Girls' Night Out (Bad Boys) (2 page)

After hanging up with her father, she pushed to the edge of her seat, and people watched. Darn, but this was consternating as all get out, trying to fly home, and having to deal with delay after freaking delay. Cory tapped her fingernails done in a French manicure along the zipper of her bag. It had been weeks since she’d had time to do her nails or hair. Yesterday, she’d driven all over L.A. like a crazy person looking for a salon. More than one snooty receptionist had informed her that this close to the holiday and they’d been booked for weeks. At the end of her rope, she’d bitten the bullet, and poured on the charm, enough to snag an appointment. But at this rate, she’d be biting her nails down to nubs if someone didn’t do something to get her on a flight home, and pronto!

She picked up her carry-on, thinking how different her life had become as a freshman at UCLA. Studying, a full load of classes, a marketing project near completion, her part-time job within the business school…oh yeah, and no sleep. She was so ready for a break and some pampering. The last plane delay had Cory’s teeth worrying her bottom lip. Outside the sun was shining, but apparently somewhere east of L.A. the skies were not so blue. Boxed in to the right and left, her jittery nerves had her jumpier than a barnyard cat thanks to two cups of coffee and hours of sitting and stewing. A coil tightened in her belly, ready to snap.

Cory bounded to her feet and exited the departure lounge. All her pent-up frustration at being caged within LAX was about to come to a head. She walked a couple of steps and dodged a flight attendant with a fast-moving luggage cart. Then a group of men and women in uniform were hotfooting toward her and she ended up hugging a post as their duffle bags knocked into her. She switched sides of the corridor. Another few steps and she walked into a cloud of window cleaner being sprayed by an airport worker. Choking, she coughed as her eyes stung and she headed for an open spot along the wall. Blindly, she groped for her tissue.

A short stroll was turning into a fight to traipse down the corridor. In Terminal Three, amidst the crowds of passengers and airport employees, Cory elbowed her way to keep her place next to the wall, and dabbed at her eyes.

A power walking man—more like Goliath—leaned in too close and she had no escape. Nowhere to go as he came barreling up to her, so near that the whiff of his clean scent filled her senses. He talked low, but she could hear the rich twang of his voice, speaking about a contract problem. His tone was pure displeasure but his drawl was achingly Texas familiar. Brows drawn up tight, his expression was fierce, commanding and didn’t intimidate her a bit. Not with five raucous brothers, a strict father, and a gaggle of uncles and cousins; this lone wolf didn’t derail her in the least.

“Watch it,” she called out, but her voice faded into the buzz of white noise from travelers and another announcement overhead. The man seemed to be reading a sign on the ceiling. Definitely, he wasn’t paying attention to her.

Crap!
Cory sucked in her breath, preparing to be pulverized. She couldn’t watch and shut her eyes. When his muscular bicep connected with her shoulder, she felt a powerful smack, and reeled backward, heading for a sharp trip into the wall. Her eyes flashed open, locking with his. The connection was like a cracking whip with a biting snap to her brain.

His green eyes widened for a millisecond, then his steely expression changed. Liquefied her. “Got to go,” Goliath snarled into his cell.

He shot his arm out in her direction. Strong fingers curled around her arm, discharging a juggernaut of racing awareness into her body. She squeaked and tried to fight, but he tugged her towar
d him.

Goliath smirked down at her. “I don’t think so.”

In an instant, she faced his arresting features up close. It didn’t help that his square jaw had just the right amount of stubble or his dark hair had that sinful quality—as in sex yanking thick. Over six feet of undeniable masculinity made her skin tighten.

Her
Let me
go!
dissolved like sugar crystals on the tip of her tongue as she stared into the intense emerald color of his eyes. He had her attention all right, so much that she stumbled, tripping over her own feet. She lowered her gaze only to find herself staring at his expansive shoulders.

Oh Jesus. It didn’t get any easier being inches away from his T-shirt, stretched perilously thin over a set of hard to miss pectoral muscles. The space between her and the Titan evaporated with the pressure of his arm crowded against her ribcage, pushing at the under swell of her boobs. A force infusing her from head to toe, daring her to draw a breath.

“You can let go now,” she finally whispered in a hoarse voice. Her focus snapped to his rugged face and his quirked full lips and the impact
acted like an eraser, dissolving all thoughts from Cory’s whiteboard of a mind.

His eyes lowered to her chest, scoring a close-up view down the neckline of her blouse. His heated gaze branded her body for the year it took for his attention to rebound to her face.

Goliath relaxed his death grip somewhat. “You need to watch where you’re headed in this jungle. This is no place to daydream, darling. “His eyes darkened and jetted a shard of arousal through her.

“Excuse me,” she hissed.
Why did his words feel like a gallon of diesel fuel thrown onto a burn pile ready to incinerate?

“This isn’t Candy Land where you can stand in the walkway with your eyes closed.” His brow arched. “And those stilts you’re waltzing around on could get you into trouble.”

“That’s none of your concern.” She tugged her arm to release his grip.

“Oh no? Seems like it just was.” He still had not let go completely, but stared down at her, searching her face. “Be careful. Okay?”

Slowly, his fingers grazed along her arm, stopping at her elbow as if to steady her. She nodded mutely, hyperaware that his warm hand brushing over her skin had the power of a shockwave over her body. And just as mind-blowing, she realized she liked it. A lot.

He shot her a puzzled look, as though he felt the jolt as well. “I’m running late. Do you know where you’re going?”

“Of course,” she replied, taking a deep breath to clear the fog from her dazed mind.

“Then take it easy.” His gaze lingered, then he shook his head, and let go of her. Goliath sauntered away. As rapidly as he’d come, he was gone.

“Well, I friggin’ declare.” Cory glared in his direction, but given the back of his head had no eyes, it was a futile act.

Goliath marshaled onward, cellphone reattached to his head, and a carry-on slung over his wide shoulder. She didn’t even have the chance to chastise or thank him properly. A spurt of heat shot up her spine and she exhaled a flustered breath, staring after the stranger with thick dark hair and a lickable body.
Oh,
Stop that!

Cory swung her attention in the other direction down the corridor and ran her fingertips over the surface of painted flower petals as she leaned against the wall, taking in the cresting sea of airport inhabitants. Inexplicably, she turned her attention back to the direction where the stranger headed and her chest tightened. Her arm still tingled. She glanced down to where he’d touched her; there were no marks, of course. But on closer inspection, she could still smell the fresh outdoors scent of him wafting on her skin. She inhaled as if to draw him back to her.

It had been darn near forever since she’d gotten this close to a man and the scorching heat that had radiated off Goliath made her bite her lip. Rolling her eyes, she scanned the ceiling, refusing to watch the hunk disappear from view.

Down the walkway, she traced her palm over the vibrant collage flowing across the wall. More thuds and bumps came from other bodies, but after a while, she ignored the passersby, preferring to contemplate the artwork along the wall. LAX had shops, cafes, kiosks, and yards of a holiday artwork installation. Holiday for California equated to bright hues of fuchsia, orange, sunflower yellow, and Kelly green with a backdrop of palm trees and convertibles. So very different from her hometown.

Twenty minutes later, she crossed and reentered the departure lounge that resembled an overstuffed beehive. It was twice as crowded with two planes now gearing up for takeoff. Passengers had taken to spreading out and there were bags, parcels, pillows and all sorts of things clogging the aisle. She bobbed between two children, then wove and stepped high over a carry-on, taking refuge in one of the few empty seats.

Plunking down on the hard plastic chair, she eyed the runway, then noticed her reflection in the polished glass. A spark of excitement crackled over her skin. It wasn’t her reflection that riveted her attention, but that of the man seated in back of her. His familiar profile and shoulders rose a good six inches above hers. Dammit, but Goliath was seated right behind her. She inhaled to steady herself and picked up a trace of his mind-bending cologne. Her hearing zoned in on his voice just as a shiver unleashed in her body.

Stop acting ridiculous.
Rolling her eyes, she crossed her legs and reached for a magazine from her bag, then flipped through twenty pages without recalling what she’d read. Cory stopped fighting the desire to spy on Goliath and glanced back to his reflection. A jolt ran through her just from looking at him.

The man had to be an athlete from what she could tell of his powerful build. Difficult to see much through the glaring sunlight streaming through the plate glass viewing wall, but what she’d gathered made her swallow. Hard. He laughed suddenly, and the sound sent a swarm of chill bumps racing over her skin. He looked to be doing something on an iPad.

Darn, he was built, and that was saying something, considering her father, uncles, and brothers were tall in that overbearing, Texas kind of way.

Biting her bottom lip, she wobbled on the corner of her seat as she studied his chiseled features, wondering if he was on her flight or the other one. Both were headed to Dallas. Without warning, Cory lost her balance and rapidly grabbed at the seat. The only thing she managed to do was knock over her bag on her way to a kerplunk landing on the floor. Everything from her purse lay helter-skelter over the carpet.

“Jesus H. Christ,” she said, then quickly pulled down her skirt that had inched way up her thighs.

“I should have known,” a male voice muttered, and then
Goliath
was out of his seat and kneeling next to her.

Their gazes connected and she felt a warm giddy-up skittering in her belly. She couldn’t help but gape at him, made worse when her train of thought suddenly evaporated the second his eyes flicked over her and he said, “I’d better help. At the rate you’re moving, you’re bound to be missing something or risk getting pushed over just sitting here.”

“You don’t have to,” she murmured.

His only reply was an arched brow and short grunt coupled with a tightening of his mouth. Cory tucked her legs to the side of her, and rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, unable to think of a single thing to say. He picked up her ID badge and iPod while she stowed her agenda and wallet, and tried to focus on what to pick up next from the jumbled mess.

“May I have my iPod and ID?” She delivered a pointed look in his direction. It was a boomerang effect and she gasped, searching his face.

Amusement lit up his green eyes. “Maybe. How much stuff do you have?” He half snorted, half laughed. “Girl, you don’t need this much to travel to the next galaxy and back.”

“Your duffle is far larger than my carry-on, so I wouldn’t be talking. I don’t even think that monstrosity is regulation size.”

Cory jerked her chin over to his black leather duffle, glancing across the short distance of the floor to his bag, stationed near his muscular thigh. Her gaze shifted, falling between his open legs, and touched upon the bulge at his crotch. He…it was huge. As if burned, she averted her gaze, blinking in confusion. Inwardly, she groaned when a scalding blush overtook her cheeks, one she knew she couldn’t hide.

Goliath seemed to contemplate her words or perhaps he understood her embarrassment, which made the eternity it took him to respond god-awful long. Then a wide smile spread across his handsome face. “That’s my only bag. And I’m guessing you checked one bag and had to pay extra for the others you’re hauling back home for, what? Three or four days?”

Cory shrugged a shoulder,
quickly glancing downward and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That isn’t true.”

“Is that your best poker face? Better just come clean,” he snickered. “I can tell you’re hip deep in balderdash.”

Her eyes flashed back to his face. “
Balderdash?
How old are you?”

He sighed. “My mother taught me not to cuss in front of a lady, or any woman,” he said, holding out his other—very empty—hand.

“What?” she blurted. “Are you going to hand over my stuff?”

“I wanted to introduce myself. We might be on the same flight. Or at least headed in the same direction.”

“But
we
are so not from the same world.” Her instinct, aroused by his unbelievable charm, warned her that his world was located someplace far away from where she hailed.

“We’re both from Texas. It’s almost like we’re kin. Might be kissing cousins.” He laughed again, making the space between them shrink and take on an intimate quality. Sensual. And all the more decadent by his loaded words.

“In your dreams,” she retorted, not about to let him have the last say.

“Or maybe in yours. ’Cause Sugar, I’m not the one with my head in the clouds. I’ve got a real life that keeps me grounded.”

Dang it…his words hit a little too close for comfort. She reminded herself not to take the bait, but his teasing tone and irresistible smile were too hard to ignore. Something in him had definitely snagged something in her.

“Yeah. I can only imagine the type of grounding a guy like you is into.”

“A guy like me?” He grinned, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. What would it feel like to have a man like this kiss her…or suck on her skin?

“You’re as transparent as glass,” she mocked him.