They were absolutely not having sex.  She hardly knew this man.  Her mother would be ashamed of her.  She should be ashamed of herself.  But shame was the last thing she was feeling as she devoured his mouth like her Nonna’s Italian cream pie, because he tasted that delicious. 

Mickie didn’t do casual sex. She wanted a man to earn his place in her bed and in her heart.  It was how she’d been raised.  But the way he kissed her, worshiped her mouth, if Grayson Jennings wanted a free ticket to ride, she’d holler all aboard.

He’s been nothing but an ass to you.  Mickie reminded herself to find strength.  But it didn’t help at all when his tongue tangled with hers and delicious waves of pleasure washed through her. 

Well, mostly.  He had saved her life.  And was helping her—or planned to, as soon as he wasn’t kissing her.  And she wasn’t kissing him.  If that wasn’t earning a place, she didn’t know what would.  A green light flashed behind her closed lids, and she moaned into his mouth.

He’s injured, she reminded herself.  But he doesn’t act injured, her mind and the bottle of white wine she drank countered.  Her heart raced as she rubbed herself against him like Tito rubbed himself against her leg when he wanted to be picked up and petted.  Mickie could definitely go for some heavy petting herself, she thought, when Grayson ground his erection into her hip and she stroked it with her body.

This massage had been a mistake, but the best idea she’d ever had in her life.

Dragging in breaths through her nose, Mickie gave up fighting it and threw herself into the insanely erotic kiss. This man didn’t kiss with his mouth.  He kissed with his whole being and she wanted to absorb every ounce of him. 

She shoved her hand into his short hair, dug her nails into his scalp to hold him closer, kiss him deeper.  Waves of heated need washed through her as she wished the Lycra separating her flesh from his would melt away.  With as much heat as they were producing, she was surprised they hadn’t melted yet.

Grayson moaned as his hot fingers branded her skin.  He shoved his hand beneath her back, then plunged his fingers under the tight waistband of her yoga pants to knead her ass.  He pulled her tighter to his body and his hips worked faster as he kissed her fiercely. 

Mickie tensed when his index finger slipped between her ass cheeks and anticipation danced up her spine.  Oh, God…how could he know she’d always wondered how that would feel?  Well, not always, but since reading the last romance novel she’d picked up at the shelter to entertain herself.  

With a moan, Mickie slid her body higher, pushing his finger lower into the crevice and closer to where she wanted to feel his touch.  She mewled as she wiggled her hips against his hand and his body tensed.

His hot groan filtered into her mouth as his finger found her anus and he circled it as he kissed her deeper.  A web of heated sensation built outward from the sensitive nerves there, until every nerve in her body was on fire. A shiver racked her, shards of desire zipped up her spine and Mickie now had her answer. It felt freaking amazing, but she needed more.

Arching her back, his finger moved over the tight ring of her anus and a tremor rocked her.  It pulsed as her clit buzzed, her inner walls flexed.  With a needy mewl, she rocked against his hand to give him the message she wanted more. 

Grayson shifted his hips to center the head of his cock on her clit and she wrapped her calf tighter around his knee.  He kissed her savagely, as he ground himself against her while he lightly circled her anus with more pressure. 

Mickie curled her back more, the seam of the tight pants raked her clit with each movement and she gasped and tensed when the tip of his finger finally slipped inside the tight ring.  His tongue ravaged hers as he went a little deeper and Mickie hissed her pleasure.

They were having sex.  With her clothes on.  And she was about to come.  If he would just—

She moved her calf higher to his thigh, her hips worked faster against his solid length. Grayson groaned, but suddenly his body tensed, his finger left her and he spun around on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Mickie asked, sitting up beside him, her heart pounding in her ears, her body on fire for him.

He didn’t respond. He flew off of the beach bed and streaked, literally, into the house.  Mickie slid to the edge of the bed and stood, then she heard it. 

The smoke alarm!

Her heart flew up to her throat as she ran to the slider then into the house, which was filled with thick, gray smoke.  By the time she got to the kitchen, Grayson wore an oven mitt and had the oven open.  He coughed as the reached into the depths of the oven, and his hand emerged with a blackened baking pan that billowed plumes of smoke. 

He quickly dropped it into the sink and turned on the tap.  His shoulders slumped and he bent his head.  Mickie walked up behind him to put her hand on his back and he tensed.

“Not a good idea, Jersey,” he said, his voice gruff. “Thank you for the massage and I’m sorry things got out of hand.”

Mickie wasn’t sorry, and she was disappointed that he felt that way.  Her body was a boiling cauldron of need at the moment, and if she could find somewhere private, she’d take matters into her own hands, since it didn’t appear he would be finishing what he started.

With a harsh breath and a cough, Gray pushed away from the sink, and her, then went back to the oven to pull out the second pan and drop it into the sink.   He picked up a dishtowel and reached up to fan the smoke away from the screeching smoke detector.

The harsh, ear-splitting beep became so abrasive, Mickie covered her ears for the three full minutes it took for the alarm to finally stop blaring.  Grayson tossed the towel down on the counter to limp into the breakfast area to open windows.  He opened the slider too, then turned to her.

“I’m going upstairs to see if I can find some clothes in one of the bedrooms.  If you could put my sweatpants and t-shirt in the wash, I’d appreciate it.”

“You shouldn’t be climbing stairs,” she said, her eyes burning as she covered her mouth with her hand to cough. “I’ll go upstairs and look. You put your clothes in the wash.” 

Gray shook his head and Mickie thought she heard him mumble, “Lou Ellen, Jr.” as she turned toward the stairs.  She couldn’t be sure because even though it was stopped, the alarm was still ringing in her ears. 

The first two bedrooms she searched were as empty and clean as a hotel room.  The third bedroom, though, produced a pair of camo cargo pants hanging in the closet. They looked a little short for him, but appeared to be about the right size.  In a drawer, she also found a pair of wild boxer briefs which made her laugh when she pictured Grayson Jennings wearing them. 

What man wore bright yellow underwear with a huge pair of red smiling lips printed around the flap on the front?  It looked like the men at Deep Six Security were a strange, but fun, group.

In the fourth and final bedroom she searched, Mickie found an olive green t-shirt for Gray, and a pair of yoga pants and lacy black panties which should fit her.  She searched the bathroom and was surprised to find two new-in-the-pack toothbrushes, toothpaste…and a box of condoms. 

Wishful thinking based on his attitude after their interruption, but she added them to her bundle, just in case.  She also found a box of cotton balls in the linen closet, which she could use with vanilla to rid the house of the smoky smell.  The cinnamon she’d purchased during her shopping trip could be boiled to help, too.  Nonna had some handy tricks up her sleeve that Mickie was very glad she’d shared.

Her mood sank even lower if that was possible, as a desire to hug her grandmother just once more overwhelmed her.  In the five years since her passing, Mickie had been floundering without her and her sage advice. She was almost glad Giselle Girabladi wasn’t around to see what a mess her life had become.  Mickie knew she’d be disappointed in her.  Especially disappointed if she knew what just happened out on that beach bed with a man she barely knew. 

That led her to wonder what Nonna would’ve thought about Grayson Jennings.  Without a doubt, she would’ve thought he was handsome.  The fact he wore suits, instead of casual clothes, would’ve impressed her.  His education and gentlemanly manners would’ve charmed her, too. 

Like it had Mickie.  The only thing she probably wouldn’t have appreciated was his snarky sense of humor.  But then she didn’t appreciate Mickie’s smart mouth, either.  Her mouth had often gotten her in trouble with her grandmother.

Where are your manners, piccolina? That isn’t polite. When dealing with five crude brothers, Nonna, polite is not possible.  Men will be men, piccolina, but you are a lady.

Mickie smiled, but her step was a little heavier as she walked to the top of the stairs and carefully made her way down each tread.  When she reached the bottom, Gray was nowhere to be found, so she guessed he’d gone back outside to get fresh air.  Mickie needed fresh air too, and a cold shower, after what happened a few minutes ago.  Instead, she covered her mouth and nose with her hand, and waded through the lingering cloud of smoke to go to the kitchen.

She put the bundle of things she gathered upstairs on the breakfast bar, then found a plastic grocery bag.  After poking holes in it with an ink pen she found in a drawer, she soaked the cotton balls with vanilla extract, put them in the bag, and tied it.  She filled a small sauce pan with water then emptied the tin of cinnamon into the water and put it on the stove to boil. 

With a groan, she turned to the sink to clean the burnt pans. By the time she finished, the smoke had mostly cleared and the odor was starting to dissipate.  With a sigh, she wiped her hands on the dishtowel and turned toward the slider. 

Grayson Jennings stood there in the doorway backlit by the bright sun, his hair wet and messed as water ran in rivulets over his defined chest.  Mickie’s tongue tingled to taste the salt water mixed with the flavor of his heated skin, her fingers itched to comb though his hair.  The towel wrapped low around his trim waist slipped lower, and her breath caught.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he growled, and her eyes streaked up his body to see his eyebrows crash together.  He was obviously angry, and looking to take it out on her.

“I’m sorry for burning dinner,” she said, thinking that was his problem. He was probably angry that she’d almost burned down his boss’s—no, their boss’s—beach house and she couldn’t blame him, really.  “Just go back outside and I’ll fix us something—”

“No, I’ll just grab a sandwich. We’ve got work to do and this isn’t getting it done. Contrary to what you seem to think, Ms. Girabaldi, I don’t have endless time to help you.  I have a job in Dallas and need to get back to it.”

The asshole was back.  Anger and embarrassment mixed to push heat up her throat to her face.  Mickie walked to the breakfast bar, sorted through the pile of clothes and found the pants and t-shirt then tossed them at his feet.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to keep you from your job, Mr. Jennings.”  Mickie crossed her arms over her chest to glare at him.  “If you remember, I didn’t ask for your help, you offered it.  Please, by all means get dressed and leave.  I’m sure I’ll work things out eventually.”

“Lou Ellen will fillet me if I go back to the compound without you, so you’re getting my help, whether you want it or not.”  So he’d only offered to help her because of Lou Ellen, not because he wanted to help her.  More disappointment washed through her. 

This man wasn’t kind or charming, and he certainly wasn’t chivalrous.  Her first estimation was correct—he was a self-centered stronzo.

Gray bent and picked up the clothes from the floor.  No need for you to be modest now, mister.  I’ve seen all the goods, because you proudly displayed them for me.  They don’t do a damned thing for me now, Mr. Peacock, since I know what resides inside that amazing body of yours.

“There’s a notepad in my briefcase outside.  Get it and write down everything you can think of that might help me find your cousin.  Include anything you can recall about your uncle’s business dealings and associates too, then leave me alone.”

His heated, now salty scent mixed with garlic from the massage oil swirled around her as he brushed by her to walk toward the hallway.  She had never smelled anything better, but his attitude soured it for her.  Nothing could make her want to let him touch her again.

Mickie closed her eyes, took several deep breaths then walked out the sliding door onto the patio.  She saw his large, leather briefcase leaning against the bedpost and went there.  With a grunt, she hefted the heavy satchel onto the bed, flipped back the flap and unzipped it. 

After extracting a yellow legal pad and pen, she pushed the case off the edge of the bed and the weight almost took her off the bed with it.  How dare he talk about her purse!  This was his man purse, totally equivalent to her bag.  Like he accused with her bag, she felt sure everything he owned was in that case too, and she made a point to tell him about it later.  Right now, she needed to do what he requested, because, although it galled her, she really did need his help.

She crawled onto the bed and sat cross-legged in the middle with the pad on her lap, but stopped when something under a pillow near her knee caught her eye.  Leaning over, she nudged the pillow aside. Shock rocked her when she found her romance novel there, which had been in her purse!  Anger surged through her as she glanced at the cover then looked back at the sliding door. 

Not only had Grayson Jennings gone through her things―from the bent page marking his place, it was obvious he had been reading her book!  Embarrassment washed through her as she opened the book to the page he had marked and read.

Ryker kissed her deeply as he kneaded her ass.  Sonia moaned into his mouth, pressed back into his hand and his fingers slipped between her cheeks. They traveled deeper into the crevice as his tongue warred with hers. 

He bit her lip as he gently stroked his fingertip over her anus and she tremored as naughty pleasure electrified her nerve endings.  “Oh, God yessss!” Sonia hissed into his mouth needing more.

Oh, God—no! Michaela slammed the book shut and anger consumed her.  No wonder he knew just how to get to her, she thought, grinding her teeth. He wasn’t a magical lover who knew just what to do to her, just how to kiss her.  He was a freaking thief and pretender who’d stolen an instruction manual on how to seduce a woman.

Well, he wouldn’t be needing that guide anymore, she thought.  Mickie was on to Mr. Armani and his stolen moves, which he wouldn’t have another chance to try out on her.  He also wouldn’t be finishing her book, she thought, standing to walk to the barbecue pit near the edge of the patio.  She lifted the lid, tossed the book onto the grill and slammed it shut.