Helen Brenna - An Imperfect Match / Next Comes Love - An Imperfect Match / Next Comes Love

“One kiss…”

But Dean should’ve known that one kiss would never be enough. It didn’t sate his appetite the way it should have; it increased it tenfold.

Slanting his mouth over hers as his arms wrapped around her body, he drew her flush against him until the ripe fullness of her breasts pressed against his chest, igniting the skin.

Her tongue slid along his, playing and teasing as much as tasting and devouring, and he spiraled in a heady dance of desire that made his eyes cross. She sucked his bottom lip between pearly white teeth, hinting at the way she liked to play, and the blood flow immediately stopped elsewhere in his body to reroute south. Feeling himself straining against the unforgiving fabric of his jeans, he grabbed her behind and hoisted her into his arms, loathe to break contact even as he took them out of the room and straight to her bedroom. Of all the crazy things he’d ever done in his life, this ranked in the top three, but he’d lost any chance of listening to reason. He wanted—no, needed her—the way a man on the edge had to have someone to talk him down before he jumped.

They fell to the small bed, sending pillows bouncing to the floor and he climbed her body until he was back at her mouth. Her lips, swollen and red from his attention, were sexy as hell, beckoning as she twisted and gasped in his hold to better feel him against her. The spaghetti straps on her sunshine-yellow top were little match for him as he easily divested her of the flimsy fabric, tossing it over her head to join the discarded pillows. A peach lacy bra with scalloped edges flirted with her creamy skin and he groaned at the beauty of the sight before him. Damn near perfection. Cupping both breasts, reveling in their full weight, he gently squeezed and nearly lost it when she arched and moaned, gripping his shoulders and digging her nails in with a breathy demand for more.

“Annabelle, you’re amazing,” he murmured, running the tip of his tongue along the shallow valley of her breasts, while he sent one hand sliding down her belly to the tops of her Capri pants. Her legs scissored languorously and she sighed with pleasure as he made short work of the buttons so he could work his fingers beneath the matching peach froth caressing her hips and hiding from view what he ached to see. He worked the pants down slowly, and she helped him by kicking them free until they fell to the floor. Gazing down at her body, her skin heated and flushed, he drank in the sight. As the moment cooled between them, Dean watched as uncertainty clouded her gaze. She tried shifting, but Dean held her still, going down to lightly kiss the faint spidery lines marking her belly, where Honey had grown safe and healthy in her womb. She trembled as his lips grazed the soft skin. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, meaning every word. She was stunning and deserved no less than to believe it in her heart. “You’re perfect.”

She closed her eyes, but not before he caught the shine that betrayed her tender feelings. “Dean…”

Returning to her mouth, he gently explored her lips, needing to banish whatever had made her question, until she became pliant and yielding at his touch. Taking a brief moment to pull a condom from his wallet, he spent the next hour showing Annabelle in the most reverent way possible how much he enjoyed making love to a woman.

And judging by the scratches she left on his back, she appreciated his efforts.

BRANDON HEARD his father’s truck pull into the driveway and he didn’t need to see the time on his digital clock to know it was late.

His stomach churned as angry tears stung his eyes. His dad never went out late without telling him where he was going to be. He was a stickler for those kinds of things. So that led Brandon to believe that his dad hadn’t wanted him to know where he was. And there was only one place Brandon wanted his dad to steer clear of.

The woman had finally wormed her way into his dad’s pants. Brandon had known it would only be a matter of time. He wasn’t stupid. His dad was probably lonely and Annabelle was hot. Half his friends were already panting after her, gazing in her direction as if she were a Greek goddess or some such shit, making up excuses to go with him when he had to go to the office. But Brandon saw through her game. She needed a man to take care of her. She already had a kid with some other loser, and now she was eyeing his dad like the top prize at a carnival booth.

It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t it enough that they’d lost Mom? She’d been the love of Dad’s life—he was sure of it. He couldn’t understand why Dad was forgetting that fact. Annabelle didn’t hold a candle to Mom, he thought. Mom had been the kind of woman people could trust, the one everyone turned to when they needed help. A PTA mom, a woman who brought brownies for his class to share on his birthday. Annabelle was the kind of woman who was more likely to seduce the teacher than volunteer for lunch duty.

Jessie’s voice broke into his angry thoughts as the echo of their earlier conversation came to mind.

“What’s gotten into you?” she’d asked, irritation warring with concern in her hazel eyes. “You’re going all mental over your dad’s new office manager. I think she’s nice.”

“That’s because you can’t see her for what she truly is,” he’d retorted in annoyance.

“Which is?” She crossed her arms and glared.

“A gold digger.”

Jessie snorted and scoffed at the idea and his ears burned, but he didn’t back down. “Oh, c’mon. You don’t seriously think that, do you?”

He answered with a testy stare.

She shook her head. “You’re way off base. Maybe you need to stop freaking out about stupid things and deal with your issues. You’re creeping me out with all the ugly crap you’ve been saying about Annabelle.”

“Can’t help what’s true.”

She pinned him with a short look. “Yeah? Well, if you keep it up, you’ll be spouting off to someone else because I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

And then she’d left. Brandon didn’t blame her for leaving the way she did. He didn’t much like himself the way he was feeling but he couldn’t stop. It was as if Annabelle had burrowed under his skin like a parasite and was eating away at his ability to be a nice person. A flash of shame followed at the knowledge that his mom would have been very disappointed with him.

He countered by saying that if his mom knew how this woman had designs on his dad she’d want Brandon to protect the family however possible.

Which is exactly what he planned to do.

ANNABELLE couldn’t seem to catch her breath. She suspected it had something to do with the fact that each time Dean came into the building her heart rate tripled and the urge to lick him like a giant piece of man-candy nearly overwhelmed her.

He glanced her way and her mouth curved.

This could be a problem. She allowed her smile to fade and busied herself with work. A fling was transient, fleeting and brief. Annabelle tried to focus but Dean was in her peripheral vision and her attention wandered.

When he looked up from his PDA, their gazes locked. A slow grin spread across his lips and she knew their thoughts mirrored each other’s. She dropped her stare first. They couldn’t keep doing this all day. For one thing, they wouldn’t get any work done and for another, it was incredibly suspect. People were bound to notice.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

She started at his sudden proposition. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You know why. We already covered that.”

“At my house.”

“Your house?”

He chuckled as if he’d surprised himself with the suggestion but immediately warmed to it. “Yeah. Let me cook you and Honey dinner. Brandon is staying at a friend’s tonight and it’d be nice.”