Resisting the Bad Boy (NICE GIRL TO LOVE) Page 5

  “I shouldn’t want you either,” she whispered, “but I do.”

  His arms locked around her, instinctively staking a claim on her. Mine.

  For now.

  The two words were his only anchor keeping him in the reality he maintained for himself. He had to be brutally honest with her, with them both. “I meant what I said earlier, Abby. I’m never going to break my one-month rule.” Feeling like the lowest piece of scum, he hammered that last nail in, “Not for anyone. Not even you.”

  She was silent for a long while, and Connor started preparing himself for the rejection to come.

  “I know our fifteen minutes of friendship are up but can I ask you something as a friend? Will you answer me as one?”

  He tensed. “I’ll try.”

  She chuckled. “Again with the copout.” Raising her warm doe eyes up to his, she asked quietly, “If you weren’t trying to get in my pants, if you were just my friend and I asked you what one thing I could do to stop being ‘a nice girl’ for just a little while, what advice would you give me?”

  That was easy. “I’d tell you to try something new. Something that excites you. Something that’ll take you from zero to sixty just as fast as it could take you back to zero whenever you were ready to return.”

  “Something wild and fast...” She loosened her death grip on his shoulders, slid her hands down his back slowly. “That’s good advice.”

  He saw her gaze travel down to his lips and it took everything he had not to kiss her right then and there.

  “Are you volunteering, Connor? To be that something wild and fast for me to try?”

  “No,” he replied raggedly, “I’m insisting. Requiring.” He dropped his forehead against hers. “Asking.”

  Her eyelids dipped down, veiling her reaction from him.

  And so he waited.

  “I can’t do a whole month with you.”

  He blinked in surprise. That, he hadn’t been expecting. “Why not?!”

  “It’s too long.”

  Well, he did ask.

  A touch indignant, he argued, “You said you don’t do one night stands. Now you’re saying a month is too long?” He knew he was getting overly worked up but he couldn’t help it, she was being irrational. His brain started firing on all pistons, every combat cell in his body taking a front seat like they always did when he was about to do battle in the courtroom. “Or is it just one month with me that’s too long?”

  She flinched.

  He felt thoroughly insulted.

  “It’s not how you’re making it. Being with you would be like…ice cream. The most decadent ice cream I could ever imagine. I’d be hooked after the first bite. And if I didn’t discipline myself, I’d...overindulge.”

  “Until it made you sick?” He wasn’t really good with metaphors.

  A smiled peeked through. “No, until it was all I’d want to eat, all day, every day.”

  What the hell was wrong with that?

  Her smile broadened. “There’s everything wrong with that,” she continued, somehow reading his mind. “One month will take me right up to the third week of teaching, which is generally when my life starts getting busy. That means this month is my only time to really focus on getting a huge chunk of my dissertation written.”

  “And if you overindulge on the ice cream…”

  “I’d be in a sugar coma, incapable of doing or thinking of anything else. But you.”

  Call him a bastard but hearing that felt good. “Fine, I can respect that. How about this? What if I promise to leave you alone all day, every day throughout the week, and only send you into mini ice cream comas at night…as a build-up to one massive, no holds barred weekend to overindulge until we’re both too weak to move? Would that work for you?”

  Hot, slick desire exploded in her expression.

  His fingers instantly flexed against her hips in response.

  “Stand down, counselor. You made your point.”

  If she agreed to this arrangement, Connor fully intended to have her bring this legal speak into the bedroom—coming from Abby’s lips it was the equivalent of dirty talk.

  “How about we reach a compromise?” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Two weeks.”

  Two weeks? She was negotiating? He didn’t like it. Not one bit. “Half? You’re only willing to give me half?” Geez, he was doing a remarkable impression of a screech-fest he’d heard in the firm’s conference room the other day.

  “What’s the big deal?” Now she looked genuinely mystified. “The one month is your maximum time period, isn’t it? What’s wrong with two weeks?”

  Technically, nothing. In reality, everything. Though he wasn’t quite sure why. As he mulled it over, he contemplated temporarily agreeing to the two weeks and then appealing midway for an extension…

  Why the hell was he strategizing this like it was a court case?

  “Will there be a possibility for extension?”

  She frowned. “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of these relationship parameters of yours?”

  It would, yes. “I’ll make an exception…unless you tell me you have a history of flipping out on the guys you date.”

  She winged an eyebrow up. “What if I did?”

  Hell, he’d probably date her anyway. What was it about her? “I’ll worry about that if it happens.” He smiled when she did, and then proceeded to renegotiate—an occupational reflex. “How about we do a month, and lessen it to two weeks if you feel you really want to?”

  He could tell she was trying not to grin.

  “Even if I wanted to agree to those terms, I couldn’t. I’m heading out of town the day after tomorrow for two weeks.”

  Something unsettling pricked inside of him. Unease? No, it stung deeper than that. Burned, actually. Whatever it was, he wanted to be rid of it. “You’re going on a trip? I thought you said you were busy.”

  “It’s not a trip so much as me going home to stay with my parents for two weeks. My landlords are enclosing that huge patio off the kitchen to make an extra bedroom. They’re slowly making this guest house bigger since I’ll only be living here until next May, and their son is moving in with his wife and two kids after I’m gone.”

  “So they’re kicking you out for two weeks? They should be providing you with an alternative place to live. It’s standard for a landlord—”

  She threw her palms in the air. “Whoa. Don’t turn into Mr. Bigshot Lawyer. I offered to go home to California. Plus, they went out of their way to get a crew that could do the work really quick, specifically in these two weeks to fit my schedule. They even had the builders work out a plan where all the interior reno work would be completed before a lot of the less-pressing exterior projects, contrary to their normal construction routine, so all the more invasive parts would be taken care of before I got back. They really are being great about this.”

  “But everything you need for your research is here.” He was well aware that he was pulling at threads now.

  “True. But, the UC schools have an outstanding library system so I don’t think I’ll have too much difficulty accessing things. And at this portion of my write-up, a lot of what I need is online so I can easily take care of it in Santa Clara.”

  “But you’ll lose half a day flying each way.” Okay, now he was reaching rock bottom. He was actually embarrassed for his law school diploma; it was probably getting ready to jump off his office wall in protest.

  “I’m not flying, I’m driving. It’s peak travel season and flying over would cost more than I’d care to spend.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Now he was more concerned than argumentative. “You’re planning on driving all the way to Santa Clara in that hunk of junk out in your driveway?”

  “Hey!”

  “Sorry, that very lovely POS ‘SUV’ out there.”

  She kept right on glaring at him. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t entirely necessary for him to have included the air quotes, but really, the vehicle was more li
ke a very tall, beat up clown car than an SUV, circa never-bothered-to-be-recorded.

  “Face it, that thing is a nine-car pile-up waiting to happen. You shouldn’t take it on that long of a road trip and you know it.”

  “Well, it’s my only option right now.”

  Something occurred to him then. “Wait, if you knew you were going to be gone, why did you counter with two weeks?” He detested false bids.

  Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. “Actually, I meant the two weeks after I get back, before my schedule starts getting busy.”

  Wow, now he knew exactly how his previous one-monthers felt when he used to schedule them in.

  “Sorry, that sounds terrible.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ve actually done the very same thing before.” And he wouldn’t ever be doing it again. This feeling was flat-out wretched. “Why don’t you just find another place to stay here in town the next two weeks? It’d be simpler than traveling, and we’d still get to have the full month.” Good lord, why was he chasing the woman?

  Though she did look supremely tempted, after a moment of thought, she still shook her head. “I can’t impose on any of my friends for that long. And while I could just book a room somewhere for two weeks and end up spending about as much as I would on gas, I’d hate to try writing for that long in a hotel.”

  He studied her for a second before coming to a decision.

  “Well...then stay with me.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  STRUCK DUMB, and apparently deaf as well, Abby opened and closed her mouth once before shaking her head. Hard. “What?” She must have heard him wrong. Must have.

  “You heard me.”

  Did she?

  Since Connor looked both pleased with himself and just a tiny bit like he might be ready to hurl, she assumed she had.

  “I can’t stay with you for two weeks.”

  “Why not?”

  “Connor, be reasonable.”

  “I’m being very reasonable. Were you going home to see your family or just to work on your dissertation?”

  “The latter mostly,” she confessed.

  “Then do that at my house. I’m not there three-quarters of the time, anyway. And you can head to the library in the afternoons if you’re worried about Skylar bothering you when she comes over afterschool…though it sounds like she and Brian have a pretty strict pact to leave you alone the next few weeks.” He looked at her strangely. “You didn’t tell them you were leaving did you?”

  “I was working up to it. We have a fairly unhealthy codependent relationship.”

  He smiled. “So it seems. Even more reason to remain close by. C’mon, Abby, say yes.”

  “I really shouldn’t.”

  “You’ll have your run of the house. I’ll stick to all aforementioned ice cream parameters. And you won’t have to run around searching for that one mechanic in Arizona that might still be able to find parts for your car when you inevitably have to tow it off the freeway.”

  The man did make a good, if slightly brutal point.

  “You’ll have your own guestroom way on the other end of my—what is it you and Skylar call my house again?”

  “The mini McMansion.”

  He chuckled. “Right. Well, you’ll have your very own McSuite.”

  “And my own in-house McStud?”

  “I do want to ensure you a quality stay,” he deadpanned right back.

  “Connor, this is crazy. This goes against everything you base your one rule on to begin with.”

  “Tell me the truth,” he pressed, “if you could have a guarantee that it wouldn’t be weird, would you stay? Would it help you with your research, and schedule, and sanity if you could just stay in town instead of driving all the way to California?”

  She sighed, sounding exhausted even to her own ears. “Yes.”

  His face changed a little then, gentled, became serious. “Pretend we could rewind the clock back a half hour. You’ve been my brother’s best friend for over a decade, basically a second mother to my niece, and the only one outside of family who helped my sister-in-law through her toughest times. There’s not a single person on my speed dial more deserving of an invite to stay in my home than you. Let me do this. Let me help you with a place to stay for a few weeks so you can work on your dissertation and achieve the goals that you’ve managed to work toward in what little time you’ve spared for yourself. Stay with me. I mean it. It won’t be weird.”

  So unfair. He was playing the noble big brother card and the sweet guy card—the two trump cards—at the same time.

  When she still couldn’t quite get herself to agree, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

  “Who’re you calling?”

  “Brian. I’ll have him convince you.”

  Alarmed, she grabbed for his phone. “No. Don’t do that. I’d rather he and Skylar not know about…this.”

  A hopeful grin lit his face. “So there’s a ‘this’ between us now?”

  She shoved his phone back into his pocket. “It appears there is.”

  “Does this mean I can go ahead and start putting your luggage in my car?”

  “IF I decide to do this, I’ll be putting my luggage in my car and driving over to your place tomorrow.”

  “As long as you’re sure your car will make it that far.”

  She pinched his arm.

  “Ow.” He gave her reassuring smile. “I promise, if you hate it at my house, I’ll have my mechanic look at your car so you can drive it all the way to California.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” She didn’t want him to do that. She didn’t want him spending money on her the way he did his other women. “My car is fine.”

  “I could always call Brian to ask him what he thinks about you driving that insurance risk on wheels over state lines.”

  Glaring at him, she huffed, “You don’t play fair at all.”

  “Nope. That’s actually the tagline on my business card.” He winked.

  Sugarplums, a man this hard should not have such a playful, sexy wink. What was the universe thinking when they’d allowed that combination in his genetic make-up?

  She mulled over the situation. Or at least convinced herself she was, even though deep down she knew she’d already been ready to say yes after his moving speech about her goals. “If you’re sure it won’t get weird, I’d very much appreciate you letting me stay at your house, Connor. Thank you.”

  He flashed her a boyishly happy grin, one Abby hadn’t seen on him yet. Thankfully. Because the effect was almost overkill on the man. With the contrast of his sexy, espresso dark hair—almost black in this light—and his shockingly blue eyes that looked so hauntingly deep at times, the man was a danger to female kind the world over.

  If she didn’t take the appropriate measures, her heart would be joining their ranks on the endangered list.

  “Just one thing... I’ll only stay if we can agree that there will be no sex while I’m there.”

  CONNOR ALL BUT TORE out of skin. “Why the hell not?”

  “You know why. Do you really need me to go into detail about how hard it’s going to be for me? For you? Every day? What would the next morning in your house be like if we indulged in an all-night mind-blowing sexfest?”

  The erection that had been battling for control ever since he’d first pulled Abby onto his lap roared to life, seeking someplace hot and sleek to bury itself. And not just any place. Unable to help himself, he bucked his hips between Abby’s legs in reflex. Because she was straddling him now. To prove her point.

  “Because of this. Right here, Connor.”

  He grew another hard inch as her thighs clenched around his hips.

  “We won’t be able to control this and you know it.”

  He did know it. And it sucked.

  “Fine,” he agreed roughly, feeling like he was signing over the lease to his sanity with the concession.

  She slid off his lap slowly, the barely tamed, hungry lo
ok in her eyes nearly his undoing.

  “If that’s going to be the terms of your stay, you better not plan on writing the day you’re allowed to move back here, sweetheart,” he growled. “Because after two weeks of this, I’ll make damn sure your research is the last thing on your mind.”

  A look of hope lit her eyes. “Does that mean you’re still going to give me my wild and fast, after the fact?”

  Her breath broke so sweetly that he found himself groaning, “Fast is going to be a given, honey. At least the first three or four times that day, whether I want it to be or not.”

  A wobbly laugh escaped her. “I meant is it really okay with you that our one month is going to be different than what you’re used to?”

  “It’ll be worth it,” he assured her.

  She stared at him for a weighty moment before getting up and scurrying onto the couch, leaving him on the floor, a good two feet away.

  That was probably wise.

  Didn’t mean he had to like it. He picked up his beer and downed half the bottle. The liquid was already lukewarm but considering how unbelievably hot he was feeling, it was practically ice cold going down his throat.

  “So what kind of case are you working on right now?”

  He choked and almost sent the beer down the wrong tube. She wanted to do small talk? Now? One look at her was confirmation enough that she was serious. Sitting there with her forearms wrapped around her legs, knees tucked under her chin, and eyes still slightly glazed with arousal, she was seriously asking him about work.

  “It’s just that I figured you must be working on some big case since your phone has been going off non-stop in your pocket all night.”

  Her eyes widened then as she turned her focus quickly down at her toes. He grinned...because they both knew his phone had been on vibrate during all those missed calls.

  And she’d been sitting on it for a good five minutes.

  “Actually, I have been working on a big case,” he eventually replied, letting her off from the teasing he was dying to give. Just this once. He turned and draped his arm on the seat cushion beside her, grinning outright when the accidental brush of his fingers against her calf had her eyes dilating sharply. “It’s my most important one this year—a corporate acquisition tied to a multi-layered merger that I’ve spent months trying to close.”