Fast & Loose Elizabeth Bevarly (bts book recommendations .txt) 📖

this? This went beyond attraction. This was something she feared she could barely contain. Which was all the more reason, she told herself, why she had to contain it.

Now.

Rufus sucked her lower lip into his mouth and nibbled it gently with the edges of his teeth.

Really, she told herself. Had to contain it now.

He traced her upper lip with the tip of his tongue, then rubbed his nose lightly against hers.

Now, Bree. Now.

He threaded his fingers in her hair, gripped a long strand and pulled gently to tip her head back, then rubbed his lips over the sensitive length of throat he exposed.

Now!

She had no idea how she managed it, but somehow, Bree was able to dip her head to the side and halt his progress. He didn’t seem to notice she was doing it to stop him, though, and covered her mouth with his again. She kissed him back for a little while longer—since she knew this was never, ever going to happen again…dammit—then dragged her mouth from his to pull in a few long gasps of air.

He allowed her that small escape, but pressed his forehead to hers and kept his fingers tangled in her hair. She felt more than saw his smile as he murmured, very, very softly, “So, Bree. It suddenly occurs to me that maybe you might like me a little bit, after all.”

She wished she could deny it. But she’d look like an idiot if she tried. She couldn’t even deny it to herself anymore. She’d liked Rufus more than she should—more than she’d allowed herself to think about—since her first day on the job. She hadn’t wanted to, but there it was all the same. How could a woman not be attracted to him? He was gorgeous, funny, smart, and sweet. He was a good guy. An incredibly hot good guy at that.

“Okay, I admit it,” she said softly. “I like you a little bit.”

He brushed his lips lightly over her temple, and she couldn’t help the purr of contentment that rose inside and rolled out of her. “I think,” he said, his breath warm against her face, “that maybe you even like me a lot.”

He moved his mouth to skim it over her cheekbone, nuzzle her jaw, and draw his open lips down the sensitive flesh of her neck. The purr of contentment grew to a shudder of delight, and suddenly Bree was curling her fingers in his hair and tilting her head back, to both bring him closer and give him better access. He took full advantage, combing his fingers through her hair and pushing it back, moving his head upward again to rub his nose softly against hers, then skimming his lips across her cheek until he could nibble her ear lobe.

“Admit it,” he whispered. “You like me a lot.”

“I do,” she groaned. “I like you a lot. Too much.”

And that was the problem, she told herself. She liked Rufus way more than she should. Enough to risk losing sight of the goal she’d been focused on all her life. The goal that was growing more important every day. Rufus couldn’t provide what Bree needed. It was as simple as that. To let this go any further would only hurt them both.

Reluctantly, she pulled her head away from his and stepped back, far enough to move out of the kitchen doorway and, more important, out of his reach. Just to be safe, though, she also turned her back on him before saying what she had to say. If she was looking at him when she said it, she’d lose sight of what she needed to make clear to him. Or she’d lose her nerve. Or she’d lose herself.

“Rufus, I can’t do this. Not with you.”

He said nothing in response, but she heard him sigh. Loudly. Impatiently. Angrily? Oh, surely not. Rufus was too good a guy to get angry over something like this.

“Because I don’t have money,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“That’s the only reason.”

“That’s the only one.”

“It’s a stupid reason, Bree.”

“To you. Not to me.”

“Then maybe you should explain it to me in a way that would make me think it less stupid.”

There was no way she could do that. Unless Rufus had grown up the way she had, unless he knew her mother as she was now, Bree couldn’t make him understand. In spite of that, she turned around and, still avoiding his gaze, crossed her arms over her midsection in an effort to shore herself up.

“I never knew my dad,” she said. “I don’t even know how well my mom knew my dad. Hell, I don’t know for sure if my mom even knows which guy of a couple she dated is my dad. He was a soldier at Fort Knox—that much I do know. My mom could never resist a man in uniform.”

Her mother still couldn’t resist a man in uniform. There was a new guy at the nursing home who thought he was Douglas MacArthur, and Rosie Calhoun was completely enamored of him. He was crazy about her, too. Of course, he thought Bree’s mother was one of the Andrews Sisters and Rosie hadn’t exactly tried to dissuade him of the notion. Then again, there were times when Bree wasn’t sure her mom didn’t think she was one of the Andrews Sisters, too.

“Anyway,” she started again, “whoever my father was, he never came around after I was born, and he never sent anything to help out.”

Rufus said nothing, but he took a few steps toward her. Bree took a few more in retreat, circling the sofa to put it between the two of them.

“Okay, I get it,” he said, stopping. “I promise to stay on my side.” He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers. “Go on.”

“My mom was a single mother at a time when it wasn’t all that hip to be one, you know? I mean, no one ever gave me a hard time about not having a dad around, and I had