Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)(40)

He also had a large collection of action figures, all in their original boxes. It was like a low-budget version of The Forty Year Old Virgin, but without the laugh track. She’d had such hopes for Robert, she thought. Hopes that were not going to be realized. Even without thoughts of Josh tugging at her subconscious, she wouldn’t have been able to fall for a guy who seemed way more interested in his soldier models than in the woman standing next to him.

She walked into the hotel and told herself not to feel defeated. She would find the right guy for her…eventually. If she kept putting herself out there, eventually she had to find the one, didn’t she? Statistically, at least, if not in real life.

She took the stairs to her floor, then turned toward her room. Her mystery guy was out there. She just had to be patient.

JOSH STEPPED OUT INTO the hallway and nearly bumped into Charity.

They both came to a stop. He was aware he was standing too close, he could feel her warm breath on his face. His gaze settled on her mouth, which made him remember what it had been like to kiss her.

“How was your evening?” he asked.

“Fine. Great. I had dinner with Robert.”

Of course she had, Josh thought humorously, but didn’t react in any way. “He’s a good guy.”

“Yes, he is.”

She spoke defiantly, raising her chin as if daring him to disagree with her. Not that he would. From what he knew about Robert, the man was solid. A little weird, but who was he to be critical of anyone? If Charity had found someone, that was great.

Only it wasn’t, and knowing she’d been out with Robert seriously pissed him off.

It wasn’t just Robert, he admitted. It was everything else. The race, how he was stuck, unable to do what he loved. He knew he should just get on the damn bike and ride through the fear, but whenever he tried, he broke out in a sweat and thought he was going to pass out. Then he had to step away to throw up. Not a pretty picture. Or one to be proud of.

“My going out with him isn’t about you,” she told him.

“Never thought it was.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Right.” Now he was pissed. “Have you kissed Robert? Because you sure as hell kissed me.”

She stiffened, then looked around as if she didn’t want anyone to hear.

“That was an accident,” she said, her voice low and tense.

“Right. You fell into my arms and our mouths bumped.”

Irritation flashed in her brown eyes. “You’re not all that.”

Truer words had never been spoken, he thought, then he grabbed her upper arms and drew her in those last few inches.

“Want to bet?” he asked, right before his mouth settled on hers.

For a second, there was nothing. Charity didn’t react, which left him feeling like a complete jerk. What was he thinking? This wasn’t his style. That would imply caring—something he didn’t do anymore.

He was about to pull back, to apologize, when she wrapped her arms around his neck, parted her mouth and kissed him as if he was her last, best hope to survive.

Where there had been only irritation and a vague desire to prove something, now there was need and wanting. His blood heated to boiling. He placed his hands on either side of her face as he kissed her deeply, taking and giving, wanting her to lose herself in him.

She gave as good as he offered, her tongue dueling with his. She squirmed to get closer, which took him from hard to aching. He might not have had sex in a really long time, but he hadn’t forgotten what all the fuss was about. He wanted Charity and he wanted her now.

CHAPTER NINE

CHARITY HADN’T MEANT to kiss Josh back. He was obviously annoyed about something and as much as she would like to think it had to do with her spending time with Robert, she wasn’t to the point of being willing to fool herself. So resisting his pushy kiss was the smartest reaction.

If only, she thought, straining to get closer, to deepen the kiss. Passion erupted with a fury that left her shaken and weak in every sense of the word. There was something about this man—all it took was the promise of a touch and she lost control. She needed his body with an intensity that frightened her. Now, with his mouth on hers, his hands roaming down her back to her hips, she found herself perilously close to begging. More. She needed more.

She angled her head and met him stroke for stroke. His tongue ignited need, fueling the melting. Her skin seemed ultrasensitive, making her aware of every stroke, each caress as he rubbed her arms, then settled his hands on her waist. Her br**sts were heavy and aching. Between her legs, she was already wet and swollen. Ready. Desperately ready.

In case he hadn’t figured that out, she closed the millimeter or two separating them, pressing her body against his. He was strong and broad, but what interested her the most was the thick ridge that settled against her belly. The physical proof he wanted her, too.

He drew back enough to kiss along her jaw before dropping to her neck. Open-mouthed kisses sent shivers of delight racing through her.

Maybe he’d had as many women as people claimed.

Maybe this was a hideous mistake. Either way, she knew she’d never felt such heat before. Such surging hunger. To make sure he got the message, she drew his hands to her br**sts.

As his palms cupped her curves and his skilled fingers teased her tight and sensitive ni**les, their eyes locked.

She saw an answering fire in his, a desire that eased any concern she had about whether he was just being polite.