10
AT NINE THIRTY THAT NIGHT, shortly after closing, Violet stood upstairs in the musty room, watching Hogan move a massive trunk, then another. They each held items of sentimental value. She’d go through them when she was alone, without an audience, in case she got a little weepy with nostalgia.
After he’d cleared the spot, Hogan stopped and stared at the warped door. He lifted the heavy lock. “What’s this?”
“A lock.”
“I can see that. But what’s behind the door?”
“The stairs.”
“What stairs?”
So he was still testy? Apparently. Since that obnoxious woman had left and they’d made their future plans—she loved the sound of that—Hogan had waffled through many different reactions. She could understand, though. Likely every time he thought of the challenges, it weighed on him. Unlike her, he had his son to think about, too.
Although she did a lot of thinking about Colt, as well. As a terrific young man, a valuable employee and an extension of Hogan, how could she not?
Every so often, guilt pierced her, but she couldn’t regret what she’d done. No way could Hogan have enjoyed, or even been content, working in that atmosphere. Colt had told her about Joni Jeffers’s visit to their home, how the woman had leered at Hogan. It wasn’t even close to a date, not when the former boss had forced her way into their house.
“Violet, did you check out? Or are you as surprised by the door as I am?”
Surprised, no. She was excited. But not about the door, or expanding the space. She wanted to kiss him again.
And other stuff.
She shook her head. “I was just thinking.”
Looking skeptical, he cocked a brow. “About?”
Hogan wanted only to talk business. Okay, so she’d tamp down her carnal urges and they’d talk business. If he could keep it under wraps, then she could, too.
Maybe.
“There’s a back entrance to this floor,” she said, striding closer. “You’ve never noticed it in the back lot? Rickety metal stairs that lead up to an equally rickety door? That’s why I have it double locked. I always thought someone could force their way in otherwise, and I didn’t like the idea of getting here and finding an unwelcome, um, visitor.”
“I’m glad you thought to secure it.” He stared at the door. “I can’t believe I never noticed.”
She shrugged. “It was there when Uncle Bibb bought the business, long before I can even remember.”
“Another entrance,” he murmured, fascination in his expression. “Come on. I want to see it.” He took her hand and tugged her along with him.
“So we’re done exploring up here?”
“For now.” Even going down the narrow stairwell, he kept her hand enclosed in his. “I want to get home early enough tonight to actually visit with my son. He has to have questions.”
Guilt, damn it. She tried to shake it off. “Given what he told me about that woman, he’s probably relieved.”
“That woman, huh? Her name is Joni Jeffers and she is—was—my boss. She actually runs a good, solid business. She’s respected. The agency was respected.”
He was respected? Violet wanted to hug him and tell him... What? They reached the landing, and as they turned the corner to the main room, she said, “My diner is not a dive.”
With a short laugh, he said, “No, it’s not. You’ve done well with it. I think I can finesse things a little more, though. Now that I can dedicate all my time to it, we’ll put it on the fast track.”
A shiver of dread mixed with affront went up her spine. Fast-track changes? She looked around as they went through the dim interior to the back door. “Uncle Bibb poured his heart into this place. I see him everywhere. He chose the booths and tables himself, you know. Even repaired them a few times.”
Hogan nodded, somewhat distracted. “He was a handyman?”
“Yes. But see that nick in the wall, right there by the storage room? He was carrying a ladder to change a light, accidentally hit the wall, knocked himself over, bumped a waitress who sent her tray flying, and the noise scared half the customers.” She couldn’t see that nick without smiling.
Glancing at her, Hogan said gently, “We’ll leave the nick,” and drew her outside with him after he’d unlocked the door.
“I remember when he replaced the Screwy Louie sign, taking down the old wooden one and putting up the neon. He was so damn proud of it.”
“With good reason.” Again holding her hand, Hogan led her around to where a longer section of the brick building met a shorter section, and in that space was the stairs. “Huh.”
The heavy metal bin for trash sat beneath the stairs. Broken chips of concrete, dried leaves and a bottle cap filled the corner.
Violet had never much minded the random debris that got in that corner, but now, with Hogan seeing it, she wished she’d had it swept. “It’s not a pretty sight, is it?”
“Not like it is, no. But it could be.” He released her to run his hand along the rail of the stairs, giving it a couple of tugs. “It’s not actually rickety.”
“It feels rickety if you walk on it.”
Taking that as a challenge, Hogan bounded up the steps, his tread deliberately heavy. “No, they’re solid. It’s just that they’re metal, so they make a racket. We’d have to have them inspected, but I think they’d be okay.”
The glow of a tall security light reflected on Hogan’s dark hair and sent interesting shadows over his body, showcasing the width of his shoulders, making the cut of his muscles more defined. “Okay for what?”
As he came back down, the clanking of his shoes on metal echoed over the lot. “If we get the upstairs set up for a younger crowd, you don’t necessarily want them tromping through the restaurant, disturbing people who only want to eat. They could use this entrance, instead. You’d have more capacity without all the chaos.”
Violet pictured it, somewhat liked what she saw, but it was so much change it still bothered her. “You’re moving at light speed,” she grumbled.
He tweaked her chin and smiled down at her. “Have to. Some little redheaded wonder ensured I got fired, so now we need to make this work.”
They were alone in the lot, the printing business next door to them closed, no one around. Even the street was quiet. The scents of sunshine and grill smoke still clung to him, mingling with the scent of him.
Staring up at him, Violet saw his eagerness, as if maybe she hadn’t totally screwed up his life.
She licked her lips, then softly said his name.
His gaze went from teasing to awareness in a heartbeat. His thumb released her chin and instead brushed over the corner of her mouth, then drifted up her cheek until his fingers played with loose tendrils of her hair, tucking them back behind her ear.
When his hand cupped her nape beneath her ponytail, she almost melted. It was such a guy thing to do, especially with the way he drew her in closer while lowering his mouth.
Lord, she was lost long before their lips touched.
This kiss was nothing like the one earlier in the prep area. He’d been hungry then, devastating, hard and fast. Now he only played with her, nipping her bottom lip, licking her upper, settling his mouth gently over hers with almost no pressure.
Wanting to feel the warmth of his big body, the strength of him, she moved closer. For so long she’d been tackling everything alone, and now there was Hogan, and somehow, in such a short time, he’d infiltrated every part of her life.
Almost every part. She’d work on the rest very soon.
Holding her, he turned until her back was pressed against the brick wall of the building. He leaned into her, his hips pinning her in place. Both of his hands now held her face tipped up to his so he could kiss her as long and slow and deep as he wanted.
As he eased up, she felt his hot breath on her mouth. “Violet.”
The way he said her name, all raspy and rough, was incredibly sexy. “Yes.” Yes to anything he wanted. He could change the diner; he could take her to bed. Yes.
She felt his smile. “You are such a contradiction.” He leaned in closer, using a hand on her behind to keep her snug against him, his other hand braced on the wall above her head. Tilting his head slightly, he fitted his mouth to hers, moving so that her lips opened and he licked in.
A Barbecue Master with a magic tongue. Maybe that’s what she should put on his shirt—when she got around to getting him a shirt. He knew how to kiss. He knew how to use that tongue to make her toes curl.
Pulling back, he kissed the corner of her mouth again, then her jaw and her neck. He put his forehead to hers. “I shouldn’t have started this.”
“You could try finishing it.”
“Definitely. That’s at the top of our growing to-do list.” He put some space between them. “But I really do need to talk to Colt tonight.”
This time the guilt that swamped her actually hurt. “I’m so sorry. Damn, I completely forgot. I shouldn’t have, though. It’s unforgivable. I know how confused he must be and you already said—”
To quiet her, Hogan touched his finger to her lips. His eyes looked midnight dark and aroused, but still, he was such a responsible parent. “Colt’s not a baby, and he’s probably not all that confused.”
Violet clasped his wrist and pulled his hand away. “Maybe not confused. That’s not the right word. But like you said, he has to have questions.”
Nodding, Hogan said, “Since it’s just the two of us now, I don’t like making decisions without him. Not big decisions like this. At least not without talking to him about it.”
Dropping her head back against the brick, Violet groaned. “The truth is you didn’t make the decision. I did, and I’m really sorry.”
“It’s done. I’m not going to regret it too much. In the future, though, you might try holding that temper under wraps.”
“Temper?” She laughed at herself. “We both know it was jealousy. Mostly, anyway.” In her defense, she said, “She did insult my diner, too.”
Hogan went quiet, staring at her thoughtfully, even a little warily.
God, now she was scaring him off. Trying to backtrack, she teased, “I can’t have her getting what I haven’t even gotten yet.” She figured Hogan could handle sexual jealousy. It was just the emotional stuff that worried him.
So she’d hide all emotion. Somehow.
“Trust me, she won’t get anything like that from me.” He looked up at the sliver of a moon. “I have to see her tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I know.”
In an enormous understatement, he said, “It’s going to be awkward.”
Hating to think about it, Violet growled, “It’s grossly unfair of her to put you in this position.” Conveniently exonerating herself for her part, she added, “She’s such a...witch.”
His mouth twitched. “Nice edit. Too bad you didn’t show more discretion earlier.”
Shoving aside the pesky guilt, she glared at him. “Seriously, Hogan, are you really regretting it so much? She was awful. You couldn’t possibly have liked working with her.”
“When it comes to responsibility, liking something has little to do with it.” Again he took her hand. “Come on. Let’s lock up so I can get home. If I stand here talking any longer, Colt will already be in bed when I get there.”
“You really think so?”
“No.” He led her back into the diner so they could set the alarms. “Actually, I’m positive he’ll be waiting up.”
* * *
The whole gang was waiting on Jason’s porch when Hogan pulled into the drive. Diesel was the only one who rushed to greet him. He stroked the dog as he headed across the lawn for his brother’s house.
Jason gave him a long look. “Get everything worked out?”
“For the most part, yeah.”
Honor stood and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight. It always amazed Hogan how different it felt to hug a woman who was now a relative. Honor was very pretty, maybe even sexy in an understated, cute way, but he could have been hugging an actual sister. Instead of the deep heat and stirring of his blood that happened when he held Violet, this felt like a sweet, comforting warmth.
He hugged her off her feet, then kissed the top of her head. Diesel still stood beside him, tongue lolling out, tail swatting the air. Jason watched him. Colt looked worried. And Honor didn’t want to let him go.
Hogan barely stifled a laugh. “I really am fine, you know. I’m not going to curl up in a ball or anything.”
“We know.” As Diesel headed over to Colt and Jason tried—but failed—to look reassured, Honor patted his cheek. “You’re an incredibly strong man and I’m so proud of you and I’m glad you’re my brother-in-law.”
“All that?” he teased.
She nodded. “Plus, even though you probably didn’t need the hug, it made me feel better.”
“Why are you feeling bad?” He ruffled her honey-blond hair. “I’m the one who got fired.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Will you be mad if I tell you I’m a little bit glad?”
Had everyone wanted to see him employed full-time with the diner? It seemed so. “I could never be mad at you, hon.”
Next he turned to his son. Diesel was practically in Colt’s lap, his head and both front paws stretched out over his long legs, luxuriating in the way Colt scratched his scruff. “What about you?”
His son looked up with a grin. “I keep picturing Violet yelling at that woman. Man, she was fired up.”
“A redhead’s temper,” Jason said, then dodged his wife’s hands when she tried to smack him. He finally caught her, pulled her close and gave her a firm kiss and a smile. “Violet’s usually calm about everything. She handles customers like a grade school teacher with an unruly class. Instead of attacking, she firmly reasons things out.”
“Like that drunk guy,” Colt said. “She never lost her temper with him.”
Honor, who obviously knew all about that now, said, “That’s the Violet I know. Very easygoing. Always smiling at everyone. But today. Whew. She did look ready to attack.”
Someday, Hogan thought, he’d look back and laugh about it. But he wasn’t there yet. Every time he thought of the god-awful scene, he wanted to growl in embarrassment.
Would he ever have real privacy? He sure as hell hadn’t had it in Columbus. Now he didn’t have it Clearbrook, either. Dodging the uncomfortable knowledge, he said to Colt, “You ready to head home?”
“Yeah.” As Colt started to stand, Diesel lumbered to his feet, wagged his tail at Colt and Hogan, then headed for Jason’s front door.
Hogan shook his head. “Staying here tonight, Diesel?”
For an answer, the dog ignored Hogan and continued to stare at the door, waiting for it to open.
Honor laughed and went to let him in. “He does like to play fair, visiting us occasionally to let us know he loves us, too.”
“I don’t think he’s made up his mind yet where he lives.” Hogan knew Jason and Honor didn’t mind. The dog had started out as hers, but then had bonded to Colt. Occasionally, he just crashed wherever he was nearest.
Jason gave Colt a one-arm man hug, clapped Hogan on the shoulder and said, “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” Not that long ago, he’d lived with his brother while getting back on his feet. He didn’t want to ever do that again. Jason had been terrific about it, but he was a grown man, damn it. He would make it on his own.
Honor hugged each of them again, lingering over Colt, who always seemed to enjoy her attention. Then she and Jason went inside together, a happy couple completely devoted to each other.
There’d been a time when Hogan thought he had the same. Hell, back then, Jason had razzed him about having the perfect life with a loving and dedicated wife, a smart, responsible son, a big house and prestigious job.
Amazing how quickly life could change.
As they crossed the dark yard, Hogan looked up at his son, who, at six foot three, stood above him. “Did you grow another inch?”
Colt grinned. “Nah. Maybe you’re shrinking?”
“I’m not that old.” At thirty-five, he still had his physical strength and stamina—but he shouldn’t have been starting over. Again.
They stepped into the house, and while Hogan closed and locked the door, Colt beat him to the punch, asking, “You and Violet worked it out, huh?”
“Sure.” Somewhat. He wasn’t entirely confident on how things would go, but the last thing he wanted was for Colt to have to worry.
“You let her off the hook, right?” Colt censured him with a frown. “You didn’t make her feel bad for losing her cool, did you?”
He had, but not excessively. Honestly, he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Humiliated, yes. Irate, definitely.
Marginally, insanely grateful? Could be.
After all the damage his wife had done, deep down it had felt good to have a woman care enough to defend him.
Hogan twisted his mouth. “She said she was jealous.”
“That was pretty obvious.” Grinning ear to ear, Colt said, “She likes you. Everyone knows it.”
And that, Hogan thought, was a problem, too. He had no intention of ever marrying again. So where did that leave his relationship with Violet? Business and casual sex? Somehow he couldn’t see her being content with that.
He looked at his son. “Do you like her?” What the hell kind of question was that?
“Yeah, I do.” Colt sprawled on the sofa. He was so long limbed, he overflowed everywhere. “She’s different from Honor, you know? I mean, she’s not always hugging me and stuff. She talks to me more like I’m an adult.” He gave it quick thought and amended, “Like an equal. And when I talk to her, she listens.”
Concerned, Hogan sat on the edge of the chair. “I don’t listen?”
“You do, sure.” Colt seemed amused by his worry. “But you listen because you have to.”
“No, I listen because I love you.”
For a second there, Colt flushed. “Right, I know that, but it’s different with Violet. She’s not a relative. She treats me the same as she does Jerry or Kristy.”
“She respects you.”
“I think so, and I like it.”
So Violet won Colt over by treating him like an equal and showing him respect? Knowing his son was at the tipping point to being a man, a really good man, he understood that. Respect, of course, was a very important thing.
“Plus,” Colt said, “I’m comfortable with her.”
“Me, too.” Hogan’s thoughts jumped ahead. “There’s something about her—” Another thing he hadn’t meant to say.
Picking up a throw pillow, Colt tossed it into the air a few times. Then he crammed the pillow onto the couch and spoke quietly. “I know you’re worried, Dad. There’s been a lot of stuff happening and I wasn’t crazy about moving at first. But I really like it here, now.”
“We’re not going anywhere.”
“I know.” Colt stared at the pillow. “And I know you want me to be happy.”
Chest tight, Hogan nodded. “More than anything.” His son needed to know that. Secure, but happy.
With a slow breath, Colt looked up and met his gaze, man-to-man. “I want you to be happy, too, Dad. You deserve it. When you’re working with Violet, you seem to be happier than I’ve seen you for a really long time, so I’m good with it. Better than good. Everything else, we can work that stuff out, right?”
Emotion gripped Hogan’s throat, but this was important, so he got it together. “Right.” While they had this uncommon heart-to-heart, he added, “We have each other. We have our health. Those are the most important things.” He tightened his mouth. “But I want college for you, too, Colt, and a decent house—”
“Are you kidding? I love this house.” Grinning again, Colt added, “And I really like living next door to Uncle Jason and Honor. With college, well, I have an idea.”
Worry gnawed on Hogan, but he tried to hide it. “You’re still going.” Not a question.
“Definitely.” A solid statement.
Relief loosened his muscles and Hogan even managed to smile. “Want to share?”
“Not yet. It’s complicated school stuff and I’ll tell you about it later.”
Hogan didn’t like the sound of that. “Colt, somehow I’m going to make it work. I want you to understand that. I’ll find a way—”
“I know. Now roll that back to the mushy stuff. Let’s focus on that right now. We’re both here and healthy and that’s good, right? Like you said, that’s the important stuff.”
“Agreed.”
“Just don’t hurt Violet’s feelings, okay? I have a feeling she needs to focus on the important stuff, too.”
Thinking about her background, the loss of her parents and her uncle Bibb, Hogan nodded. “You may have a point.” Which, of course, only added more complications.
* * *
Their first full official week together went amazingly well and they accomplished so much, Violet was left in awe. Having a partner of sorts, well, she was still very unsure about that, but it had gotten things moving, and now that the upstairs was cleared, she started to see the potential.
Hogan had moved the important stuff, the trunks, a few memorabilia signs and possibly some collectors’ items, into Jason’s garage until they had time to go through it. Anything that could be refurbished to use in the room once it was finished was also in the garage.
Everything else had been donated.
Unfortunately, from Monday to Friday they’d been so busy working, she hadn’t been able to coerce Hogan into more than a few stolen kisses.
The man slowly drove her insane.
Also, she didn’t want to be like that woman who’d pressured him to the point of harassment. She wanted him, wanted him to know that she wanted him, but she didn’t want him forced to dodge her.
“So what do you think?”
Lost in thought, Violet had no idea what Hogan had asked her. “Hmm?”
With a bucket of drywall mud beside him and a joint knife in his hand, Hogan laughed at her. “You do tend to go off into your own little world.”
Because that’s the only place where she was getting any. She sighed. “You look great messy—do you know that?” He had a dollop of mud in his hair, a smudge of dirt on his jaw, and he looked as much in his element as he did while grilling.
Confidence on a man was so damn sexy.
Hogan shook his head. “You’re demented.” Nodding toward the paint samples, he repeated, “Have you settled on a color?”
Every day, a few hours at a time before or after their shifts at the diner, they’d worked upstairs, first clearing the space, then while she’d washed the cobwebs off the windows, he’d patched the walls.
“You’re only giving me five choices.”
“Because,” he argued for the tenth time, “those are the most appropriate colors.”
To him, anyway. To “Mr. In-Charge.” She wrinkled her nose. “They’re all...blah.” She looked around again, thinking how big and open the space seemed now that it wasn’t packed to the ceiling with junk. “You know what would be great?”
“Given the umbrella you chose for me, I’m half afraid to ask.”
No, he was afraid because he really wanted to take over. It was in Hogan’s nature, that of an alpha, to make all the decisions. He tried to resist those inclinations, or at least conceal them. After all, he had given her five choices. Five choices of bland colors to paint the upstairs of her diner.
It was only that persistent guilt that kept her from rolling her eyes.
Well, guilt and his enthusiasm for the job. He’d tackled the cleanup work without a single complaint, and he was now full-time. She’d won at least half the battle, so she tried to be gracious.
He watched her, waiting, patient as she’d again gone off into her own little world. She put up her chin and said, “I want to paint it yellow.”
“Yellow?”
“Not some drab, faded yellow, but a nice bright yellow—like the school colors. That way, when one of the sports teams is playing, we could hang up banners and stuff and it’d look great for spirit day, right?”
Hogan stared at her, and slowly he smiled. “Actually, that’s a great idea.”
Did he really have to look so surprised? Straight-faced, she muttered, “Thank you. I manage one every now and then.”
“Given the success of the place, and the fact that you hired me, I’d say you’ve had a lot of great ideas.”
She bit back her smile. Now that he agreed, she couldn’t wait to tell him the rest of her ideas. “At first I thought about green for the curtains and stuff, you know, really going all out. But then I remembered myself in school. I wasn’t all that into school things, so I don’t want to overwhelm the place, just make it accommodating to our plans, whatever our plans might be.”
“Brilliant.”
The compliment warmed her. After her uncle Bibb had passed away, honest feedback on her hard work had been tough to come by. Customers were always nice, but it wasn’t the same thing, not by a long shot. “So how about something more neutral, but also sturdy and easy to clean? Like rattan blinds. Well, fake rattan, not the real thing. Fake is cheaper and probably more durable. They’ll look nice with the floor, once it’s polished up.”
Slowly, keeping his gaze on her, Hogan set aside the mud knife and cleaned his hands on a rag.
When he started in her direction, Violet’s heart jumped into her throat. “What are you doing?”
“What I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.”
Optimistic, she asked, “Sex?”
That stalled him, even made him shake his head and laugh. “I was thinking about a kiss, and an agreement on how good things are going since we’re compromising.”
She did most of the compromising—well, not really. It was just that he thought of things before she could, and she agreed with him, so there was no reason to insist they did anything a different way.
It just burned her butt a little that he didn’t give her a chance to be the director.
Stopping in front of her, his gaze searching hers, Hogan murmured, “But your idea has merit, too.”
She repeated, “My idea of...sex?” Her hopefulness made him cocky.
And damn him, that cockiness made him hotter.
“Sure. Why not?” He pulled her in close, his big hands open low on her back, and bent to nuzzle her neck. “You realize that all we have up here is the hard floor?”
Urgent now that she got his agreement, Violet tunneled her fingers into his hair and kept him close. “I don’t care.” It’d take ten minutes to get to her house, and since he was on board now, she didn’t want to take a chance on him changing his mind by giving him too much time to think about it.
He leaned back, his expression tender. “You’re great for my ego.”
“I doubt your ego needed much help. But what did you expect? After what we’ve already done, the past week has to count as the longest bout of foreplay in the history of mankind.”
A smug, very masculine smile appeared, and his gaze heated. “Have you been frustrated, honey?”
“Very.”
“So imagine how it’s been for me.” He leaned in near her ear and whispered roughly, “I know how you taste, and how you sound when you let go.” His mouth touched her temple. “And then to be here with you all week, constantly surrounded by people... I could teach you a thing or two about frustration.”
Violet grinned in relief. “I’m glad I’m not the only one suffering.”
“Tease.” He kissed her hard and fast, and just as she was getting into it, he stepped back. “Let’s cover that window first, okay? There’s enough gossip about me going on already. I don’t want to put on a show.”
Breathing wasn’t easy. “You don’t have to get home to Colt?”
“He knows I’m here working. I told him I might not get in until after midnight. He’s probably going to bed right about now.”
So they had uninterrupted time. “I would never want to interfere with—”
“I know, but I wouldn’t let you anyway.” He softened that rebuke by adding, “Anytime it’s a problem, I promise I’ll let you know.”
Nodding in acceptance, she grabbed up the sheet that would serve as a curtain until they finished the remodel. They definitely didn’t want to be seen if anyone happened to be out there.
Going on tiptoe, she got it tacked back up into place over the window, and when she turned back, Hogan was shirtless.
It was an amazing thing when a man so wonderful on the inside also had the perfect, very masculine wrapping on the outside.
Without conscious decision, Violet walked to him, her hand already lifted to touch what he’d exposed. He didn’t move as she reached up to put her palm on his sleek, hard shoulder. So warm to the touch, his muscles firm, flexing under her palm.
Fingers spread, she slowly trailed her hand down over his collarbone and into his crisp, dark chest hair, over the bulge of a pec muscle, then down over his flat abdomen. That downy line of dark hair that bisected his body and disappeared into his jeans was about as sexy as anything she’d ever seen. “You look nothing like an accountant.”
He snorted a short laugh. “You’re stereotyping?”
With a shrug, she said, “Honestly, you don’t look like any man I know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Violet pulled in a much-needed breath. “Every part of you stirs every part of me.”
He lightly caught her waist in his hands and drew her nearer. “I’m glad.” Then his mouth was on hers, immediately nudging her lips apart, his tongue licking over them before invading for a long, hot, wet kiss that left them both breathing harder.
He drew back enough to say, “I need to see you,” between kisses, and quickly pulled her shirt over her head.
Violet flushed. “Damn.”
With his gaze glued to her body, Hogan asked, “Problem?”
“My underwear doesn’t match.”
The side of his mouth quirked. “No?” He reached for the snap to her shorts. “Let me see.”
“I dressed in a hurry today,” she rushed to explain, “and we’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to do laundry. So—”
He pushed her shorts down, cutting off her lame excuses. Once they got past the flare of her hips, they fell easily to her feet.
“Step out,” he said, holding her hand and looking at her body from below her chin to above her knees.
She did, kicking off her sandals at the same time.
Hogan studied her so thoroughly, she couldn’t help but fidget. One of these days she wanted to be dressed up a little for him, wearing more makeup than just mascara, her hair fixed in something other than a ponytail, her clothes better thought out than shorts and a T-shirt. It would be nice to smell like perfume instead of French fries or chili.
And certainly, she wanted to wear some of her sexier underthings.
“They coordinate,” Hogan said. “A white bra with white-and-pink-flowered panties.” He kissed her temple, her jaw, while opening the back closure on her bra and taking it off her.
“You’re far too good at that.”
“Shh.” His large, rough hands held both her breasts, softly kneading while his mouth played over her skin.
Violet closed her eyes to the overwhelming sensations of being touched and kissed with the knowledge of what was to come.
No more frustration, not tonight.
“God, you smell good,” he whispered, making her rethink the perfume. Sliding an arm around her back, he brought her up so he could nuzzle her breasts.
In an agony of anticipation, she waited, her body on fire, and finally, finally, his mouth reached her nipple, his soft tongue laving, circling, and then he closed his firm lips around her, drawing her into the incredible wet heat of his mouth.
Groaning, Violet sank her fingers into his hair, keeping him right there. She felt the rhythmic pull of his mouth all the way to her womb.
While he suckled on her nipple, he also stroked her behind, squeezing each cheek, fondling her over her panties, then suddenly sliding his big hand into her panties, against her bare skin.
Arching forward even more, she heard him murmur husky encouragement as he touched her from behind, his fingers hot, a little rough, unhesitating in their exploration. He idly traced her sex, each pass opening her more, easing the way. Then he pressed a finger in.
A raw groan tore from her throat. She’d been waiting so long, forever it seemed, that she needed him now, right this second. He continued the alternate touches, lightly, then deep, tormenting her until she said, “Hogan, please...”
Taking away those amazing fingers, he whispered, “You’re already wet,” and went to a knee to strip her panties off her. He looked at her, completely naked, and slowly kissed his way up her body, starting with her inner thighs, her hip bones, her stomach, ribs and each breast, until he stood. With his gaze on her breasts, he reached for his zipper.
“Let me.” Pretty please. She’d thought about it so many times, pictured the scenario in her mind until she couldn’t wait to get him naked.
Hands shaking, Violet reached out, but instead of unfastening his jeans, she stroked the solid erection straining against the denim.
He put his head back, his hands tight at his sides.
Nice as it was to see him like this, impatience drove her.
Violet kissed his throat, lightly bit his shoulder and deftly opened the snap. After slowly sliding down the zipper, she reached into his boxers and closed her hand around his pulsing shaft.
Hogan breathed deeper. Then, his forehead to hers, he watched her stroking him.
He felt big in her hand, exciting her unbearably. She brought her thumb up and over the head, felt the warm slippery droplet there and heard his choked sound of suffering.
“I won’t last,” he groaned. “Not if you keep doing that.” His hand covered hers, tightening for only a moment before he pulled her away. After a few strained breaths, he smiled at her. “You still have those condoms?”
“Yes.” Bare assed and not caring, she hurried over to where she’d left her purse by the stairs. “I’m also on the pill, so you don’t have to worry.”
“The back of you is as beautiful as the front.”
“Is that so?” She put a little more sass into her walk and heard him laugh.
It was an awesome thing to be with a man who turned her on like no other, drew her admiration as a dad, shared her work ethic and made her laugh. Those things, she decided, were a perfect combo.
This time when she turned, a condom in hand, Hogan stood completely stripped, his shoulders against the wall, his hands lax at his sides, one leg bent.
Lord have mercy.
She stopped and just stared. He wasn’t a muscular hulk, but rather naturally strong, his body lean and hard from everyday work and probably a generous donation from an excellent gene pool. Much as she wanted him, she could be happy to look at him for an hour.
Eyes hot, Hogan smiled at her. “Don’t go shy on me now, honey. If I don’t have you soon, I’m a goner.”
She knew just what he meant. “Death from lust?”
“Something like that.”
“You are an incredibly gorgeous man, Hogan.” She couldn’t keep her gaze off him, looking him over from his wide shoulders and well-developed arms, his hairy chest to narrower hips. He was fully erect, his strong legs casually braced apart. Even his feet looked sexy to her. “I’ve been thinking about this since the day I met you.”
“Hussy,” he teased, then searched her face. “You hid it well. More often than not, I thought you disliked me.”
“I disliked things you did. A lot.” She licked her lips. “But I still wanted you.”
“What things?”
She waved the hand holding the condoms. “The way you looked at women, sometimes with contempt, how you chased after everything in a skirt.”
He didn’t deny the accusation, saying only, “We barely knew each other then.”
Shrugging, she stepped close and looked up at him. “Maybe even then I was jealous. Maybe,” she whispered, “since I’d wanted you at first sight, it burned my butt a little that you ignored me.”
“You know why I...” Hogan shook his head. “Let’s not go there, okay?” He held out a hand.
Because she’d once dated Jason? Was that the biggest reason he’d ignored her? She didn’t want anything to ruin the moment, so she didn’t press him.
As he rolled on the condom, she touched him, lightly holding his testicles, kissing his biceps, breathing in the rich, masculine scent of him.
“You’re playing with fire.” He abruptly turned her against the wall, and his mouth took hers, the kiss consuming even as he stroked her left thigh, lifting it high against his hip. With his other hand, he readied her.
Violet could have told him that it wasn’t necessary; she was so close to the edge, she only wanted to feel him, all of him.
She wanted to feel him deep inside her.
Maybe he was the same because he growled, “I can’t wait, honey. Tell me you’re ready.”
Eyes heavy and body burning, she whispered, “I’ve been ready for a month.”
He smiled against her cheek. “I love your country accent, especially when you’re hot and bothered. It’s even more pronounced.”
Deliberately drawling her words, Violet said, “Then how ’bout you get on with it, darlin’?”
“Hell of an idea.” He opened her with his fingers, guided himself to her, and after slowly gliding against her, ensuring they were both slick, he filled her with one long, firm thrust.
She cried out, her fingertips digging into his shoulders.
He groaned, crushing closer against her.
For a minute, they stayed like that, relishing the newness of it and, at least for Violet, the rightness of it, too.
“Hold on to me.” Hogan hooked both her knees in his elbows and lifted her against him, opening her legs wide, supporting her weight with his arms.
He was so deep that Violet couldn’t seem to catch a breath, but she didn’t care. She kept her arms wrapped around his neck, thrilled when he kissed her again, excited even more as he began a slow, steady rhythm while also moving her against him with his hands. She tightened around him, squeezing him inside her, and heard his broken groan of pleasure.
Between her legs she felt an answering rush of heat and dampness. She knew he felt it, too, and her skin heated and tingled, every inch of her body so sensitized that she already strained for release.
Hogan seemed in less of a hurry, content to kiss her lazily, touch her, fill her while riding so easily against her... That damned alpha male control made her a little insane and she tried to encourage him to haste with her own movements.
She wanted it harder, deeper.
Faster.
“Not yet,” he whispered against her mouth, pressing in all the way, grinding against her, then withdrawing until he almost left her, only to slowly sink in again. “Not just yet.”
She tried to stay with him, she really did. But the pressure was building, twisting inside her. “Hogan.”
“Easy,” he whispered. “Easy, Violet. Let it last.”
On a shattered breath, she gasped, “I can’t,” and then she was coming, her whole body taut, twisting, her head back against the wall as she cried out with the intense sensations clenching inside her.
She vaguely felt Hogan’s surprise, then heard his deep guttural groan, and finally, as he lost control, she got what she wanted.
Just as her climax had started to fade, he drove into her hard and fast and brought her right back there with him again. She locked her ankles around the small of his back, her fingers behind his neck, and trusted him to keep them both upright during the release.