The Hotter You Burn

He winked over at her, his golden eyes sparkling.

She smiled at him, unable to help herself.

He reached for her, only to drop his hand before contact. Stiffening, he looked somewhere over her shoulder. “So... I found you a guy.”

Denial rose like a tidal wave. “So soon?”

“Yeah. His name’s Dorian. I’ll get you a laptop so you can look him up on Google. Chicks are doing that nowadays.”

“Great. Wonderful.”

“You should see the pictures people have posted of me. In fact—” He withdrew his phone. “We’ll look now.”

“No, thanks. Let’s keep this about Dorian,” she said, just to poke at him.

His eyes narrowed, but he stored the phone. “I’ve known him since I was fifteen. He’s a fireman, and according to the girl who lived next door to our foster family, totally hunkalicious. He’s smart, kind and honest to a fault, but he lives in the city. If that’s a deal breaker for you...”

“No,” she said. Beck wanted to play this game, so they would play.

“Take some time, think about it.” He threw down his fork, the metal clanging against the glass bowl. “We don’t have to talk about this now. I know it upsets you.”

Upsets her? “No, no,” she said. “Tell me more about him.”

Beck pushed his bowl aside, as if he’d lost his appetite, a reaction that thrilled her to her soul. He couldn’t stand the thought of her with another guy, could he?

He scratched his chest, saying, “Want to watch TV? There’s gotta be something good on.” He tromped back to the bedroom and threw himself on the bed.

“Damn it,” he said a few seconds later. “I’ve got pie on my shirt.”

“Go shirtless.” Please.

To torment him, she finished her dessert—and enjoyed another slice—before joining him in the bedroom. He’d gotten comfortable, kicking off his shoes, and yes, he’d removed his shirt. The sight of him arrested her. He was more than pure seduction and total temptation—he was a dream come true. His pecs were rock-solid, his stomach roped and lined with a goodie trail that made her mouth water.

How was she supposed to keep her hands to herself?

Better question: How was he?

Almost defiantly, she toed off her shoes and climbed in beside him. “Move over, cover hog.”

He obeyed without protest, even stretching out his arm in an invitation for her to cuddle close. An invitation she accepted, resting her head against his chest. His heart was racing, pounding like a war drum, pandering to her hope.

She would not make the first move. She wouldn’t! But she also wouldn’t make this easy on him. “I like the name Dorian.”

“Most girls do.” His finger jabbed at the remote, switching channels.

“It’s sexy.”

Another new channel. “It’s stupid. Door-e-ann is the name of a great-grandmother.”

“Or a famous male stripper I can ply with singles.”

Yet another new channel, this one a skin flick, filling the room with sounds of heavy breathing, rustling sheets and whining mattress springs, making her pulse jump and her insides go liquid.

“Have you seen this one?” he asked.

“No. Tell me about it.”

He set the remote aside, traced his fingers up and down her arm as she tried not to stare at the sea of naked flesh. “The plot is super complicated. You’ll have to watch closely.”

“I can see how insert tab A into slot B would confuse you,” she muttered. Dang him! Her pulse jumped faster. Did he want her to attack him?

Realization settled. He did. He 100 percent, no-doubt-about-it wanted her to attack him. If he could get her to make the first move, he would feel he had permission to make one right back. How devious.

I will outlast him. She swiped the remote and switched off the TV. “Let’s play a game.”

“Good idea.” He toyed with the ends of her hair. “I know how much you like to imagine yourself as other people. The stripper, for instance.”

“You can stop right there. I am not stripping for you.”

“As if I don’t know that. I’m suggesting a role-play. You’re a stripper who’s just fallen off the pole. I’m a doctor, and I need to give you a very thorough exam to ensure you’re able to return to work tomorrow.”

Her whoremones cheered. But self-preservation won out. Most girls would be offended by his proposal.

She smacked him in the chest, considered performing a titty-twister, but resisted. “I’ll save that game for my new boyfriend, thanks.”

His lips pursed. “Fine. Let’s play the quiet game.”

“I lose. Let’s talk. Daniel Porter is back from his military tour, and he’s superhot.” Both statements were true; she simply left out the part about Jessie Kay going on a date with him. “He lives in Strawberry Valley. Maybe I should call him instead of meeting your friend Dorian.”

Beck clamped the back of her neck in a hard clasp before releasing her. “I’ve seen Daniel around town, and I’m pretty sure I heard a rumor he stole a doughnut from Strawberry Valley Community Church.”

“Wouldn’t that make him perfect for me, considering I’m a reformed pie thief? Anyway, the church gives doughnuts away for free.”

“I still don’t trust him. I’ll look into him, but until then, I don’t want you anywhere near him.”