Page 38 of Embraced at Seaside
“Why are you here?” Her words came out slow and slightly slurred.
“I was here with Clark. Why are you here, Jana? Dressed like this?”
“What?” She pushed off his shoulder, swaying a little, and tried to give him a serious look, but it made her wobble even more, and she clutched at his shirt.
He glowered at her. “Looking so off-the-charts hot that every guy in here wants you.”
She felt her lips curve up and was too drunk to stop them. “Doyou?”
“Jana.” He crushed her to him again, and his masculine scent permeated her senses, sending ripples of desire straight to her core. “This isn’t you, Jana. You don’t do this.”
“Yes, I do. I met you on a night like tonight.”Uh oh…
She felt his entire body go rigid against her. And she swore to erase that night from her memory so she never, ever brought it up again. He’d been so angry when she’d accidentally called him all those other men’s names after he’d said sweeter things to her than any man had ever said before.
He put his mouth beside her ear and said, “You like me better when we’re bed buddies?” A chill hung on the edge of his words.
Her temper flared at her own words coming back at her, but as his hands moved up her waist, she got distracted from that anger, and when they brushed higher, she rested her cheek against his shoulder. She wanted his touch, needed his touch.Only Hunter’s.Hunter’s touch made the noise and indecision fall away. His hands traveled slowly down over her hips, making it hard for her to hold on to anything but the desire to be consumed by him. When his hands clutched her butt, she gasped.
“Is that what you want, Jana? A good, hard screw?”
She opened her mouth, but no words came. Her body wanted what he offered, but her heart, her stupid, needy heart, wanted more—from him, only him—and that scared the life out of her.
His hands moved down the back of her thighs and toyed with the edge of her dress. “You know I can give you that.”
She closed her eyes, trying to decipher his tone, trying to read between the lines. But the lines blurred, and all she was left with were her desperate, warring emotions. Her greedy heart wanted Hunter, all of him: his caring touch, his possessive protection, and his sexual prowess. But panic roared through her meadow of love, trampling all over the beauty and safety of it and leaving behind darkness she couldn’t comprehend.
He pressed a kiss just below her ear. “Say the word, Jana, and I’ll take you home and give you what you need.”
The song ended, and Jana sensed people moving away, but she didn’t want to part from him as they moved to a silent beat. With panic clinging to her heart and her mind whirling, she forced what she truly wanted from her lips.
“Take me home, Hunter.”
Chapter Sixteen
HUNTER CUT THE engine in front of Jana’s house. After trying to practically climb onto his lap as they drove away from Undercover, Jana had passed out leaning against his shoulder. He shifted her gently so she wouldn’t fall as he got out of the truck. He gathered her in his arms, struck by the angelic look on her peaceful face, contrasting sharply with the short dress and spiked heels. That was Jana, one big contradiction, even when she was asleep. He lifted her easily and kissed her forehead. She might be stubborn and antagonistic, but he’d seen her when her guard was down, and he knew this was a facade. She could push him as far and as hard as she wanted, but he wanted to make herhiseven more than before.
She snuggled against his chest as her arms wound around his neck.
“Keys,” he mumbled. They’d left so quickly after he told Sky he was taking Jana home that they must have left her purse behind.
“Under the mat.” She pressed her hand to his chest and blinked up at him with sleepy, sexy eyes.
Heck if he didn’t get a little shiver. She’d gotten to him, all right. Hook, line, and sinker. He couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to her pink lips.
“We’re going to have a talk about safety, pretty girl.”
“No talk,” she slurred as her eyes closed. “Sex.”
He crouched, holding Jana tightly against him as he retrieved the key from beneath the mat, unlocked the door, then pocketed the key and pushed the door open.
“We’re going to talk about that, too,” he told her, though the cadence of her breathing told him that she had already passed out again.
Jana’s house was dark and quiet and smelled like her: Sexy, feminine, and too desirable. He’d been inside her house the other night, but he’d been so overcome with desire, and then, in the bedroom, he’d been bowled over by his emotions, unable to see or think past them. Now he took a moment to look around. The house was only slightly bigger than it looked from the outside, but Jana’s essence was everywhere. The living room curtains were partially closed, willowy and colorful. The pale blue couch clashed with an orange armchair, and the armchair definitely did not match the tie-dyed pillows tossed haphazardly on the chair and floor. The walls were painted pale yellow, but as Hunter turned down the hallway toward the open bedroom door he’d spotted, he noticed that the hallway walls were pink. He smiled to himself. Her furnishings were as busy as her life.
He stopped at the threshold to Jana’s bedroom and tried to make sense of the sight before him. He wasn’t sure if he was looking at something from a Dr. Seuss book or a fancy high-end catalog. How had he missed all this the last time? The bedroom walls were a muted gold color. A pear-green dresser boasted iron handles in the shapes of flowers. He recognized them because he’d made them to fill a special order from the Eclectic Shop. That made his chest warm. Jana must like armchairs, because there was another one in the small bedroom. The black and white plaid seat cushion conflicted with the pink and purple paisley upholstery that covered the back and arms of the chair, but somehow the gold frilly pillow made it fit right in with the rest of the mayhem in the bedroom. At the head of the double bed—Who sleeps in a double bed instead of a king?One glance at the sleeping woman in his arms answered that—decorative bright green and blue curtains hung from a metal twisted vine rod that he also recognized, as it had come in as a special order from the same store as the dresser handles.
He drew his brows together and wondered if she’d known he was the one who’d made them.
