Falling for Mr. Wrong (13 page)

He has no interest in a girl who can’t whip up a loaf of fresh-baked bread with one hand tied behind her back.

“Holy crap, that stings.” Ross flinched and tried to pull his foot away.

Kelsey held tightly to his foot. She had him lying facedown on her moth-eaten sofa so she could attend to the injured area, and was studiously avoiding staring at his butt. Only a few broken rays of sunlight peeked in through the large window in front of the sofa, which was blocked from the view of the street by the overgrown pine that dominated the front yard.

“Stop that, you baby. This is the ‘no sting’ antiseptic. See?” She handed him the bottle.

He made a sound of disgust as he examined the label. “No wonder the kids always cry when I use this on them. Someone needs to sue this company for false advertising.”

A tiny giggle escaped her. “Do you want me to get you a piece of rawhide to bite?”

He took the sock that had been balled up next to the couch and threw it over his shoulder, at her head. She held up her hands to block it. “That’s the thanks I get for playing doctor? Dirty socks thrown at me?”

“Are we playing doctor?”

The timbre of his voice changed, and she felt her cheeks grow hot, even as the lower half of her body went cold.

“Erm…no. Remember? I’m an EMT. So I’m not really playing anything.”

Ross twitched again when she rubbed loose the final piece of gravel that had become embedded in the raw flesh beneath the blister. She squirted a bit of antibiotic cream onto a huge Band-Aid and covered the delicate—but at least now clean—injury.

“Of course. Funny how at one time I hardly believed that,” he mused, his voice only slightly strained as she turned her attention to the other heel. “Now I see that it fits with the whole,
first aid kit in the bathroom and the front seat of my car
thing.”

She winced. “Was that a bit much? I’m sorry. I just figured that now that you were in Colorado, you’d be driving more, and it’s always a good idea to carry the basics out here, in case you run out of gas or get in an accident some distance from a hospital.”

“Of course. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.” The hint of teasing in his voice wasn’t mean, and she smiled. “Then again,” he continued, “you drive so slowly, I can’t imagine you would ever get into an accident. Except maybe if you got rear-ended.”

“I do not drive slowly,” she protested. “I drive
carefully
. There is a difference.”

His other foot hadn’t gotten as dirty, so she was able to patch it up fairly quickly. Just as she finished slipping on the bandage, Ross rolled onto his back. He moved unexpectedly, and she lost her balance and ended up in his lap. His eyes were the deepest blue she’d ever seen, and when she tried to push away, he grabbed her wrists and held her in place.

“Ross, what are you—” She broke off, the searching in his gaze leaving her light-headed and scared. Why did she feel as if he’d been poised on the edge of discovering something about her all day long? Something she didn’t want to share?

“Every time I think I am starting to understand you, you surprise me all over again,” he said. One of his large, warm hands rose to cup the side of her face, and she closed her eyes to let the sensation wash over her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, voice husky with the sudden throb of blood rushing through her veins.

“You make no sense,” he replied. “I watched you at that store today and you don’t want the attention. You aren’t in it for some kind of glory. You are more worried about my blisters getting infected than you are about climbing a mountain where people regularly die through no fault of their own. I read an article about you yesterday in
Outdoor
magazine. You and your dad. I didn’t know you climbed with him. Or that your mother died climbing Annapurna. You didn’t tell me that.”

“Don’t,” she said, catching his hand in hers, shaking her head fiercely. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” he asked.

“Don’t make this something it isn’t.” She leaned forward. “I didn’t bring you here to talk about my parents.”

“Maybe I want to hear about them. Maybe I want to understand you a little. Is that so wrong?”

“Look, I’ve been climbing with my dad since I was a kid. There’s no mystery in it. And yes, my mom died on Annapurna. She turned back from the summit because a storm was moving in and she was worried about me being at base camp alone. My dad was determined to summit, so she let him go. She was being cautious. But cautious doesn’t always protect you up there. Feel free to psychoanalyze that however you want.”

“Whose idea is it?” he asked. “Yours or your dad’s?”

“To do what?”

“To go back there.”

She shifted her position, looking anywhere but into his eyes. “I wouldn’t go if I didn’t want to. Every climber dreams of being up there, above the clouds.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer.

“How about you stop asking questions I don’t want to answer?” She shifted her position, bringing her legs to either side of his hips so she straddled him on the couch. As it always seemed to be with them, the heat was instant. The need overwhelming.

She tipped her pelvis, bringing her core in contact with his. He groaned, grabbed her buttocks, and pushed her down, hard, against him. His muscles were rigid and taut, his arms like steel bands around the curve of her hips. His fingers dug in and the force of his wanting left her giddy.

In the space of a heartbeat, they were insensible with need, blind to anything other than the pulse and throb of their bodies. His arms restricted her movements but brought them even closer and she shifted a few inches, the angle just right to imagine him already inside her.

She hadn’t realized she had closed her eyes until she opened them and found him staring at her, his eyes burrowing a hole right past the shield she’d hastily tried to erect around her soul.

She couldn’t speak.

“What is this thing?” he asked. “What are we doing?”

She leaned forward to cover his mouth with hers, the question too terrible to answer. Because this was nothing, and they both knew it.

They fell into each other, bodies surging, lips meshing. His hand came under her bottom and lifted her up higher before easing her off the couch and onto the soft wool rug that covered the floor. They rolled around until she was on top. She eased up just enough to jerk off her T-shirt, then bra, releasing her breasts into his hands with a shudder and a moan. The air around them was a warm caress. His skin tasted salty and sweet under her tongue. She pulled up his shirt, eased it over his shoulders, and threw it to the ground. Then she leaned forward and licked a path from the hard muscles of his abdomen down to the edge of his waistband.

He jerked against her. “Wait,” he groaned. “Just give me a second.”

She didn’t want to wait. She wanted to be filled and satiated. She leaned forward and dragged her nipples along his chest, the texture of his hair and skin a sweet torture. He growled and grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, not hard enough to hurt but enough to assert control. With a deft motion, he flipped their bodies so he was on top, and pinned her to the ground with his knees. Surveying her like a prize, he dragged a hand over her breasts and pinched one already-oversensitized nipple. She jerked and arched into him.

“Take off your shorts,” he said. “I want to see you.”

Numb with need, she complied, and a moment later she was naked before him. He stood up, removed the rest of his clothes, and pulled something from his wallet before tossing it aside. After sliding the condom over himself, he knelt between her knees and pushed them open. The light spilled onto her naked torso, dipped lower to the flesh between her legs now exposed and naked before him.

Her eyes closed and she sucked in a breath when his mouth traced a line from her navel lower…lower…to the spot where she was already wet and hot but his tongue set on fire. She squirmed and bucked under his ministrations. Her voice caught in her throat, a desperate plea for release trapped between breaths. She was moving, arching, pressing against him. When her mind began to spin and the world grew cloudy, he covered her with his body. His lips were musky with the scent of her, but she drank it in greedily, opening wide underneath him so he could fill her with a single thrust.

It hardly seemed possible that they were two people. His hands rested on either side of her shoulders, his torso a few inches away as he thrust into her with a steady, increasing rhythm. The wool under her back was rough, scratching the sensitive skin, yet somehow the harshness made the perfect merging of their bodies that much sweeter. A spiral of sensation flashed behind her eyes. He groaned and dropped lower, his hips grinding into hers. She bent her knees, raised her hips to allow him to enter even more deeply than before. For a dizzying moment, she thought she might split in half.

And then the world broke apart. He cried out with release. And she was whole.

Chapter Fourteen

“People do this, you know.” Kelsey knew she was pointing out the obvious, but it seemed important to say.

“Have sex?” Ross’s voice rumbled beneath her ear. They remained on the rug, warm bodies nestled together, her head on his chest.

She nodded. “Multiple times, even. With people they have no intention of marrying.”

“And you think we can do that? Be like those people?”

“I don’t see why not.”

He chuckled, and the sound of it made her laugh. Their laughter was the sound of surrender.

“So we just, um, have sex?” he said. “And that’s okay?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Kelsey offered. “Not, like, one hundred percent sure. But pretty sure.”

“I’ll take it,” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Now, any chance you could point me to the bathroom?”

She giggled and rolled off him, pointing toward the hall behind them. “The house is only six hundred square feet. I bet you can find it. We will consider this your first lesson in navigation.”

He tugged on her hair and then stood, flashing his naked bottom on the way to the bathroom. She stretched languorously, feeling an oozing warmth slide from her toes to the top of her head. She refused to second-guess the moment. Her body felt too good for remorse.

Just as her eyes had fallen shut under the weight of her comfort, she heard the sound of the front door opening. Kelsey dove for her shirt.

“Shit!” she hissed under her breath. “Shit, shit, shit!” She jumped to her feet, frantically searching the floor for her shorts. “Is that you, Dad?” she called.

Ross would hear her and realize he needed to stay in the bathroom, she thought, half in prayer, half in fervent belief. With shaking fingers, she located her pants, partway tucked under the couch, and dragged them on. No time for the bra, so she pulled her hair forward in a weak attempt to cover her breasts.

By the time she had clothed herself, her father was already inside the front hall. He held a cardboard box in his arms and wore a gray baseball cap with the Artisan logo on the front pressed low on his forehead. He jumped when he saw her. “I thought you were going to be out all day,” he said. “What are you doing home?”

“You know me, Nervous Nellie.” She forced a laugh. “They were forecasting thunderstorms, so I decided to cut it short. I figure I’ll go to the gym later.”

He frowned. “It didn’t look bad out there to me.”

She shrugged, positioning herself in the entranceway so he didn’t wander into the house. “I know. It had stopped by the time I got to the car. Better safe than sorry, I figured.”

“If you say so. Anyway, our new jackets arrived.” He held up the box. “I thought you’d want me to drop yours off so you could try it on tonight.”

“Oh. Great. Thanks.”

Don’t look behind you. Don’t look guilty.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, squinting suspiciously. His gaze traveled the length of her, and she felt her shoulders hunch under his regard. “You called Artisan, didn’t you?”

“Not yet,” she said. “Just got home.”

Without invitation, he brushed past her and strode into the living room. She followed a few steps behind. Of course he wouldn’t wait for an invitation to come in. He’d never needed one before.

It took Kelsey less than a heartbeat to see Ross’s T-shirt on the carpet and his shorts crumpled in the corner. She winced, but it was too late to do anything. Her father’s steady gaze moved from the clothing to Kelsey’s face, and then back to the clothing.

“What’s this?” he asked evenly.

From the bathroom, there came a rattle, then the steady hiss of her shower.

“Kels?” Ross’s voice called. “Why don’t you join me in here?”

Her father grimaced. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kelsey squared her shoulders. Her eyes slid away, not meeting her father’s distinctly unamused stare.

“We’re leaving in two and a half weeks.” He threw the box on the ground. “You act like this is some kind of joke. Like this is a game we’re playing.”

“I don’t think that. You know I don’t.”

“Who is he?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

Stay in the shower, Ross. Please stay in the shower.

“First you’re babysitting and now this?” His expression darkened. “You know better than to get involved with someone, especially right now.”

“Of course I know that.”

His face softened. “I’m saying this for your own good. You have to be unencumbered out there—clearheaded. You and I both know emotional attachments lead to bad decisions.”

“Babysitting for a few days and having a guy over doesn’t seem so terrible,” she said, fighting for calm.

“Maybe to other people. But we’re different. They can afford to make mistakes. We can’t.”

“I think you should go.” All of the pleasure of the day was gone. The muscles that had once been loose and easy tightened in taut bands around her neck and shoulders. “I’ll call you later, okay?” She started to walk toward the front door, hoping he’d follow without making a bigger scene. Hoping to salvage something of the moment.

His mouth tightened. “Fine. Do what you want.”

He stalked out of the house, temper reasserting itself as he slammed the door behind him

Kelsey sank down onto the couch, her legs shaking. Do what she wanted? That was a good joke.

“Kelsey?”

She jumped. Ross stood at the end of the hall, a towel draped around his waist. He looked dark and potent, a question lingering in his eyes.

“Hey.” She tried for a smile, jumped up, and grabbed the box that now lay in the middle of the room. “Bad time for UPS.”

He did not smile in return. She wondered how much he had heard.

“You should go ahead and shower,” she said, turning away from him to add the box to the stack beside the wall. “I really need to get back to work. I’ve got a million e-mails to return.”

“Kelsey—”

She cut him off with a raised hand. “Don’t,” she said, suddenly tired. “Please don’t.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Then the floor in the hallway creaked, and the door to the bathroom closed. She did not turn around.