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Mr. Dangerous (The Dangerous Delaney Brothers Book 1) by July Dawson (17)

17

Naomi

"Sorry about Mitch," Rob said, putting the seat back all the way.

"You going to nap on the drive back?" I asked. "And you don't have to apologize for Mitch. He was fine."

Rob half-shrugged. I didn't want for him to feel self-conscious about his father; if anything had made me uncomfortable, it had been the evident tension between Rob and Mitch. But family was tough. I had a warm, close-knit family, and even so, I knew well that family could be tough.

"I could make it up to you," he said. "You want to go to a movie?"

"No, thanks."

"You don't go to the movies?"

If it were anyone else, I would have waxed poetic about the ridiculous expenses of a movie theater: ticket prices these days! Popcorn! A second mortgage if you want a Coke too! But since it was Rob, who wouldn't understand, I said, "I don't go on a lot of dates."

Rob quirked an eyebrow, and I felt my heart sink. I was sure girls threw themselves at him constantly. Just look at him. Even with his eyebrow raised at me, which kind of made me want to punch him, he was also so goddamn gorgeous.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "I'm busy."

"But you don't have cable," he said. "And you never go to the movies?"

"I guess I don't get bored like you do."

“I know how to have fun. You could have fun with me... if you'd let yourself."

I hesitated, debating how honest to be. I paired honesty with a flippant tone. "I'm sure I could."

"So what's the problem?"

"Thanks for the Kindle," I said. "I'm looking forward to reading tonight."

"Reading tonight? By yourself?"

"Well." I squinted ahead at the line of traffic, wondering if I'd already missed the on-ramp for the highway. Rob was so distracting.

"Oh, right, you'll have the cats."

"Yep." I said. "I'd rather hang out with the cats."

"Burn," Rob said, mildly, which reminded me for some reason of the lanky, self-possessed boy he'd been, the boy who got along with everyone.

The memory of the first time he sat next to me on the bus rose up like a specter. Rob’s handsome face splitting into a grin as he slid onto the black vinyl bench. I’d grabbed my bag out of his way, pulling it onto my lap, but my stomach had twisted because I thought it was a joke. Then I'd given into his smile and felt a surge of joy, breathing in the scent of his aftershave as his shoulder brushed mine.

Good lord. I couldn't get over the bus. From high school. What was wrong with me?

"I'd still like to make this whole weird trip up to you," Rob said. "What about Nantucket? What if we went for a weekend?"

"You want me to go away with you for a weekend?"

"Why not?"

"That’s not a reason," I said, letting my frustration show. The worst part was that of course I liked the idea: some whirlwind, impulsive trip to Nantucket, letting Rob charm me. I could kiss that unbelievably sweet mouth and run my hands over his powerful, muscled body, drinking in my fill of him. We could pretend for a weekend that anything could happen.

But anything couldn’t happen. I’d already had reckless, wild sex with him. I had to blush remembering how I’d betrayed all my feelings as I straddled him, desperate for his mouth and hands and cock. Soon, Rob would be gone, and I'd be left aching, wanting, regretting. I couldn’t let myself get addicted to him.

"There's lots of good reasons," Rob said. "You've never been. It's beautiful. The food is amazing. You work too hard, you could use some time away..."

"Rob. You're my work. Going away with you to get away from work? That's not actually a vacation."

"I'm not work," Rob said. "Maybe my house, but--"

"You're work." I shut him down, suddenly furious. Not at him, but at the way I wanted him. Even as Rob settled his big frame back in his seat, his irritation evident before he relaxed, staring out the window, I felt pulled towards him. God. He was so sexy. And so exhausting.

I couldn't stand having him mad at me any more than I could stand it when he flirted with me.

"Sorry," I said. "I'm just tired. You're right. It was a rough trip."

"I'm sorry too," he said.

I didn't ask him why. The memory of that apology on his lips, the way he had murmured sorry into my hair as our bodies slid together, still made my heart race.

If he were really sorry about what had happened in the past, could the future look different?

At the house in Rhode Island, two hours later, Rob slipped from the passenger side as soon as I put the Suburban into park. It was evening, the sky turning pink above the ocean, and I needed to go home. Alice had been taking care of my cats, but they didn't like anyone as much as they liked me. They would meow demandingly as soon as they heard my key in the lock.

Rob made a dash back across the circular driveway towards me, holding up a brown Amazon box from the doorway like a prize above his head.

I swung down from the car. "I need to go home," I told him, the words coming out a bit flatter, a bit more curt, than I meant. "It's been a long day. You need anything? Before I go?"

His handsome face fell, just slightly. "Not tonight. You get some rest."

I hesitated, now that he'd tucked the box back under his bicep.

"What's in the box?"

"My cast cover," he said. "I can swim."

"Rob," I said. "Tell me you aren't planning to go for a swim tonight."

His face took on a mischievous innocence. "I'm not planning to go for a swim tonight?"

"You're hurt. You can't go on an ocean swim, alone, at night. It's not smart."

"I thought we covered, in excruciating detail, how I'm not the smart one in our pairing."

"Not a pair," I said.

"Joe says we're just alike."

"I'm sure," I retorted, wondering when he and Joe had this conversation about our future. "Rob. Promise me."

"No promises.” He shrugged. "You go home, you don't know what'll happen – will I be here in the morning, will I be washed out to sea..."

"Oh, I know. You'll be here, waiting for me to make your eggs."

"And bacon."

I sighed again, exasperated. Part of me didn't want to leave. Rob was exhausting, he was work, but he was also exciting. It was fun to be around him. But I needed time to recover. I couldn't get a grip when I had to look at him, all that gorgeousness and hard-muscled masculinity,

"I could die," Rob deadpanned. "Imagine how that would ruin high school reunions. I could have saved Rob Delaney's life, but I really wanted to re-read Girl Adrift."

"Oh my god," I said. "And you ask me why you're so much work."

Rob grinned devilishly back, knowing he had won.

Half an hour later, we stood at the edge of the ocean, cold water lapping our toes.

"Race you to the buoy," he said.

"Like I said, not everything's a competition."

"That's because you know you'll lose."

"Well, yes," I said drily, as he splashed forward into the surf. I followed reluctantly. Cold water washed over my chest, cold enough to take my breath away.

He turned. “Damn, it’s cold. It’s okay if it’s too cold for you.”

That made me wade resolutely forward.

I finally gave up and flung myself forward into the waves. Ahead of me, I could see Rob’s powerful arms churning the water; as big and muscular as he was, he glided through the water like a dolphin. Then he popped up ahead of me, shaking water out of his face, his dark hair spiky.

"You're gorgeous," he said.

"Apropos of nothing." I said. I liked it when he told me I was pretty, and I was afraid he knew that.

"What?" he asked. "You don't think I'm gorgeous, too?"

Before I could make a crack back, he took off for the buoy, his arms slicing through the water.

His freestyle was still perfect.

When we were tired of swimming, we laid on the sun-warmed wood of the deck to dry out.

The sun lit the horizon, gold reflected deep into the blue water. “I’d forgotten how beautiful the sunset is here.”

“Maybe you should come back to Newport more often,” I said.

“Maybe,” he said.

His eyes were on my lips. I kept my gaze on the horizon, ignoring the thrum of desire that vibrated through my body. That had been one foolish night, making love to Rob. I wasn’t going to lose myself in him again. Because I was afraid I would lose myself in him forever.

"Hot tub?" he asked, sitting up.

I should go home, but instead I found myself nodding. “I’m freezing.”

“Your lips are a little purple,” Rob said, leaning in towards me. He touched my back to usher me ahead of him to the hot tub, and I shied away from his touch, even when I wanted to lean into him.

"Can you get that side of the cover?" I asked.

Instead he hip-checked me aside playfully and pulled the cover off himself, setting it down on the side of the deck. I went to work pushing dials and knobs until the hot tub whirred to life.

"Why does it bother you when I say you’re pretty?” he asked, sitting on the smooth edge of the tub.

I settled beside him, the warm water massaging my calves, and looked out at the ocean. “I don’t know.”

"I don't mind when people compliment me."

"And thank God for that, hometown hero."

"You still holding Amy against me?" He bumped my shoulder playfully. "And Kate?"

"Kate? How did Kate get into this.”

"I thought you might be mad about prom."

I laughed. "Prom? Prom was ten years ago! Who could still be mad about prom?"

He waited me out. The silence stretched between us, a silence full of things unsaid. I admitted, "Still furious about prom."

"I knew it!"

"Not about prom, necessarily. It was the whole thing. The way you approached me like you liked me and then suddenly shut down on me."

"I did like you. I had the biggest crush on you."

I raised my hands in exasperation. "So what happened?"

"I thought we already discussed this," he said. "I'm happy to talk about your feelings, but mine, no. I'm meh on talking about my feelings."

"Oh no," I said. "You started this."

"I don't know." He hunched his big shoulders slightly, the movement sexy as hell. He watched his toes as they moved in slow, languid circles through the water. “That was around the time things went bad with my dad. I was trying to get my brothers to keep their chins up, trying to figure out how I could make sure I never turned out like my dad. I didn't have time for girls."

"You had time for Kate, though."

"Kate was different."

"Sure. Classically beautiful. In your social sphere. She went to Yale, didn't she?"

"That's not how Kate was different."

"Oh, that's certainly how Kate is different."

"I didn't like her like I like you." He paused, smiled playfully. "Liked you."

"Uh huh."

"My dad crawled out of the wreckage of his car and left his girlfriend behind," he said bluntly. "But it wasn't just that. He fought her on helping with her medical bills. Wouldn't take any responsibility. He told me, you'll understand when you're older, son, I'm doing what I have to do to take care of our family."

"Did she sue him?"

He nodded. "Not that it helped. There's still that part of you, when you're a kid, that wants to believe in your parents. I was trying to take care of my family, my brothers, when they didn’t have anyone all of a sudden."

"And you didn't have time for romance." For me. My eyes were intent on the ocean, on the deep blue spread before us and the waves breaking against the rocks at the edge of the beach.

Rob leaned into me. He touched my jaw with one finger, turning my face to look at him.

"It wasn't about time. I didn't want to have you while I didn't know if I was worth having."

I could feel his finger against my jaw as I swallowed hard. "It still comes back to time. There isn't enough time now."

"It's time enough to make up for what happened before," he said. "What we both missed out on." He traced his finger up my jawline, the touch sending jolts of electricity down my spine. "Twenty-three more days to convince you that you're beautiful."

I gently folded his hand in mine. "I'm not looking for twenty-three days, Rob."

"You're going to see me every day," he said. "It's going to be pretty hard not to fall in love with me."

I climbed out of the tub, wrapping a towel around my body.

"I know," I said. "Believe me, I know."

He swung his legs out of the hot tub. "What if it wasn't just twenty-three days? What if we saw each other after that?"

I stopped, dripping wet splatters across the tile. "Rob."

"I mean it," he said. "There are these things now. Phones. And planes. Neither of us would have to give up our lives to have each other."

"I don't think you'd want me part-time," I said.

"I'd rather have you part-time than not at all."

The words hung between us.

I gave him a long look.

"What if I told you that I've never gotten over the way things went in high school. The mistake I made. The way I let you go without kissing you, not once."

Reluctantly, I said, "I think you know I've never gotten over it either."

He took the edge of my towel from where I held it up, twisted, in one hand. He tugged me towards him.

"Naomi," he murmured. "Come here and kiss me."

From this near him, I could feel the heat off his body. I rested my hand tentatively on his broad shoulder. Beneath my palm, his droplet-sprinkled skin radiated heat. The expanse of muscle under my hand was so distinctly masculine. He was so foreign and yet so familiar.

"I've always loved this little bow in your lips," Rob said, touching the top of my lip. The intimate touch sent a shiver down my spine. "It's perfect in profile, too. I used to love watching you, watching out the bus window."

I smiled, felt my lips part under his fingers. "I used to catch you watching me."

"And every time," he said, "I wanted to kiss this little dip."

"And yet here you are, still wasting time," I teased.

He shook his head faintly, his eyes warm and intent. He slid a finger under the strap of my bathing suit, tugged me even nearer. My breasts and stomach pressed into his defined abs, the bottom of his pecs. I slipped my hand up his shoulder to his neck, let my fingers wrap around the back of his neck, just where his military-short black hair began.

"I love this, too," he said, tracing my jawline in a way that made me want to throw my head back and press my body into his even harder. "This stubborn little chin of yours. The perfect contrast to the sweetness of your mouth."

"Hmm."

He lowered his head so his breath came out against my hair. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't mind this as much as I usually mind being complimented."

"Well, then, let's continue the inventory.” He touched my cheek, his fingers tracing the edge of my forehead, down to the corner of my eye. "You know, thanks to the Navy, I've gotten to see the world. But I've never seen another set of eyes like yours. They give you away. You always try to be so tough, not to need anyone. But they're filled with honey and warmth. Just like you really are."

My lips quirked up. "I don't know that I'd bet on that."

"Well, I am," he said.

His eyes on mine were so intense, so smoldering, that I couldn't take it anymore. But I didn't want to run away from him anymore, either.

So it was only for a few weeks. The heat between us couldn't be denied, and right now I didn’t care how much it inevitably hurt later. I couldn't stand to spend another minute not touching him.

I bounced up onto my toes, tugging down on his neck, and he came easily with me. His gorgeous blue eyes drifted shut as he leaned in. I kept my eyes open, wanting to drink in every bit of him: the lashes that rested against his cheeks now, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, the soft pink lips above that hard jaw. I pressed my lips into his, and found them even softer and warmer than my teenage fantasies.

His lips parted under mine. Greedily, he scooped me up against his body with his good arm. I felt my toes lift off the ground and smiled into his kiss. How could he pick me up so easily, one armed, to the edge of the hot tub?

His warm body pressed against mine, hard and muscular. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he leaned in. His kiss deepened, his mouth firm beneath the soft lips. His questing tongue found its way inside my mouth, and I moaned. Before Rob, I’d never felt anyone French-kiss me in a way that sparked a sudden ache between my legs.

He rocked back slightly, grinning, and I pressed myself forward into him.

"Like I said," he whispered. "All warmth and honey."

Then he was kissing me again. "Let's go inside so the neighbors don't end up with too much to talk about."

I twined my arms around his neck, and he lifted me up, cradled against his chest. His mouth was soft and warm on mine as we crossed the deck, and Rob didn't even look up to fumble with the door. Then we were through, my hair brushing against the doorway briefly, and he swept with me across the floor and towards the stairs.

Rob carried me into his bedroom, and I laughed as he deposited me onto the bed.

"Rob, no, we're both soaked," I protested. I scrambled back off the sheets to stand in the middle of his room.

He shook his head. "I'm going to have to hire a housekeeper to pick up after you."

"I thought you didn't want anyone but me waiting on you."

"Waiting isn't what I want from you," he said. He slid his hand under my jaw and turned my mouth back up to him, kissing me hungrily. "The floor, then? Am I allowed to have you on the floor?"

In response, I tugged his big shoulders down. "You're crazy.”

"You do have that effect. You should see yourself. Maybe that'd convince you; pink-cheeked from the swim, this glossy dark hair of yours." He touched the wet braid falling haphazardly over my shoulder. I smiled teasingly at him, pulled at my own swimsuit straps. His breath caught at the sight of my pale breasts. "God, yes. I want to see all of you."

I tugged at his t-shirt. "Equality."

Grinning, he sat up and pulled his t-shirt over his head with one smooth motion. Rob's shoulders were broad and faintly freckled, his abs a chiseled six-pack. A small V of dark curls stood out between his muscled pecs, the pink of his nipples standing out against the deep brown of his tan. I felt drawn to kiss his shoulders.

I struggled out of my swimsuit. He traced a finger across the side of my breast, and longing and ecstasy coursed through me, so intense that I turned my face up towards the ceiling, unable to handle how much I wanted Rob, all of Rob, right then.

"I'm going to start making up for lost time," he promised.

He kissed my neck, and I grinned, almost relieved to feel the way his lips tickled against my skin, a break from the sheer sexual wanting. "What's funny?" he murmured, his voice rich with pleasure.

"That tickles," I said, "And also, I think I'm going to die if I don't get your cock in me right now."

That made him laugh out loud himself. "Oh, Naomi. I do love your honesty."

"So does that mean I'm going to get what I want?" I asked, running my fingers over his shoulders.

"Eventually," he promised.

"Rob, no...." I murmured, as he pushed himself back, his lean legs braced on either side of me. I half sat-up, reaching for his cock, and he pushed my hand away. Instead, he rolled my swimsuit further down, over my hips, down my thighs. The damp spandex finally came away easily as he reached my knees, and I kicked it away over one ankle. "Just come here.”

"You are demanding," he noted, his fingers stroking across my inner thigh. My spine arched in response involuntarily.

"I told you what I wanted." I ran a hand over his shoulder, my palm finding the place where his neck and shoulder joined, so warm and muscular and intimate.

"Mm, but I don't think that's what you need," he said. "You need to learn to let someone love you. To think you're beautiful. To adore your body. To do things for you... to you..."

"Are you seriously psychoanalyzing me right now?"

"Nope," he said. As I reached for him again, he took my wrists and brought them together, holding them in one of his big hands, and then leaned over me, pinning my hands above my head. "I'm done talking. Keep your hands there."

"Or what?" I'd meant my tone to sound playful, arch, but my voice came out breathless.

"Naomi Anne Papadopolous," he murmured into my ear, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't want to test me. I'm very serious about making sure you enjoy yourself."

I felt a shiver of desire. I thought maybe I did indeed want to test him, and I pursed my lips at him as he grinned. He patted my hands commandingly, then moved back down my body, dropping kisses down my neck, across my breasts. His lips pressed into the soft curve of my belly. I groaned aloud as his lips touched my inner thigh.

"Does that tickle?" he asked huskily, but now I was done talking.

His searching mouth kissed his way from my thigh to my inner lips, and I almost jumped out of my skin with both desire and nervousness. I’d never had a man go down between my thighs like that before.

"You don't have to do that." I wanted to reach down and pull him up, but I kept my hands where Rob had put them. Rob looked up at me over the rise of my hips and stomach, his eyes smoldering.

"I want to," he said. "I love the taste of your lips on mine, Naomi. I want to know how every bit of you tastes."

He pressed his lips to my center, and I made a small sound of surprise and desire. Rob kissed me, slowly, his mouth parting, his tongue seeking. I groaned as his tongue found a steady rhythm, pumping in and out, and I found myself melting with desire. My fingers curled in the carpet, seeking purchase; the sensation of his mouth on me was so powerful, sending waves of desire through my body, that I almost couldn't bear it. I tried to pull my hips away from him, and his strong arms latched over my thighs, holding me tight as the sensation built up, pleasure so intense it was almost pain and then suddenly, just pleasure, a wash of pleasure as powerful as the roll of the ocean waves.

When I fell loose-limbed and languid on the carpet, the orgasm ebbing away, leaving my clit swollen and sensitive, I thought I couldn't bear being touched anymore. Rob touched my cheekbone lightly, his face self-satisfied. "You're flushed.”

"That was nice," I admitted. “I hadn’t realized.”

"You've never had anyone do that for you before?" he asked, his tone disbelieving.

I shook my head.

"What's wrong with some men? Well, I'm glad I got to be the first, then. I love the way you taste, Naomi. Every bit of you is delicious." He leaned in, his handsome face so close to mine, and I turned my face to kiss him. His lips carried a foreign, smoky taste, something I'd never had in my mouth before. It was nicer than I'd thought it would be.

His hand brushed across my stomach, and I stopped him with my fingers on his wrist. "I can't. Not yet. Let me do something for you."

"Oh, Naomi.” He kissed my hairline, his thumb on my chin. “You do everything for me."