Animal Magnetism

Seventeen

A little while later, Lilah escaped to the Johnsons’ very small, slightly fussy bathroom at the end of the hallway and stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bright, and there were two spots of color on her cheeks. She looked under the influence.

And she was.

She was under the influence of lust. Damn Brady for baiting her, for making her feel…

Alive. The man made her feel so alive.

She was still staring at herself when the door opened. A big, warm, built body nudged her over, making room so he could squeeze in behind her.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

Brady gave her a look that made her nipples pebble up against her shirt as he reached out and hit the lock.

Click.

It echoed over the pounding of her heart. Staring at him in the mirror, she shook her head. “Brady-”

“Lilah,” he said calmly. Stepping closer, he forced her up against the sink. His hands gripped the tile at either side of her hips, trapping her in. “A male Brazilian?” His voice was that deep half growl she’d heard only when they were naked and he was whispering erotic, explicit promises in her ear, the ones that never failed to make her blush.

“Well, hey, for all I know you really do wax.”

He pressed himself against her butt. He was hard.

“Oh no,” she whispered on a laugh even as she rocked back against him, causing him to hiss in a breath. She stopped breathing entirely and went damp. “We can’t.”

Seeing right through her, he smiled into the mirror, slow and extremely badass.

Oh no. No, she wasn’t going to melt just because he was giving her that look. “You have to go,” she whispered, attempting to elbow him away. “Shoo.”

He made a sound that might have been a snort of laughter. “Can’t.”

“Why not?”

He grabbed her hand and brought it behind her to cup over his crotch.

“Oh my God.” But her fingers stroked him. Bad fingers.

Brushing her hair out of the way, he leaned down to nibble on her neck. “Can’t help it,” he murmured against her skin. “You have this effect on me.”

Her eyes drifted shut, and a horrifyingly needy, hungry little whimper escaped her, loud enough that she lifted her own hands and clamped them over her mouth.

“Mmm,” he barely breathed against her ear. “Love that sound.” His hands slid from her hips upward, beneath her top.

“What are you doing now?”

“If you don’t know, I’m doing it wrong.”

Oh, she knew. And the truth was, she’d do whatever he wanted and they both knew it. Ever since he’d come to town with those sharp, assessing eyes and hard-but-oh-so-giving mouth and all that testosterone, her body had been a complete traitor. His tongue rimmed her ear and she had to lock her knees to remain upright. “Oh God.”

“Give me a minute and you’ll be saying ‘Oh, Brady.’” He ran his fingers lightly down her arms and then encircled her wrists, setting them on the counter’s edge, indicating she should keep them there. She wriggled back against him, grinding her bottom into his erection. “Hold still,” he commanded softly in her ear.

She shivered and it was entirely possible she had a mini-orgasm. If he hadn’t been pinning her between the hard sink and his even harder body, she’d have slithered bonelessly to the floor.

Then his hands slid beneath her shirt and ran up her rib cage, stopping just short of her breasts.

She held her breath but couldn’t quite keep quiet. “Touch me!”

He pushed her shirt up and the cups of her bra down and, watching her reaction closely in the mirror, palmed her breasts. Then one of his very talented hands slid slowly down her belly and into her pants. “Oh Jesus.” His breath was hot against her ear. “You’re ready for me.”

She’d been ready for him since she’d first laid eyes on him, and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

His hands went to her hips and before she could draw her next breath, he’d shoved her jeans to her thighs, groaning softly in her ear at the sight of the baby blue thong he’d bought her. There was something incredibly thrilling about being so exposed while he was fully dressed behind her, watching himself touch her in the mirror.

“I-” She gasped when he gave one quick yank and ripped the underwear off her.

“I’ll buy you more. Hell, I’ll buy you an entire Victoria’s Secret store,” he promised, his voice a rough, barely there growl as he slid his hand between her thighs. “I can’t get enough of you, I can’t.”

She met his gaze. His eyes were no longer playful but dark and filled with a dangerous emotion. Dangerous, because now it wasn’t just her good parts aching. No, the nameless ache spread and hit her heart with deadly precision. Turning in his arms, she twisted her hands into his shirt, and then their mouths connected, hot and demanding. His tongue touched hers at the same moment his fingers slid home. Her toes began to curl, but he slowly withdrew, making her whimper.

“Later,” he murmured, but continued to hold her close.

Panting, Lilah dropped her head to Brady’s chest. “I hate later.” After a minute, she pulled her clothes back into place. Without panties. God. She slumped back against Brady. Beneath her cheek, his heart was thumping steadily. Definitely faster than his usual near-hibernation beat. Lifting her head, she flashed him a tight smile. “I get to you.”

“Are you kidding? You own me,” he said, his voice running over her like silk.

And with that startlingly revealing statement, he unlocked the door and slipped out, leaving her leaning against the sink, heart still pounding, nipples hard enough to cut glass.

“What are you doing?” Brady demanded an hour later when they were finally back on the road heading home.

The four dogs were in the back, sleeping in a relaxed pack. Outside, the night was dark and chilly, but inside the Jeep it felt warm and toasty, and by the light of the dash, Lilah was moving around, driving him crazy as she pulled off her sweater.

“Just getting comfortable,” she said. “I have a long night ahead of me. I still have hours of studying once we get back. I have a big advanced chem midterm tomorrow.”

“You should have told me.” He glanced over at her. “I’d have gone and gotten the dogs for you. And that’s a little revealing.”

She looked down at her shirt and laughed. “It’s a man’s cut beefy T-shirt, and I’m wearing a bra beneath it-as you already know since you had your hands on me earlier. If you’re going to worry about something, worry about the fact that I’m commando.”

His dick jerked inside his jeans.

“And that I’m commando at all is all your fault.”

True. He had the tiny blue scrap of panties in his pocket to prove it. At the thought, he let out a frustrated groan. “And if you could stop saying commando, that might help.”

She laughed again. She was laughing, and all he could think about was getting back into her pants. Where she had no panties. Nope, just warm, wet flesh. He scrubbed a hand down his face and tried to steer his mind to something else. Multiplication tables maybe. Twelve times twelve is-

“You’re going to get a ticket,” she said, glancing at the speedometer. “You in a hurry?”

He knew that she knew damn well he was in a hurry. In a hurry to get her home and naked to finish what they’d started.

Because when she was in his arms he was content, as he so rarely ever felt. He didn’t want to examine that too closely, because if he did, he’d have to face that not only was he thinking about Sunshine as “home” but that he was also thinking about a future. In one spot. Twelve times thirteen is-

“You seem a little on edge,” she said.

Yeah, he was on edge. On a very narrow one, too. Because he could get her home as fast as he wanted, but it didn’t matter. She had to study and sleep. “I’m on edge, yes. Because I’ve been hard for hours.”

She laughed. “Poor baby.”

He was beginning to wonder if he was addicted to her. There’d been times in his wild, misspent youth where he’d tried just about everything under the sun-all manner of drugs and alcohol. It was amazing he’d never become addicted to anything, but how ironic that after all that he was addicted to one little woman.

Not that she had the same problem with him, of course. Nope. She was over there cool as a cucumber, looking like some kind of hot, sexy trouble.

So what the hell was bothering him? She was a dream lover, wanting nothing from him but mutual sexual bliss. No strings…

Perfect.

Only it wasn’t. Not even close.

Lilah turned to Brady as he drove them through the dark night toward Sunshine. The mountains were nothing but black inky silhouettes, the moon a solitary half orb hanging overhead, casting Brady’s face in its glow. He was in his driving zone, giving nothing of himself away.

As if sensing her interest, he glanced over, his features softening when he saw her looking at him. “That dessert you came up with was genius,” he admitted.

It had been genius, if she admitted so herself. She’d seen the little pretzel twists on Ellen’s kitchen counter, next to a bowl of Hershey kisses. Lilah had taken a baking sheet, spread out the pretzels, put a chocolate kiss in the center of each and then baked. When the kisses were just slightly melted, she’d pulled them out and added a single M &M on top of each, pushing down, spreading out the kiss over the pretzel.

Better than any candy bar at 7-Eleven.

“And I bet no one but me knew you made that up on the spot from the crap she had out on the counter,” he said, sounding amused.

“Hey, you loved that crap. You ate like twenty of those pieces of crap.”

“I did.” He was leaned back, utterly relaxed as he drove, the annoyingly sexy alpha.

“You didn’t do so bad yourself,” she admitted. “Telling her that I could bake. We’re even now, right?”

“Oh no,” he said silkily, his voice like warm butter. “We’re not even. Not even close.”

There in the dark interior, with the darker night all around them, surrounded by the wilderness and four adorable dogs in the back, she shivered. “Don’t tell me you’re going to hold a grudge.”

He slid her a glance. “Weekly grooming sessions? Male Brazilians?” He smiled evilly. “Yeah. I’m holding a helluva grudge. If I was you, I’d be worried. Very worried.”

“I’m pretty sure they knew we were making all that up.” She nibbled her lower lip. Okay, maybe she’d taken it a little far. “And I was really torn between the Brazilian and saying that we met at the dog-grooming place, where you were having your Pomeranian groomed. The one with a jeweled collar.”

“Christ.”

She smiled. “I’ve got to ask-why did you go with the whole couple thing in the first place?”

“Because they wanted it to be true.”

She stared at him. “So you told a whopper to a very nice, kind middle-aged man and his wife for altruistic reasons? That’s… sweet,” she decided.

“I am sweet.”

She laughed, and he smiled wryly. “Okay,” he said. “Maybe sweet is a bit of a stretch.”

“I don’t know,” she murmured, feeling herself soften inexplicably as she thought of all the little things he’d done for her. Giving the woman who’d crunched his bumper a ride home, leaving her breakfast, carrying her to bed when she’d literally fallen asleep on her face. Driving one hundred miles for a dog rescue just to keep her company… “You have your moments.”

It was midnight when they pulled back into Sunshine. Brady walked Lilah into the kennels and waited while she got the dogs in and settled, spending a few minutes with each of them, making sure they were calm and had what they needed even though she was yawning widely every two seconds and clearly dead on her feet.

With good reason, he knew. She’d been up since before dawn. He stepped in and helped her, a physical ache in his heart, the one that he was getting used to when it came to her.

“What’s the matter?” she asked when they were done.

He’d just realized what else was really bugging him. She was there for everyone and everything, and yet near as he could tell, it didn’t go both ways. Not because people didn’t love her and want to help her. They did. Everyone loved her. Everyone wanted to help her.

But she didn’t let them. She was the most independent, feisty, sexy woman he’d ever met. “Nothing,” he said, and walked her to her cabin.

“Want to come in and look beneath my bed? Or better yet, in my bed?”

He wanted her, bad. Beyond bad. But more than getting her naked and making her scream his name, he wanted her rested. She worked so damn hard, was clearly exhausted… “I’ll tuck you in.”

“I’m not going to sleep.”

“You’ve had a long day.”

“Yes, but that chem test I’m taking tomorrow counts for half of my grade. I have to burn the midnight oil.” She turned in the doorway, clearly expecting him to leave.

Instead, he caught her close, lowered his head, and kissed her, and for a moment she clung to him. It was sweet and warm, and like always when he was within two inches of her, not enough. Gently he nudged her farther inside her cabin. “Get comfy.”

She smiled, and he laughed. “Not that kind of comfy. I’m going to help you study.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I can.”

“What do you know about animal reproductive physiology?”

“I’ll be holding the book,” he said. “I’ll know everything.”

Her smile was gone, and so was the warmth in her eyes. “I can do it by myself.”

He cocked his head and studied her. “What just happened, what nerve did I step on?”

“Nothing. But I can do this on my own.”

That wasn’t an answer to his question and they both knew it. “Of course you can do this on your own. But why should you have to if someone’s willing to help? Oh,” he said, nodding when she didn’t respond to that either, “I get it. You don’t want help.”

“I don’t need help.”

And in her mind, he knew, there was a huge difference. “Everyone needs help sometimes, Lilah. Except for you, apparently, because that would signify some kind of weakness, right? Not accepting my help allows you to lump me in with all the other men in your life. The ones who, like everything else, are to be taken care of, not vice versa. Because no one’s allowed to take care of you.”

“That’s… stupid.”

“I might be temporary, Lilah, but I’m not stupid. And I’m not one of your pets, either.” He nudged her to the kitchen table where her books were spread out, waiting. “Sit down. The professor is here to make sure you pass.”

“Brady.”

“That’s Professor Brady to you,” he said.

She arched a brow and gave him a level look. No longer defensive but not yet willing to concede surrender. “So is this some kind of sexual fantasy? The beleaguered student servicing her professor for an A?”

“Hmm, sounds promising.” He nudged her into a chair, smiling when a trickle of good humor came into her eyes. “We’ll get to that. For now, crack that book, woman. Don’t make me show you what happens to naughty schoolgirls.”