“They’re not teenagers. They don’t need a role model.” Kat shoved him playfully. “All I’m saying is, loosen the reins a little. Have some fun. You’re both adults and you’re clearly attracted to each other. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
The door to the cottage flew open. Annie, dressed in her Princess Peach pajamas and sandals, careened out onto the front step, her backpack slung over one shoulder. “Ready!”
Jo appeared next, leaning a hip against the doorway. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth,” she said.
“I won’t.” Annie gave Derek a quick hug around his middle before taking Kat’s hand and skipping off into the night, already making detailed plans for the snacks they’d consumeduring their girls’ night.
He kept his eyes on the receding form of his daughter longer than necessary just to feel the sweep of Jo’s eyes over his back. If he turned around, he’d have to acknowledge that they were really alone, that there was no way in hell he would be able to get through the night without kissing her, touching her. That this thing between them was knitting itself into his skin, seeping into his muscles and twining around his organs.
It doesn’t have to mean anything, he repeated to himself.
It was too late for that. It had been too late for that the moment he decided to stay over that first night. The instant he let himself fall asleep in her arms. He liked her. More than was reasonable for someone he’d just met. More than he’d liked anyone in a long time. And if he crossed this line with her again—no, notif.When. There would be no going back, no pretending it didn’t mean anything.
But maybe it doesn’t have to mean everything...
Maybe this time he could be the guy who had a casual fling and walked away. Maybe he could take these moments for himself without it impacting his daughter or his business. And when it inevitably ended in a few days, he could go back to being the guy everyone else needed him to be: responsible, cautious, the consummate rule follower.
And lonely. Can’t forget that part.
Fine. At least he wouldn’t be lonely for the next few days.
When at last he turned to face her, Jo’s too-perceptive eyes met his. “What now?” she asked.
He moved towards her, bringing them toe to toe, her barefeet against his dress shoes. Capturing that lock of blue hair again, he twisted it around his finger, tugging. He watched as her eyes grew darker, the gray-blue of her irises shrinking to a thin ring around her pupils.
Something primal and possessive yawned to life in his chest when he dug his other hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and she tilted her face up to him. He made a slow perusal of her face, caressing her lips, her cheekbones, with his gaze. Lower, across the sharp ridge of her clavicle, the tips of her breasts, tempting peaks pressing through her shirt.
“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” He scarcely recognized the deep gravel of his voice.
He tightened his grasp on her hair to keep from shoving his hand between her legs, and she shifted in his hold, squeezing her thighs together. “What about your rules?”
He pressed his hips against her, letting her feel how little he cared about the rules at that moment. “Time for some new rules.”
She bit her lip and nodded eagerly, his cock kicking against her belly behind the placket of his pants.
“No one can know about this, Jo. My life is complicated. Between work and Annie... This makes things more complicated.”
“Then let me uncomplicate it.” She snaked a hand between them, palming his cock over his pants.
He hissed and rocked into her touch, glancing out into the darkness. Anyone passing by could see them standing there in the open doorway to the cottage. The thought shouldn’t havemade him want her more.
“We have three nights to work this—whatever it is—out of our systems.” He grunted in agreement and pressed a kiss to the curve of her jaw. “I’m not the complicated type, Derek. I’m not interested in making things harder for you.” She squeezed his cock, grinning. “Well, I suppose there are some things I’m very interested in making harder.”
He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, tasting that grin. “Get inside, little menace.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Make me.”
Chapter 11
Jo knew good sex. She was also well acquainted with mediocre sex, with perfunctory sex, with performative sex.
She was still somehow unprepared, however, for Derek Owens, daddy fox himself. Despite a stellar one-night-stand two days before (did it still count as a one-night-stand if there was a repeat performance?), she was still somehow caught off guard by how insanely wild with need he could make her with only a look. And when he threw her over his shoulder and marched into the cottage, kicking the door closed behind them? Good lord. She wasn’t sure anything could have prepared her for how unreasonably hot that was.
He stalked down the hallway, his arm banded across her legs. “Put me down,” she protested, though really she didn’t mind being manhandled, but it seemed like the kind of thing a self-respecting, independent woman should say.
He smacked her ass and she let out a yelp of surprise, thesting of the slap giving way to a deep heat that sank into her backside and curled around her thighs, teasing at the space between her legs. Derek didn’t bother closing the door to the bedroom before he tossed her into the center of the king-size bed. She bounced lightly on the mattress and propped herself up on her elbows.
“Strip.”