Gatlinburg Getaway (Destination: Desire) (7 page)

They reached the sidewalk and turned toward the hotel. After squeezing her shoulder, he let her go. “You strike me as a very independent woman, who probably goes Dutch on most of her dates. Am I right?”

“Or he pays one time, I pay the next.”

He awarded himself a point for calling that correctly. “Well, since you saved me from Ms. Fondler, I think you more than earned your lunch. Though now I’m going to think of her as Ms. Fondler, so it’s going to be hard to keep a straight face next time I see her.”

“She deserves it.” Her expression was unapologetic and a dimple tucked into one cheek. “She’s lucky you didn’t have her thrown on a sex-offender registry.”

“Unforgiving, aren’t you?” Not that he necessarily disagreed with her, but it was fun to rev her up and hear what came out of her mouth. So far, it had been both amusing and unpredictable.

She huffed out a breath. “Did she ever apologize?”

A fair question. “Nope. Not even after she sobered up.”

“Then she doesn’t deserve to be forgiven. I’m a big believer that if you fuck up, you should say you’re sorry and try never to do it again.” She hunched a shoulder. “My relationship with my mom sucks partly because she fucks up a lot, only apologizes to appease you, then turns around and immediately does that same thing. So her apologies don’t mean squat. She’s not really sorry, she just wants you to stop being upset and let her do whatever she wants, which includes lying, manipulating, taking advantage, and otherwise being a gigantic drama llama. I’m not okay with that and I’m not going to pretend I am. Period.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “So. No genuine apology? No forgiveness.”

Well, that told him a lot about her and how she’d become as no-nonsense as she seemed. He bumped his arm into hers. “I assume she’s why you hate liars and drama queens?”

She lifted her hands and let them flop down. “I think I’d hate them anyway but, yeah, I think we can safely put my mother at the root of my aversion. I love her—she is my mother—but most of the time I don’t like her and don’t want to be around her. She uses people, especially her daughters, and anyone who gets close to her gets manipulated and emotionally abused. No one deserves that, and I don’t want that kind of negativity in my life. I’ve had enough trauma to deal with—I don’t need her help on that score.” She patted her bad leg, but then looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “I’m guessing someone who lost his mom wouldn’t understand someone who doesn’t want hers in her life.”

He heard the challenge in her voice, the defensiveness. He’d bet there’d been more than one person who’d tried to make her feel like shit for not wanting to deal with her mother. She was just mistaken in assuming he’d be one of them. “Just because you have something I lost doesn’t mean I resent you for not wanting the same thing. From all accounts, my mother was a wonderful woman. A bit on the shy, quiet side, but everyone in the family said she was the best thing that ever happened to my dad. She was his rock—always knew what to say, always there for him to lean on.”

The war had messed his dad up pretty bad, but he didn’t mention that. They were talking about mothers, not fathers.

Or maybe they should talk about fathers. Maybe that would help her understand his point of view. “My dad…blamed me for my mother’s death. He abandoned me. On the rare occasions I did see him? There wasn’t a kind word in that man’s mouth. He wasn’t physically abusive or anything, but he never stopped blaming me to the day he died.” He blew out a breath. “You said your dad died when you were a baby. Do you resent me because I had a father I didn’t want, just because yours died too young?”

“No.” She smiled, relief reflecting in her gaze. “I’m just so used to people…reacting badly when I say I don’t speak to my mother unless forced.”

“I get where you’re coming from. If my dad was still alive, and he actually wanted to have contact with me?” Compressing his lips, he shook his head. “I’m not sure how close I could ever let him get. That’s the sad truth.”

“I understand, and I’m sorry. For both of us, actually.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand, but he tightened his grip when she tried to pull back. Other than shooting another glance at him, she didn’t protest, and they walked hand in hand into the lobby of her hotel. There was nothing special about the place—everything was nice, clean, with an air of expensive about it. Exactly what you’d expect from a pricey resort that catered to business conferences.

She motioned toward a sign that pointed the way to the elevators. “I want to drop off my old glasses and the contact supplies in my room before I go to the next presentation. No need to lug them around unless I have to.”

“Makes sense. I’ll walk you to the elevators then.” Though there was no reason he’d need to go that far, he was loath to leave her. It had been the most intriguing couple of hours he could remember in years. Emergency contact lenses, randomly inviting someone to his house, dodging fondlers, discussing family politics. Not his average Saturday.

The elevator bank was tucked away in a quiet hallway, out of the way of the foot traffic in the lobby. He ran his thumb over her knuckles and decided it was time to nail down some plans to meet up again. “So. About dinner tomorrow.”

She pulled her hand from his to reach for the call button, but paused and looked back. “You were serious?”

“Of course. I need to start showing you the area, remember?” It was as good an excuse as any.

“My tour guide, right.” She tapped a finger against his chest.

He covered her hand with his, and her warm palm lay over his heart. Her eyes met his and heat flared between them, just that easily. She ran her tongue along her bottom lip, and he moved nearer to her. She shifted, and her back pressed to the wall beside the call button panel.

He propped his forearm next to her head and leaned even closer, into her personal space, but she didn’t protest. Before he left her to her conference, he wanted another taste. There was nothing wrong with a little reminder that their attraction burned hotter than a raging forest fire, was there?

Brushing his lips over hers, he felt her breath catch, and that did nothing to cool the lust singeing his veins. He sucked her upper lip into his mouth, scraping his teeth over the plump flesh. Her arms slipped around his waist, and she pressed into him. Sweet Jesus, that meant her soft breasts were pillowed against his chest. A low groan broke from him, and his heart picked up speed until his pulse raced. Their tongues twined, dueling for control of the kiss.

Damn, she tasted amazing.

Her fingertips edged under the bottom of his T-shirt, stroking over the skin on his back. The feel of her hands on him made him shudder, and his dick went diamond hard. But it wasn’t enough just to have her touch him. He needed more, his body demanded more, and that was the only thought that screamed through his mind.
More
. He crowded her against the wall, fitting himself to her sweet curves. She arched into him, lifting one leg to hook over his hip. He took the opening and settled his erection in the crux of her thighs, grinding into her softness. She whimpered against his mouth, and their kiss went wild, all lips and teeth and tongues. Her nails dug into his back, and he arched into her, pushing forward and retreating in a mimic of the act his cock craved.

After releasing her lips, he nipped and sucked his way down the side of her neck, biting gently on the tendon at the base. The little noises she made drove him crazy, and he would give just about anything to be in a more private locale.

As if she’d read his mind, she asked, “Do you want to come up to my room?”

Did he? His body screamed yes, but his brain hit the brakes. Sanity returned in a rush, and he pulled back, easing his weight away from her.

What the hell was he doing? A kiss was one thing, but a nooner with a woman he’d met two hours ago was madness. Everything he’d done with her so far had been uncharacteristic for him, and maybe he needed to think about that before he did something stupid.

Not to mention, every instinct told him that getting hot and heavy so fast was not the right approach with this woman. Like him, she was the type to regret it and kick herself for her lack of restraint. Then he figured she’d refuse to see him again, wanting no reminders of her folly. If there was one thing he’d noticed about her, it was that she was a bit of a control freak—precisely lining up paperwork, defensive about her male-dominated career, making sure her food didn’t touch. Since he wanted to see her again for as long as she was in town, freaking her out wasn’t something he was interested in.

Because he wanted a chance to figure out what it was about her that made him react instead of think—that made him be more open and honest in one day than he usually was in years of knowing someone. Sending her running wouldn’t assuage his curiosity…or his desires.

He sighed. “I want to.”

“But you stepped back.” She folded her arms over her breasts, covering her beaded nipples.

He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Not because I wanted to—because I think we both needed me to.”

“Explain that.” Her eyes narrowed, making it clear he’d better do some fast talking.

“I like you. You’re sarcastic as hell, funny, smart, no bullshit. I want to spend time with you while you’re here. Lots of time. All your spare time.” He skimmed his fingers along the tips of her shoulder-length hair. “But if we hop in the sack within hours of meeting?” He shook his head. “Come on, now. You’d wonder where your self-control went and decide you’d be better off not seeing me. I don’t want that.”

Her eyebrows arched, her tone going cool. “You’re so sure I’ll see you again after turning me down now?”

“Not sure, just hopeful.” Sweat broke out at his hairline, and he had to fight the impulse to fidget. “Gambling that holding off in the present will pay off in the future.”

“You realize I’m only here for a week, right?” She waved a hand between them. “No matter what happens here, it ends when I fly home next Saturday morning. Maybe you’re just blowing one-seventh of your opportunities.”

“Maybe.” He caught her hand and squeezed. She didn’t pull away, but her fingers were stiff in his grip. “Assuming I would have had six more opportunities and you wouldn’t have kicked your own ass later and talked yourself out of inviting me up to your room ever again.” He dipped down to meet her eyes, trying to convey his seriousness. “I don’t want to have to sneak out of here because you’re ashamed anyone would know you slept with me in the middle of the afternoon. I want to be able to walk out of here knowing I have an open invitation to come back.”

Mingled relief and resentment flashed in her gaze. “We’ll see.”

“The chemistry between us is intense, and that’s surprising and awesome at the same time.” He sighed, running his thumb over her knuckles. “Still…I’m not a one-night-stand kind of guy. It’s weird for me to even be angling for a one-week stand. But that’s me.”

She glanced away. “I don’t usually get involved with people I barely know. The guys I tend to sleep with are friends…with benefits.”

No surprise there. She’d said she wasn’t opposed to booty-call arrangements, though she hadn’t mentioned if that kind of arrangement was more common for her than real relationships. Somehow, he wasn’t shocked that friends-with-benefits were more her usual than not. He bent forward until his nose almost touched hers. “Don’t take me stopping as a rejection of you. Take it as me freaking out because, as I said, this thing with us is intense and I need a second to adjust.”

She appeared doubtful. “I thought you thought I was the one who was going to freak out.”

“Was I wrong?” he countered, because that was what he’d said, but he had a feeling they might be more alike on this score than either of them realized. No-strings sex with tourists really wasn’t his style. In a vacation hotspot like Gatlinburg, there were always plenty of opportunities, but he’d never considered taking any of them. Until now.

“Probably not,” she muttered.

“Even if you decide a one-week stand isn’t in the cards for us, I’d still like to take you to dinner tomorrow, show you a little of my town.” He cupped her cheek and took it as a good sign that she didn’t flinch away. “Take it as a thank you for allowing me one trip to Mema’s Hunt where I was unmolested.”

She rolled her eyes. “Buying me lunch was the thank you.”

“That deserves a bigger thank you than lunch. Trust me on this.” Especially since Bobbie Jo had been after him like a hound after a juicy steak for years, and nothing he said or did convinced her he really wasn’t interested…or that he would never change his mind. He could only pray she fell for someone else someday, but that was a thin hope after all this time.

“Lunch and dinner and tour guiding?” Camille sighed. “I might decide not to pursue anything between us, intense chemistry or not.”

“I accept that.” And he did. Both of them always had the right to say no, to change their minds. He needed a moment to process this insanity, and she did too. He was 99.999% sure he was still going to want to get to know her in every possible sense of the word tomorrow, but…shit…maybe he’d get home and come back to his senses about sleeping with tourists.

Yeah, right. And maybe the sky would fall too.

An annoyed noise erupted from her, and she wrinkled her nose. “Is it bad that I kind of wish you’d taken advantage of my offer?”

“I don’t want to take advantage.” He cupped her jaw in his palms, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I want you to go into anything we do with your eyes wide open and no regrets.”