Home At Last Chance (Last Chance #2)(30)
Author: Hope Ramsay

“Like wearing those boots and tight jeans.”

“Wait one minute. What was stupid about that? And where is the rule that says I can’t wear high-heel boots?”

“Those boots are not you, babe.”

“Don’t call me that. I tolerate ‘honey,’ but I am not a ‘babe.’ ”

“You’re right on that score.”

Fury, white and hot, slammed through her, and she reacted without thought. She lashed out, slapping him across the cheek with all her might. The sheer force of the attack stunned her. She had never hit anyone in her life, let alone a man who had just spent the better part of the last night being kind to her.

Sarah stared up at him, trying not to be shocked at herself as she watched a little red stain color his left cheek. Remorse immediately flooded her system, tempered by fear.

She braced herself for his fury, only it didn’t come. Instead, his lips twitched. She hadn’t hurt him. She had amused him.

All remorse evaporated.

“You have to stop now,” he whispered, leaning in closer to her, invading her space without even touching her. “You need to lose the high heels and the tawdry makeup and quit trying so hard. It’s no wonder Kenny got the wrong idea. You shouldn’t be messing around with jerks like Kenny.”

“What do you mean? Kenny is okay. He even has a mother in Ypsilanti that he’s devoted to.”

“Yeah, and he put bruises on you. Stay away from him, you hear?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Tulane, but it’s not your business. And besides, I’ll bet Kenny didn’t know the juice was spiked either. Kenny is usually a sober and serious sort of person. How was I supposed to know that a little alcohol would turn him into an a**hole?”

“Asshole?” Tulane said, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “When did you learn to say that word? I’m pretty sure I didn’t teach you that one.”

Sarah raised her hand to slap him again only he was faster this time, catching her wrist in a grip that was as overpowering as it was gentle. Unlike Kenny’s touch, Tulane’s wouldn’t leave a mark.

“Play nice,” he whispered. Then he did the unexpected, pulling her hand forward instead of pushing her back.

In the next instant, he pulled her right in to his chest, placing her hand on his shoulder, letting it go, and then cupping the back of her head as he pulled her up into the most erotic kiss she had ever experienced in her life.

Not that she had that much experience in the kissing department, but she was pretty certain Tulane Rhodes wrote the book on deep, sexy kisses.

His lips, so unbelievably warm and soft, closed over her mouth. His tongue glided over her sensitive flesh in little tight circles as he explored every nook and cranny of her mouth. He kissed like a virtuoso. He knew every move and just the right rhythm; he found places she didn’t even know existed, and he brought them completely to life.

The kiss tasted like Heaven itself, with hints of toothpaste and overtones of coffee, all overlaid with the taste of him. He tasted dark, and mysterious, and complex.

She pressed up on tiptoes, everything they had argued about forgotten in her surprise that he was even interested in doing something naughty like this. She slid her hand up into his short hair, the texture spiky against her palm as she rubbed it against its pattern of growth.

Tulane made a funny noise deep in his throat. He pressed himself against her hand at the same time that his own traveled all the way down her spine coming to rest on her bare, nak*d backside.

Liquid heat flooded her system.

He squeezed her butt cheeks, then cupped her bottom and pulled her right off the floor, forcing her to spread her legs and wrap them high around his hips. He fell back against the galley’s countertop and rocked his pelvis against her.

Reaction bubbled up her windpipe and exploded into a noise that was completely inarticulate and utterly necessary.

The man had rhythm in every part of his body—especially his tongue and his hips. She felt like a play toy, and Tulane had her key, winding up the mainspring inside her until it felt like it would surely burst.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, Tulane twisted his mouth away from hers and said one of the FCC’s seven forbidden words.

He loosened his grip on her backside and leaned forward, pressing her against the refrigerator and letting her front slide down his body until she was back on her feet. He placed a little chaste kiss on her temple, brushed the hair out of her face, and then tucked her head under his chin.

“I’m sorry about what just happened,” he murmured.

Of all the things he could have said, that had to be the most humiliating. She pushed against his chest, and he let her go, just like a gentleman should. She really needed to go now. Embarrassment flooded her.

“I’ve got to get dressed.” She tried to turn away from him toward the hallway, but he continued to block her passage.

“Sarah, look at me. I’m sorry about what just happened. I…” He strangled on the words.

She finally looked up at him. His dilated pupils made his eyes appear black. Two splotches of color stained his cheeks, while his ears had turned a flaming red. His heart was beating so hard that she could see the pulse pounding at the base of his neck.

Was he aroused? Or was he angry? She couldn’t tell.

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, and the longer she stared at him, the more aware she became of that low vibration jangling at her nerves.

“Uh,” she said, after a long moment, “I’m not upset about what you just did. But I’m mad as hell that you stopped.”

His mouth gave an ambiguous twitch. “I, uh…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Sarah, don’t you realize that you’re driving me crazy?”

“I am?” Hope blossomed inside her.

He opened his eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Then why did you stop? Did I do something wrong? Tell me, please, and be honest. I’m so tired of getting this wrong all the time.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. Not in that department, anyway. I just got… I just got carried away, is all. You and me, well, it’s just not a good idea, you know?”

Hope crashed and burned, right in the middle of her chest. “Yeah, I know. I’ve heard that line before, Tulane. That line explains why I’ve only had like three and a half bona fide sexual experiences. I know that’s pathetic for a woman my age, but there you have it. I have this talent for turning guys off. Guys are always telling me that getting involved would be a bad idea because I’m a nice girl who should be with some guy who wants a little house and a picket fence. You’re just the latest in a long line who’ve told me this.”

“Three and a half ? Honey, sex is not like horseshoes; either you score or you don’t.”

“Okay, then I must not have any talent for it. I’m not good at pool or poker or drinking rum punch either.”

“It takes practice to be good at pool and poker.”

“And what about the other? Doesn’t it take practice for that, too?”

“No. What are you talking about?”

“I tried to tell you about this problem that night at the river. I seem to have this impact on guys. Either I’m not fast enough for them, or I’m too fast for them, or I’m… I don’t know—a disaster is what I am. I clearly don’t know what I’m doing. And that’s the point. You can practice something all you want, but if you’re practicing the wrong thing, you never get any better at it. What I need is a coach.”

“A coach?” His voice sounded pinched.

She nodded. “A teacher. You know, someone I could trust, who wouldn’t laugh at me and who could show me what it is that I’m doing wrong. That’s why I suggested we spend the night at the Peach Blossom Hotel, or whatever. But you made it clear you weren’t interested.”

“You wanted me to be your sex coach? Honey, that’s just crazy. Sex is something that more or less comes natural, no pun intended. And, trust me on this, sex between you and me would be a huge mistake.”

“You’re probably right about you and me. But you’re wrong about the other. I hate to sound like a librarian, but it’s a medical fact that sexual response in human females is largely a learned behavior. Maybe for guys it’s different, but—”

She didn’t finish the sentence because Tulane backed her up against the refrigerator and kissed her right into silence. Goodness, the man knew how to kiss.

But the kiss seemed oddly restrained compared to what had happened a moment ago. It didn’t last long, but when he disengaged, it was accomplished with several little nibbles at her lower lip that made her want to cry out loud because they were so sweet.

“Honey, there isn’t one thing I can teach you about kissing.” His voice was husky.

She wanted to dispute that, because in her judgment he was the only man who had ever actually given her a chance to kiss back. “Tulane, I—”

He pressed his fingers against her lips. “It’s getting real late, and we both have jobs to do.”

“You’re turning me down again, aren’t you?”

“Honey, I am not going to be your sex coach. So you can put that right out of your mind. You are too good for that, you understand? And besides, I need to focus on my career, which isn’t going too well at the moment.” He leaned back, clearing the path to the bathroom.

That was it. Tulane and Kenny had combined to make her feel about as small as an ant. Her humiliation was utterly complete.

Chapter 14

Jim Ferguson had a reputation for having the patience of Job. But even Job reached his breaking point.

“I ought to send all three of you right to the unemployment line,” Jim said to Tulane, Sam Sterling, and Doc Jackson. The four of them sat in the team’s hauler, directly after qualifying, where the No. 57 Ford had managed to come in thirty-ninth out of a field of forty-three.

Sam and Doc started talking simultaneously. Tulane sat there studying the vinyl flooring, trying to figure out what, if anything, he should say.

He kept wondering what Pete might do in a situation like this, and there were a couple of things that seemed clear. Pete would protect Sarah, no matter what. His uncle wouldn’t make any excuses either. He’d man up and admit that he was wrong.

So Tulane winged a little prayer to the Almighty. He was going to try to behave like the grown-up that Pete and Stone always wanted him to be.

“Okay, who’s going to go first? Doc?” Jim’s voice sounded brittle with suppressed fury.

“We were just having a little fun, is all,” Doc said. Tulane looked up at his crew chief, suddenly aware that this was not the right way to start out this conversation.

“Uh, Jim—”

“Be quiet, Tulane. Let Doc tell it. You’ll get your turn.” Jim turned toward Doc. “You were just having some fun? You call sending Kenny to the hospital ‘fun’?” Jim’s face had gone red. The boss was not very happy, and Tulane didn’t blame him, right at the moment. The fight with Kenny had not been about having fun.