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The past week had been sheer hell. Somehow Sydney and Dylan had gotten their clichéd roles reversed. She wanted sex, and he had a constant headache. Tonight made their eighth night together in a row. A solid week of being together, and to her shock, she loved spending time with the man. The celibacy she could have done without, but his company actually made the trouble of seducing him worth it.

She only had herself to blame, though. She’d insisted on a casual relationship. Just friends. Without benefits, apparently. Who knew the man would be so literal? He called her just to talk during lunch, and they’d resumed their discussions about any and everything.

Eight days of seeing, laughing with, and being with Derrick, with no sex.

They walked around the fairgrounds, the lights of the carnival rides giving the night a special glow. Together, they watched families laughing, children playing and teenagers daring each other to ride everything from the speedy Himalaya to the vomit-inducing Vortex.

He’d won her a stuffed kitten. She’d beaten him ringing the bell at the strongman booth, which she found hilarious. He’d taken her ribbing with good humor, which didn’t surprise her. Derrick Warren was an easy man to like. He had a great sense of humor and a gracious heart. When a small boy bumped into him and dropped his ice cream on Derrick’s shoe, Derrick bought him a new one. Not one complaint about swirly strawberry all over his boots, or that the kid had barreled into him, not the other way around.

“Cotton candy?” Derrick nodded to a booth in front of them. “You’ve been eyeing the pink stuff all night.”

Actually, she’d imagined rolling Derrick in the stuff and licking it off bit by bit.

She must have given him a look because he practically ran toward the booth. She rolled her eyes and followed. Her secret weapons seemed to be working. The form-fitting jeans and low-neck peach sweater she wore had garnered her breasts and ass more lingering attention from Derrick than she’d had all week.

“Hey honey.” She turned. A large man sitting at a picnic table with his friends waved at her. “Need a friend?”

“She’s got one,” Dylan answered from over her shoulder.

“Bummer.” The guy shrugged and turned back to his friends.

She let him steer her away and accepted the stick of cotton candy, thrilled at his possessiveness despite her resolve to keep things casual. Though she’d insisted they not hold hands, hug or do any of those other relationship things, she allowed him to grab onto her hand just this once. She liked his large, warm grip. The feel of calluses reminded her he worked for a living. Those muscles in his arms, chest and thighs weren’t just from a gym.

“Mmm,” she moaned and licked at the confection, pleased when his gaze locked on her mouth. His eyes darkened and his breathing grew raspy. Was it evil to seduce him? No. Not when the man hadn’t said yes all friggin’ week.

There had been a few kisses, some heavy petting, that iron-hard bulge between his legs tempting her to grab hold, and then he’d pull away and find some lame excuse to leave for the night. He was killing her!

“Stop it.” His voice was husky. “You’re putting bad thoughts in the minds of men and teenage boys everywhere.”

“How about yours? You thinking bad thoughts, Father Warren?”

“Father...? Oh, very funny. Though come to think of it, I would make a fine priest. I did make you shout out for God not too long ago. God, please. Oh God, yes,” he mimicked in falsetto. “Harder, deeper, dear God...”

Now he had her flushing. “Shut up, you idiot.”

He snickered. “Serves you right. Now how about the Vortex? You game for that?”

She involuntarily squeezed his hand as she took a good, hard look at the monstrous roller coaster.

“Chicken,” he baited.

“Please. I can take anything you dish out, little man.”

“Not so little around you,” he muttered, but she heard him all the same.

Which increased her resolve. “If you want me up on that thing, I want something from you first.”

He frowned, wary. “What?”

She stepped away, heading for one of the trailers set apart from the rides. She walked behind it for a little privacy, pleased as punch it sheltered them from the glare of carnival lights. Even the moon seemed to have disappeared behind a cloud, giving her the sign to go for it. When he rounded the corner, she grabbed him with her free hand and yanked him closer.

“I want a kiss.” And I want to come. She plastered her mouth to his and tried to steal every thought from that handsome head.

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Derrick was so tired of trying to be good. Doing the right thing had never been so hard. Painfully hard. He shifted, wishing for some relief from the erection that had been plaguing him for eight days, two hours, and twenty-seven minutes—last time he’d checked his watch.

The little witch had the nerve to suck on that cotton candy and lick her lips like she was playing with his cock.

He knew she’d been teasing him, goading him to fuck her. But he was sticking to the plan now. Trying to keep things simple as he got to know her better.

The taste of sweet candy on her lips made him groan, and he tried to think about all he’d learned about Sydney to prevent himself from fucking her against the trailer at the damn carnival.

The woman didn’t like to lose. She cheated at mini golf, and she played cards almost as well as he did. Thank God he’d been taught by his father, or he feared he would have lost that last bet last night and had to strip down to nothing. Then he would have fucked her for sure.

Instead, he’d won a kiss from the woman. He’d kept it short and chaste—as chaste as the temptress would let it be. Christ, everything she did with that mouth reminded him of sex.

She moaned and curled her tongue around his, sucking him in. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, past the long-sleeved T-shirt he’d worn tonight. Despite her sweater, they might as well have been naked for all the sensation he felt. His nipples were hard, and he wanted nothing more than to shove inside her.

“More,” she ordered and breathed against his lips. She trailed kisses over his cheek to his ear, where she nibbled on his lobe.

He tensed, the pole in his pants two seconds from shooting off. “Stop that.” The little tease knew how much he liked it when she did that.

“I will if you fuck me. Come on, Derrick. I dare you.”

She kissed him again, and he almost said to hell with it. He could pleasure her and still keep things uncomplicated.

She sucked hard on his tongue, and he knew he lied to himself. The woman made him forget his plans, to just fuck her until they couldn’t think. But not thinking had always gotten him into trouble before. And he didn’t want problems with Sydney. He wanted her falling for him, so that eventually, when he did screw up, she’d stick around.

She moaned, and  damn if she didn’t test his willpower every second he spent with her.

“Oh, Derrick. Baby.” She rained kisses all over his cheeks.

Before he forgot his good intentions, he quickly pulled away and pasted a smile on his face.

“So, hot stuff. How do you want it?” She licked her lips and reached for the top button on his jeans.

His cock twitched. “I want it pink.” He grabbed her hand holding the treat and brought the cotton candy to his mouth. He took a large bite. Then he nodded toward the ride. “And high. The Vortex. My turn.”

“Seriously?”

Ignoring her disappointment, he grabbed her hand and yanked her back into the crowd. While they waited in line to go up, he told himself he could handle unfulfilled Sydney fantasies a while longer.  Every day he fell a little harder for her, and he liked the feeling. And if he wasn’t mistaken, the stubborn commitment-phobe was falling too.

She leaned closer to murmur, “You can’t run forever, Derrick.” She glanced down at his crotch and smirked. “One day soon, I’m going to collect.”

He smiled. “Yeah? I’ll look forward to it.” He would have said do your worst, but even he wasn’t that much of a masochist. He could barely handle her now.

They stepped up, next to ride the Vortex. He caught her muttered swearing, most of it directed at him. Then he sat with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit and took another bite of cotton candy, all the while wondering where they’d go tomorrow, and how hard it would be to continue to avoid sleeping with Sydney without losing his mind.

♥

“Dylan, I’m in trouble.” A week later, Derrick sat in his twin’s condo with his head in his hands.

“Tell me.”

“She’s all I can think about. We spent the past two weeks dating and not dating.”

“Which is it?” Dylan stretched and yawned. Dressed in designer striped pajama bottoms, the guy should have looked like the biggest jerkwad in the world. All he needed to complete the outfit was a smoker’s robe. But he wore Derrick’s face, and truth to tell, he looked better than the dude on the advertisement wearing the same pajama pants. Not that Derrick intended to tell Dylan that.

“We’re keeping it casual. At least, that’s what she and I agreed to do. But we’ve been on several dates, and we haven’t had sex since that quickie in the house down from mine.”

“So you’re both attracted to each other, and you’re spending time together, but neither of you has admitted to wanting a steady relationship with the other. Is that about right?”

Dylan sat across from him in a deep leather chair. Sydney would love it here. All designerish and matching. Dylan’s furniture looked a lot nicer than Derrick’s. No wonder his brother had no problem finding a date. Between his face and this pad, his many boyfriends and girlfriends made sense. Hell, Derrick couldn’t even think about fucking another woman, not if she didn’t have Sydney’s hair, Sydney’s face or Sydney’s body.

“Derrick, focus.”

“Uh, kind of.  We’re casual, I guess.” He couldn’t sleep when he wasn’t with her. How fucked up was that?

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

Dylan grinned. “I think it’s time I met her. The Halloween party is tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So let me be you. I’ll feel her out for you.” The sly look on Dylan’s face meant more than Derrick felt comfortable with.

“You touch her and I’ll break both your arms.”

“Sure. You’re casual. Right.” Dylan shook his head. “You’ve hit bottom, brother. Rock bottom. You’re in love with the woman. It’d be terrific news if you weren’t so stupid about it.”

“Fuck off.”

“Please. You came here looking for advice. The fact that you actually used Mom to get closer to Sydney is telling. What we know about your redhead—she has commitment issues. Her mother was never there for her and she goes through men like you go through women.” Dylan’s lips quirked. “Or should I say, how you used to go through women?”

“Don’t be a Dick.” Even though he was right. “How do you know about her mother?”

“Hailey, Mom and I talk about more than Gage and wedding plans.”

“Really?” Derrick narrowed his gaze. “What do you say about me?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yeah.”

Dylan sighed. “You want what Mom and Dad had, but you’re afraid you’ll never find a woman that special. So you go out of your way to find unsuitable prospects like Brittney, the March twins, Gina...shall I go on?”

“Oh sure thing, Dr. Freud. This is fascinating.” And oddly on the money.

“Your dates are all, on the surface, perfect for you. Beautiful, successful and usually wealthy, because you don’t want a woman who desires you for your money. You’re susceptible to the same needs most of us have. You want to be valued for yourself.”

“No shit.”

“But instead of taking a chance on a real woman you can connect with, you settle for tepid sexual relationships you end within weeks, because God forbid you find a woman you might fall in love with. I think Brittney lasted the longest. What, a month and a half?”

Derrick shrugged. At the time of their breakup, he’d actually felt bad. She’d seemed torn-up when he’d ended it, right before she’d called him an asshole and kicked his ass out of her apartment. The next time he’d seen her, she’d been pleasant. Even friendly. A woman like Brittney would find another man easily, so he hadn’t thought twice about her. But after what she’d done to Sydney, he never wanted to see the woman again. “She gave great head, but she got clingy.”

“And she paraded you around like a prize poodle. I hadn’t seen that one coming. She seemed too mature for that.”

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t. Mature, yeah, and self-centered.” Derrick sighed. “For all that we had a few good times, and some great sex, everything came back to Brittney. I’d hoped that might not be the case, but I pegged it. Didn’t I bet you she was too hot to be single when we started dating? That there had to be something wrong with her? I won twenty bucks, remember?”

“Right. Never bet against you. I should know by now you never lose. Unless we’re talking about one woman in particular, because you have no idea what you’re doing with Sydney.”

“Up yours.” Derrick shot Dylan the finger.

His brother grinned and shot it right back.

Derrick sighed. “So what do I do? I have a bad feeling I really like Sydney, but she wants nothing to do with a boyfriend, let alone a—” He stopped himself short from saying husband, shocked to realize his thoughts had graduated to that line of thinking. In a hoarse voice, he continued, “I’m no good at this shit. With women, it’s a cycle. We date, we fuck, we try to connect. Then we always end up going our separate ways. But with Sydney, I actually like hanging out and not having sex. It’s weird.”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “Not having sex with a woman is not weird, you Neanderthal. It’s normal.”

“Yeah, if you’re gay.”

“Fuckwad.” Dylan scowled. “It’s normal if you’re straight too. I’ve been out with plenty of men and women, and we spend time together getting to know one another, not just in bed.”

“So why aren’t you married?”

“Because I’m exactly like you. I’m afraid of not finding anyone who will match me the way Dad matched Mom. When he passed, it was hard on all of us. But Mom suffered so much.” Dylan grew quiet, and they shared the memories of their mother crying day after day, suffering a deep and lasting depression.

“James helped her out of it.”

Dylan blinked. “I’m surprised you know that.”

Derrick frowned. “I may be self-absorbed at times, but I know Mom. James is her best friend. Hell, she tells him shit about us all the time.”

Dylan grimaced. “I know. I hate that. It’s one thing when Mom analyzes me, but I don’t like it when James does. He’s almost fatherly about it. It creeps me out.” He pursed his lips but didn’t speak.

“What?”

“Nothing. Something I need to talk to James about. My point about you—and me—is that we’re basically the same. Only I’m mature and smart enough to understand my issues. Instead of solving my problems with meaningless sex—”

“Orgasms aren’t meaningless, Poindexter. They’re pretty damned good. Especially with Sydney.”

“—I look at life with my eyes wide open. I’m not turning away from the possibility of a meaningful relationship. I just need the right person.”

“I still think it’s weird you like dudes.”

Dylan grinned, and Derrick cringed, anticipating what his brother would say. “You think Brittney gave good head, you should let a man do it to you. We know our own equipment better than they ever can.”

“Fuck, Dylan. TMI.”

The bastard had the nerve to laugh. “Hey, I’m equal opportunity. Women too. If I met a woman who looked at me the way Hailey looks at Gage, I’d snap her up in a heartbeat.” He sobered. “So pay attention to Sydney. You’ve never fallen for a woman before her. You want to win her or what?”

Derrick wished he needed to think about it more, but the answer came out way too easily. “Hell, yes.”

“Then listen to what I tell you. And whatever you do, don’t ask Mom for more advice. She thinks like a woman, but with Sydney, you need someone who thinks like a man. Your girl has the same instincts you do when it comes to relationships. Trust me on this.”

“Yeah, but Mom was right about not having sex with Sydney. And no, I can’t believe I just said that.” He made a face. “I can just imagine laying on her couch and telling her I did Sydney doggie style. Christ.”

“I doubt she wants those kinds of details.” Dylan shook his head. “She’s into the emotional aftereffects, dumbass. We’re not perverts, Derrick. We’re therapists. Problem is, Mom should know better than to work on family.”

“Then shouldn’t you?”

“No, because giving you advice is like giving myself advice. Now shut up and listen.”