Page 9 of Off Limits
She pulled into her narrow driveway. He slowed his car at the curb and rolled down his passenger side window. She hopped out of the Jeep with keys and phone in hand.
“You didn’t have to follow me, Brady.” She walked toward his car. Her blonde hair fluttered in the cool breeze. “I’m fine.”
“I know you’re fine.” He forced a smile. If he were going to keep his head about him, he needed to not only keep his distance but limit his time around her. Her force field, her gravitational pull sucked him in. It was too strong. Or he was too weak. Maybe both. Either way, he’d be in trouble.
She leaned into the car from the passenger side, the neckline of her dress dipping forward, revealing the soft curve of her breasts.
He swallowed hard, fighting back the groan threatening to slip out.Damn it.
She wasn’t just fine—she was exquisite. Everything he’d ever wanted, wrapped in one maddening, off-limits package. And that made this a thousand times worse.
Because now heknewwhat it was like to have her.
To taste her.
To feel her wrapped around him, soft and real andhis—if only once.
“I felt confident I put that tire on right but I wanted to make sure you got home. Have your brother check it out tomorrow. Get in the house and I’ll let you get some rest.” He nodded toward her front door. Maybe he could get some rest too. Doubtful. But maybe.
“Thank you.” She pushed off his car with a wave. Sauntering through her yard, she stumbled and dropped to her knees. Her phone and keys flew across the lawn. She released a small curse.
He slid his car in “park,” turned it off and bolted to her side. “Are you okay?” He squatted and placed his hands around her arms, helping her to stand.
“I’m fine.” She brushed him off. “I’d set the sprinkler system to go off this evening since it’s been so dry this winter and apparently it soaked the ground.” She brushed at her now-muddy knees. “Good Lord.” She shook her head.
He moved across the yard and scooped up her phone and keys, meeting her on her small front porch. “Here.” He handed her the keys.
She unlocked the front door and stepped inside, turning on her living room lights. She kicked off her heels. “Thank you, Brady. I mean, how many times will I have to thank you tonight?”
He stood in the doorway and leaned his shoulder against the door frame, just looking at her.
Her hair lay windblown around her shoulders. One of the tortoise shell barrettes sat askew, clasping to a few strands of her hair for dear life. Mascara smudged around her eyes. Little flecks of mud and blades of grass marred her gold dress. And yet, he never wanted her more.
He held out her phone. “Don’t forget this.”
She reached for it, her fingers grazing his.
He bit his lip but the growl escaped anyway. The feel of her—soft and warm—was too much.
Her gaze shot to his, eyes wide with something between surprise and knowing.
“Just one night,” he said, voice rough. “Give me one night.”
She clutched her phone close to her chest and stepped back.
“If you tell me to go, I will,” he said, trying to hold himself together. “I’ll turn around and leave you alone. It will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I will leave. I promise.”
The desperation in his voice unnerved him. He didn’t plead. He didn’t beg.
But he’d never wanted anyone—anything—like he wanted her.
“Brady.” His name came out like a prayer.
He pushed into the house and closed the door behind him. He stepped toward her and she stepped back. She arched her eyebrow and a coy smile tugged at her lips. They moved in sync like a well-choreographed dance. Each step forward he took, she took one back until her behind hit the kitchen island counter. He enjoyed this side of her—playful yet sexy.
“You’re out of room, Princess.” He lowered his face, ran his nose along the length of her neck. Her jasmine scent permeated the air and seeped into him. He wanted to carry her scent, the feel of her touch with him everywhere.
“Am I?”
