The Virgin's Revenge (11 page)

If he was good.

Chapter Six

Amanda nuzzled her pillow, the late summer sun already warming her bed. She stretched, moaning as sleep slowly faded from her mind.

A warm kiss fluttered at the small of her back, gentle fingers settling over her bare waist. She raised her brows, pleasure seeping through her senses. Another kiss, a nip almost, before those fingertips slid over her skin to stroke her belly.

“Cole?” she asked, loath to open her eyes. This was possibly the best way ever to wake up on a Monday morning. More kisses, more strokes. The flat of his palm roving up her ribs to find her breast and claim it in a firm clasp. All the while, his tongue drew deliciously hot patterns on her back.

She gasped, his fingers plucking at her nipples. Rolling the hardened tips with a lazy determination. Her body arched, legs tangling in the sheets. His mouth found the back of her neck, his teeth dragging erotically up one side and down the other. He never let go of her breasts, either, rubbing them against each other, continuing the plucking at the tips that was about to make her lose her mind.

“Touch yourself for me,” he whispered in that shiver-inducing tone.

Oh, it would be so easy to do that. She was already parting her legs, the ache at her center growing slick and needy, but she’d had more than enough of touching herself. She wanted
his
hands on her.
His
mouth. His
everything
.

She moaned, scissoring her legs back and forth. Her wetness seemed to double at just the idea of his fingertips parting her, delving through her folds, finding the hard pebble of her clit. How long had she wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on her body? What his touch would be like as a lover? Would he be desperate? Out of his mind with passion? Or slow, using utmost control while turning her into a puddle of orgasmic bliss? Hadn’t she waited long enough to find out?

Her alarm rang, sharp and shrill as it sliced through her senses. She jumped, her eyes opening wide and startled as she rolled onto her back…and found no one behind her. She curled her fingers into fists, angry when residual shocks fluttered through her belly at her own touch.

“Son of a…” Damn it! It happened again! She sat up and looked around, just to make sure she hadn’t accidentally knocked Cole off the bed. No trace of a six-foot-tall man with long legs, edible abs and longish dark hair. Amanda flopped backward into her pillows with a small scream of frustration.

So all the delicious things that had seemed so clear in her head through the night were just more fictions of her repressed imagination. Great.

She could just
kick
someone. Preferably Cole. Maybe her brother. Mostly Cole. After all, it was
his
fault she was so worked up.

Oh, she’d had her little fantasies get the better of her before. Who wouldn’t, in her situation? But this morning’s dream she could put squarely on the shoulders of the man who’d spent the night before stirring up her desires like a snake charmer, leading her down his path just to get what he wanted.

Which, apparently, despite all the obvious hints, was not a path to her bedroom.

“Best score overall wins,” he’d said, his dark eyes making promises to various parts of her body that he definitely did not keep.

The minigolf course wasn’t new. She’d been to it a dozen times with her younger brothers and even with Susie, when the idea of going to yet another bar was just too boring to be borne. She should have been able to navigate it and kick the ass of The Uncoordinated One with ease. But that wasn’t what happened.

The first hole had been a simple downhill, three-stroke par. Down the zigzag, through the pipe, into the cup. Easy. For Cole, it had been. For
her
, he’d kept her laughing, messing up her strokes right when it counted with well-timed jokes about her brothers. The second and third holes had gone much the same way, until her aggressive, competitive nature had noticed she was four strokes back.

That was when he’d pulled out the big guns.

The long, wordless stares at her legs, gazes she could feel inching up the back of her thighs. But the worst, the absolute worst, was when he’d take away the putter and twine their fingers together as they walked between holes.

Bastard!

She’d thought she’d make it up on the back six. Surely the windmill would do him in, but all his endless video gaming had made him an expert at timing.

Blinded by his unrelenting interest and all the small, caring touches he’d showered on her, she hadn’t seen the trap until it was too late. Suddenly, it was the last hole and she had no hope whatsoever of catching up. That’s when the jerk got a hole in one. On a par four!

He’d laughed when she’d threatened to intimately acquaint him with his putter, the jerk. In fact, the only reason he’d gotten out of that park without a bent club up his ass was because he’d taken the starch out of her with another kiss. A slow one, with his tongue gliding into her mouth and teasing the corners of her lips. She’d gotten drunk on his chocolatey taste, the feel of his chest against hers and the tempting stroke of his thumbs slipping under the waist of her panties through the back of her dress.

At least she’d gotten that. The stunned look on his face when he’d pulled away suddenly had actually been sort of worth not winning. As if he were as floored as she was at the deliciousness of their mouths coming together.

He’d gotten her melty enough to go to dinner with him, where they talked about her plans for her house and—of all things—her work schedule. She almost didn’t want to know why her hours were of such importance to him. Without a doubt, the man was up to something—separate from trying to get her to marry him—but she didn’t have enough pieces to guess what it could be. No matter how she’d tried to get it out of him.

By the time they’d gotten back to her place, she’d actually had it in her mind that she’d get him inside. And then
inside
. It seemed reasonable, she thought, but nope. He’d left her at her front door with a damn near chaste press of his lips to hers and a promise to see her the next day.

The ice cream in her freezer had paid a very dear price for that disappointment.

And now, so had her body. It was humming, throbbing, still waiting for a release that wasn’t coming. She grabbed one of her pillows with the lacy edges and covered her face with it, allowing herself a full-grown scream this time. Why hold it in? There was no one anywhere near her bed to protest.

No doubt about it. This seduction plan was not going the way it was supposed to. First of all,
he
was the one supposed to be getting seduced.
He
needed to be lured into her bed and kept there until she’d satisfied every question and desire she could come up with. And she had so very many.

Many, many,
maaaaaaany
.

There had to be a good reason he wasn’t taking her obvious cues. A really good one, because despite Cole having morals—usually—it wasn’t like she was being subtle about her interest. Not in that dress. Not with those kisses. She couldn’t help it. Being blunt was all she had—sexual sophistication wasn’t in her skill set yet. But bluntness could be sexy, right?

She thought back to the look on his face when he’d kicked her tire and sent her car smashing into the ground.

Okay, maybe a little finesse might be in order. Something Cole must have realized because he had certainly used it last night to win.

She frowned, that annoying crease between her brow tingling as she hugged her knees to her chest. He’d been determined to distract her. He’d done the same thing—minus the kisses and hand-holding—while kicking her ass at Lord of the Rings Trivial Pursuit. In fact, he got that same glint in his eyes while speaking Elvish to confuse her brothers—
That bastard! He played me!

But…why?

That question brought her up short. He all but had a red carpet invitation to her bedroom after that game, and he hadn’t taken it. He had Locke’s engraved permission slip to do whatever was necessary to make her fall in love with him and he hadn’t taken advantage of that, either. What could he possibly plan to get out of winning that game? She thought back, considering angles and how they worked for Cole.

Date girl you’ve known forever.
Scary, she will likely expect commitment
.

She responds well to kissing. And touching. And her dress is practically designed to escort you to third base.
Excellent, but will I have to call her tomorrow? Probably. Definite no.

Don’t need a bet to score a homerun with her, but you do everything you can to ensure you win selection rights on the next date and leave your overexcited date all by herself for the rest of the night.

The Cole in her head was as cryptically silent as the real-life one.

What are you trying to do, Cole?

If it were any other situation, she’d think he was trying to lead her into something she didn’t want to do. But Cole would have no reason to trick her into anything. He already knew she’d probably do whatever as long as he asked. Normally, she was dumb like that.

Then again, from his perspective, she wasn’t exactly acting normal, was she?

So why hadn’t he asked, even once, why she wasn’t?

Her breath caught.

He
knew
! He knew she was up to something.

No… He couldn’t…

But he might. He was always the first to figure out when she was doing something sneaky to get back at her brothers. He never let it slip, either, but he always knew. The question she needed to be asking was…what could he have figured out?

She gnawed on her thumbnail, thinking for a few seconds. The only time she’d said anything was last night in the bathroom, to Susie. Sure, he’d been at the table when she got back, but she should have known better than to spill without making sure she wasn’t overheard. That was Rule One in this town.

She did a fast recap on what she’d said to her friend, her stomach dropping like a screaming rollercoaster dip. Mostly her evil plan to use him for sex and drop him, but also that she knew Locke was behind his sudden interest. Not good, but what had her groaning most were Susie’s arguments about Amanda’s crush on him. What if he’d heard that?

She rubbed her eyes to keep from kicking herself. Not that it would help. Hell, blinding herself at this point wouldn’t help. She forced a calming breath. This wasn’t the end of the world or even her plans. It didn’t matter if he knew.
If
was the operative word. There was no way to know that he’d listened in. He could also just be up to something all on his own. In either case, she couldn’t just sit there all day pondering the possibilities going through Cole’s head. She had to open the store today, and she still needed a shower.

But the question plagued her even as she washed, dressed and hopped into her new car. Cole wanted her compliance for something, and whatever that something could be, it definitely wasn’t sex.

Which meant it
was
something she should be seriously concerned about.

Usually, she’d only be a little nervous, because Cole was too nice to do anything as worrisome as what her brothers could think up. But
this
Cole, the one who’d agreed to let Locke control him—another unfathomable mystery that plagued her—she just wasn’t sure what he might be up to.

She pulled up behind the Suite Shoppe, mired in her thoughts. In the end, it really didn’t matter what Cole was up to. She wasn’t going to outthink him until she knew more about this next date. Her only option was to worry about her own plans—how to make her brother realize he had no right to control her and how to get Cole to give in.

Locke was easy. All she had to do was make sure her antics were getting back to him. That would practically take care of itself, once she got started.

Getting Cole to get over his innate fear of Locke, on the other hand, not to mention into her bed, wasn’t going to happen overnight, no matter how eager she was. Last night proved that. She’d have to ease him into it. Get him comfortable. Work the bases, to stick with the sexual vernacular she knew.

Wait, did men
have
a second base?

She’d have to ask Susie.

For now, first base had been achieved with that kiss in Shaky Jake’s and after the game the night before. He liked kissing her, too. That much she could tell. And she
really
liked kissing him. Liked the taste of him, the feel. She sighed, remembering that especially. The way he held her, not so tightly that he hurt her, but…urgent. Like he didn’t want her going anywhere. Ever.

Like he was losing himself in her, the way she lost sense of anything but him as soon as his lips touched hers.

She gave herself a full minute to savor the dangerous seduction of that thought. But only one minute. Not long enough to get carried away.

Tempting or not, she couldn’t let herself get sucked into thinking that any of this seduction—his or hers—was real. It wasn’t. Cole didn’t have relationships, and she couldn’t forget that. She had to emulate his cavalier attitude. Sex was
just
sex to him. It could be to her too. Or it would be, if she could get the man to give her what she wanted. She’d just have to take a page out of his book and trick him into it.

“And I’m going to have to up the ante,” she whispered to herself, leaning on the steering wheel with her chin on her hands. But how? Being new to this sucked. Her buttons were all too obvious to him. There had to be a way to push a few more of his.

Amanda bit her lip before getting out of the car. The answers weren’t going to come to her here. He’d asked her to be ready to go out after work, in casual clothes she wouldn’t mind getting dirty. She could be ready. And she could definitely be ready to get dirty…

Cole walked up the steps to Amanda’s house, the late afternoon sun warm on his shoulders and a surprising sense of anticipation putting a spring in his step. She wouldn’t see this coming. If all worked out as planned, she wouldn’t think to slug him for luring her into this. He rang the doorbell and waited.