The Virgin's Revenge (14 page)

“It would make me
happy
,” she finally muttered. Because it would.

“You’re only saying that because we haven’t done it.”

Her mouth quirked as a thought occurred to her. “Why? Are you no good at it?”

Cole lifted his head, treating her to a mock glare. “I’d smack your ass for that, but that wouldn’t actually punish you.”

She didn’t know, actually. “I have a book about just that—”

“We’re not having sex, Amanda.”

Her glare was considerably less mocking.

“But I think I can help you learn to fly. Just give me a chance to show you.”

Dammit, he looked so earnest and like it was important to him. How was she supposed to say no to that?

She glanced at the bed longingly.

Cole’s touch at her cheek became a caress, stroking the backs of his fingers down her neck then up again. She shivered, leaning into it.

“Don’t you think you deserve every step of the way to that bed? Especially the first time?”

God, please, don’t let that be a virgin blush on my face.
“What do you mean?”

“There’s more to sex than just going at it.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then another along her cheek. She turned her head to give him more room. “There’s not much satisfaction in that. You should have build-up. Anticipation. Temptation. Seduction.” He kept kissing, sometimes a nip, sometimes a nibble, punctuating his husky words on his way down her neck.

And oh, it was heaven. His hands slid over her shoulders and down her back, steering her into an arch, his stubbled chin tickling as it pushed open the lapel of her robe. Her arms snaked up over his shoulders, locking around his neck to pull him closer. His breath, hot on her skin, created a trail of sensation that tingled over the upper slope of her breast.

She whimpered when he ignored the ache in her breast and went back up toward her ear. He held her firmly against him, until there was nothing between them but fabric, finally sealing their lips again for a deep, brain-scrambling kiss.

“By the time a man comes into your bed,” he whispered, his voice so thick now it was a wonder he could get the words out, “into your body, you should already feel made love to. Wanted. Needed. Trusted. That’s when you can enjoy it the way it’s meant to be. That’s what makes it special.”

Almost drunk from the way he’d made all her senses spin in different directions, she sagged against him, but she wasn’t willing to lay her head on his shoulder and just accept his edict. She stared at him through a gaze that had gone as melty as her insides. “If everyone waited for all that, why would a woman ever want to be with anyone else?”

Something dark crossed his face, a scowl that disappeared before she was even sure she’d seen it. He settled her on the edge of her bed, making sure she was steady before he took his hands away and took a step back.

He turned and walked out of her room, his final words on the subject drawing an unwilling whimper she could only hope he didn’t hear.

“That’s exactly the point.”

Cole pulled up behind Amanda’s Mini in front of Halifax Custom and Car Repair. He turned off the sedan she was returning, pulling the key from the ignition but making no move to get out of the car.

What the hell am I doing?

He’d asked himself that question over and over again since walking out of Amanda’s bedroom. Hell, on the
way
out of Amanda’s bedroom. The answer was always the same.

I have no fucking clue.

This whole thing had gone so far out of control, he had no idea which end was up anymore. Locke wanted a husband for his sister. Amanda wanted kiss-off sex and control of her life. Those two things stood on opposite ends of a spectrum. What seemed to be swinging wildly left and right was what
he
wanted.

He
didn’t
want to get married. That much hadn’t changed. But not for the reasons Amanda thought. He just couldn’t imagine trusting someone that deeply into his life. Few things were as lonely as two people who could barely stand to be in the same room together, tied together by position or finances. Or, God, just the fear of facing the world alone. As if alone could possibly be worse than living each day in utter contempt.

The worst part was that his parents had probably loved each other once. They’d loved him too, as their child, not as their bargaining chip. He remembered. When he was so young he almost wondered if he’d made it up. The two of them, laughing, holding each other as they watched him unwrapping Christmas presents. He wasn’t sure when the laughter had disappeared, only that it had faded slowly. Their time together growing less and less. Eventually, the sniping started. Then the cold silences, broken only by occasional fiery explosions of rage, usually over something he’d done or not done. It took years to realize those arguments really had nothing to do with him at all. They were just opportunities to hurt one another. A way to inflict pain or blame or, best of all, shame. Thirty-three years of marriage and still dragging along. As if they thought the until-death-do-them-part section of their vows had any validity after they’d broken so many of the others.

He knew it wasn’t like that for everyone. There were tons of happily committed people in RDC. Sometimes, when he was alone in his room, unable to sleep, he wished he had what they did. The belonging those couples all seemed to share. That he could let go enough to fill that emptiness in him. Trust just wasn’t a commodity he had much of. It was limited to a very few, one of whom did happen to be Amanda, but he couldn’t see going through with Locke’s edict no matter how tempting she was. He cared about her too damn much. She was important to him. She’d never be a pointless date or someone he could be circumspect about never seeing again.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel until it hurt.

Never seeing Amanda again… No. Just fucking
no
.

It took effort to make his fingers relax. So much effort, he wondered if it would just be easier to slam his face into the middle of the wheel instead. If it wouldn’t set off the horn repeatedly, he figured it would help. Until half the town came out to see why some dumbass was trying to knock himself out with a steering wheel. And when they asked him why he was being such a moron?

Yeah, he didn’t have an answer for that. Just tight feelings in his chest, throat, balls and brain.

She mattered to him in a way he couldn’t quite explain, even to himself. They had shared memories, a vested interest in the welfare of her family. If this mess ended the way they both feared it would, he’d lose her. Not because he’d ignore her, but because she’d push him out. Her pride and her embarrassment would make sure of that. Not to mention she’d feel betrayed and probably hate him for lying to her. Couldn’t forget that part. Dreaded that part.

Twelve years of friendship shouldn’t be thrown away like that, no matter what Locke thought. But it would be, if he couldn’t find a way out from between Locke and a hard place.

That answer wasn’t forthcoming either.

On his own, like now, he could think of all the things he was supposed to be doing. Could reason it out rationally. Decisively. But when Amanda was within reach, her body tempting, her lips pink and shiny, all he could think about was how much he wanted to taste her. Touch her.
Feel
her… If he had an ounce less morality—or would that be an ounce more courage?—he could be in bed with her right now, buried deep while she panted out his name. And God knew, once he was touching her, lost in her, he’d completely lost track of why Locke was wrong to want them together.

He scrubbed a hand over his face now, almost wishing he hadn’t insisted on being a less shitty person than his parents. Completely by accident, they’d instilled a basic code of honor in him. He simply never wanted to act like either of them. He hated lying, hated manipulations and he despised secrets, but here he was, doing them all as if the ends justified the means.

Because this time, they kind of did.

Amanda deserved a chance to find some self-reliance. To learn to spread her wings and fly like she dreamed. But he was hurting her every time he walked away from her.

He willed his cock to settle down, memories of her lips, her taste and feel inundating him, stirring the damn thing up again. Not that it helped. He’d tried willing it, adjusting it and cursing it not twenty minutes ago and his body was still on fire because of her. Because she’d tasted sweet and sinful. Her body had been warm and firm, giving and inviting all at once.

Wouldn’t Burke—owner of this precision grease pit—get a kick from seeing one of his best customers walk in with a gorgeous blonde and a rampaging hard-on? Probably not. Then again, Burke might assume it had something to do with the customized cars being worked on and think nothing of it.

There was something so wrong with that guy.

Cole groaned to himself, watching Amanda get out of her car. Full curves, each one illuminated by late afternoon sunlight. Long, long legs and that mane of white-gold hair. All she was doing was standing up, but his mind was converting it to slow motion, 70s soft porn. Taut nipples poking through the cotton of her shirt. Golden skin gleaming, her head tipped back and revealing the long, graceful lines of her neck…

And he’d called Billy a peeping tom?

Shaking off the illusion didn’t do much for his ill-timed erection. Now that she was out of her care, he’d have to get out of this one. He glanced to the seat where the small notebook and pen set he’d brought with him to her house was waiting. Blue cover, blue pen. Just the way she liked. It might give him a little bit of cover for a few extra minutes, at least. He grabbed both, opened the door and stepped out.

Thankfully, Amanda wasn’t so much waiting for him as for the dark-haired beast of a guy with the red oil rag in his hands headed their way.

“You’re late.” Burke Halifax’s black brows were drawn together over a pair of bright blue eyes and a face Cole thought women probably considered pretty good-looking in an ugly kind of way. Squared everything and not a smile to be seen. Those only came out around his wife, Cassie. Those two could bicker like school kids if you caught them at the right time, but mostly they genuinely seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Burke had been considered something of a ladies’ man in the years before their marriage while Cass…well, she was complicated.

“Sorry about that, we had an emergency.” Cole glanced at Amanda for a second before extending his hand to the slightly older man. “We brought your car back for you, though.”

Burke’s cool gaze took in the nearly untouched sedan, and Cole could tell he practically measured how close Amanda had moved to his side. There may not be questions later, but Cole knew better than to think Burke wasn’t putting a few things together. “Not your taste, eh? I said as much to Locke when he asked me to find you something. You know your brother though, Miss Jackman.”

Amanda nodded.

“Well, if you’re ready, I’ve still got about an hour left for today.”

Amanda stopped nodding. “An hour for what?”

Burke’s scowl was dark enough to kill innocent baby kittens. “You didn’t tell her?”

Cole shrugged. “I thought we could surprise her.”

“Surprise me with what?”

“Lessons,” Burke answered, his deep voice almost booming. “Cole here thought you could use a few lessons on Basic Car Upkeep 101.”

Amanda’s head probably should have been on a swivel the way she was swinging it back and forth between them.

“Remember that date choice I won?” Cole made his voice as mild as possible. “I thought, what better way to spend it than doing something you’d enjoy?”

Her left eye squinted a bit, and he could tell she was thinking of which possible direction to aim one of her judo throws with his body. “Hanging out in a garage is not a date.”

The corner of Burke’s mouth curled up. The imperiously raised brow and too-amused glance he tossed Cole said Burke was absolutely going to listen and see how he got out of this one.

“Sure it is. I figured if you’re going to learn how to take care of things on your own, you should learn from someone who knows best, right? I had Burke teach me to handle my bike until I could take the engine apart and put it back together with my eyes closed.”

Burke snorted, but Cole decided to ignore him.

“Locke can’t get pissed about you changing your own tires if he knows Burke’s teaching you how,” Cole reminded.

“He damn well better not, I’ll bill his ass into the ground if he tries. “

Amanda finally relaxed at that cantankerous grumble.

“So every Monday for the next two months, after your shift, you just head on over here, and he’ll spend an hour or two teaching you how to take care of the basics and any emergencies with the car.” Hell, she’d be able to fine tune the president’s ride with confidence after a few lessons with the cranky perfectionist.

“Are you serious?” There it was, Amanda’s smile. Her face lit up as the corners of her lips rose with growing pleasure. “You’re willing to do that?”

Burke nodded, his craggy face softening. “Cole told me what happened with your old Pacer. Couldn’t let something like that happen again. Someone could have gotten killed, especially you.” He eyed the Mini. “This one should be easier for you to handle. Let’s get a look in the engine and we can talk fluids.”

Her cheeks pinked as Burke moved toward her car. Not the pretty pink Cole was so fond of either. This was the embarrassed pink, but she couldn’t argue, least of all not with Burke’s matter-of-fact tone. She was about to follow when Cole snagged her arm to stop her. “Here, take this.”

She looked down at the notebook set questioningly.

“You’re gonna need to take notes. Burke isn’t big on repeating himself. Or waiting.” In fact, the man was already reaching inside the Mini for the hood release.

“How’d you get him to do this?” she asked, falling into slow step next to him when he nudged her toward her car, not even flinching at the feel of his hand on the small of her back.

Now if Cole could just figure out when he’d put his hand there.