TOO HOT TO HANDLE
Maybe he was asleep and this was a dream. There was no way Gwen Day, the woman he’d wanted from the first moment he saw her, was here now, touching him . . . damn near everywhere. “Er . . . Gwen . . . babe, did you need something?”
“You could say that.” She pushed him back a few steps before shutting the door behind her. Just when he thought this encounter couldn’t get much weirder—or hotter—she leaned down, grabbed the hem of the slinky black dress she was wearing and pulled it over her head. Then she stood before him in nothing but a black lace bra, tiny matching panties, and black strappy sandals. He was completely and totally screwed.
Also by Sydney Landon
The Danvers Novels
Weekends Required
Not Planning on You
Fall for Me
Fighting for You
No Denying You
Always Loving You
Betting on You (Penguin digital special)
SIGNET ECLIPSE
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014
USA|Canada|UK|Ireland|Australia|New Zealand|India|South Africa|China
penguin.com
A Penguin Random House Company
First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC
First Printing, September 2015
Copyright © Sydney Landon, 2015
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.
ISBN 978-0-698-19849-4
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
Contents
Also by Sydney Landon
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Special Excerpt from The One For Me
About the Author
As always, to my amazing husband, Tim. Our love and a sense of humor have gotten us far. I love you!
To my parents, John and Geneva Foster. Thanks for always encouraging us to reach for our dreams, no matter how far-fetched they might have sounded at the time.
Chapter One
“Well, this officially goes down as my crappiest birthday ever. Hands down,” Gwen Day moaned. She looked up to meet the sympathetic eyes of her friends, Mia Gentry and Crystal Webber. “I’m finished with men. I mean, what do you even need them for anymore?”
Crystal, who was newly divorced, nodded her head in agreement. “You got that right, girl. I have a vibrator that’s always hard, doesn’t talk back or leave the toilet seat up, or dribble toothpaste in the bathroom sink. I’ve come more in the last six months with my plastic boyfriend than all of my combined years with my ex. If I’d had one of those suckers when I was twenty, I’d have never gotten married.”
Beside Crystal, Mia gave them a sheepish look. “Um . . . well . . . I like my man just fine and trust me . . . he’s always hard whenever I want it.”
“You suck,” Crystal grumbled. “The rest of us don’t have a perfectly wonderful, hottie boyfriend like Seth Jackson. You could at least share him, you know. Have you two considered broadening your horizons with a threesome? Because I’d totally be up for it.” Wiggling her brows, she added, “I seem to remember you mentioning a certain threesome fantasy featuring Suzy Merimon and her hubby, Gray.”
The conversation between her close friends had distracted Gwen momentarily from her pity party but she soon returned to brooding. She had no interest in her vibrator, although she agreed with Crystal that men were completely overrated. She had thought all of that was changing for her when she met McKinley Powers. His company handled the security for Danvers International, where she worked. He was drop-dead handsome with his short military haircut that he still favored even after leaving the Marines, not to mention his rock-hard body that never failed to make her heart race and knees tremble. The fact that he was a genuinely nice guy was an added bonus.
When they had first started dating, Mac had been more than content with her “taking things slow” request, which maybe should have been her first red flag. After they’d been going out for a month, he still hadn’t put any type of pressure on her to move beyond kissing. By the end of the next month, she was horny and frustrated. It had seemed like he was the one now wanting to take it slow when she was ready to rip the clothes from his buff body.
They had engaged in some make-out sessions that never progressed past second base. He always pulled back when he got too close to third base, and dammit . . . crossing home plate had become just a distant dream.
Gwen knew all of the books said never to let a man determine your self-worth, but she had been really struggling with that one after Mac’s silent refusal to have sex with her. Until she finally put all of the pieces together and figured out that it might not be who she was that was the problem, but more important, who she wasn’t—Ava Stone.
Mac was good friends with the Stone siblings, who also worked for Danvers. There was Declan, who had served with Mac in the military; Brant, who was Declan’s older brother; and then there was Ava. She was an attractive blonde Gwen had seen around the office on several different occasions. She had come to understand that there was possibly something more than friendship between Mac and Ava when she witnessed Mac completely losing it because his coworker and good friend, Dominic Brady, had given Ava a ride on his Harley. Mac had been so upset that warning bells had gone off in Gwen’s head.
From that point on, her relationship with Mac was on borrowed time and she knew it. He had become more distant than ever. He forgot to call her, didn’t return her calls, and was just generally unavailable, physically and emotionally.
So, one evening she had gone to his house to talk and just to spend some time with him, and he’d taken off almost immediately after receiving a call concerning Ava. Gwen had decided to wait it out and see if he came back home. When he finally did, hours later, they had ended it. There was no fight, no ugly words, or insults. It was very civilized. Gwen might not be happy with Mac for dating her while he was hung up on Ava, but he had been honest with her in the end and she knew that it had really upset him to hurt her.
Her self-esteem had been limping along since that evening—until Mia had dropped her bombshell this morning. Mia had heard from her friend Suzy that Mac and Ava had gotten married over the weekend in Las Vegas. Gwen definitely hadn’t been expecting that blow. She had figured she would be tortured for a while seeing them
as a couple around the office. She had never expected Mac to break up with her and then almost immediately tie the knot. God, was she now the woman men dated right before they found “the one”?
She had been so lost in thought that she almost jumped from her seat when Mia’s hand landed on her arm, shaking it excitedly. “I know—let’s have a girls’ night tonight! Seth’s leaving this afternoon on business for a few days so I’d love to go out. How about you, Crystal?”
Gwen was secretly hoping that the other woman would veto the whole thing because she wasn’t really in the mood to socialize. She just wanted to go home, eat herself into oblivion, and watch some man-hating movies on Lifetime. Of course, she’d probably run right into Dominic at the apartment complex where they both lived. Geez, she needed to move now. Wasn’t it just her luck to live doors away from Mac’s friend? Dominic was already so annoying . . . okay hot—completely, smoking hot—but still annoying.
It was no one’s business if she peeked through her blinds every time she heard his boots in the hallway. Yes, dear Lord, she had to admit to herself that she could distinguish the sound of his tread from the rest of her neighbors. He just looked so good in his cargo pants and those tight shirts. And some evenings she was even lucky enough to catch him in all of his masculine glory after returning from a run. Shirtless . . . and wearing those low hanging shorts he favored. She loved the sight of his hard body with those rippling muscles, glistening sweat, the tattoos, the . . . “Hmmm?” Gwen looked around to see both Mia and Crystal staring at her.
Crystal smirked. “Honey, where was your head at? You just moaned and your eyes went crossed.”
“And you have some drool on your chin,” Mia pointed out helpfully.
Gwen felt her face flush as she quickly ran a hand across her mouth. Darn it, there was drool there. Freaking Dominic Brady! “I . . . er . . . was just thinking about dinner.”
“Yeah, sure.” Crystal grinned. “Whatever you say. So anyway, how about drinks at Hawks tonight?”
Mia rubbed her hands together. “Ohhh, going the sports bar route, I like it. Seth would hate it, so it sounds perfect to me.”
Gwen found herself agreeing. Surely an evening out with her friends was better than sulking at home. After all, her ass was big enough and adding another pint of ice cream to it wasn’t going to help things any. Tonight she would have fun and forget all about Mac—and Dominic. How hard could that be?
* * *
Dominic Brady sprawled back on his sofa with a big sigh of contentment. Jet lag was a real kick in the ass. Maybe he was just getting old, but flying to Vegas and back in less than forty-eight hours was not something that he cared to do often. When he was in the Marines, he and his friends had lived for quick trips like that. They’d get a few days off and make the most of it. Sin City was a frequent destination back then. Now, just being home in his apartment in Myrtle Beach was much closer to heaven than the bright lights and the scantily clad women on the strip. Yeah, hell, only thirty-three and he officially sounded old.
The trip this weekend had been for a good cause, though. One of his best friends had gotten married to the woman he’d loved all of his life. It had been a long, rocky, and uncertain road for them, but Mac and Ava had finally worked it out and Dominic couldn’t have been any happier for them. He and Mac, along with Gage Hyatt, owned a company together called East Coast Security. They monitored and provided security for many high-end companies, including Danvers International, which housed their headquarters.
For Dominic, the job and the location fit him perfectly. His family lived in Georgia, so he was close enough to visit when he wanted and far enough away to keep his nosy mother and sister out of his business. He loved them dearly, but they had been trying to find him the “right woman,” since he was potty trained. If he still lived closer to home, they’d be herding single women past him like an assembly line. The fact that his sister had married her high school sweetheart and promptly popped out two kids put only that much more pressure on him.
He had just started on his second Corona and was watching SportsCenter when he heard a sound at his door. It was more like someone moving against the frame than knocking. Biting off a curse, he reluctantly put his beer down on the coffee table and went to check. It was likely no one coming to visit him. His neighbor at the end of the hall liked to party, and even though he always tried to keep the noise down, occasionally there were a few lost strays in the hallway.
Dominic checked the peephole, then pulled back in surprise. This was a new one. He could make out the crown of someone’s head and that was about it. He stood there for a few moments, hoping that the person would just move on. When he heard nothing but silence, he came to the resigned conclusion that he was either going to have to leave them there all night or open the door and encourage them to move on.
Swinging the door open suddenly might not have been the best idea, Dominic concluded, when a soft body landed against his. He heard a feminine giggle, then a “whoops!” He froze in place when hands started roaming his chest and then his torso. “Mmmm, you are sooo hard. . . . I knew you would be.”
What the hell? Just as he registered that what he thought was brown hair through the peephole was actually dark red, his interloper looked up, and he gasped in shock. “Gwen?”
“Dominic,” she purred back, blinking at him with wide eyes like an owl. Her hands continued to roam and he didn’t know whether to be thrilled or sorry that he was wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. Her hands on his bare skin were having a direct effect on his cock and the silky material wasn’t doing much to contain it. On the other hand . . . it felt good . . . no, amazing.
Maybe he was asleep and this was a dream. There was no way Gwen Day, the woman he’d wanted from the first moment he saw her, was here now, touching him . . . damn near everywhere. “Er . . . Gwen . . . babe, did you need something?” He almost groaned aloud when her hand dropped to cover the bulge in his shorts.
“You could say that,” she moaned as she pushed him back a few steps before shutting the door behind her. Just when he thought this encounter couldn’t get much weirder—or hotter—she leaned down, grabbed the hem of the slinky black dress she was wearing and pulled it over her head in a move that would make a stripper proud. Then she stood before him in nothing but a black lace bra, tiny matching panties, and black strappy sandals. He was completely and totally screwed.
Still trying to be the voice of reason for some crazy reason, Dominic held out a calming hand, saying, “Babe, what’re we doing here? I mean . . . God, you’re gorgeous!” All right, maybe that last line had slipped out before he could stop himself, but holy hell, how was he supposed to stay calm when Gwen was standing in front of him, practically naked, with a come-hither look in her eyes that was making him pant like a dog in heat?
She began to prowl forward and he walked uncertainly backward—which he figured out was a big mistake when he tripped over his coffee table and landed in a heap on the sofa. “Oh goody,” she rubbed her hands together as she stopped a few inches from where he had landed. “It looks like we’re both on the same page.” Then . . . she dropped down to straddle his waist, and it was all over for him. When she grinned before pulling a strip of condoms out of her bra, he almost professed his love on the spot. Who was this woman? She certainly looked like his beautiful neighbor, but that was where the similarities ended.
He’d caught her checking him out on more than one occasion, and yes, in his fantasies, he had wanted to believe that she desired him as he did her. But she’d never given him any outward reason to believe that was true. He had certainly never imagined her showing up on his doorstep like a wet dream. So he forced himself to ask one last time, “Are you sure about this?” In answer, she ground herself against him before licking his neck. Well . . . that meant yes in his book.
He put his hands on what he had come to think of as the Holy Grail . . . her ass. It was firm, round, and drove him to distraction. Dominic had never been one
to desire a skinny woman. He loved soft, lush curves and to him, Gwen had the perfect body. His only problem was deciding where he wanted to lavish his attention first. “I need you inside of me,” Gwen murmured as she bit his ear. As if to prove that point, she plastered her body against his chest, freeing his hips, before saying urgently, “Shorts off, condom on.”
Dominic had always been something of an alpha male so this role change was not only different for him, but it was also surprisingly sexy as hell. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this uncoordinated as he did his best to push his shorts down and then fumble to put the condom on his throbbing erection without causing it to blow early. At this point, he was hanging on to his composure by a mere thread.
After what was probably seconds but felt like hours, he was sheathed and past ready to feel her around him. “All right, baby, let me take care of you.”
“Yes . . . God, yes,” she breathed throatily. “I need to take my panties . . .” Refusing to let her up, he ripped one side of her flimsy excuse for panties and then the other. She lifted her hips slightly and he pulled the fabric free, sending it sailing somewhere nearby. He ran a finger through her cleft, finding it wet and swollen. “Dom . . . I’m ready, now please!”
Putting a supporting hand under her ass, he raised her body before bringing her down onto his waiting shaft. He held himself still as she cried out, afraid that he’d hurt her by going too fast. “Okay, baby?” he asked as he stroked her hip soothingly.
Gwen rose to her knees, so that he almost slid out of her wet heat before she bottomed out on him once again. “Harder, Dom!” Her demands broke what little control he had left. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close enough to devour her lips, while pumping his hips at a ruthless pace into her tight passage.
Soon, they were nothing but a tangle of shifting limbs, grinding bodies. Dominic bit, sucked, and licked every available inch of her skin, and it drove him to distraction when she did the same. He’d never really thought he would enjoy having his own nipples nipped, but damned if it wasn’t off-the-charts hot. He wanted to make it last for hours, but all too soon, he felt the familiar tingle at the base of his spine. When Gwen started to spasm around him, he was helpless to hold back any longer. But his orgasm seemed to go on forever as black dots danced through his vision.