Lori Foster - All Riled Up - Trapped! / Riley

“Oh, yeah.” Her uncertainty in the face of the bizarre circumstance was rather endearing, Ethan decided. It was rare indeed to see Rosie suffer such a human emotion as self-consciousness. “I damn well want to be sober when I lie down with you, so I can remember every little detail.”

Her eyes widened like saucers. “I was going to seduce you,” she blurted.

“What?”

She nodded hard. “I was. But it’s your fault.”

“My fault you were going to seduce me?” Following Rosie’s train of thought proved impossible, especially when he was already so horny.

“Yes. You were being so stubborn about it, refusing to see me as a female and—”

“I’ve always known you were a female, Rosie.” He wouldn’t lie to either of them. “Not once did I ever confuse you with Riley or Harris or, God forbid, Buck.”

Her mouth fell open, then snapped shut. “Really?”

She sounded so hopeful, Ethan’s heart turned over in his chest. He’d always considered Rosie a very special friend. Now he realized she was very special—in all ways. Especially as a woman. “Hell, yeah.” Then he scowled. “So have the other guys.”

“What other guys?”

The way she asked that made his worries disappear. She wasn’t aware of their interest. And she’d made it clear she wanted him. It was enough. “Never mind.”

“But...”

“Shh.” He took hold of her shoulders and gently caressed her, hoping to calm her and himself. She felt so soft, so warm. He’d touched her shoulders before, for crying out loud, but this was the first time he’d done so with sexual intent. It was different. How he felt was different.

Rosie deserved the best he could bring to her, and that meant not jumping her bones and dragging her down to the carpet, even when that was what he most wanted to do. He needed to be gentle and considerate. And slow.

Ethan closed his eyes. It was going to be a close call, but he thought, all things considered, he’d manage. “Being that we’re both here, alone, and finally in agreement about what we want to do, maybe we should—”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish. With an exclamation of delight, Rosie launched herself at him.

Taken off guard, Ethan staggered under her weight, but quickly righted himself. He was already half hard with expectation and now, feeling Rosie hugged up tight to him, her breasts against his chest, her belly against his groin, he lost what little control he’d been hanging on to. “Damn.”

“Ethan.” She caught his face and kissed him, awkwardly at first but with so much enthusiasm, he groaned. “Ethan,” she said again, his name almost a wail.

“Easy,” he tried to tell her even as he stroked his hands down her back to that perfect heart-shaped bottom. Her shorts were very short and it was nothing for him to slip his fingers under the frayed edges to tease her firm, rounded cheeks. Her skin was so silky, he felt sure his blood would boil.

Rosie bit his bottom lip. She wasn’t overly gentle, either. He jerked, but she knotted her hands in his hair and brought his mouth back to hers so she could suck his lip into her mouth, tease it with her tongue.

“Jesus, Rosie, slow down.”

“No.” She sealed their mouths together and Ethan tilted his head so he could take over, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her moan. It was the first deep kiss they’d ever shared, and boy, it was good.

“Wait.” She shoved him back and reached for the hem of her shirt. “I want you to touch me. I’ve been thinking about you touching me for days.”

Oh, no. Hell, no. In very Rosie-like fashion, she was running the show. Ethan couldn’t let her do that. She probably had no idea that she drove him wild, that he might lose control at any moment. She’d never driven him wild before, so how could she know?

He caught her wrists and held her still, even when she struggled against him. “Damn it, Rosie. Give me a second.” He panted, trembled, while she continued to fight him. He should have expected as much; Rosie wouldn’t accept any man’s control easily, not even a man she wanted. Above the lust, that struck Ethan as funny, and he laughed roughly.

Rosie glared at him. “What?” she demanded, still pulling against his hold.

“Let’s go into your bedroom.” Maybe if he could get her pinned beneath him on the mattress, he could slow her down a little.

“The bedroom? Oh, okay.” She tried to turn and hurry in that direction.

Ethan pulled her up short, a little desperate. “Honey, this isn’t a race.”

She turned around and yelled right into his face, “You’ll change your mind!”

She looked so vulnerable, so unsure of herself. He’d been a pig, not seeing what was right in front of his face. “No,” he told her very softly, smiling to reassure her. “Not a chance.”

“Then why—?”

“Ever since I woke up with you this morning, my imagination has been in overdrive.” He touched her slightly parted mouth with trembling fingertips. “Hell, Rosie, thinking about you, wanting you all day, has been like indulging in foreplay for hours and the result is that I’m working with a hair trigger here.”

Her eyes darkened to a deep gray. “You’ve been thinking about me?”

“About getting you naked and under me, yeah.” Saying it made him see it, and his stomach cramped with need. But she deserved to hear everything. “I’ve also been jealous as hell.”

“Jealous? Of who?”

Ethan released her and rubbed his face. The need to laugh struck him again, lightening the urgency—at least for him—just a little. Rosie could be so single-minded in her determination she noticed nothing beyond her objective. Of course, he’d been the same, blind to the fact of his friends’ interest.

But no more.

Ethan caught her hand and led her toward the bedroom. “Everyone. Any guy who looks at you.”

“Really?”

“Especially that damned Riley.” They entered her bedroom and Ethan pushed the door shut. “He knew it, too, and kept egging me on.”

Disbelief had her wrinkling her nose. “Riley?”

Ethan stared down at her, so overwhelmed with tenderness—with newfound love—he could have choked on it. “And Harris and Buck.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No.” His smile came naturally. So did the love he felt for her, until it filled him up, making him feel whole for the first time in ages. Loosely looping his arms around her, Ethan kissed her temple. “I knew all along that I thought you were hot, but they think it, too.”

She snorted. “They do not.”

“They do.” He smoothed her cheek, her silky-soft brown hair. Rosie. He couldn’t get over the shock, or the rightness of it. “But you only want me, right?”

She stared at him a long minute before squeezing him tight. “I’m not her, Ethan. Of course, I only want you. Michelle was the biggest fool alive to walk out on you. And as much as I hurt for you when it happened, I was so glad you didn’t marry her.”

Ethan closed his eyes, cut by her words. He hadn’t meant to bring that up, hadn’t even been thinking in that direction. Hell, the humiliation Michelle had inflicted couldn’t possibly invade his thoughts, not now, not with Rosie in front of him, ready to take him to her bed. He took one breath, then another, but it didn’t help.

Leaning back, Rosie saw his pained expression and flattened one hand on his chest. “You didn’t love her, Ethan. I know you didn’t.”

“Rosie...”

Her small hand smoothed over his chest then down his abdomen, and lower. He caught his breath.

Still staring up at him, she touched his fly, gently, curiously. He was fully erect, straining his jeans, and Rosie traced her fingertips up and down his length. “I’m not a fool,” she said. “How could I want any other man but you?”