Branded as Trouble (12 page)

He grinned in the boyish way that had her returning his smile without hesitation. “I see that. Does that mean you’re finished?”

Colt latched onto her hips and thrust her in front of him. “Uh-huh. Now it’s your turn.”

“But I don’t know how to play.”

“I’ll help you.” Colt guided her fingers to the circular buttons on either side of the machine, snuggling his body behind hers.

“These are flippers, they keep your ball in play.” He pressed her www.samhainpublishing.com 117

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fingers and the small mechanical arms moved. “See? Now get ready.” He pulled back on the silver knob on the right side, which connected to a shiny spring.

India watched the metal ball travel up the canal and bounce around the posts at the top, before continuing down the middle and out of sight.

Not a good sign. “Sorry. Told you I was bad at this.”

“It’s okay, but next time, hit your flippers.” Colt released the spring again, sending the next ball to the left side. India continually pushed the buttons.

He murmured, “Slow down. Not yet. Wait for it.”

His husky voice sent a shiver up her spine. She completely forgot what she was doing until the flash of the silver ball caught her eye as it rolled down the center.

Colt groaned.

India groaned. “I did it again.”

“It’s all right.” His warm breath fluttered over her neck. “Just takes practice.” He flicked the ball high, murmuring encouraging comments in her ear.

Whoa. Tandem pinball had serious benefits. Colt did a little hip wiggle, positioning his hard body firmly into her backside and a blast of pure sexual heat rocketed through her. She closed her eyes to savor the moment.

Colt’s disgruntled snort forced her eyes back open.

“What?”

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“The key to this game is concentration. I know you can do it.

I’ve seen you with a tattoo gun. Focus.” His hands tightened over hers on the flippers.

She imagined his warm, rough palms sliding up her arms and across her chest. First he’d squeeze her breasts, then pluck her nipples between his fingertips. He’d keep smoothing those wicked hands down her stomach until they landed on her hips. His fingers would meet in the center of her body; one quick tug and the top button on her jeans would pop open—

“Are you even watchin’? Because you didn’t use your flippers once—”

She spun around so quickly he staggered, grabbing onto her shoulders for balance. “Actually, I wasn’t paying attention. It’s distracting when you’re pressed against me.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I liked it. A lot.”

The scant space between them crackled with energy. Neither spoke, neither broke eye contact. Several long seconds passed before Colt lowered his mouth to hers.

India’s head buzzed while his lips moved back and forth.

Lightly. He kept the kiss soft, sensual. Rough thumbs caressed her cheekbones before his fingers tunneled into her hair.

He canted her head to his liking. Teased her with soft lips and sharp nips of his teeth and warm breath, sweet there-and-gone kisses. His hands began traveling down her body. He slicked the very tip of his tongue across the seam of her lips and her mouth opened to him.

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India boldly thrust her tongue in further, hoping for a stronger, more complete flavor. He tasted faintly of root beer and toothpaste; with an underlying hint of spice she’d associated as uniquely his.

Colt gripped her hips and pressed his pelvis closer as he maneuvered her against the pinball machine.

A sharp pain jabbed her spine. “Ouch.”

“Hang on,” he muttered against her throat, hoisting her on top of the pinball machine. Urging her knees open, he positioned himself between her thighs and clamped his mouth over hers with renewed fervor.

Lights flashed, bells clanged and India knew it wasn’t from the arcade games. His cunning hands and hot mouth unleashed a steel ball of desire and it broke free to ricochet wildly in her blood. She wanted the heat bubbling under her skin to ignite his. She let her head fall back as he trailed openmouthed kisses down her neck.

His hot breath scorched her. He yanked her shirt down, exposing more skin to run his tongue and his teeth over without impediments.

She shivered and squeezed her thighs tightly, trying to line up the wet, aching part of herself with his cock.

He circled his arousal against her, finding the perfect friction, and took the next kiss down to where she felt it in the very depths of her soul.

“Hey!” A gravelly voice barked. “I warned you kids once about messing around in here.”

India opened her eyes and focused on Colt. She’d never seen such hunger on a man’s face. Hunger for her.

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The intruder shuffled closer and said, “Well, hell, you two aren’t exactly kids.”

“We’re aware of that.” Colt kept his gaze on India as he helped her slide off the machine.

She stood next to him on wobbly legs.

“You oughta act better than this. It’s those damn teenagers I usually hafta worry about.” The man’s jowls shook. “Found a used condom behind that pinball machine. Had to close the place down to clean every horizontal surface.”

He glared at the pinball machine behind India, looking like he expected her to pull out a bottle of Windex, a roll of paper towels and wipe her butt prints off the machine. His bulk shifted as he waited for an explanation for their behavior.

But India shot the man a flinty eyed stare. “So, we got carried away. I swear we weren’t to the condom stage…”

Yet.

The unspoken word hung in the sexually charged air.

The fat man snarled, “Get out.”

Two weeks would kill him. Hell, they hadn’t passed the two-hour mark without mauling each other. In public. Getting kicked out of an arcade for lewd behavior. For Christsake, they were adults!

Yeah. He sucked at this dating stuff as much as India did.

Which reinforced his determination to see it through. To the end.

Twelve days. Two hundred and eighty eight hours.

Not that Colt was keeping track.

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They returned to the table as their pizza arrived. For the next hour, the conversation wasn’t different than the other times they’d gone out as friends.

With the exception they were holding hands.

With the exception they were making googly eyes at each other and lacing their banter with sexual innuendos.

With the exception Colt’s cock was as hard as a hockey stick.

Nah. That wasn’t anything new.

On the way back to Sundance, India scooted next to him on the bench seat. She fiddled with the radio. The temperature. The position of the air vents.

She was nervous. Interesting.

Colt pulled up to the back of the building.

India said, “Is this where you tell me you had a great time and you’ll call me?”

“No.”

“You didn’t have a great time?”

“I had a fantastic time.” He curled his hand around her jaw and turned her face to his. “I’d like nothin’ better than to come in, but we both know it’s better if I say goodnight here.”

She kissed him with sweet regret. “I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow night?”

“Yep. And afterward, I want to do something with you.”

“Not do something
to
me?” she teased.

“Hold that thought for another twelve days. How about if we go out for ice cream?”

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A devious smile lit up her face. “With the no sex rule, you seriously think you can handle watching me lick an ice cream cone for more than thirty seconds?”

The reality of her pink tongue lapping. Her mouth sucking.

Watching her throat muscles as she swallowed the creaminess. No way. “Point taken. How about a—”

“How about if you leave it up to me?”

Colt frowned.

“Innocent fun. I promise.”

***

“No peeking, McKay.”

“I can’t see a damn thing.”

“Good.”

After the A.A. meeting, India had commandeered his truck and blindfolded him. She held his hands as she helped him out of the passenger side. She kept holding his hands as they walked up a small incline. They were outside, on grass, not gravel. He was trying like hell not to be freaked out. He was hoping like hell this wasn’t some bizarre game of trust she’d concocted because he hadn’t participated in the one at the meeting again.

“Ready? Keep your eyes closed.”

The silken scarf slipped from his eyes, teasing him with the aroma of her perfume.

“Okay. You can open them.”

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His eyes blinked a couple times. He looked around. Two swing sets, a jungle gym, a sandbox and monkey bars. They were in City Park.

“A playground. You brought me to a playground?”

“Yep. Pull up a swing.” India ran to the swing on the left and hopped on the rubber seat. She wrapped her hands around the chains and started to move, pumping her legs.

He ambled over and plopped next to her, straddling the swing so the chain followed the line of his spine and he could look at her.

“Aren’t you gonna swing?”

“Nope. I’d rather watch you.”

“Suit yourself.” Each pass took her swing higher. The metal bars bounced and the chains squeaked.

India’s movements hypnotized Colt. The wind ruffling her coal black hair, the ends colored a vivid blue, which emphasized the paleness of her skin. The scarf fluttered behind her in a jaunty wave as she swung forward.

His stomach fluttered. God. She was so beautiful. So happy in her own tattooed and pierced skin. So honest and thoughtful and crazy fun. So…India.

So mine.

She slowed and stopped by letting her combat boots drag in the shallow dent in the dirt, facing him in mirror position. “Don’t you like to swing?”

“Been so long I don’t remember.” He grinned at her.

“So…come here often?”

India returned his grin. “No. Sky won’t let me bring Eliza yet.”

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“So you brought me instead?”

“Do you mind?”

“Nope, I just don’t understand why.”

“This might sound silly and sappy and stupid.”

“I doubt it.”

She poked her fingers through the chain links. “You know all those romantic comedies where the man and woman end up in a park having a heart to heart on the swings? Or the swing set is their special meeting place from their childhood and they reconnect there as adults? Or where they had their first kiss?”

“I guess.”

“I’ve never done anything like that.”

Colt waited.

“My memories of schoolyards are mostly bad. Hanging around, looking for drugs, getting into trouble. I’d like to have a good memory. Something romantic like in the movies.” She finally looked at him so earnestly his heart melted. “With you.”

“Ah hell, sugar, c’mere,” he managed over the lump in his throat. He scooted forward and yanked her chain, bringing her swing closer to his. “I’m not really romantic leading man material.”

“You are to me,” she said softly.

Colt touched the side of her face. “Know one of my favorite things about you? You live in the moment. Without apology. With gusto. It’s a helluva thing to see.”

She appeared poleaxed by his words.

When he leaned forward to kiss her, he urged, “Close your eyes.”

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Her dark lashes fanned her cheek.

He brushed his lips over hers. “Your mouth is so soft. Such a perfect fit for mine.” At first, Colt kissed her with passion and promise, then he gentled the kiss into something wholly different.

Sweetness. Tenderness.

India sighed in his mouth.

His smile broke their lips free. “So in any of these romantic comedies, do they end up doin’ it on the swing?”

“Umm. No.”

“Pity. That, I’d pay to see.”

“Maybe we oughta jot that down on our kinky sex fantasy list to try, once we actually start having sex.”

“You have a…list of that kinda stuff?”

“Uh-huh. Don’t you?”

“No, but you can bet your sweet behind I’m startin’ one right now.”

She laughed.

They held hands as they walked back to the truck. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re welcome. What are we doin’ tomorrow night?”

“Nothing. We can’t have a date every night of the week, Colt.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I think I’m supposed to play coy, bat my lashes, and pretend to be ‘busy’ washing my hair for the next two nights to keep you interested.”

He snorted. “The datin’ handbook clearly states we spend as much time together as possible to keep me interested.”

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“There’s a handbook?”

“Yep.”

“Then you’ve got an advantage over me because I’m flying blind here, Colt.” India gave him all-too brief a kiss before she hopped out of the cab.

He was damn tired of saying goodbye to her from the driver’s seat of his truck. And it was only their second date.

Colt put India out of his mind during the hours he spent working on the ranch. She’d kept her tattoo shop open late some nights, so she’d bailed on him for a third date.

When he’d called after breakfast and asked her plans for the evening, she’d offered some half-assed excuse. He couldn’t imagine she’d actually attempt the “playing hard to get” angle.

Instead of brooding and pacing in his empty house, he headed to the community center. He ran. Lifted weights. It helped if he focused on the pain of pushing himself to the limit and couldn’t flash back to the way India felt in his arms. The sweet, addictive taste of her mouth. The intoxicating scent of her hair and her skin.

Her soft, breathy moans when he kissed her. The husky, sexy timbre of her voice in his ear.