Amanda Berry - His Small-Town Sweetheart

Try as she might, she couldn’t deny the attraction in his eyes or the desire burning beneath her skin. Even covered in...stuff. Oh, she was in trouble. And she didn’t know how deep she wanted to dig herself. She could laugh this off and pretend she didn’t see or feel what was happening between them. Deny this intense longing to just go with her gut for the first time in a long time.

Her gut was saying go for it. What was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t as if she’d fall for the boy next door. What was sex between old friends? Would he be up for a roll in the hay with no obligations? Or was he looking for more at this point in his life?

It didn’t matter. If Sam had wanted to act on this attraction, he would have. The men she’d been with had always taken the initiative. If a man wanted to kiss you, he’d kiss you. Right? She needed to get it through her head that this wasn’t happening between them. They were just friends. Not even real friends. Friends from childhood.

“I think this is the quietest I’ve been in a long time.” She tried to laugh, but it came out stilted.

He lifted his gaze to hers, and she took an involuntary step back. The intensity of his eyes struck some primal need deep inside her. Whoa, who would have known that Sam Ward was the type of guy who could melt her into a puddle with just a look? If she felt this way from a look, what would happen if he actually touched her? Goose bumps rose on her exposed skin. That was a very dangerous idea. As much as she longed to finish taking off her shirt and let whatever happens happen, she wasn’t sure she could handle the intensity of Sam. Maybe being partially naked in front of him wasn’t a great idea, even if the alternative was freezing cold water.

She pulled her shirt together. The mud squished between her fingers.

“You know, the hose probably won’t be that bad.” Lord knew her flesh needed cooling down. She flinched but braced herself for the cold. “Go ahead. Spray me.”

* * *

Eighty-five. Eighty-six. Eighty-seven. If Sam kept counting, he could fight this urge to walk over and finish stripping Nicole naked. He started counting the second he caught sight of Nicole’s hot-pink bra under the dull flannel shirt. Its little bow seemed to beckon him with its innocent temptation. It’d been almost easy to think of her as one of the guys with her body completely covered. Almost. It had been a hell of a lot easier before seeing that flash of femininity.

As he’d counted in his head, she’d innocently revealed a bit more of her skin. She hadn’t even been aware of what she was doing to him. The low simmer of desire that pulsed through his veins every time she was close was now a full boil. He was barely managing to keep it from boiling over.

“Are you going to do it?” She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. She’d covered herself, but the image was burned into his retinas. Satin pale skin that looked soft yet stretched over muscles that were clearly toned. His fingertips twitched with the need to feel if it really was as soft and lush as it looked.

Ninety-four. He looked up into the sky. Maybe a plane would fall on him. Just a few more numbers and surely he’d be able to focus again. Ninety-five.

Her voice had that what-are-you-doing tone to it when she said, “Sam.”

He sighed. Was it possible for Nicole to stay quiet for longer than a minute? At least give him long enough to calm the throbbing inside. Ninety-six.

“Am I going to have to hose myself down?”

When he looked at her, she had exactly the stance he imagined she’d have. One hand on her hip and one hand holding her shirt together. The only thing missing was a tapping foot. She still looked tempting as hell.

This was ridiculous. He took a deep breath and raced through the numbers until he reached a hundred. A grown man should be able to be near an attractive woman without thinking of her in a sexual way. Obviously he needed to work on growing up more. He held the hose out to her, not trusting himself to keep from making a fool out of himself. Besides, the cold water would do him good. “Maybe you should hose me down first.”

She buttoned her middle button, leaving way too much skin showing for his comfort, and then grabbed the hose from him. The water formed a muddy area in the grass. She screwed up her face, and he knew she was going to argue with him. Nothing was ever easy with Nicole. “Are you sure about this? I could turn around, and you could take off your clothes, and then I can—”

“Just do it, Nicole.” He bit out the words from between his clenched teeth.

She held the hose up and smiled a little too gleefully. “If you insist.”

She pressed her thumb over the spout and created a spray. The water was cool as it hit his chest and soaked through his shirt. It didn’t do much to cool the burning desire within him, but it was better than nothing.

“Turn around and I’ll get your back,” Nicole said loudly over the sound of splattering mud and water.

He turned, and the ice-cold water soaked the back of his shirt and denims. As the water started to weigh down his jeans, he realized he hadn’t thought this through. His jeans would be near impossible to get off wet, but it wasn’t as if he could throw them in the wash covered in mud. And he wasn’t about to take them off here with Nicole watching. She’d realize how much she affected him. Cold water or not.

“Take off your shirt.”

“What?” He turned and got a face full of water.

“Oops.” Laughing, she lowered the hose and held up her hands. “I swear I didn’t mean to do that.”

Her smile had that little hint of mischief in it. He wasn’t sure if she’d meant to spray him in the face or not.

“I’m not sure I believe that,” he mumbled as he swiped the water from his face. He wasn’t in any condition to get retribution without acting on the latent desire burning in his veins.

“Take off your shirt and I’ll get your head.” She tossed the hose between her hands like a gunslinger and kept that grin on her face.

“You already got me in the face.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. “Not sure what you need me to take off my soggy, dirty shirt for. It’s not like it could get much dirtier.”

“Your hair is filled with dried mud. It’d be a lot easier to get the back of it without your collar in the way.” That was way too reasonable for Nicole.

He narrowed his eyes at her. She was up to something. He just didn’t know what yet. Even though the water was cold, the air was still hot. Getting out of his shirt seemed like a good plan to cool down his body from the heat of the day and the heat of his desire for Nicole.

He turned his back to her as he shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it over to the porch. “Hit me.”

A second passed and then another, but no blast of cold hit him. Just when he was going to turn around to ask her about it, she cleared her throat.

“Sure.” Her voice was a little higher in pitch, but before he could turn around to figure out what she was thinking, a blast of cold water hit the back of his head.

Mud started to streak down his face. “Hold up!”

The water retreated. “What?”

He looked over his shoulder at her and raised his eyebrow, dislodging some mud in the process so that it ran down his cheek.

“What, you can’t handle a little mud in your eyes?”

“No, and I don’t care for it in my mouth, either.”

Giggling, she glanced around the yard.

“Okay, new plan.” Nicole walked toward him. She pointed over to a stump from the tree he had cut down last year. “Sit down. You really are too tall, you know. You should have stopped growing at least a foot ago. It would make you so much easier to deal with.”