Bedded for His Pleasure. Heidi Rice

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Bedded for His Pleasure - Heidi Rice


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gave her a quizzical look as he opened the saddlebags on the back of the Harley. ‘What’s the problem?’

      ‘It’s Bradley Dexter. I don’t want him to spot me,’ Jessie whispered as she ducked behind Monroe.

      Bradley Dexter III was the son of Linc and Ali’s nearest neighbour. Pampered and idle, he thought his red sports car was an extension of his personality and had turned out to be as persistent as a woodworm after Jessie had met him on the beach a few weeks before. She might be hard up, but she was not that hard up.

      Jessie realised she was too late to avoid another annoying encounter, though, when the well-muscled young man in the surfer’s standard uniform of board shorts and vest-top walked up to them. ‘Hiya, Jessie. How’ya doing?’

      Monroe heard the sigh from behind him before Jessie appeared at his side.

      ‘Hello, Bradley.’

      ‘We’ve got a beach party going tonight at the Sunspot. You wanna come along?’ The guy’s eyes dipped down Jessie’s frame in a way Monroe didn’t like one bit. ‘You could wear that bitching little bikini I saw you in last week.’

      Monroe thought he could hear Jessie’s teeth grinding together. ‘That’s nice of you, Bradley, but I think I’m busy.’ She touched Monroe’s arm. ‘This is Monroe, by the way. Monroe Latimer—he’s Linc’s brother.’

      Bradley gave Monroe an absent glance. ‘Sure, nice to meet you, dude. I guess you could come, too. But I get first dibs on the babe here.’ He winked at Jessie, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. Seeing Jessie blush and stiffen, Monroe felt his anger rise.

      He put a firm hand on Jessie’s hip and pulled her to his side. Ignoring her quick intake of breath, he gave Bradley a sharp stare.

      ‘I don’t think so, dude.’ He had the surfer’s attention now. ‘I don’t share.’

      Bradley stepped back, his Adam’s apple bobbing. ‘Sure, man, no problem.’ He gave Jessie a nervous wave, his gaze fixed on Monroe. ‘See ya ’round, Jess,’he said and scurried off.

      ‘What was that about?’ Jessie shrugged off Monroe’s arm.

      ‘I was getting rid of Bradley the wolf for you.’

      ‘I don’t need your protection, thank you.’

      Miserably embarrassed, Jessie stepped past Monroe but was pulled up short when he put his hands on her hips, tugged her into his arms. ‘He’s looking back,’ he whispered in her ear as he nuzzled her neck. Shock waves shot through her whole system. ‘Let’s show him we mean business.’

      ‘What?’

      Jessie had no chance to react. No chance to register his intent. Strong fingers combed through her hair, angled her head slightly and then his lips were on hers. The move was so smooth, so fluid, Jessie could only gasp before his mouth covered hers.

      The contact was electric. His mouth was firm and commanding on hers, his tongue exploring and then retreating in a clever rhythm that robbed her of thought. He kept one hand on her head, anchoring her to him, while the other swept down, moulding her curves before settling firmly on her bottom and pulling her even closer.

      The rough feel of his jeans against her legs, the strong, solid feel of his chest against her breasts were so unyielding she felt as if she were being smothered. Her response though was unstoppable. Her mouth opened wider as her tongue tangled with his. He lifted his head for a moment and her breath gushed out, but then his lips were back on hers again. His teeth bit into her bottom lip. She began to pant, feeling dazed, delirious.

      Then, suddenly, it was over.

      ‘There.’ His voice sounded dim because of the blood pounding in her ears. ‘That ought to convince him.’

      Jessie blinked up at him, her face flooding with heat as she registered the words through the fog of arousal. It was as if she’d been doused with ice water. She shoved him, her arms still shaking from need. ‘You bastard.’

      He held onto her arm. ‘What’s wrong, Red?’

      She was so angry she could have spat at him. He was smiling at her, as if it had all been a game. The terrible tug of need and desire still throbbing in her belly only made her feel more humiliated. ‘You had no right…’ Her voice shook. ‘You had no right to do that.’

      Monroe could see the sheen of moisture in her eyes and hated himself for it. He wanted to taste her again. God, he wanted to strip her naked and bury himself inside her. Her response to the simple kiss had been electrifying. He was hard as a rock and throbbing painfully in his jeans. It was a major struggle to keep the carefree smile on his face. ‘I was just trying to help you out with Bradley. What’s the big deal?’

      It was a lie. He’d wanted to kiss her ever since he’d laid eyes on her. That he’d been unable to resist her wasn’t something he wanted to admit, though, even to himself.

      ‘I didn’t ask for your help.’ Jessie’s words came out on a broken sob. Desperate not to let him see her break, she struggled out of his grasp.

      ‘No harm done. It was just a little kiss.’

      He made it sound like nothing at all. It would only make her seem like an idiot if she let him see how much more it had meant to her. Biting her lip to keep the tears back, Jessie gripped the strap of her bag with unsteady fingers. She had to get away from him.

      He tucked a finger under her chin, his eyes clouded with concern. ‘Hey, I’m sorry.’

      Was that pity in his eyes? Jessie pushed his hand away, forced her eyes to go flat and remote. ‘It’s okay, Monroe.’ She’d made enough of a spectacle of herself already. ‘Like you said, it was nothing.’ She whirled away from him.

      As Jessie walked towards the public restrooms she kept her head high, her back ramrod straight, but couldn’t stop the silent tears of humiliation rolling down her cheeks.

      The journey back to the house was agony for both of them.

      As Jessie clung onto the back of the bike, refusing to hold onto Monroe, she felt none of the thrill from the earlier journey into town.

      All she could think about was the kiss they’d shared. It had been like no other kiss she’d ever had before. She’d made love before with less excitement.

      Why had she responded to him like that?

      It was mortifying and, what was worse, it had meant less than nothing to him. ‘What’s the big deal?’ —that was what he’d said. He must have kissed loads of women before her and she hadn’t measured up very well. He hadn’t even insisted that she hold onto him on the ride back as he’d done on the way there. She felt angry with him and humiliated, but worse, much worse, was the feeling of rejection that she couldn’t seem to shake no matter how hard she tried. Why should she care what a womanising ex-con thought of her? But the problem was she did care.

      Monroe wanted to kick himself for his stupidity. Why the hell had he kissed her? Now he knew what she tasted like, what she felt like in his arms, he was going to have a hell of a time keeping his hands off her.

      He had to keep his hands off her.

      He slept with women for mutual pleasure, for kicks, but it could never mean anything deeper than that. He never got involved with anyone who might mean more to him. That was the way he lived; that was the way he had to live. Free and easy. No commitments, no ties.

      The way she’d looked at him after the kiss, the shattered horror in her eyes had touched a place inside him he’d never even admitted existed. The woman was bad news all round. He was going to have to keep well clear of her. But how the hell was he going to do that, when he wanted her so damn much?

      CHAPTER FIVE

      ‘JESS?’

      ‘Over here, Al.’ Jessie poked her head round the


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