Pushing His Luck - Rhyannon Byrd Page 0,1
doing okay. After the Paul disaster, Karin had broken down in tears and confessed her humiliation to both Sophie and Natalie, who were long-time best friends, and they’d both been as confused as they were incensed. Even though Paul’s reputation as a man who enjoyed an active, casual sex life was well-known among his friends and family, neither of them could believe how he’d treated her. Unfortunately, it was all true.
The facts of the matter were simple, if not excruciating. After months of flirting with her, two weeks ago Paul had finally made his move. As if he was a man on a mission, he’d headed straight toward her when he’d arrived at the bonfire, and had stayed by her side the entire night, every second of the evening like a freaking dream. His deep, husky voice had given her chills as they’d talked and laughed, the conversation so easy it was unreal. And then there’d been the smoldering heat in his beautiful blue eyes, only a shade darker than his brother’s, the way he’d looked at her making her heart pound with excitement and disbelief.
And when everyone had finally called it a night, he’d held her freaking hand as he’d walked her up to her condo, his thumb rubbing seductively against her palm. He hadn’t asked to come inside when they reached her front door, no doubt picking up on her nervous hesitation. But it hadn’t stopped him from pressing her against the door and kissing the hell out of her.
God, the man kissed like…like it was his goddamn job. The thing he’d been born for. Forget fighting crime and putting away the scum of the earth. Paul Cartwright should be set up with a professional kissing booth, doing his part to make sexual fantasies come to life. His lips had been deliciously warm and soft and his tongue… Wow, even though she now thought he was a jerk, she still got a little lightheaded just thinking about the way his sleek tongue had rubbed against hers, the suggestive strokes making it impossible not to imagine how it would feel to have that clever tongue licking between her legs.
When he’d finally broken the kiss with a ragged breath—one strong hand threaded through her hair, the other one placed possessively on her hip—he’d looked her right in the eye and asked if she would have dinner with him the following Friday night.
She’d said yes.
He’d said he had her number, and that he would call her to set up the details, but to plan on him picking her up at seven.
Then he’d lifted the hand on her hip and rubbed the callused pad of his thumb over the sensitive curve of her lower lip, the look in his eyes molten and hungry as he lowered his head and kissed her again. The kiss had sent dizzying waves of raw, dark pleasure pulsing through her body, until he’d suddenly pulled back and gruffly told her to go inside before he forgot how to act like a gentleman. And then…well, she hadn’t heard from him again. She’d even caved and texted him so he’d be sure to have her correct number, in case it had somehow gotten messed up in his phone—as if that kind of thing actually happened. But despite her app saying that he’d read her message, he never called. Never texted back. And she felt like the biggest freaking tool on the planet.
“You want a drink?” Sophie asked, jarring Karin from her heated, but humiliating thoughts. “Chris stocked the cooler with beer, white wine and your favorite pink G&Ts.”
“I’d love a pink gin,” she said, plastering a huge fake smile on her face as she wrapped the long gray cardigan tighter around her body, the wind seeping right through the denim of her cut-off jeans.
“Coming right up, buttercup.”
As Karin watched Sophie make her way over to the cooler, she was struck again by how lucky she was to have Sophie and Natalie in her life now. She’d met Ben while she was still a college student, and after she’d graduated, she’d lost all contact with her school friends—the ones he was always jealous of her spending time with—which had made her marriage unbearably lonely. So it was awesome the way that Sophie and Natalie had taken her in. She was even part of their group texts, which was how she’d known Paul would be at the bonfire two weeks ago, since he was on one of the group chats as