then he flopped against the sofa cushions and groaned. “Who the hell is spreading rumors about me in San Francisco?”
“What? I—”
“Natasha. It has to be Natasha Campbell. She’s been out for revenge for years, ever since I told her I don’t date—much less bed—engaged women. Man, I never thought she’d be so vicious as to malign my sexual reputation.”
“I haven’t heard any rumors about…about that. I mean, I heard you played hard, but not that you, uh…”
“Don’t play fair?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never heard anything like that.”
“So then why all this let’s-get-it-over-with-so-I-can-go-back-to-packing?” Didn’t she think he could keep her busy all night long?
She huffed at him. “Because I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I told you it would be one time.”
“What?” He sat up. “One night, baby. You promised me one night.”
Her hand waved. “One time, one night. What’s the difference?”
This wasn’t going right. He took some deep breaths, trying to get that vision of her dressed in black leather out of his head. But she was torturing him again! It wasn’t as if he wanted to make grand promises that he couldn’t keep, but hell, he had grand intentions. Intentions that he at least wanted to attempt.
Most of all, he realized, he wanted her to spend the night, the whole night, in his bed.
“One time won’t be enough for me,” he finally ground out. He took another deep breath and forced himself to relax. “And what about you? We’re gonna be good together, you know that. You know how things heat up between us. Spend the night with me and we’ll both greet the dawn wearing smiles.”
“That’s a lot of pressure—”
“Try me, baby.” He shifted toward her and caught the back of her neck with his hand. Their mouths met, fused, and a hot shudder ripped up his spine. “Try me,” he said against her lips.
She broke away from him, gasping.
“See?” He reached out to thumb the moisture off her bottom lip. “I’ll make it good for you. Every time.”
“Don’t.” She shook her head, her voice a little desperate. “You don’t have to do that.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to do what?”
“Make it good for me. Worry about me at all.”
“What?”
She rose off the couch, extended her hand toward him. “Let’s go to bed, Cooper. Now.”
“You’re really starting to piss me off,” he said, ignoring her hand. “If it’s not Natasha, then why is it? Why don’t you think I can satisfy you?”
She turned her back. “I…I don’t want you to.”
His mind spinning, he could only stare at her squared, tense shoulders.
“I don’t want you to worry about that, about me.”
He stood, still not knowing what to think, to say, to do. “You’re tying me in knots again, Angel.” Her back stiffened even more when he brushed his fingertips across it. “Why would I want to go to bed with you and not think about you? Why wouldn’t I want to make it good for you?”
She was silent.
“Angel—”
“Because you won’t be able to,” she snapped out, her voice brittle. “Okay? Happy now? The truth is…”
“Yeah, let’s get to that.”
She took a breath. “The truth is, we might both die of old age if we wait around for me to have an orgasm.”
Cooper would have thought the whole conversation was some weird dream if the embarrassment in her voice wasn’t so real, so painful. “But…” He scrubbed his face with his hands and went over the last two weeks in his mind.
She’d admitted to the attraction first.
She’d kissed him, touched him.
He’d kissed her, touched her.
For God’s sake, he’d already made her come!
There was no denying that, was there? Yeah, women could fake it, but not that well. “In the kitchen…”
Her hand waved again. “An aberration. I told you, too much tofu—eggplant, whatever. I don’t know. But it’s not as if, as if…”
He saw her point right away. “As if I was inside you.”
She waved her hand again, but said nothing.
Cooper sucked in a steadying breath. If he hadn’t pleased her in the kitchen that night, he might have room for concern. But as it stood now, the only thing that worried him was how to convince her he was quite capable of taking her to bed and doing his part.
“Angel—”
“Please, Cooper. Please, let’s not discuss it.”
I-am-woman-hear-me-roar could apparently only take a person so far. He brushed his fingers across her back again. “Tell me that you like my kisses.”
“You know I do.”
He stepped up behind her and put his cheek against her temple. “That you like me to touch you.”
She leaned back against him. “Of course. And I like to touch you too.”
He smiled and his fingers found hers, linked them. There was no need to argue with her any longer. “Then let’s go to bed.”
When he was through, he promised himself, she’d be too wrung out to leave it.
To make sure things went her way, the instant they made it to the bedroom, Angel shed the dress.
Cooper stumbled back, staring at her body in the meager candlelight. “W-what the hell is that?”
“A little something I picked up today.” It was a skin tight teddy. White lace. Well, some of it was, anyway. From the sharp V between her legs to a line just below her breasts. But the cups covering them were an almost-transparent, nude-colored mesh.
“Do you like it?” She twirled.
He made a strangled noise. She’d made a similar sound herself when she’d tried the outfit on in the dressing room. The thong-style back of the teddy was nude-colored mesh too. On the modest meter, she registered an unwavering “very” and this getup was beyond daring. It was wild.
It was designed to make a man wild. It was designed to make a man think of nothing but his pleasure.
And she wanted to give that to Cooper. Somewhere between the moment he’d put his arm around his sister at the memorial service and the time she’d stumbled upon him watching the sunset with his niece, she’d lost her first line of defense. Then last night on the beach, without setting off a single warning bell, he’d slipped past her second guard.
And now she wanted to hold him in her arms and feel him lose himself in her.
It was such a dangerous want, though, that driving back from the mall she’d hit upon the one-time, do-it-quick plan. She was leaving in the morning, and with that plan she would make sure she didn’t leave any of herself behind. That he didn’t take anything from her.
He stayed statue-still as she approached him, except to shake his head. “You’re determined to win, aren’t you?”
“Mmm.” She focused on unbuttoning his shirt. “Is that such a bad thing?” Her hands slid over his bare shoulders as she pushed the fabric away.
He sucked in a harsh breath as she kissed the center of the scar on his chest. His hand pushed through her hair to cup the back of her head. “You’re the bad thing.”
She smiled against his hot skin, then ran her tongue down the shiny scar. He shuddered and she thought that bad sounded kinda fun.
The idea blossomed in her mind as she ran her mouth over his chest. Bad Angel could take what she wanted, taste what she wanted, push him to take her, quick, like she wanted him to. His belly was flat and hard and she rubbed her cheek against it. Then she dropped to her knees and shaped the erection beneath his jeans with her hands.
He groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair. “Angel, Angel.”
She smiled up at him, noting his half-closed eyes, the little jolt he made when she rubbed him with her palms. On impulse, she leaned forward and pressed her face there, running her chin up and down his hardness.
Her fingers went to the button at his waist.
He jerked her up by the elbows. “No,” he said roughly. “It’s too good to end that soon.”
“But…”
He crushed his mouth against hers. Angel felt that “bad” he’d mentioned start to simmer and burn inside of her—that hot boil of lust that kept turning up to surprise her. He thrust his tongue between her lips and she closed her eyes as he stroked against hers, hard and sure.
Then her mouth was left, wet and wanting, as he bent and took her mesh-covered nipple inside his mouth. As he sucked on it.
“Cooper.” Maybe she was moaning his name. Someone was.
“You can’t come to me, you can’t come to my bed dressed like this and expect me to ignore you.”
She heard the words but didn’t really listen to them, because then he was latched onto her other nipple while kneading the first breast with firm, demanding pressure. Her back arched, and he slid his arms behind her and carried her to the bed, never lifting his mouth from her breast.
Her pulse was thrumming, her body was throbbing. Need shivered her skin, she could see it quivering as he left her on the sheets to shuck his jeans.
His body was so hard, so long and beautiful, carved of muscle. Standing beside the bed, he stared down at her. His palm slid over his erection. “I could do this for myself, Angel,” he said, his voice hoarse. “That’s not what I want from you.”
Her heart stuttered. No! Not anything else. She tried rolling away from him, but he dropped onto the bed and hauled her back. When his hot skin touched hers, she was compelled to reach out, to run her hand over his muscled forearm and then over the long firm line of his flank.
It was the maleness that called to her, she told herself. Not him. Not particularly him. She drew her hand up his thigh again as his mouth moved over hers. This time the kiss was soft, sweet, a gentle persuasion.
His touch was gentle now too, gently tracing her shoulders, her breasts, gently running down her arms to link their fingers. He moved above her and she opened her thighs, let him settle in the cradle of her body.
His weight was so good. He flexed his hips, seating himself deeper against her, and she answered with a push of her own. They rubbed against each other like that, and Angel felt the pressure growing. It was that tingly, tense pressure that was so good.
And that no man had ever been able to release for her in bed.
Remembering that, she willed herself to relax. Ordering her body not to move, she mentally forced the tightening arousal to unwind.
Cooper lifted his head. “What are you doing?”
She pushed her hands into his hair, trying to bring his mouth back. “Nothing. Not a thing.”
He narrowed his eyes, but let her draw him down for another slow kiss. It was pleasant, Angel thought, to feel his warmth, to feel his desire pounding at her breast, heating between her thighs. Her body wanted to catch fire again, to make answering moves to his, but she made herself lie passive beneath him.
Groaning, he rolled away from her. “Angel.”
“What?” She turned on her side to stroke his cheek. “What’s the matter?” She didn’t like the frown between his brows. If he moved against her again, she’d take care of it, take care of him by taking him into her body. He’d find his pleasure there.
He caught her hand and pressed his mouth to the center of her palm. “You’re the matter. You don’t want this.”
“I do!” She swallowed. “You do.”
“Angel—”
She muffled whatever he had to say with her lips. With a long, sultry kiss. He groaned, then tore his mouth away.
“All right, all right.” He was panting. “You win. We’ll give it a try.”
“Good.” She eagerly moved in for another kiss.
But he held her off. “You have to turn off that pretty head of yours, though. There’s too many wheels spinning in there. I can hear them grinding as they go ’round, baby.”
But her head was what kept her sensible. Unhurt. “No other man has complained about the sound of my brain,” she grumbled.
He smiled and brushed her hair away from her face, the gesture so tender her chest ached. “Maybe that’s the trouble.” Then he lifted her over him so they were nose to nose. “Now, shh,” he said, massaging her temples. “Shut this part down. For me. Do it for me.”
His kiss was slow, persuasive, drugging. Angel sighed into it, sighed into him, as his hands stroked along her back. It was sweet, really, and her limbs went heavy.
He shifted her legs, moving them to either side of his hips, and she smiled as she felt the press of his erection between her thighs. There was only a thin strip of material between them and it was nice to feel so close to him, to feel him nudging her there.
“Sit up,” he whispered against her mouth. “Sit up so I can touch your pretty breasts.”
It was as if she were in the hot tub again, her limbs hampered by heated water, but she finally managed. She smiled down at him, running her finger over his lips. “You’re handsome. I used to have a crush on you.”
“Yeah?” He grinned, then caught the tip between his teeth. Nipped. Sucked. “Now I have a crush on you.”
Even hard and hot between her legs, he was sweet, so sweet. She smiled at him again, feeling warm and lazy.
His hands slid inside the mesh at either side of her breasts, the fabric stretching to accommodate him so he could cup her. He caught her nipples between the scissors of his fingers, tightened.
She jerked. Fire flashed up her spine.
His fingers made that scissor motion again.
Her hips moved over him.
He pinched harder. More fire as she rocked again.
“That’s good.” They said it together.
Cooper’s voice went lower, harder. “Let me come inside now.” She started to move off, but he shifted his hands to grip her hips, holding her against him. “Like this,” he said. “Just like this.”
Then he pulled aside the stretchy fabric between her legs. Thrust inside. Thrust smoothly inside.
He grunted. She moaned. The heat, the pressure, twisted quickly, almost viciously, into a tight coil of pleasure.
His fingers tightened on her hips. “Ride me,” he commanded. “Ride me.”
She had to. She had to move.
It felt so good. Each time he pushed into her she thought he was getting bigger, harder. But when she tried to back off, when she tried to lift herself from him, he pulled her down, his fingers biting into her flesh. Holding her down, against him, making her take the pleasure of each hard thrust.
The tension inside her was twisting tighter and tighter. Their harsh breaths made it twist, his invading thrusts made it twist, his hands holding her down and making her take it, take him, made it twist again and again and again.
Angel dropped her head back and closed her eyes. Cooper’s body was moving with more and more deliberation. Harder. Faster. He was getting close, she knew it, and she needed to unwind her desire now. She tried to put it from her mind, go passive, limp, turn off the tension.
“No!” Cooper grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged her head forward. “Don’t go away, damn it. Stay. Stay here.”
She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
He put his hand between her thighs, just where their bodies joined. Through the mesh he touched her there. She jerked at the first contact, tried to jerk away.
His other hand tightened on her thigh, holding her down. “Let me, Angel. Let me have everything.”
Let him? No! That was her signal to ease off, to…
But he was so big and hard inside, filling her just right, and his fingers were so insistent on the outside, touching her, touching her just right. Not stopping either, not allowing her to pull away, pull back, go passive.
“Let me,” he whispered, his fingers on the mesh, over her right there, rolling over the wet bud with a sure touch.
And as she started to quake, he pushed himself higher inside her, thrust harder, higher. And for the first time in her life, Angel felt the orgasmic waves of her body bring on the orgasmic waves of a man. Of Cooper, who hadn’t had sex since he’d been brought back to life.
They cried out together.