Lori Foster - No Limits

“Oh.” He wanted to have sex with her. “You’re coming on to me?”

Wry humor kicked up the corner of his mouth. “Seriously? You can’t tell? I must be losing my touch.”

No, his touch was dead-on, heating her with sizzling awareness. “But you just sent Mary away!”

As if she should have understood, he said, “You aren’t Mary.”

The surprise bubbled out as a small laugh. Appalled at herself, Yvette put a hand to his chest. She meant to lever herself away, but instead, the solid muscles had her curling her fingers against him. “No,” she said with apology. “I’m not.”

His thumbs started that wicked caressing again. “I’m glad.”

Only because he didn’t understand the major difference: Mary could accommodate him, but she could not.

Knowing she had to be fair, Yvette tried to explain. “You might want to rethink things. With Mary, I mean. See...I don’t...” Was there a polite way to put it? No, there wasn’t. “Do that.”

Comical confusion showed in his expression.

And no wonder. She sounded so absurd. “That is, I’m not... I can’t...”

“Can’t?”

“Won’t?”

He searched her face. “Pick one.”

She blew out a breath. “Don’t.” Now she pushed away from him, but landing back on her own feet without support left her shaky. “I don’t.” Gesturing, she explained, “Do that.”

Dubious, his gaze roamed over her from head to toes and back again. “You don’t have sex?”

“No.” And now, with him so near and so...focused, she had more regrets than ever.

“You’re not a virgin.”

She sputtered over the accusing way he said that. “No, but that was then, and now...” She rubbed her brow. “Sorry if I’m confusing you. But I don’t do any of that anymore. I mean dating or sex or anything. So anyway, you see, there’s no problem.” Her smile fell flat. More discussion was not going to make any of this better. Knowing that, she backed up one step, then another. “I’m going to head out now.”

Discontent furrowed his brows, making his blue eyes incendiary. “You’re going to say that and then just book?”

Definitely. Inching toward the door, she nodded. “I’m exhausted.” To give credence to that excuse, she staged a huge yawn. “I need some sleep. You probably do, too.”

He didn’t move.

“So...I’ll see you there. Whenever. Don’t hurry on my account, though.” She backed through the doorway. “I think Mary is still waiting for you.”

The frown got darker. “Forget Mary.”

“Okay, sure.” She continued inching away. “You have a key to get in, right?”

Muscled arms crossed over his chest and he looked down his nose at her. “Yeah.”

“Okay, then I’ll leave the door braces off.”

“Door braces?”

“Added security. You know...those bars that... Never mind. I’ll show you. Later.” She cleared her throat. “When you’re there. Though probably not until tomorrow because I’m going straight to bed—”

“I’m coming now.” He started toward her.

“You don’t have to!” More than anything she wanted to avoid another confrontation until she had her wits collected and could speak without sounding like an idiot. She could accomplish that by being in her room with the door closed before he showed up. Tomorrow morning...well, she’d get up early as usual, maybe go for a jog to clear her head and help collect her thoughts.

She hadn’t expected him to want to pick up where they’d left off.

Three years had passed!

But since he did, and since she couldn’t, she’d have to figure out a way to explain it all to him without actually baring her soul.

Still retreating, she almost bumped into someone, looked over her shoulder and apologized to Rowdy’s wife.

“Don’t mind me,” Avery said, her arms laden with dirty glasses after clearing tables. She continued on as if it was a normal night.

As if Yvette weren’t backing away from a superhunk who inexplicably wanted sexual involvement with her.

The night ranked right up there as one of the least normal she’d had—since moving away.

CHAPTER FOUR

CANNON WAS ON her by the time she looked away from Avery.

Green eyes flared wide when she realized he intended to leave with her—as in, right beside her with his hand curled around the nape of her neck beneath her long ponytail.

Unaccountably provoked, he whispered, “Let’s go,” but her feet remained glued to the floor.

Lacing her fingers together, she blinked up at him. “You don’t have to do this.”

He flexed his neck to relieve the knotted muscles there. “This?”

“Dogging my heels.”

That pissed him off.

Until she clarified, “Protecting me.”

No, maybe he didn’t. But he wanted to. Bad. Hell, he was half-hard and all he’d gotten from her so far were denials, rejections and hilarity at his interest.

And that far-fetched tale about her not having sex. He urged her forward, and she reluctantly gave in.

“This is pointless.”

Determined to prove her wrong on that score, he kept them both walking.

She dug in, saying, “I’m not going to cheat you.”

Even in the crowded, noisy bar, a few people looked up—including Mary, who stood among a small crowd of men.

Steering Yvette to the side, Cannon said, “Keep it down, will you.”

Appalled, she looked around, more upset than she should have been. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, and that implacable mask of poise fell into place.

Now, in a much softer tone, she said, “I’m sorry, but I want you to know. Soon as I sell everything, I’ll send you your half. You don’t have to hang around. I’m sure you have other, more important things to do.”

He wanted to do her, and that was as important as it got. She might not realize it, but the more she tried to run him off, the more determined he was to stay. “Understand something, Yvette.”

A little wary, she asked, “What?”

Smiling to soften his inflexible tone, he leaned closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Huffing, she gave in, no longer fighting him as they headed across the floor, but still stiff-necked under his hand.

Good thing he had a healthy ego. He sensed she wanted to avoid something, but he wasn’t convinced that it was him. There was something more going on.

He planned to find out what.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered.

“We’ll talk when we get home.” They were almost to the door when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

Senses prickling, Cannon turned—then ducked out of reach as someone threw a wild haymaker.

Tucking Yvette back behind him, he said, “What the hell?”

Sour beer breath blasted his face when a man swayed toward him and shouted, “You insulted ’er.”

Looking beyond the idiot slurring his words, Cannon saw Mary watching, her hand over her mouth in dismay. Shit. He hated drama over women. “No insult intended.”

The guy wouldn’t let it go. “You thin’ you’re such a hotshot?”

Sighing, Cannon felt the fascinated gazes of the crowd. The guy challenging him was big and muscular—but not a real match by any stretch. It’d be manslaughter if he took him on. “Look,” Cannon said, “why don’t you let me call you a cab?”

“Fuck you!” He poked at Cannon’s chest. “You were shitty to ’er.”

Cannon caught his hand, jerked him forward then around and put him in a headlock. It’d be so easy to put the guy to sleep...but that didn’t seem fair. He looked up at Mary. “Happy now?”

She gasped. “I didn’t know he’d come after you!”

Without much effort, Cannon contained the wild flailing of the man he held and said to her, “You didn’t put him up to it?”