Jill Shalvis - Bared

She’d never looked for trouble a single day of her life, and yet here she was herself, courting it. Right upstairs were their rooms where they could go and finish what they started.

She could be in his arms for an entire night…Oh, yes, definitely trouble as she’d never experienced it before.

Her body hummed in anticipation, her pulse thumped a dull, heavy beat that echoed in her ears. Even her skin twitched, along with every erogenous zone in her body, of which there appeared to be more than she could have imagined.

“My sisters would love this place.” Rafe looked around him at the walls that had historical prints and antique mining tools mounted on them.

This fascinated her, the thought of Rafe as a family man. “Do you see them a lot?”

“When I’m home. Which I rarely am.” He smiled. “But yeah, we hang out. We like each other. Or we did.” He laughed. “Now that I’ll be home more, I’ll be in their hair driving them crazy, making them wonder why they ever wanted me to travel less.”

“How will you drive them crazy?”

His smile widened just a bit wickedly. “Oh, I’ll have fun torturing Carolyn’s dates. I can’t do that to Tessa anymore-she’s married with a baby on the way-but I’ll find ways to get her, too. I’ll probably buy my soon-to-arrive niece or nephew a drum set or a tuba.”

“But…those are loud instruments.”

“Yeah.” He grinned so disarmingly that she found herself grinning back.

“I’m trying to imagine you as an obnoxious brother,” she said.

“I’m good at it.”

“What do they do back to you?”

“Mostly just keep track of my every indiscretion. They say they’re going to use it all against me someday when I have a wife and kids.”

He didn’t look worried, but…happy. She tried to imagine the sort of easy love he was describing. It didn’t apply to her own family. “I used to pretend my sister and I were like that,” she said. “Close. Loving.”

“I thought all twins were close.”

“Oh, we’re close.” She frowned into her wine. Close as in she was always there for Amber.

But who was there for her? “Just in a different sort of way,” she said.

“Such as one of you needing the other one to constantly get her out of messes?”

“She’s not a bad person.”

“Not at all,” he agreed, and his fingers stroked hers. “But if I had to guess, it’s got to be more of a parental relationship, with you being the parent.”

That was it exactly. “Yes.”

Bringing their joined hands up to his mouth, he kissed her palm, and brought her flutters right back. “What about your parents?”

“My dad died before we were born. And my mother…She’s a writer, too. Literary fiction,” she clarified. “The important stuff. What we do confuses her. I guess I can see that-having one daughter who tends to take off her clothes for the camera, any camera, and another daughter who wastes trees for a living-”

He gaped and tightened his fingers on her hand. “Your mother said your writing is a waste of trees?”

“Well-” she laughed, embarrassed to have let that slip “-all she meant was that what she does is very different than what I do.”

“Uh-huh. I wonder if you translated your ratings into readers, how many millions you’d beat her by.”

“She has a Pulitzer.”

“And you’re writing for television. Does she realize how hard that is?”

“All I’m saying is that sometimes we…disappoint her,” she said. “Granted, Amber more often than me, but-”

“So, as a result, you spend your time running around covering Amber’s ass.”

“Yes, but at least she loves me for it.”

“I’m sure she does. But Emma, who’s there when you need someone?”

She stared at him, a little dismayed to have him cut right to her inner turmoil so effortlessly. “I-I don’t know.” She pulled her hand free and rubbed her temple. “I don’t think about it like that.”

His eyes never left her as he took her hand back and lightly scraped his teeth over the fleshy part of her palm before soothing it with the tip of his tongue.

All her bones dissolved. “Rafe.”

He did it again.

Her mouth went dry and she gulped down some water as her thoughts jumped ahead to what could happen next. Would he kiss her? Would he touch her-

“What are you thinking?” He stopped her nervous fingers from playing with the condensation on her glass by putting his hand over hers.

What was she thinking? She was thinking how he would feel filling her body. “Um…Well.” A knowing light came into his eyes and she had to let out a little laugh that was a good part nerves. “Why ask if you already know?”

Cocking his head, he studied her with those eyes that seemed to see right through her exterior to the real Emma beneath. The one that wanted to toss the “research” facade out the window and admit she wanted him. She just wanted him, plain and simple.

And she wanted him to want her back, plain and simple. No complications, no emotional ties, nothing to bog it down, even while she knew that there was nothing plain and simple about this at all.

All around them were people dining, paying them no attention whatsoever, but she leaned in. “What’s going to happen?”

“What do you want to happen?”

“Everything,” she said honestly, and blinked when he choked out a laugh.

“God, Emma.” He squeezed her fingers. “Do you have any idea what your honesty does to me?”

“No, but I know what all these thoughts are doing to me.” She showed him the goose bumps on her arms, leaning back to do so, but noticed that his gaze landed on her breasts instead. Her nipples had responded to both his presence and her thoughts, pebbling hard against the material of her sweater as if begging for attention.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the look on his face, but the room started to spin. “Oh boy. I hope our food comes soon.”

“Emma.” His voice was hoarse. “Tell me you aren’t too toasted for this, because I plan to slowly strip you so I can taste every single inch of you, something I can’t do if you’re tipsy.”

“Why not?” She heard the wispy hopefulness in her voice. Later she could be horrified by that, but right now, with the room spinning feverishly and her body hot and achy, she couldn’t think that far.

“Because I want you one hundred percent with me.”

She eyed him as she tried to put words to her thoughts. “I had no idea you were so sweet.”

“Would a ‘sweet’ guy ask you this…” Leaning in close, he put his mouth to her ear. “Why have you never come with a man before?”

She pulled back and stared at him. “I…did at the pool. With you.”

“Before that.”

“Oh. I…”

“Here you go,” said their waitress as she came toward them with their order. “Enjoy your meal. Anything else?”

Rafe didn’t take his eyes off Emma. “No, thank you.”

With a nod, she walked away.

Rafe squeezed Emma’s fingers. “So, tell me. Why?”

EMMA OPENED HER MOUTH, then closed it. She didn’t have a ready answer.

“Emma?”

She picked up a french fry. “I’m thinking.”

Instead of pushing as she’d expected, he leaned back and eyed his plate. “I can’t remember why I wanted food. All I want to eat is you.”

Her fry fell from her fingers, her entire body quivering.

He shot her a grim smile. He picked up her fry and brought it to her lips for her. When she sucked it into her mouth, he groaned.

Because she loved the sound of his torture, because her body was pulsing and having all sorts of interesting reactions, she then sucked on his finger as well.