Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,15

his brain issued the directive to his dick to stay silent and sleeping, the soldier didn't feel up to taking orders from anyone this morning. He was too busy trying to repeat the activities of last night.

Eli bit back a groan as he recalled the way Jessica had moved on the dance floor. The taste of her breasts as he'd slid a finger into her moist depths, the way she'd come around his fingers, begging him to fuck her already. They way he'd taken her on her front doorstep. Shit. He'd totally lost control of that situation. From the moment he'd locked gazes with her last night, he'd been using the wrong head to think with. His cock jerked in umbrage.

And God help him, his brain's response was to run the memory reel of what else they'd done after they’d finally made it to her bedroom. How he'd tossed her on that high four-poster bed of hers and slipped into her from behind while he'd tugged on her hair. Fuck. That memory did a number on him, and his cock reached the painful hardness point. She was blonde. She’d lost the wig in the hair tugging.

She'd been so hot and sweet at the same time.

Hot and sweet or not, he had to get the fuck out of here. Hanging out and fucking her again was not part of the program. Besides, in the harsh light of day, she was likely to remember that he wasn’t her type. Whatever the hell that meant.

She hadn't seen the animal inside. Sure, deep down she must have known, otherwise she wouldn't have taken him home last night, but last night, his reins of control had slipped. Today, after some solid rest, they'd be back in place, and he would not be her type.

Eli wasn’t sure why, but that stung.

Who was he kidding? She was clearly into the bad-boy type. If the multiple ear piercings hadn't clued him in at the club, then the nipple piercing should have. And even if by some miracle he'd missed the parting gift of that piece of hardware, there'd been the intricate Sanskrit tattoo along her spine. And the one on her inner thigh, and the one above her hip bone as well as the swallow on her shoulder. This woman was trouble, and if by chance she wasn't, she was definitely looking for it, and he did not have time for this.

He'd made Sam a promise to get him representation, then maybe, just maybe, Eli could back off for a little while and focus on something other than keeping his brother out of trouble.

Who was he kidding? That might never happen.

He glanced around for his clothes and spied them in littered heaps all over the floor. A sock and boxers there. Another sock and shirt there. Pants in some corner with the shoes. Hell, when he'd had her in the doorway, he hadn’t even undressed, he'd been so desperate to sink into her. Idiot. He inhaled deeply then attempted to slide his arm out from under her. Pain sliced though his chest as he thought about walking away, and he immediately locked the feelings away. He wasn’t a four-year-old about to lose his favorite toy. Though it sort of felt that way.

Eli was careful not to wake Jessica as he dragged on the remnants of his ravaged clothing. She’d ripped his shirt in an effort to get it off him. The memory made him smile.

Jessica snored indelicately and rolled over. The sheet that had covered her slipped, exposing the tips of her lush breasts. All he could focus on were her breasts and their dark pink areolas. And how they tasted. God, how they tasted.

Taking a calculated risk, he bent and kissed her forehead, then whispered, “I’m glad you told me your name.”

It took him thirty minutes to make it to Sam’s studio in Hollywood where his twin greeted him with his usual panache. “Eli, you look like hell.”

Eli met Sam’s gaze then brushed past him to stalk into the studio. Scratch that, he more like lumbered. He wasn’t sure why he felt like shit. He didn't even have that much to drink last night. Duh, maybe cause you were up half the night screwing your brains out. “Thanks. I know I can always count on you to make me feel better.”

Sam shrugged before picking up a paint brush and heading back to his hanging canvas. “Just saying. Rough night?”

The last thing Eli needed was Sam thinking he