THREE

“Okay, I’m totally doing this wrong.”

“Ya think?”

With her hip cocked and her breasts straining the cotton, he had to fight to concentrate. Anger was never cool with his Bella—fiery and off the charts, that was her personality and what drew him to her. Because of that anger, he usually knew where he stood with her. But the lazy, “’yeah,’” just sliced at him.

Was he the moron with a crush? Did she even realize how much he wanted her all the time? That he’d come here with only her in mind. Not even the blind lust, just needing to see her. That smile, the eyes and her smell. She was comfort even in her frenetic personality.

He put his pride on the line, one more time—All in. “I missed you, dammit. I don’t have to like it either.”

“What? I like missing you? Christ, I watched Youtube to see you!” She said and immediately wanted to snatch it back. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“What?” His eyebrows snapped down. “What the hell does youtube have to do with anything?”

“Never mind.” She strode off into the kitchen. Hell if she was going to explain that one to him. She was a grown woman with a really great career—a blooming career, goddammit. And she’d been searching out any Australian video she could find the night of the show. The good thing about Australia was the time difference. For God’s sake she’d even watched the interviews.

Pathetic.

High School-esque.

Ugh, she was just queasy at the thought.

“Oh hell no,” he muttered and chased after her. He grabbed her upper arm. “What did you mean?”

“Stop man handling me!” She jerked her arm back. Did he have to look at her like that? All expectant and intense. She didn’t know what she was feeling, how was she supposed to explain it to him?

“Stop avoiding the question!”

Temper arced between them. She could feel it as sure as the ice ticking against her house. “Just forget it, I don’t want to fight.”

He drilled his hands into his hair, but didn’t drop his gaze. He met her slightly panicked eyes. Frustration pounded on top of the out of body feeling of jet lag. “What’s so hard about this, Isabella? I missed you, I was hoping you missed me. End of story.”

Christ, her full name? It tweaked the anger to the forefront. Was he touched? For the love of Mike, she just opened herself up to him on a damn banister. “Of course I did!” She tugged the strap of her top back up and twirled toward the kitchen. “You’re such an asshole.”

He frowned after her, but the sexy sway of her hips distracted him. Izzy had a helluva strut when she had a head full of steam. She turned around at the threshold and caught him looking. Shit. His eyes flashed up to hers.

“We’re having a fight and you’re staring at my ass? Are you serious?”

He couldn’t stop the grin. “Dammit, Iz, it just wiggles so perfectly.”

Her mouth dropped open. He did not just say that. “Oh, my God! You think you’re charming, but you’re not.” She slammed cabinets, looking for anything to diffuse her anger. There had to be chocolate somewhere. “We’re having a fight and you’re ready to grope my ass.”

He leaned against the doorjamb, trying really hard to not notice how said ass curved as she squatted down to the lower cabinets. “I’m always ready to grope your ass.”

“You are not endearing yourself to me,” she said over her shoulder. “And don’t you flash those perfect teeth at me, it’s not funny.”

He stepped into the kitchen and crouched down beside her. It wasn’t like her to fly off the handle for no reason. Yes, she was passionate and could argue him cross eyed sometimes, but she wasn’t a drama queen. Unwrapping her hand from the fifth cabinet she’d slammed, he turned her to face him. “Izzy, what are you looking for?”

“I don’t know!” The words exploded out of her. She couldn’t even tell him what was in any of the cupboards she’d opened. Chocolate wasn’t going to save her from this conversation. It wasn’t going to save her from the man who had more determination than sense. Didn’t he know not to ask intense questions right now? He was home on a little break. They were just supposed to get naked and enjoy each other, dammit.

“You don’t know what you’re looking for or you don’t know what you want?” He could feel the nerves and the anger flowing off of her.

“I don’t know what I want,” she whispered. The floor took on a glassy sheen and she stared right at him. “This wasn’t supposed to be hard.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Flicking his thumb under a pooling tear, he brushed it away. He stood, twining their fingers together before he dragged her up and against him. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I just want you. That’s the only thing I’ve been able to figure out.”

She pressed her nose into his neck, breathing in his Ivory soap scent. “I don’t like being dependent on someone,” she whispered.

He stepped back, cupping her face in his hand. “Who said anything about being dependent on me? I just want you—that’s it.” He shook her a little, staring into her dark eyes until she really saw him, really got what he meant. “I want you in my life. I think we’re good together—definitely good enough to figure out where to go from here.”

“You’re home for what? A little over a week before you’re back on the road?” She pressed her cheek into his hand. “You’re timing sucks.”

“Come on the road with me.” The words came out before he could censor them or explain. Shit. Way to go, fuckhead.

“What?” She jerked back and turned away from him, staring into her sink. She couldn’t have heard him right. Following him around? No, that wasn’t in her plans.

“Izzy, just think about it.” Her shoulders bunched up against her neck and his words came out in a rush. “I know it’s fast and I probably sound crazy, but I don’t want to waste any more time.” It was like she curled into herself. All or nothing, asshole. “I want to be with you, I want to know if this is just a fling or if it’s going to be more.”

“Why the hell are you pushing?” She curled her fingers around the edge of the sink, where tile met basin. Not that she should be surprised. He’d pushed at her from the first day they’d met.

He stood behind her, wedging his hands in until she eased, then kneaded his thumbs into the base of her neck. “I don’t want to ruin this.” He pushed aside all the bright blonde curls that had a mind of their own and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “I just want more.”

How the hell was she supposed to fight that? She melted back against him until his arms came down and around her. The solid wall of muscle and man, the steady beat of his heart; they all went a long way in evening her out. “You always want more.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “One of my best and worst traits, babe.”

She twisted in his arms, burying her nose into the crinkly hair at the center of his chest. Another deep breath of him and she finally eased. “I’ve never let myself get so wrapped up in a man, Jon.” She smoothed her fingers over his back, following the dips and ridges of muscle. “I have my work and my family and the occasional man that I allow into my life for a little fun.” She looked up at him. “That’s not how it is with us.” She brushed her thumb over the dip in his stubbly chin. “It’s so much more. Almost too much more.”

“Too much aren’t even words we can use for us. It’s good.” He lowered his lips to hers, sunk into her softness until the anger drained away between them. “More than good, Izzy.” Coaxing her closer, he let himself drift in her taste until cinnamon and vanilla replaced the nerves swarming in his gut. “Come away with me.”

She gripped his shoulders, staring into the limitless blue of his eyes. So sure, so clear and sure—unlike hers. “I—“

“Just to my Hampton house.”

“It’s January!” she blurted out.

“The ocean doesn’t care what time of year it is. I need the ocean and you.” He held on tight when he felt her slipping away from him. “Bring your laptop, you can work out there. I promise—you’ll probably work better than ever before. There’s something about the air there.” He could see her wavering. Confusion and indecision warred in her eyes and in the tense posture. He wanted her lose and soft again. Needed it more than he’d ever own up to.

She swallowed hard. Taking a leap with a man like him—she must be out of her ever lovin’ mind. She was better off balancing on the edge of the Cliffs of Mohr. “Okay, Slick. You’re on.”

He lifted her, swung her around with a whoop. “Okay, let me go grab my shit.”

She blinked at him, clutching his shoulders. “Now?”

He put her down with a smacking kiss. “Yes, now.”

“You do realize we’re having an ice storm, right?”

He frowned, moving back toward the window. “Huh—I guess I forgot about that. I wasn’t paying attention.”

She grabbed his hand and drew him back to the stairs, climbing two before she turned back to him. It was time to put them back on even footing. No more talk of future plans, of tours, of books. Just them, just the elements…inside and outside. “Let’s go listen to the ice hitting the house—together.”

“Yeah?” He grinned up at her.

His eyes sparkled with mischief. She’d push aside the idea of forever for a little while. Tomorrow was soon enough to deal with that. “Too late to do anything else.”

“I already slept twelve hours.”

“Who said we were sleeping?”

TWO

Bella woke with an arm firmly pinning her to the mattress. Good God, she didn’t even remember making it to her bed.

The tickle of breath with a side of purr at her neck told her Jon was utterly and completely out. Was he actually snoring? She gently wiggled free of him until she could look down at him. She pushed his hair back from his eyes. It had grown some while he’d been over in Australia. The cinnamon strands were taking on that shaggy, fluffy life of its own that meant he was probably going to cut it again. “Pity,” she said softly and stood.

She was slightly ashamed to admit it, but she’d gone hunting and caught a few internet clips of him. From the shake-a shake-a delights of his truly spectacular ass, to the cocky smile, she’d watched him own the crowd. But that wasn’t the man here in her house. It was the man without the gloss that was in her bed, and had taken her with such desperation. Dark rings carved out a few new lines on his face. Even the light tan he’d managed to get while he was over there couldn’t cover the bone deep tired.

She leaned down, brushed a kiss over his brow. An ache bloomed across her chest and up into her throat. She was learning that he was one of those people that just didn’t stop until his body stopped for him. They were so much alike, in totally different ways.

And he came to her first. The fact that he’d searched her out even before his bed, when the exhaustion was so obvious…well, the word stunned came to mind. She pulled her down comforter higher on his shoulder. Add in the fiercely protective instincts he brought out in her and it was a weird day indeed.

She grabbed a quick shower and rummaged through her kitchen for some food. Nothing like a little mid-morning sex to revitalize a girl. Within a half hour she was back on her overstuffed chair in her bedroom, clicking away at her keyboard. Evidently her McKenzie muse liked the sex too—and perhaps the company. Words flowed easily as she lost herself in the world of Alex and McKenzie’s tumultuous relationship.

And as Jon slept the day away, she managed to plow her way through nearly four chapters. It was an oddly cozy thing, working as her man...My man?

Well crap, she’d never actually labeled him in her head, but it certainly seemed like it was pretty much what he was—her man. Her boyfriend. They hadn’t really discussed exclusivity, but the way he’d greeted her at the door certainly spoke of a man that was jonesing pretty hard for his woman.

Nope, let’s not go there.

She forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Oddly, she worked better with him in the room than she had for the last two full days without him. As night fell, the wind kicked up until icy rain pelted against her house. She scrunched down in her chair, laptop between her knees as she researched a new locale for her series. The endless rain made her think of Ireland with her endless green. It might be fun to make the ever urban McKenzie soften toward Alex.

As she plotted Kenzie’s romantic torture, Jon slept. Even when the thunder rolled in and her house shook—he stayed down. She’d thought about waking him to eat, but decided sleep was better for him in the end. He rarely had more than four hours a night under his belt and with the battery of interviews he’d done while he was over there, he’d probably tapped himself out.

Finally the stranglehold of Ireland and its rich history eased enough that she could skim back through the pages she’d finished. They were good—better than she’d written in a while, actually. “Looks like a little Jonny was just what I needed,” she said to the room and closed her laptop. With one last look at her sleeping stud, she shut off the lights and went downstairs to keep herself busy.

~

Jon woke to a dark room that smelled of…He grinned into the pillow. Cinnamon. No stupid, lonely hotel room for him tonight. He slid out of her bed, stretching slowly as his body adjusted to an upright position. A singular glow from her Bose dock told him that he’d been twelve hours down.

Damn, he was a dumb schmuck. Like she wanted him to just come over and take over her bed. He wandered into her bathroom and found his backup toothbrush next to hers, in the cup holder next to the faucet. He grinned, oddly touched that he’d scored a spot in her permanent morning rituals.

After he brushed the fuzz out of his mouth, he tugged back on his battered jeans, leaving his t-shirt off. Her house was pleasantly warm and with a willing female in his arms, he’d be just fine. It had only been a month since he’d seen her, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. Talking on the phone, the suggestive emails that she came up with, hell even an overseas flight had been mere foreplay. All of it little pockets of time he had to live through to get to her.

He padded down the stairs, grinning as he saw her sprawled across her couch with her arm outstretched, flicking through channels. Her hair was loosely tied in a knot at the top of her head. Pajama bottoms hugged her generous bottom and a stretched out tank left the rest of her in a delicious state of relaxation. Just what he needed.

He flicked his thumb down the arch of her foot and laughed when she jumped. “Hey,” he said and crawled over the arm of the couch.

She instantly rolled to cup him between her thighs. She laughed as their legs tangled and he settled himself against the heat he’d be exploring later. He coaxed her lips apart, smiling and moaning his way through a very thorough, very lazy kiss. “Sorry I slept the day away, babe.”

She nipped at his jaw as he settled his forearms on either side of her. “You obviously needed it, Jon.”

He groaned again as she cradled him, and hissed when she undulated her hips against him until he was hard. “You’re evil,” he said between kisses that held heat, but no flashpoint fire. He knew what she wanted. Hell, it was what he wanted too. Content to have a little lazy sex in the flickering light of her TV, he lowered himself until he was eye level with her truly gorgeous breasts. The tips gently pushed at the powder blue tank, keeping her from him. The straps were loose enough to simply nose them down a freckled shoulder to find the upturned tips.

She hissed as he sucked her deep, rolling his tongue around her nipple until she arched against him. Still enjoying the easy play, he slid a hand along her belly and into the cotton bottoms. He grinned against her nipple as he realized panties were still banished from her bedroom ensemble.

Finding her quickly warming to his touch, he slid two fingers inside of her, watching as her eyes widened, darkened and the pink tip of her tongue swiped over her lips. He pressed his thumb against her clit and rubbed. Her chin lifted as pleasure seeped out of every pore. God, he could practically taste it.

She pushed at the pants, impatient to get him against her. Instead, he held her hands away with his other hand, cuffing them above her head along the cushioned arm of the chair. Her eyes snapped to his, the flashpoint right there waiting to be fanned.

“You need a proper hello,” he said against her neck. When her fingers curled around his wrist, he drew his other hand away. Her body sucked at his middle and forefinger, begging him to dip back inside. With each precious inch, he yearned for the same pressure around his cock. The way she surrounded him, welcomed him. There was nothing sweeter.

She deserved the slow and generous after the way he’d treated her earlier. Sometimes, when it came to Isabella, his intensions got lost in the overwhelming need for her. Her breath hitched and she strained against him, rolling her hips to increase the stroke.

“Shhhh,” he said in a whisper and slowed the thrust even more. She coated his hand as each pass included a flick of his thumb until she was swollen and ready for him. Just enough to keep her right there, but not let her go over.

Nosing the other half of her shirt down, he feasted on her skin, giving the other nipple just as much care and attention until she was nearly bucking him off the couch. “Had enough?” he asked against her neck.

Her response was less than articulate, but one thing came through loud and clear. “Now! Inside me, now!”

Pushing aside her pants he freed himself and drove inside of her. Instantly her legs lifted and locked around him, holding him tightly inside of her for just a moment before their achingly familiar rhythm found the release they both sought.

Her voice was hoarse, her breath hot against his neck as she shouted out his name. When her fingers locked around his, he looked down at her sightless eyes. Was there anything more beautiful than a woman completely lost in the moment? And when she quaked against him, he finally let himself go.

He leaned back, when his brains stopped rattling around. God, she drained him in the best way. “I could get used to this.”

“Welcome home.” She nibbled her way across his clavical.

He tried to move off of her, but she locked her ankles at lower back. She nuzzled him, the quick rasp of teeth at his Adam’s apple had him laughing. “I’m too heavy.”

“Nuh-uh, just right.”

He made himself more comfortable, the warm clasp of her body was enough to keep him right where he was. He tugged at her hair tie until the gold curls sprung free. A kinky curl wound itself around his finger—so coarse and yet so silky, kind of like the woman herself. “I missed you, Iz.”

“Yeah?” She smiled up at him. He still had one of her hands clasped in his free one. She wiggled until she could lace their fingers together and played with the tail of his watch band with her other. She missed him like crazy as well. It was humbling to know just how much.

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Had he read her wrong? “Is that all?”

“What?” She blinked, frowning as she came back into the conversation. “Is what all?”

He rolled back on the balls of his feet and tucked himself back into his jeans with a wince. He sat in the corner of the couch, dragging her up to a seated position. Her hair fell forward, wild and untamable. She pushed at a hank that fell in front of her eyes. The amber of her eyes deepened even as she tried to look away from him. The tanktop still dripped off her shoulder, her creamy skin and raspberry tip of her breast distracted him enough to ease it back up.

She hiked up her pajama bottoms and crossed her arms over her chest. Why had he covered her up? The sweet tone of the gentle loving went cold. She stood. “You must be starving.”

He grabbed her arm before she could walk away. “Food can wait.” He stood up, cupping her cheek. “What just happened?”

“We had sex. It was awesome.” She tried to turn away and he turned her back.

“Dammit, Bella.”

She stepped back. “Don’t dammit, Bella me, you’re the one that just covered me up.” What, now that he was done with her, he wanted her all buttoned up?

Exasperated, he blew his bangs out of his eyes. “I wasn’t covering you up because I don’t want to look at you.”

She crossed her arms again. “Coulda fooled me.”

Giving up, he fisted his fingers into his hair. All he could think about was touching her. Day, night, afternoon, hell—on stage there were things that made him think of her. And the stage was his ultimate getaway. He could figure out nearly everything in his life in one hundred forty minutes of a show. Not since she’d been in his life. “God, you make me crazy.”

“Yeah, well—feeling’s mutual, buddy.”