Dirty Deeds, Page 6

  walk around. See what screams ‘ride me.’”

  Nathan clamped his teeth together against the urge to shout, Pick me! Pick me! When he glanced over and witnessed the catlike curl to her mouth, he knew he was in big, big trouble.

  And Tate enjoyed causing his libido trouble. She chose every ride that plastered them together: the Scrambler, Tilt-a-Whirl and the Octopus. He couldn’t fight the G-forces and it was foolish to attribute the dizzy sensation to the rides, not to the intimate manner in which Tate positioned her lithe body against his at every opportunity.

  In his supreme state of distraction, he’d agreed to ride tandem down the enormous slide. With her tempting backside grinding firmly into his groin on the endless glide, he decided he’d suffered enough sweet torture.

  “How about if we get that corn dog now?” he suggested. Maybe fast food would take his mind off the throbbing in his crotch.

  “Sure. You having one?” She stretched. The motion lifted her snug yellow shirt, giving Nathan a brief glimpse of her tanned, flat belly.

  “No. But I could use a cold drink.” Preferably something with ice he could hold between his thighs to cool his groin down a notch.

  “Fine. You can watch me.”

  The mere idea of seeing Tate’s full lips wrapped around the tip of a corn dog, licking and sucking, set heat flaming again. Ice wasn’t going to help him a bit. “On second thought, how about something sweet? Cotton candy?”

  She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I guess.”

  After procuring their food, they wandered through the midway. Tate pointed to various rides they’d yet to attempt. When they reached the tents where carnival barkers challenged them to the assorted games of skill, her chattering stopped entirely.

  “Do these guys make you nervous?” Nathan watched several tattooed, multi-pierced young studs give the blonde teenage girls in front of them a lewd once-over.

  “No. It’s just…”

  “What?”

  She stopped and sighed. “All right, here’s the truth: I’m terrible at games. I can’t tell you how many times I tried to win one of those stupid stuffed animals in high school only to go home empty-handed.”

  “Didn’t any of your dates step up to the challenge and win something for you?”

  Tate’s head lowered until her expression was hidden behind the blue fluff of cotton candy.

  He stepped closer. “Tate?”

  “All right, all right.” She tore off a chunk of cotton candy and chewed without making eye contact. “I’m sure it won’t surprise you to know I never had a date whisk me to the carnival.”

  Somehow Nathan hid his shock. How had such a sweet thing as Tate missed such an important rite of passage? Oh right. Teenage boys were complete idiots. Still, Tate’s embarrassment lingered. He didn’t care if his sympathy would be unappreciated. He gently lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Then I’m glad to be your first.”

  Her breath caught.

  “What do you say we win you one of those stupid stuffed animals?”

  A smile lit up her face, captivating him even further. She pulled him down to her sticky mouth for an enthusiastic kiss. Her sweet tongue tangled with his until the desperate strokes gave way to slow, seducing nibbles, followed by a sassy nip.

  Staggered by the very public, very hot kiss, Nathan scrambled to recover his wits. He licked his lips, savoring the sugary confection along with Tate’s underlying taste. He grinned. “I take that as a yes?”

  Half an hour later, Tate refused to let Nathan carry the gigantic stuffed dog he’d won for her. Sure, he’d spent far more money than he would have had he just purchased the thing outright, but watching him swing that mallet… God, the man was something. She clutched his bulging biceps tightly to assure herself she wasn’t dreaming.

  He not-so-subtly moved away.

  Tate sighed. Yep, he was determined to keep physical contact at an absolute minimum. Why? The sexual current between them kept up a steady hum regardless if they weren’t touching.

  She was having more fun at the carnival than she expected. Yet she wondered why they were here, making out like a couple of moon-eyed teenagers without another choice. Why couldn’t they fulfill his requirements of getting to know each other better at her house? Or his? In bed? Between screaming bouts of sticky sex there was plenty of room for revealing pillow talk, right? She sighed again.

  “What? You tired of holding that damn dog yet?”

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  He laughed. “Your tongue is an interesting shade of blue.”

  Tate batted her lashes. “Want to kiss me again and see if we can get yours the same color?”

  His nostrils flared and his heated gaze lingered a beat too long on her lips. “Not right now.”

  “Spoilsport. I’ll have to get my thrills some other way. Let’s ride the double Ferris wheel.” She spun and hustled toward the flashing lights without waiting for his response.

  They waited in line without speaking. When their turn finally came, she released her prize into the attendant’s care, whispering to him for several seconds. They climbed into the steel car. Once latched in and circling through the air, Nathan surprised Tate by sliding his arm behind her and pulling her firmly against his shoulder.

  “So, what were you and the ride operator discussing?”

  “Nothing. I just told him to take good care of my prize.” She bumped her hip closer and curled her hand over his on the safety bar. “Thanks again for tonight. I’ve had fun.”

  “Me too.”

  Tate lifted her face to the sultry night air as they spun higher to the next loop. After a couple of spins, then double spins, their wheel turned lazily until their car was perched on the very top.

  Where they stayed.

  Nathan leaned over the edge and looked down. “What the hell is going on down there?”

  Tate kept her expression bland as she too leaned over and pretended to contemplate the problem.

  “Dammit, we’d better not be stuck up here.”

  “You make it sound like being trapped up here with me is the worst thing that could happen.”

  He scowled. “No, the worst thing would be if one of those lamebrains didn’t properly maintain their equipment. We could be stranded up here all night.”

  “Good thing I brought a condom then, huh? You know, to pass the time in case we are stuck?”

  He faced her with his mouth hanging open.

  “What?” she said innocently.

  “You did plan this. That’s what you and that carnie were talking about.” He swore under his breath. The carriage rocked as he scooted to the other side of the car.

  Okay, Nathan’s reaction was not the “yippee let’s rip our clothes off and get down to business” response she’d anticipated.

  “I’m sorry,” she said tightly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Some surprise,” he muttered. “How did you get the attendant to go along with this crazy idea?”

  “Never mind.”

  A few minutes passed before he expelled an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Tate. Tell me.”

  “Nope.” She let go of the metal safety bar and crossed her arms over her chest. She focused on the blinking lights on the midway below and the gentle breeze cooling the sting of humiliation from her cheeks.

  “Talk to me.”

  She shook her head.

  He slid closer until his body crowded her into a corner, making the car sway. “I’m waiting.”

  “Gee, maybe you’re right. Maybe we should use this time to get to know each other better.” She plastered on a Miss America smile. “Hi! My name is Tatum Beatrice Cross and I’m a Capricorn. My favorite food is Italian. My turn-ons include men willing to live on the wild side. Turn-offs are men who spoil everything with their prudish attitudes.”

  “Ha-ha.” He paused. “I’m not prudish.”

  “So you say.” Tate faced him and challenged, “Isn’t that what you wanted? To talk? Wel
l here’s your chance to share your deepest, darkest secrets.”

  “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  Tate locked her defiant gaze to his. “Your favorite sexual position.”

  His teeth flashed. “Any in which I’m dominant.”

  Holy cow. Her heart jumped in her throat.

  “Got nothing to say to that?”

  She just stared at him.

  A second later, Nathan lowered his mouth to hers and kissed the daylights and the temper right out of her. Butterflies in her stomach took wing, and she felt herself spiraling higher even when the carnival ride stayed at a complete stop.

  Nathan pulled his warm lips from hers. “Tell me why you staged this stunt.”

  Tate’s fingers swept over her well-kissed mouth. “Because of that. Just once I wanted to make your head spin the way you make mine spin every time you kiss me.”

  He reached for her again and gave her one of those red-hot five-alarm kisses that made her hair smoke and her knees as weak as a rubber hose.

  The Ferris wheel started to move. Neither of them noticed.

  Once they were firmly on the ground, Nathan said, “Let’s go.”

  The return trip to her house was swift and silent. Outside her darkened porch, she asked, “Do you want to come in?”

  He tucked her prized animal under his arm. “Just for a minute.”

  Tate fumbled with her keys, keenly aware of how Nathan’s ragged breath on the back of her neck sent shivers up her spine.

  She turned on the lamp in the foyer and glanced at his reflection moving behind her in the hall mirror. His face looked beautifully masculine and strong, even bathed in soft amber light.

  He set aside the stuffed dog.

  His long fingers latched on to her hips. Aligning her back to his front, Nathan gradually trailed his wide palms over her every curve, gauging her reaction in the mirror.

  Her breath hitched. Need settled low in her belly before breaking free to run riot through her blood. The rapid pulse beating at the base of her throat gave away her body’s reaction. Fortunately, the hard male part of him digging into her lower back also gave away his.

  Against her temple, he whispered, “You’re driving me crazy. Those hot looks coming from such an angelic face. I ought to run, the way you make me feel.”

  Tate twisted into his arms. “Stay here. Start feeling me instead.” Standing on tiptoe, she touched her mouth to his.

  The kiss spun them sideways, backward and out of control. She wanted his big, rough hands on her bare skin. Wanted equal time to explore those intriguing masculine hollows. When Tate reached for the snap on his jeans, his hand braceleted her wrist.

  Just like that, he ended the kiss.

  “Stop.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll be damned if we’ll make love tonight.” His chest rose and fell as he tried to calm his breathing.

  “Why not?”

  “There has to be more.”

  In her passion-drunk state, she must have missed something. She looked at him blankly. “More what?”

  “Don’t you think the anticipation between us needs to build? We should get to know each other first? Before we…”

  Tate traced the interesting mix of fine dark hairs on his forearm almost absentmindedly. “You’re serious?”

  “Completely.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He brushed her fingers aside and his expression remained vulnerable, even when his words weren’t. “Ever wanted something so bad you thought you’d explode if you didn’t get it?”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with—”

  “And when you finally got your hands on it,” he continued without pause, “it was better than your wildest dreams?”

  Her mouth dried at his provocative tone.

  “Tell me, Tate,” he said huskily, bracing his hands on the wall behind her, his hot breath drifting across her skin. “Have you denied yourself that rush of pleasure until you’re so hot you feel like you’ll burn up inside?”

  The shiver from his forceful question puckered her nipples beneath her blouse. The nubs hardened further under his immediate hungry inspection. Yet he made no move to look away.

  “Who are you to say I don’t have that burning feeling now?”

  “You do?” He managed to raise his eyes back to hers.

  “Yes.” She ducked under his elbow and shoved her hands in her pockets. “There’s some serious chemistry between us. Don’t deny it.”

  “I don’t.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “No problem.” His jaw hardened as he gave her another curious once-over. “But you’d rather have ‘wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am’? Instead of romance?”

  Romance? Where had that come from? Tate cocked her head. Obviously she had misunderstood. “What? Like tonight at the carnival? And the other night with ice cream and the walk in the park? Like flowers, poetry, slow dancing, champagne and candlelight dinners?”

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “Nathan, I told you what I wanted. And I clearly remember romance wasn’t on the list. I don’t need it.”

  He studied her face until she believed she’d melt under the fierce scrutiny.

  Finally he sighed. “Well that’s too bad. Because I do.” He backed up all the way to the door and hesitated at the threshold.

  Tate sucked in an extra expectant breath. She held out hope he’d flash that devilish grin and say, Just kidding, before sweeping her straight up to her bedroom.

  “Good night,” he said quietly. “I’ll be in touch.”

  The screen door shut, leaving a dumbfounded Tate staring after him.

  The next afternoon Tate waited at the Girls Club for Grace.

  Tired of cooling her jets in the conference room, she poked her head out the doorway.

  Grace sauntered down the hallway, as if she had all the time in the world, straightening inspirational posters, picking up stray fruit snack wrappers, chatting with Cynthia, a willowy grad student.

  A pack of girls came around the corner at warp speed. Between the three of them they managed to tip over a ficus plant, resulting in broken crockery and clumps of dirt strewn across the carpet.

  “Hey, girls, be careful,” Grace said.

  Immediately, a tiny Native American girl, no more than five, threw her hands in front of her face, clearly expecting Grace to hit her for her part in the mess. Grace merely shooed them away with a gentle warning. The stark expression on Grace’s face made Tate’s heart break.

  She knew Grace tried to reach as many of the girls as possible, but a few slipped through the cracks, and Grace berated herself that she couldn’t save every child under her care.

  Grace finished giving Cynthia instructions and then warned the janitor about the broken pot and the dirt.

  She looked up at Tate and smiled. “Don’t you look like a ray of sunshine in that lemon yellow sundress?” Grace pointed at Tate’s feet. “Cute. Love the matching flip-flops.”

  “Thanks, boss. Come and see my plans for making mosaics.”