Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(41)

Knox: Good. Then unless you tell me otherwise, I’m coming over with groceries.

Why wouldn’t she tell him to come over? Unless he was just coming to eat and nothing else. Or maybe he was coming over for work.

Darya: Why would I say no to food?

For the longest time, she stood there, staring at the screen and waiting for the answer that refused to come. She was just about to toss the phone to the counter and let her sore muscles soak in the nearly full bath when the little dots that promised an incoming message danced along the bottom of the window.

Knox: Because after you feed me I plan to fuck you until you don’t know your name. So, what’s your answer?

Her heart seized then tumbled back to a jagged rhythm. On the surface, the response was crude. Utterly disrespectful and harsh. But something told her there was more behind it. The same frustration and need she’d combated for seven very long days veiled beneath a bold dare.

And he’d left the ball squarely in her court.

Surely she could keep herself in check. She had to. Because saying no to him wasn’t an option. Not even something temporary and decadently shallow. Her body needed it. Demanded it.

She straightened away from the vanity and let her thumbs fly across the keyboard.

Darya: Technically, I have two names. You’d have your work cut out for you.

The little dots popped up right away and she held her breath.

Knox: Challenge accepted. Be there in thirty.

“Yes!” Her triumphant exclamation bounced off the stark white tiles, bringing with it the reality of what she’d just read.

Her head snapped up to the mirror. The bold and energy efficient LED bulbs shone down on her, spotlighting her bedraggled appearance. Thirty minutes was nothing. Barely enough time to get her hair dry let alone make an impression.

As soon as the thought ricocheted around in her head, another more calculated one slid in behind it. Only a woman out to tempt a man would race to make an impression. An indifferent one would be herself. She smiled back at her reflection. She could do indifferent. In fact, she knew just the right way to pull that off.





Chapter Sixteen

Knox stomped up the last few steps to Darya’s apartment, shifted the sack of ingredients he’d pilfered from his and Beckett’s pantry to one hip and knocked on the front door.

Darya’s muffled voice sounded through the thick wooden door. “It’s open.”

“You gotta be shittin’ me,” he said under his breath and curled his hand around the knob. Sure enough, the damned thing twisted smooth as butter and whisked open without a sound. Even the POS security system he’d had Danny put in was silent.

He shut the door behind him, threw the bolt and punched in the code. “You want to tell me why your front door’s unlocked?”

The rush of running water sounded from her bathroom, but no answer came.

Knox stomped toward the open bathroom door. “Darya?”

The water stopped. “What?”

“Why the hell did you leave your front door unlocked?”

She stepped into view, not a stitch on except a fluffy white towel wrapped around her chest. “Because I just got out of the shower and I still needed to brush my teeth.” Her hair was wet, but combed through and swept to one side so it spilled over one breast and her face was completely void of makeup.

Fuck, she was beautiful. Stunning just the way God made her. He clenched his hand tighter against the brown paper bag filled with food and fought the need to toss the lot of it to the ground. To rip the offensive towel away, plant her ass on the sink behind her and sink his dick inside her right now.

“You’re running from someone,” he said instead.

The easy smile on her face disappeared, replaced with caution. “Was running.”

“What if whoever it is is still looking? I changed those locks and put that system in for a reason. You think it’s a good idea to just leave yourself exposed?”

She cocked her head and lowered her voice. “I saw you pull up in the parking lot. It was only unlocked from the time you got out until the time you walked through the door.” She gripped the top of the towel and shifted it as though making sure it was properly in place. “I wouldn’t take unnecessary risks.”

Of course, she wouldn’t. She was too smart for that. But he’d sure shown his ass storming in and jumping her shit. He dipped his chin and stepped away. It was either that or pull her against him and hold her there until his heart stopped its angry tantrum. “I’ll get the stuff set up.”

Not waiting for a response, he strode to the kitchen. He had everything unpacked and a skillet and casserole dish ready to go by the time Darya strolled toward the counter. He dumped the ground beef into the skillet, watching her from the corner of his eye.

She tilted the jar of spaghetti sauce back enough to check the label then shifted her attention to the crumpled and food-stained piece of paper beside it. Gently tracing one side, she said, “Whose recipe is this?”

“Momma McKee’s.”

Her head snapped up. “Who’s Momma McKee?”

He put the lid on the skillet and forced himself to face her. The full-on experience sucker punched him hard. Her feet were still bare, but she’d put on pale gray leggings that looked as soft as his down comforter at home and a worn oversize button-down that begged a man to unbutton it. Slowly. And it was thin. So much so, the light behind her just barely outlined the lower swell of one breast.