Naughty Little Wishes (Birthday Dare) Read online

  Jasmine’s cell chimed with a call. “Sorry. I better take this. It’s Vanessa.”

  “Devin Wynn’s assistant? She was a blast at the barbecue. I like her.”

  “Good because she’s possibly my new, sane best friend. Jealous?” Jasmine shot her a syrupy smile and answered the phone. “Hi. No, I’m having lunch with Tab.”

  Tab glanced at her watch. Nearly time to drive Jasmine to the airport. They didn’t get much girl time these days back in Dallas. She’d set aside three weeks for her style-consult clients in Florida, hoping she and Jasmine would have a chance to catch up, but, once again, their schedules hadn’t matched. Two weeks from now, Jasmine would fly back to Texas, and she had clients to see in Virginia after leaving Florida. But it was all good. Jasmine having a couple of weeks with Ethan trumped everything. She deserved happiness.

  Tab toyed with her coffee cup. Maybe someday she’d get lucky in the guy department, too, but time with her clients often got in the way of serious relationships. She didn’t have a psych degree, but closets made the perfect confessionals. Embracing change wasn’t just about clothes. Her clients faced fears and found their motivation in life. As she got to know them, and more about their dreams, she offered advice and firm nudges in the right direction.

  Jasmine sighed in sympathy into the phone. “I’m sure if you talk to Devin, he’ll understand. If you’re sick, you can’t go to the party tonight… I wish I could take your place, but my flight leaves in a couple of hours. Are you sure you don’t know someone who can fill in?”

  A party with Devin Wynn? Definitely not a hardship. Unlike his partner, Devin was not only gorgeous, but he had a sense of humor and a stylish wardrobe. She could use a reason to get dressed up and mingle. Her first appointment wasn’t until tomorrow afternoon. She could drive to Jacksonville in the morning. All she needed was a place to spend the night.

  Tab flagged Jasmine’s attention and pointed to herself.

  Jasmine snorted in disbelief.

  “Hey. What am I, a pig in a tutu?” Tab raised her voice. “She needs someone to fill in. Tell her I’ll do it.”

  Jasmine closed her eyes. “That was Tab… I know. Gee, such a peach… Yeah, but she’ll need a place to stay… Okay… I’ll give her the keys… Uh-huh, I’ll tell her. Bye.”

  “So”—Tab smiled—“Will Devin like me better in red or the fawn-colored dress I showed you?”

  Jasmine gave her the patented stinky eye for the second time. “He won’t care.”

  Chapter Three

  Drew leaned in and pumped his legs faster on the Kestrel. His new love. Sleek, gorgeous, capable of handling speed on the straight-aways and hugging the curves. The power he generated with his legs flowed into the pedals of the bike. Wind cooled the sweat wicking from his blue-and-white jersey and cycling shorts. A fleeting sense of freedom rushed over him. He chased after it as he conquered the miles.

  A flash lit up the empty road and the surrounding trees, and rain began to fall. He’d forgotten his protective gear and his cell. A bonehead move, but after his call ended with Bob Harrison, he couldn’t think straight. Their contract with Harrison Global officially ended a week ago, and the company still hadn’t signed a renewal. Maybe…What the fuck did Bob Harrison mean with that answer? Bode-Wynn had watched over Harrison’s executives for five years. They’d even saved Bob from a kidnapping attempt in Brazil last year. Their personal history, all the clients he’d referred to Bode-Wynn. It didn’t make sense for Bob to consider other companies.

  The frustration he’d calmed during his bike ride rose to a low boil. She’d messed with his concentration. He wouldn’t have lost focus with Bob on the call and screwed up negotiations if he hadn’t run into Tabitha Drake. Bite Me? That was third on the list of things he’d do to her if they ever made use of that condom, which they wouldn’t. She’d start an argument about how to do it. Hell. She’d try to tell him how to handle his dick, and no one told him what to do with that or anything else in his life.

  From the look in her eyes at the barbecue, Tabitha viewed him as a tight-ass, but he scheduled in time for enjoyment. He just didn’t like chaos messing up the order of things. He knew how to keep his priorities straight while she obviously…

  Fuck! Why couldn’t he get her out of his head?

  Drew stood on the pedals and powered up the incline. His thighs burned. Quickening heart beats echoed in his ears. Pushing harder, he crested over the top and sailed down the other side. As he caught his breath, one fat drop of rain, then two, plopped on his helmet and rolled down his arm. He flexed his gloved fingers around the handles. Too far out to beat the storm.

  But that didn’t mean he had to give in. Days of grueling therapy had taught him where to direct his strength. He had more than his share of experience in dismantling obstacles threatening to stand in his way.

  He ducked his head and moved smoothly through the gear changes. A strong wind shook the bike, and he realigned it with practiced skill. Rain fell harder. Repeated claps of thunder rumbled into the frame. The vibration stopped, but the rumbling grew louder behind him. Hairs rose on his nape. That wasn’t Mother Nature stomping around in a bad mood.

  He cast an uneasy glance over his shoulder. A dark pickup truck barreled toward Drew, oversized wheels spitting up water and gravel. He steered to the right, and heat blasted over his skin. The Kestrel jerked over uneven ground. As he fought for control, the tires caught traction. He pitched over the handlebars and landed in a small ditch. Bark and gravel dug into his skin. He lay there, recovering the air that had whooshed out of his lungs on impact. Nothing felt broken. The side of his head sank and cold muck covered his cheek. He had to move. As he rolled in the mud to his hands and knees, pain ripped through his left leg. He breathed through what felt like piercing daggers, waiting as it dulled to a manageable throb.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  He blinked against the rain. As if he’d conjured her with his mind, Tab stood on the side of the road holding an umbrella. A golden-brown dress clung and fluttered around her thighs. He related to the look of shock on her face. Somewhere, God or the devil enjoyed the joke.

  She swiped auburn curls from her eyes. “Can you get up?”

  Sucking in a breath, he stood. His reconstructed knee held. He limped to the Kestrel, hoisted it on his shoulder, and picked up the bent front wheel. Five thousand dollars down the drain. Good thing the driver kept going. Jacked-up knee or not, he’d have kicked his ass for running him off the road.

  He climbed out.

  Tab stood next to a white sedan. “Well”—she raised her voice over thunder—“Are you going to stand there or are you going to get in?”

  Drew felt the blood drain from his face. The passenger seat loomed in front of him. Why couldn’t the rain rinsing off the mud wash away the panic worming its way through his mind? People assumed he always drove instead of letting someone else to show off his Viper and the other kick-ass rides he owned. On business trips, they accepted his explanation of a rental giving him more independence. Only his assistant and Devin knew what he faced riding in the passenger seat.

  Keep it together, Bode. She wasn’t Shana, and they wouldn’t be driving down an ice-covered road in Virginia. Making a conscious effort, he loosened his fingers from the wheel frame. “Pop the trunk.”

  He stowed the bike, shuddered out an exhale, and got in the car. Tab started the engine, and he clicked the seat belt over his pounding heart and took off his helmet and gloves. Out through the nose, in through the mouth, or the other way around? Fuck. He hadn’t needed to use breathing techniques in years.

  Dots of blood rimmed a rip in the side of his jersey, and his ribs stung. He squirmed and throbs waved down his leg. Pain. Yes. He’d used it as a diversion in the past. As he massaged the vertical scar running from lower thigh to calf, eye-watering discomfort stabbed into his knee.

  Tab glanced at him “Are you all right?”

  “Eyes on the road!”

  “Don’t yell at me
. I know you’re upset about picking grass out of your teeth, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me how to drive.”

  She looked at him again, and his chest squeezed. The sounds of wind and rain faded into white noise as he forced slow, measured breaths. Tab steered the car around a long curve. He leaned into it, dug his fingers into his thigh, and stomped on the floorboard.

  “Let me know when your brake starts working and I’ll stop using this one.” She huffed out a breath. “It kills me when people do that. I was handling bigger things than this on the ranch by the age of twelve.”

  And he could come up with twelve good reasons to take his chances in the rain.

  She sighed in frustration. “I hate to confess this…”

  Shit—now what?

  “I’ve been driving in circles for the past ten minutes trying to find my way out.”

  “Don’t you have a map on your phone?”

  “Yes, but I thought I knew where I was going.” She took a hand from the wheel and pointed at him. His heart rate climbed. “Before you get all high and mighty, you may want to consider you’d still be on the side of the road if I wasn’t lost.”

  “What’s the name of your hotel?”

  “I’m staying at your corporate guest apartment, but that’s not where I’m going.” She fidgeted in the seat as if it had suddenly become uncomfortable. “Vanessa couldn’t make it. I’m helping you with your party.”

  …

  Drew slammed the car door and met Tab’s defiant gaze over the roof. He didn’t give a damn if Wynn okayed his assistant finding a replacement. Someone should have called him about the change.

  Mitch’s red Jeep sat behind the catering van in the circular driveway. The security specialist would have to pull double duty and keep an eye on her.

  Tab opened her umbrella, and he followed her up the stairs to his house. Her dress molded to her hips as they moved in a gentle sway. He couldn’t afford another botched conversation with Bob because of a distraction. No matter what, he was sorting out Harrison Global’s contract tonight.

  “We need to talk.” His voice boomed in the entryway.

  The attention of the catering staff in the adjacent living room snapped their direction.

  “About what?” Her heels tapped rapidly on the tiles as he led her to the guest bathroom.

  He ushered her inside and slammed the door shut. “Why are you here?”

  She dropped her purse on the counter. “I told you. I agreed to do this as a favor to Vanessa.”

  “You don’t belong here. I’m entertaining important clients tonight. This isn’t the type of party where you can spout crazy opinions and smear ice cream on your breasts.”

  Tab’s cheeks flushed. “I understand perfectly. You aren’t the only one who scores clients with big bank accounts. I deserve a thank you for volunteering instead of insults and a lecture.” Anger emerged in her eyes as she poked his chest. “If you want things to run smoothly between us tonight, here’s some advice. Focus on your clients instead of my breasts so you don’t end up landing on your ass like you did before I found you.”

  He advanced, and she flattened her palm. His heart thumped harder, and blood surged below his waist. Tab looked down, and her plum-tinted lips formed a soft “O.” A vision of her mouth wrapped around his cock exploded in his mind. His erection grew larger. Her gaze met his. He waited for the smart-ass verbal jab, but desire darkened her eyes. To hell with it. He was tired of lusting after her and denying the obvious.

  He grabbed her by the waist and brought her flush against him. “That’s the problem. When you’re around, I can’t focus.” Her pulse ticked rapidly in her throat and lured him into brushing his lips over the spot. The same perfume that had taunted him in the lobby saturated his lungs. Need ignited. “You shouldn’t have volunteered.”

  Chapter Four

  Drew swept his lips from her neck to her cheek, and Tab’s heart pounded in anger and anticipation. His mouth found hers, coaxing, demanding. Releasing a gasp of fury and desire, she opened for the bold thrusts of his tongue. He cupped her ass and ground himself against her lower belly. She held on to his hips and rocked back. No more sniping. No more assumptions, just what his kiss and cock promised. Ecstasy.

  She tugged at his jersey and Drew whipped it over his head. Her butt hit the edge of the marble, and he lifted her onto the counter. He shoved up her skirt and dragged off her black bikinis. Cool air whispered over her skin. His hooded gaze followed his hands as he stroked up her inner thighs and brushed over her slit. She widened her legs around him.

  “Fuck, you’re already wet.” His lips grazed her earlobe, raising a shiver. “Tell me you have those damn condoms.”

  One hand holding on, she grabbed her purse and upended the contents into the sink. He parted her and slid one finger inside. Her hips jerked with the clenching of her sex. Quarters, gum, a tampon, she batted them aside. A cloud of lust blurred her vision. She clutched his arm and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. “Drew, I can’t if you—”

  He feathered his thumb over her clit, and delicious sensation rolled through her. “Do you want me to stop?”

  She’d kill him if he tried. “What do you think?”

  “I’ll make you a deal.” Open-mouthed kisses heated up her throat. “If you don’t stop looking for a condom, I won’t stop stroking your pussy. Is that too much for you?”

  Cocky bastard… She raised her hips into the next lazy stroke, and a moan she couldn’t hold back purred from her throat. Cocky, talented bastard. Reaching out, she fumbled past her phone and wallet. Finally landing a condom, she tore it open. Drew pushed down his shorts, snagged it from her shaking hands, and gloved his cock.

  No preambles or questions, he thrust in, his hard, thick length grazing over the needy places inside her. Nerve-endings fired as he went deep. He pulled back and she clutched his hips, desperate for him to move. He made her wait, then slammed back in. They both groaned. Quick hard pumps bounced her on the marble. She wrapped her legs high on his waist, holding on as her sex pulsed greedily for more. He changed the pace to a slow, torturous grind, and she dug in her stilettos. She spurred him, uncaring if she marked his back or about the bruising pressure of his fingers digging into her hips.

  He reached between them and strummed her clit. Tingling warmth unfurled from her toes and weaved through her belly and breasts. A hard spasm of pleasure lifted her hips, and a keening cry ripped from her throat. Drew grasped her by the nape and brought her down to his shoulder. The tang of salt saturated her mouth, and she bit into his warm skin, muffling sounds she no longer controlled. His thrusts grew more erratic, and she held on to him. His muscles bunched under her palms.

  Violent shudders moved through him with his release. He burrowed his face into her neck, and deep groans hummed over her skin. Aftershocks moved through them both as they held each other, their short, ragged breaths filling the silence.

  Her pounding heart slowed, and she unwrapped her legs from his waist. He held her steady as she eased farther back on the counter, then moved away to take care of the condom. His six-pack-plus carved into his abdomen with deep breaths.

  Footsteps passed by the door and they froze.

  Her cheeks flamed. She got off the counter, thighs aching in protest, and straightened her dress. Thankfully, Scotchgard and travel-friendly fabric had lived up to their claims. Inside, she felt like she’d experienced a heart attack in reverse.

  Drew pulled up his shorts. “Are you all right?” The husky rasp of his voice along with the remnants of desire in his eyes sparked up visions of round two, maybe three.

  “Yes.” Diverting her attention to safer territory, she picked her bikinis off the floor and placed them near her purse.

  He retrieved his shirt and winced. Mottled bruises and angry-red slashes marred the side of his ribcage.

  “You’re hurt.” She went to him and probed his side. Warmth seeped into her fingers, and she inhaled the faint scents of sex mixed in with hi
s cologne and her perfume. He flinched away. Ignoring him, she bent down to get a closer look. Old scars webbed through new injuries. “It doesn’t feel like you’ve broken anything. If it hurts when you breathe, you may have cracked a rib.”

  “Why doesn’t it surprise me you know so much about broken bones?”

  She rose. “My brother was a bull rider, so yeah, I know a lot about injuries. Is there a first-aid kit in here?”

  “No need. I’m good.”

  Good. Right. Of course he was. Her brother used to say the same when he kissed dirt after a bone-thrashing ride on the back of a thousand-pound bull. She looked at him and saw a flash of Corey, wounded, scarred, and holding in the hurt. Soft emotions spread through her chest. Without thinking, she touched the small abrasion on Drew’s cheek. “Let me help.”

  His gaze closed off. “I’m fine.” He dragged his shirt on and went to the door. “Use whatever you need to pull yourself together. Leave your purse in my office.” He reached for the doorknob and paused. “Tab, I—”

  “Don’t. We’re adults.” Tab gathered her belongings. She’d die if Drew said he was sorry for having sex with her. “There’s nothing to apologize about.”

  “I’m not sorry.” His gaze held hers in the mirror. “But it can’t happen again.”

  Heaviness settled in her chest. It hurt to admit it. “I agree.”

  Chapter Five

  What had she done? Tab stowed her purse in the cabinet and fussed with her dress. She hadn’t experienced an “oops, we shouldn’t have done that” moment with a guy since college. Luckily, they’d arrived at the same conclusion. Another angry sexcapade couldn’t happen. Like too much salt in a dish, their differences overwhelmed the goodness of hot sex. She’d take her lumps and lessons like a big girl and move on.

  As she patted her hair into place, guilty conscience, the fiendish bitch, stomped on her bravado. But you won’t forget.

  Great. Did this mean she’d have to work on not strangling him and manage the urge to jump his bones at the same time? She should have listened to Jasmine and backed out. Stifling a groan, she walked out of the office and ran into a human wall.