Can't Hardly Breathe (The Original Heartbreakers #4)

“We do security for companies and individuals, setting up cameras, running background checks, offering cyber and even physical protection. We’re full-service. We have offices in Oklahoma City as well, headed by former army rangers.”

So young, so successful. Like the women he preferred to date. “You guys are providing security for the spring festival, I hear. Though you probably should have declined. Half the women in town will end up catfighting just to get your attention.” And she wasn’t jealous about that. Nope. Not even a little.

He snorted. “You have more faith in my appeal than I do.”

“Yes, well, I’m most excited about the food trucks.” Everything from fried ice cream to fried butter. “I always allow myself a treat.”

Now he frowned. “Only one?”

How had he locked on the singular? She soooo did not want to discuss her weight, but he’d asked a question and she needed to reply. “I’m on a diet,” she muttered, and offered no more. She’d been on a diet for over a decade.

Some days she dreamed of being trapped inside a candy store and never coming out. Oh, to die buried in a pile of M&Ms.

“Why?” His gaze slid down, down her body and heated with...awareness and admiration? Her kryptonite. “I believe I mentioned the beauty of your curves.”

Maybe he believed those words. Maybe she was attractive in his eyes. But he would never be proud to date her. He would never want anything more than a lay or two.

“I think we’ve gotten to know each other well enough to prove our incompatibility.” With all the dignity she could muster, she pulled on the gloves and knelt in front of the toilet. “Please leave.”





CHAPTER SIX

ANOTHER FAILURE. DANIEL wanted to punch a wall. Then he’d have to repair the hole he left behind, an excuse to spend more time with Dorothea. If she didn’t run away from the maniac who’d thrown a temper tantrum.

But what else was he supposed to do? The woman with lips made for kissing continued to turn him down flat.

Forget playing chase for a few weeks. He would much rather have this woman in his bed, screaming “Yes, yes. Please, Daniel, please.” Now and later.

Not only because she made him laugh. Somehow affection overshadowed his memories of war every time he neared her. She intoxicated him. I’m already an addict. She made him want to give more than he took.

Today, as he’d once again watched Thea dance while she cleaned, molten desire had consumed him, burning any lingering reluctance to ash, leaving him raw, agonized...vulnerable.

She was like a priceless piece of art. The more he studied her, the more mysteries he uncovered—and the deeper depths his fascination reached.

He loved that she painted her nails to match her mood; he planned to buy her a new shade ASAP. Something to represent passion.

“Leave?” he finally said, his voice low. What’d a guy have to do to break through her defenses? “When I’m far from satisfied?”

The most spectacular shade of pink bloomed on her cheeks. Screw yellow, I like pink. His fingers itched to touch her, to find out how warm her skin had become...to discover just how far the flush had spread.

Keeping her back to him, she said, “Bad weather will hit in an hour or two. Go home, Daniel. I’m tripling room rates tonight.”

“Does the triple rate come with cuddle time?”

Slowly she craned her head around to meet his gaze, and it was like something out of a horror movie. Scary as hell. And yet for some reason it made him want to smile.

“No cuddles,” she said, “but I can make sure your stay comes with a knee-to-crotch introduction.”

Do not laugh. “Yeah, baby. Talk dirty to me. Filthy.”

A giggle bubbled from her. Then she sucked in a breath, as if shocked by her amusement.

He stared at her, riveted by the sight of her glowing features, as addicted to the sight of her as he was to, hell, everything else about her. Arousal had simmered inside him all day. No, since she’d flashed him. Seeing her like this pushed him over the edge. He ached. He burned, and he shook.

Somehow, just kneeling there, she was hotter and more inherently female than any woman he’d ever met.

He balled his hands to prevent himself from doing something stupid, like reaching for her before she was ready. Her eyes were like open wounds right now, filled with uncertainty and fear.

Did she fear her feelings for him, or did she just fear him? The things he was capable of... She must have heard rumors.

“You really want me to go?” Ask me to stay. Please.

She licked those porn-star lips, her pretty tongue leaving a glistening sheen of moisture behind. With her wealth of dark curls pinned to the crown of her head, he had a perfect view of her elegant neck. At the base, a pulse hammered wildly, a match to his. Desire like this...he’d never before experienced it. This was all-consuming. A fire in his bones. A drug in his veins. He was quickly becoming obsessed.

“Yes,” she finally whispered. A croak. “Go.”

The rejection was a brass knuckle punch of disappointment to the stomach. For the first time in...ever, he resented the need to chase a woman. He would rather have Thea in his arms, his mouth pressed against hers, his hands exploring her luscious body...her legs wrapped around his waist.

He should kick his own ass for sending her away the night she’d shown up at his door. What could he do to make her willing again? Eager? To make her warm, sweet and languid.

The moment she agreed, he would carry her to bed, and he wouldn’t allow her to leave until she writhed with desire, the way she did in his dreams.

He still wasn’t able to sleep, but at least he now enjoyed the hours he spent lost in his head.

“I’ll be back,” he told her. And this, he decided, was the last time he would allow either of them to retreat. “I won’t give up on you. Or us.” He walked backward, keeping her baby-doll features in his sights until the last possible moment. In her eyes, hope and longing replaced the uncertainty and fear. Did she want to be chased?

I can chase the hell out of her.

No man gave better chase.

But first, he needed a plan. To plan, he needed more information. Who better to help him than Jessie Kay?

He texted the feisty blonde and, after buying glittery white nail polish for Thea—the new representative for passion—met Jessie Kay at Lazy Susan, an old train car that had been transformed into a Victorian teahouse. The walls were paneled with royal blue velvet and cherry woodwork, and from the ceiling hung a crystal chandelier. Stained glass windows filled the cart with colored prisms of light.

Lazy Susan wasn’t located in Strawberry Valley. None of the patrons cared about what he or Jessie Kay said.

She sat at a table in back, eating from multiple platters of food. Beside her, two cups of coffee steamed.

He kissed her cheek and slid into his chair. “Do you know Thea Mathis?” he asked, treading carefully.