Page 60 of Back in Black

Pausing, his green eyes going dark, he groaned and kissed her again. They were shielded behind his truck, but still in a public location. But it didn’t matter.

Audrey put her arms around him and ran her hands up his broad, hard back. He was so solid, it left her breathless. She loved the feel of his hard body beneath the soft cotton T-shirt.

For his part, Brett turned his head a little and kissed her more deeply. His tongue sank in, stroked and, with near desperation, he slid his hand up to her left breast.

Audrey froze, but Brett didn’t.

He groaned again as he cuddled her, held her breast in his palm, and found her nipple with his thumb.

Her knees felt shaky. “Brett . . .”

Jerking away, he said, “Let’s go somewhere, Audrey.” Heat colored his high cheekbones. “Right now.”

He needed her, so she wasn’t about to deny him. She breathed so hard, she could barely form a coherent reply. “My apartment is . . . is close.”

At her agreement, his jaw clenched. “No misunderstandings, Audrey. I want to have sex with you.”

For reasons she didn’t understand, his clarification made her lips twitch into a smile. “I know.”

He opened the truck door and said, “Get in.”

While she fastened her seat belt, he jogged around to the driver’s side. Once behind the wheel, he asked, “My place okay instead?”

“I guess.” She studied the severe lines of his expression in profile. “Why?”

“Spice is waiting on me.”

She went still. “Spice?” Who the heck . . .

“My cat.” He put the truck in gear and pulled onto the road. “She’s a possessive thing and misses me when I’m gone. She knows when I’m due home, and she’s always at the door, waiting. She’s been home alone all day already.”

Audrey couldn’t take it in. “You have a cat? Seriously?” Somehow that didn’t fit the picture of a big, buff athlete like Brett.

“You don’t like animals?”

“I do, but . . .” A big dog, now that would have seemed more commonplace for a man of Brett’s abilities.

“She’s been with me since she was a tiny puff of fur.” He held out a hand, palm up. “She used to be able to sit right there, in my palm. I think she only weighed a few ounces.”

From sexually amped up to talking about his cat with such deep affection, Brett Bullman was an amazing man. “Where did you get her?”

“Found her.” A memory tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “I was working as a bouncer in a bar, and after close, I helped clean up the place. I stepped out back to an alley, to dump some trash in the bins back there, and there she was. Thick with fleas, eyes all gooey, barely able to walk.”

Her heart clenched. “Oh, how awful.”

“Someone dumped her there. If I’d found the guy . . .” He let that threat drop off. “I wrapped her up in my shirt and took her into the bar.” Flashing a grin, he said, “The owner had a fit, but what was I going to do?”

“You took care of her?”

“Well, yeah. I wasn’t going to just let her die.” He shifted his shoulders in discomfort. “I have no use for idiots who mistreat animals.”

Remembering some of what she’d heard Drew say, Audrey rested a hand on his thigh. Had Brett ever had a pet as a boy? “How long have you had her?”

“Five years now.” He chuckled with the memory. “I smuggled that cat into the bar every night, and I fed her during my breaks, when I should have been doing my papers.”

“Papers?”

Another shrug. “For college.” He glanced at her and explained. “I worked at the bar nights and weekends to help pay my way through school. Took me a little longer that way, so I didn’t get my degree until I was damn near twenty-three.”

---