She's not the one he wants...
Drew McKenna is obsessed with the woman who saved his family’s business. She's the last woman he should want, but his dreams are flooded with the sultry, curvy woman who gets under his skin. Can he resist giving into his desire to have the gorgeous woman under him?
But she is the one he needs...
Glory Pierce gave up on Drew the second he flung vicious insults her way. The harder she tries to forget how deep those scars run, however, the more he invades her thoughts. When tragedy strikes, Glory is forced to put aside her anger and work with the man she despises. But as they mix business with pleasure, the heat between them reaches fever pitch, secrets are revealed, and passions are stirred up in ways neither of them can ignore.
Be Warned: sex toys, voyeurism
“How’s your dad doing?”
Her heart rate kicked up a few notches. The last thing she needed was more of Drew McKenna tonight, dammit. Raw from the long-buried emotions about her father, having him around could only cause more chaos. And the usual heartache.
But damn if he wasn’t hell-to-the-oh-my-god sexy as he leaned against his Harley. Arms crossed, biceps bulged beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt tucked into the waistband of his blue jeans. It appeared multiple finger swipes pushed his hair back to maintain the untamable ringlets that fell over his forehead and curled around his ears. Those sexy strands were one of the best things she loved most.
Love? Ugh, as if, lady. Speak for yourself.
Glory shoved the nagging voice away, unwilling to handle such nonsense tonight.
“Why are you still here?”
He shrugged. “Thought I’d offer you a ride home.”
“I don’t need your charity, Drew. Since when do you care what I do?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to eat them back again. Like a bull poked, his nostrils flared as usual and reminded her that their tumultuous but civil relationship always ended in an argument. And too much resentment.
“Let’s not do this again.” Drew stood, and waved a hand at his back seat. “You’ve had a long night, you’re worried for your old man, and I’m too damn exhausted to go toe-to-toe with you, Glory. For once, please shut up. Can we put aside whatever keeps us at one another’s throat for one night?”
Surprised, her jaw fell open and her eyes widened. Had Drew McKenna sounded reasonable and mature? A foreign impression in the years she’d known him, but she supposed he had a point. Over a decade of combating with him was now tiresome. How she’d allowed it to go on for so long was ridiculous, but wearing her coat of armor against him was her only defense.
“Are you coming or not?” He sat astride the bike, a second helmet in his hand and extended toward her.
“I’m only doing this because my car is in the shop and I’m too tired to wait for a cab. You better not get me killed on this contraption, McKenna. I swear, I’ll haunt your ass forever if you do.” Glory grabbed the helmet and placed it on her head, then adjusted the strap beneath her chin. She moved closer, made sure her duffle bag was over both shoulders tightly, and lifted one leg over the seat.
“You haunt me now, woman. But don’t worry, you’re safe with me.” The engine cut out many of his words and Glory wasn’t sure what he meant about haunting him, but she must have heard him wrong. Her gut instincts knew better than to trust him.
“Ready?” he glanced back at her.
After a hard swallow, she set her hands at his waist. Her body shivered as his warmth curled around her fingers.
“You have to hold on tighter than that, doll.” Drew grabbed both her wrists and dragged her forward until her chin hit his back. She crossed her arms at the front of his waist and held on.
The bike vibrated beneath her as he gunned the engine and roared through the parking lot and into the streets.
Her nipples tightened beneath her bra as she rested against his hot back and his enjoyable rich aroma of sandalwood wafted into her nose. Glory leaned a cheek on his shoulder, closed her eyes and blocked out the buildings rushing by. His potent scent reminded her of one night, so long ago.
A memory that never stopped breaking her heart. No matter how much she tried, it played in her head over and over, when she least expected it and left her vulnerable and aching. With her forehead on his back, the vibration of the machine beneath her ass pulsed through her. Shit. A reminder of how long it had been since she’d been with a man was the last thing she needed. Though her dating life sucked and there had been a couple men in her life over the last decade, she’d hoped the heartbreaking memories would fade quickly. But the more she wished to forget the past, the less and less pleasure she found in dating because she couldn’t erase the memories.
During the nights at Controlled Iris—as she succumbed to her voyeuristic tendencies that appeased her well enough—never stopped her from going back again and again. The small solace of pleasure she sought there kept her sane with the unattended needs and hunger coursing through her often. One exciting night a decade ago had ruined her for life. She wanted the same thrill of pleasure and the powerful delirious ecstasy again. But it was unattainable.
He was unattainable.
Nothing compared to that one night. And while Controlled Iris fed a few of her baser needs and fetishes, it wasn’t enough. Though it wasn’t a place of orgies or bondage or chains and whips, Controlled Iris opened their doors for those who loved to watch, but not engage. Through glass windows or up on balconies looking into each room, those who entered could witness the carnal appetites of others. Patrons weren’t allowed to join in the sex, only to witness the bliss of voyeurism and the thrill of being a peeping Tom—or Thomasina in her case.
Though she had no trouble getting herself off, Controlled Iris pushed her harder and drove her faster to the edge of pleasure for when she returned home. Role playing and the uninhibited prowess of each person, men and women, showed her more about sex than she’d ever thought possible. One night of pleasure did not make her an expert in any way, and CI filled her curiosity.
She lifted her head when the bike came to a halt. So lost in her thoughts, she’d missed the short ride home. Drew shut off the engine. He slid off the bike, undid the helmet and handed it to him. He scooted back and got off.
“No need to stick around.”
“Not even a cup of coffee to repay me for going out of my way?”
Glory rolled her eyes and started up the porch steps. “You don’t drink coffee and I didn’t ask for the ride, you offered. Good night, Drew.” As if fire chased her, she hustled to her front door and stuck the key in the lock.
“We should talk, Glory,” his voice filled her left ear, and startled her. She whipped around, and found herself pressed against the door. Shit. She didn’t need to get trapped by him tonight.
“You’re too close. Back off. And we have nothing to discuss.” Body quivering from his closeness, she gazed up into his dark eyes. Lightheaded, Glory inhaled a shaky breath deep into her lungs. How evil was it to tempt her with such deliciousness when her heart and soul already ached from ripping emotions?
“Haven’t we done this Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing long enough?”
“Really, dude?” she scoffed. “That’s what you compare us to? Two gun-wielding married assassins who lie to one another? When have I ever lied to you?” Glory didn’t know if the comparison was accurate or not. They weren’t married, and they weren’t assassins either, but the sexual chemistry and tension between the Smith duo was always tumultuous and charged with chaos. She supposed there was justification for that comparison.
Drew crowded in on her, and she lifted her hands to his chest. Her knees shook as the heat of his skin beneath his shirt warmed her palms. The motherfucker didn’t play fair.
“I’m not the only one who gets turned on whenever we’re around each other. And you can’t deny it.”
The sudden ringing in her ears confused her. His words registered but the loud trilling ring sounded familiar. Relieved, she wrenched open her front door, and glanced back at Drew. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing here but years of acquaintance and we’re not even pseudo-friends. Good night, again.”
She slammed the door shut and rushed over to the phone on the side table in her living room and glanced at the call display. Freddie. The last person she wanted to talk to. She let it go to voice mail.
The sound of the Harley’s engine firing caught her attention. Glory leaned against the wall, arms wrapped around her middle as confusion washed over her. Why was this happening now? Life had been trucking along happily without Drew in her life. She had enough to deal with right now.