Free Swept Away by Toni Blake Page A

up there wrestling with herself, wanting to invite him into her bed just as much as he wanted to be there.
    “Yes,” she finally admitted, grudgingly.
    “I don’t know, being a guy, but I’m betting that’s a lousy place for a burn.”
    “Only if I were wearing a bra. But I didn’t even bring any, so I don’t have to worry about that.”
    His groin tightened reflexively as a vision of her bared breasts came back to mind, and he did what came naturally—kept trying to seduce. And since he was tired, his words came out with unedited, full-on lust. “Do you have any idea how much I want you right now, kitten? How much I want to kiss those pretty breasts and make them feel better? How much I want to take what you wanted to give me that night?”
    Above him, she stayed quiet. And that alone made him a little harder than he already was. Because she wasn’t yelling at him, offended, angry—she wasn’t saying, “How dare you!” or “Leave me alone!” or the host of other things a woman who really wasn’t interested would probably be flinging at him right now. No, she was blessedly silent, weighing, considering... wanting. She would probably turn him down again, but he could still feel that wanting practically emanating from the bed, seeping from her pores.
    Finally, her voice wafted softly through the stillness. “That night was a long time ago, Brock.”
    “Too long. And my fault,” he added, his voice low, steady. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you.”
    More silence. More wanting. The room pulsed with it.
    That’s when she cut through the silence with grating words. “I think I liked you better when you were the jerky silent type.”
    “And what am I now?”
    “The jerky... more-talkative type.”
    He laughed quietly. “Sorry, kitten—just your bad luck my job forced me to learn to communicate.” The truth was, his job had changed him in bigger ways, too. It had taught him to be less angry and rebellious, and it had made him grow up and face the world head-on. If he’d been more mature back when he’d known Kat, he’d have handled her differently. Hell, he’d have handled a lot of things differently.
    He thought again of Clark Spencer and wondered if her father was pressuring her to marry this guy. It all sounded too... tidy, her marrying Spencer’s best friend’s son. A little too “all in the family.” Especially given that Kat had a wild streak, which he’d seen firsthand and had sensed even long before that. She’d have been the last person he’d expect to marry some straitlaced lawyer who was probably a clone of her dad.
    That notion made his stomach pinch. He knew Spencer loved Kat—and maybe Brock had once even been a little jealous that someone had a parent who loved them that much—but he also wondered if you could love too much. If that was possible, Clark Spencer was guilty as charged. And Kat didn’t need yet another man smothering her.
    And as for her plan to stay out here by herself right up until two days before her wedding, he couldn’t help thinking it was sort of like running away, maybe wanting to avoid the wedding as much as possible for as long as she could. He just didn’t believe Kat was really into hooking up with Mr. Family-Friend-and-Lawyer for life.
    “This guy you’re marrying,” he said, his voice breaking through the darkness again. “What about him?”
    “Is he good in bed?”
    “Why—do you want to sleep with him?”
    He smiled. “Funny, kitten.” When she didn’t answer further, he said, “Well? Is he?” “Is it any of your business?”
    “You didn’t say yes,” he pointed out.
    “So?”
    “If he was, you’d have just said yes.”
    She stayed quiet and he figured she was probably concocting ways to kill him, until finally she replied, “If you must know... we, uh, haven’t really... done it yet.”
    Now it was Brock who bolted upright to glare at her shadowy form across the bed, illuminated just slightly by the security bulb