Tempted By Mr Off-Limits

Lola had no doubt Hamish would be up for it. He’d been flirting with her from the beginning and he’d certainly been all in when she’d kissed him on the balcony. The message in his eyes when she’d pulled away had been loud and clear.

If you want to take this to the bedroom, I’m your guy.

And if he hadn’t been Grace’s brother, she would have followed through. And not just because she needed the distraction but because there was something about Hamish Gibson that tugged at her. She’d felt it on the bridge this morning and at the bar.

It was no doubt to do with his empathy, with his innate understanding of what she’d witnessed tonight. She didn’t usually go for men who came from her world, particularly in these situations. Someone outside it—who didn’t know or care what she’d been through—was usually a much better distraction.

Someone who only cared about getting her naked.

Who knew familiarity and empathy could be so damn sexy? Who knew they could stroke right between your legs as well as clutch at your heart?

Lola rolled on her side and stuffed her hands between her thighs to quell the heat and annoying buzz of desire. Wasn’t going to happen. Hamish was Grace’s brother. And she couldn’t go there. No matter how much she needed the distraction. No matter how well he kissed. No matter the fire licking through her veins and roaring at the juncture of her legs.

Lola shut her eyes—tight.

Go to sleep, damn it.

* * *

At two o’clock in the morning, Lola gave up trying to fight it. Grace wasn’t here—she’d texted an hour ago to say she was staying at Marcus’s—and Hamish would be gone in the morning.

What could it hurt? As long as he knew it was a one-off?

Decision made, she kicked off the sheet and stood. She paused as she contemplated her attire, her underwear and a tank top. Should she dress in something else? Slip on one of her satiny scraps of lingerie that covered more but left absolutely nothing to the imagination? She’d been surprised to learn over the years that some guys preferred subtlety.

Or should she go out there buck naked?

What kind of guy was Hamish—satin and lace or bare flesh?

Oh, bloody hell. What was wrong with her? Had she lost her freaking mind? Hamish was probably just going to be grateful for her giving it up for him at two in the morning and smart enough to take it any way it was offered. She was going to be naked soon enough anyway.

Just get out there, Lola!

Quickly snatching a condom out of the box in her bedside drawer, she headed for her door, opened it and tiptoed down the darkened hallway. Ambient light from a variety of electrical appliances cast a faint glow into the living room and she could make out a large form on the couch. She came closer, stepping around the coffee table to avoid a collision with her shins, and the form became more defined.

He’d kicked off the sheet, which meant Lola could see a lot of bare skin—abs, legs, chest—and she looked her fill. A pair of black boxer briefs stopped her from seeing everything and his face was hidden by one bare arm thrown up over it. The roundness of his biceps as it pushed against his jaw was distracting as all giddy up.

As was the long stretch of his neck.

It was tempting to do something really crazy like run her fingers along that exposed, whiskery skin. Possibly her tongue.

But she needed to wake him first. She couldn’t just jump on him, no matter how temptingly he was lying there.

Lola clenched her fists, the sharp foil edges of the condom cutting into her palm as she took a step towards him. Her foot landed on the only squeaky floorboard in the entire room and he was awake in an instant. She froze as his abs tensed and his body furled upwards, his legs swinging over the edge of the couch. His feet had found the floor before she had a chance to take another breath.

He blinked up at her, running his palms absently up and down the length of his bare thighs. ‘Lola?’

Lola let out a shaky breath as she took a step back. ‘I guess it’s true what they say about country guys, then.’

‘Hung like horses?’ He shot her a sleepy smile. His voice was low and rumbly but alert.

She laughed and it was loud in the night. ‘Light sleepers.’

‘Oh, that.’ He rubbed his palm along his jawline and the scratchy noise went straight to her belly button. ‘Are you okay?’

Lola shook her head, her heart suddenly racing as she contemplated the width of his shoulders and the proposition she was about to lay on him. ‘I...can’t sleep.’

‘So you came out for...a cup of warm milk?’

The smile on his face matched the one in his voice, all playful and teasing, and Lola blushed. Her cheeks actually heated! What the hell?

Since when did she start blushing?

Most nurses she knew, including herself, were generally immune to embarrassment. She’d seen far too much stuff in her job to be embarrassed by anything.

‘No.’ She held up the condom, her fingers trembling slightly, grateful for the cover of night. ‘I was thinking of something more...physical.’

His gaze slid to the condom and Lola’s belly clenched as he contemplated the foil packet like it was the best damn thing he’d seen all night. ‘I have read,’ he said after a beat or two, refocusing on her face, ‘that physical activity is very good for promoting sleep.’

Lola’s nipples puckered at the slight emphasis on ‘physical activity’ and she swallowed against a mouth suddenly dry as the couch fabric. ‘Yeah.’ She smiled. ‘I read that too.’

He held out his hand. ‘Come here.’

Lola’s heart leapt in her chest but she ground her feet into the floor. They had to establish some ground rules. ‘This can only be a one-time thing.’

‘I know.’

His assurance grazed Lola’s body like a physical force, rubbing against all the good spots, but she needed to make certain he was absolutely on the same page. ‘You’re leaving tomorrow,’ she continued. ‘We’ll probably never see each other again.’ This was the first time she’d met Hamish after all, despite having lived with Grace for almost all the last two years. ‘And I’m good with that.’

‘Me too.’

‘I don’t do relationships. Especially not long-distance relationships.’

He nodded again. ‘I understand. We’re one and done. I am good with it, Lola.’

‘Also... I don’t think we should tell Grace about this.’

He sat back a little, clearly startled at the suggestion, looking slightly askance. ‘Do I look like I took a stupid pill to you?’

Lola laughed. He looked like he’d taken an up-for-it pill and heat wound through her abdomen. Hamish leaned forward at the hips and crooked his finger, a small smile playing on his wicked mouth.

‘Come here, Lola.’

The way he said her name when he was mostly naked was like fingers stroking down her belly. Lola took a small step forward, her entire body trembling with anticipation. She took another and then she was standing in front of him, the outsides of her thighs just skimming the insides of his knees.

He held his hand out and she placed the condom in his palm. He promptly shoved it under a cushion before sliding his hands onto the sides of her thighs. Lola’s breath hitched as they slid all the way up and the muscles in her stomach jumped as they slid under the hem of her T-shirt, pushing it up a little.

Leaning closer, he brushed his mouth against the bare skin, his lips touching down just under her belly button. Lola’s mouth parted on a soft gasp and her hands found his shoulders as their gazes locked. One hand kept travelling, pushing into the thick wavy locks of his hair, holding him there as they stared at each other, their breathing low and rough.

Then he fell back against the couch, pulling her with him, urging her legs apart so she was straddling him, the heat and pulse at her heart settling over the heat and hardness of him.

His hands slid into her hair, pulling her head down, his mouth seeking hers.

Her pulse thundered through her ears and throbbed between her legs and she moaned as their lips met. She couldn’t have stopped it even had she wanted to.

And she didn’t.

He swallowed it up, his mouth opening over hers, a faint trace of his toothpaste a cool undercurrent to all the heat. He kissed her slow but deep, wet and thorough, and Lola’s entire body tingled and yearned as she clutched at his shoulders from her dominant position, moaning and gasping against his mouth.

He was all she could think about. His mouth and his heat and the hardness between his legs. No work, no death, no stricken children, no disbelieving wives. Just Hamish, good and hard and hot and hers, filling her senses and her palms and the space between her thighs.

Lola barely registered falling or the softness of landing as his hands guided her backwards. But she did register the long naked stretch of him against her. The way his hips settled into the cradle of her pelvis, the way his erection notched along the seam of her sex, the way his body pressed her hard and good into the cushions.

He was dominating her now and she loved it. Wanted more. Needed more. His skin sliding over hers. His body sliding into hers. It was as if he could read her mind. His hands pushing her shirt up, gliding over her stomach and ribs and breasts, pulling it off over her head before returning to her breasts, squeezing and kneading, pinching her nipples, his mouth coming back hard and hot on hers, kissing and kissing and kissing until she was dizzy with the magic of his mouth, clawing at his back and gasping her pleasure.

He kissed down her neck and traced the lines of her collar bones with the tip of his tongue before lapping it over her sternum and circling her nipples, sucking each one into his mouth making her cry out, making her mutter, ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ in some kind of incoherent jumble. And he kept doing it, licking and sucking as his hands pushed at her underwear and hers pushed at his until they were both free of barriers.

He broke away, tearing the foil open and rolling the condom on, then he was back and she almost lost her breath at the thickness of his erection sliding between her legs. He was big and hard, gliding through her slickness, finding her entrance and settling briefly.

‘You feel so good,’ he muttered, before easing inside her, slowly at first then pushing home on a groan that stirred the cells in her marrow and lit the wick on her arousal.

She flared like a torch in the night, insane with wanting him, wanting him more than she’d ever wanted anybody before, panting her need straight into his ear, ‘God yes, like that,’ revelling in the thickness of him, the way he stretched her, the way he filled her. ‘Just like that...’

And he gave it to her like that and more, rocking and pounding, kissing her again, swallowing her moans and her cries and her pants, smothering them with his own as he thrust in and pulled out, a slow steady stroke, the rhythm of his hips setting the rhythm in her blood and the sizzle in her cells. Electricity buzzed from the base of her spine to the arch of her neck.

Her mind was blank of everything but the heat and the thrust and the feel of him. The prison of his strong, rounded biceps either side of her and the broad, naked cage of his chest pinning her to the couch and the piston of his hard, narrow hips nailing her into the cushions. And the smell of him, hot and male and aroused, filling up her head, making her nostrils flare with the wild mix of toothpaste and testosterone.

Lola gasped, tearing her mouth from his as her orgasm burst around her, starting in her toes, curling them tight before rolling north, undulating through her calves and her knees and her thighs, exploding between her legs and imploding inside her belly, breaking over her in waves of ever-increasing intensity until all she could do was hold on and cry out ‘Hamish!’ as it took her.

‘I know.’ He panted into her neck, his breathing hot and heavy, his body trembling like hers. ‘I know.’ He reared above her, thrusting hard one last time, his back bowed, his fists ground into the cushions either side of her head. ‘Lola-a-a-a...’

He came hard, his release bellowing out of him as his hips took over again and he rocked and rocked and rocked her, pushing her orgasm higher and higher and higher, taking her with him all the way to top until they were both spent, panting and clinging and falling back to earth in a messy heap of limbs and satisfaction.

Lola hadn’t even realised she’d drifted off to sleep when Hamish moved away and she muttered something in protest. He hushed her as she drifted again. Somewhere in the drunken quagmire of her brain she thought she should get up and leave, but it was nice here in the afterglow.

Too nice to move.

Hell, a normal woman would have dragged him back to her bed. It was bigger with a lot more potential for further nocturnal activity of the carnal kind. But then he was back and he was shuffling in behind her, his heavy arm dragging her close as he spooned her and she could barely open her eyes let alone co-ordinate her brain and limbs to make a move.

She was finally in a place where there was nothing on her mind and she liked it there.

She liked it very, very much.

CHAPTER THREE

Three months later...

HAMISH WASN’T SURE how he was going to be greeted by Lola as he stood in front of her door. Sure, they’d spoken in the last few weeks since Grace had arranged for him to live with Lola for the next two months while he did his urban intensive care rotation, but they hadn’t seen each other since that night.

And he still wasn’t sure this was the wisest idea.

He’d assured Lola that he could find somewhere else. Had stressed that she shouldn’t let Grace steamroller her into sharing her home with him because his sister felt guilty about her snap decision to finally move in with Marcus. It was true, someone paying the rent for the next eight weeks would give Lola time and breathing space to find the right roomie rather than just a roomie, but Grace wasn’t aware of their history.

Unless Lola had told Grace. But he didn’t think his sister would be so keen on this proposed temporary arrangement if that had been the case. Neither did he think for a single second that he wouldn’t have heard from her about it if she did know.

Lola had assured him she hadn’t felt backed into a corner and it made perfect sense for him to live with her temporarily. It would help her out and their apartment was conveniently located for him.

Perfect sense.

Except for their chemistry. And for the number of times he’d thought about her these past three months. He’d told her it had been unforgettable and that had proved to be frustratingly true. How often had he thought about ringing her? Or sending her flirty texts? Not to mention how often he’d dreamed about her.

About what they’d done. And the things he still wanted to do.

Things that woke him in the middle of the night with her scent in his nostrils and a raging erection that never seemed satisfied with his hand. He shut his eyes against the movie reel of images.

Just roomies.

That’s what she’d insisted on when they’d spoken about the possibility of this. Insisted that what had happened between them was in the past and they weren’t going to speak of it again. They definitely weren’t going to act on it again.

Just roomies. That was the deal-breaker, she’d said.

And he’d agreed. After all, it hadn’t seemed too difficult over a thousand kilometres away. But standing in front of her door like this, the reality of her looming, was an entirely different prospect. He felt like a nervous teenager, which was utterly idiotic.

Where was the country guy who could rope a cow, ride a horse, mend a fence and fix just about any engine? Where was the paramedic who could do CPR for an hour, stabilise a trauma victim in the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain, smash a window or rip off a door and insert an IV practically hanging upside down like a bat in the shell of car crashed halfway down a mountain?

That’s who he was. So he could share a home, in a purely platonic way, with a woman he was hot for.

Because he was a grown man, damn it!

Hamish knocked quickly before he stood any longer staring at the door like he’d lost his mind. His hand shook and his pulse spiked as the sound of her footsteps drew nearer.

The door opened abruptly and Lola stood there in her uniform. He wondered absently if she was going to or coming from work as his body registered more basic details. Like her gorgeous green eyes and the blonde curls pulled back into a loose plait at her nape, just as it had been that night at Billi’s.

Suddenly he was back there again, remembering how much she’d touched him that night. Emotionally. How much he’d wanted to comfort her. To ease the burden so clearly weighing heavily on her shoulders.

To make her smile.

She smiled at him now and he blinked and came back to the present. It was the kind of smile she’d given him when she’d first met him on the harbour bridge that morning—friendly and open. The kind of smile reserved for a best friend’s brother or a new roomie. Like they were buddies. Mates.

Like he’d never been inside her body.

She’d obviously put what had happened between them behind her. Way, way behind her.

‘Hey, you.’ She leaned forward, rising on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.

Like a sister.

It was such an exaggeratedly platonic kiss but his body tensed in recognition anyway. She was soft and warm and smelled exactly like he remembered, and he fought the urge to turn his head and kiss her properly.

She pulled back and smiled another friendly smile and he forced himself to relax. Forced himself to lounge lazily in the doorway and pretend he didn’t want to be inside her again. Right now. Because he really, really did.

This is what you agreed to, dumbass.

‘That all you got?’ She tipped her chin at his battered-looking duffel bag.

Hamish glanced down, pleased to have some other direction to look. ‘Should I have more?’ She didn’t seem impressed by his ninja packing skills.

She tutted and shook her head. ‘After two months in the city you’ll need that for your skin products alone.’

Laughter danced in her eyes and Hamish was impressed with her ability to act like nothing had happened between them while he felt stripped bare. Lola Fraser was as cool as a cucumber.

‘I’ll have you all metrosexual before you know it.’

Hamish laughed. Was that what she liked in a man? A guy who spent more time in front of the mirror than she did? Who used skin care products and waxed places that he wouldn’t let hot wax anywhere near? ‘Thanks. I’m happy with the way I am.’

And so were you. He suppressed the urge to give voice to the thought. He wasn’t naive enough to think he’d been anything other than a port in a storm for Lola. A convenient distraction. He’d known full well what he’d been agreeing to that night.

Hell, he’d been more than happy to be used.

‘Ah I see. You can take the boy out of the country—’

‘But not the country out of the boy.’ He laughed again as he finished the saying.

She grinned and said, ‘We’ll see,’ then stood aside. ‘Come on in.’

Hamish picked up his duffel bag and followed her inside. Lola gave him a quick tour even though he was familiar with the layout from that night three months ago and nothing appeared to have changed.

The couch was definitely the same. He had no idea how he was going to sit on it with her without some seriously sexy flashbacks.

‘And this is Grace’s room.’ Lola walked past a shut door on the opposite side of the short hallway, which Hamish assumed was Lola’s room. ‘She moved out a couple of days ago.’

Hamish hadn’t been in his sister’s bedroom when he’d last been here. He hadn’t been in Lola’s either. Not that that had stopped them...

‘Make yourself at home.’ She swept her arm around to indicate the space. ‘It’s a good size with big built-in cupboards and several power points if you want a TV or something in here.’

Hamish looked around. Grace had left her bed for him and the bedside tables. Everything was ruthlessly clean as per his sister’s ways. They could have taken an appendix out on the stripped mattress. Although now they were both in the room together with a massive bed dominating the space, other things they could do on the mattress came to mind.

Lola was staring at it too as if she was just realising the level of temptation it represented. ‘There are sheets, pillows, blankets, etcetera in the linen cupboard in the hallway.’

‘Thanks.’ Hamish threw his bag on the bed to fill up the acres of space staring back at them. And to stop himself from throwing her on it instead.

The action seemed to snap Lola out of her fixation. ‘And that’s it.’ She turned. ‘Tour over.’

Once again Hamish followed her down the hallway and into the kitchen, where she grabbed her bag and keys off the counter top. ‘I’m sorry, I have to run now or I’ll be late for work. I couldn’t swap the shift.’

She didn’t sound that sorry. In fact, she was jingling the keys like she couldn’t wait to get out of there.

‘It’s fine.’

A part of him had assumed she’d be home this weekend to help him get settled. Which was ridiculous. He was a thirty-year-old man living in one of the world’s most exciting cities—he didn’t need to have his hand held.

And Lola was a shift worker, just like him. With bills to pay and a twenty-four-hour roster she helped to fill, including Saturdays. She had her own life that didn’t involve pandering to her friend’s brother.

‘I’m sure I can occupy myself. What time do you finish?’

She fished in her bag and pulled out her sunglasses, opening the arms and perching them on the top of her head. ‘I’m on till nine-thirty tonight. I should be home by ten, providing everything is calm at work.’

‘Cool.’

‘Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. There’s a supermarket three blocks away, if you’re looking for something in particular. Grace and I usually shopped together and split the bill but we can discuss those details tomorrow.’

Hamish nodded. ‘I’m having dinner with Grace and Marcus tonight actually. At their new apartment. So we’ll probably be getting in around the same time.’

‘Oh...right.’ She glanced away and Hamish wondered if she was remembering the last time they’d been here together at night. She had some colour in her cheeks when her gaze met his again. ‘Don’t feel like you have to be home for me. If you want to have a few drinks and end up crashing at theirs, that’s fine. I’m often here by myself, it doesn’t bother me.’

Hamish didn’t think anything much bothered Lola. There was a streak of independence about her that grabbed him by his country-boy balls. But he knew that under all that Independent Woman of the World crust was someone who could break like a little girl and he really hoped she didn’t feel the need to pretend to be tough all the time to compensate for how vulnerable she’d been the last time they’d met.

That would be an exhausting eight weeks for her.

And he just wanted Lola to be Lola. He could handle whatever she threw at him.

‘And miss my first night in my new home?’ He smiled at her to keep it light. ‘No way.’

‘Okay, well...’ She nodded. ‘I’ll...see you later.’

She turned and walked away, choosing the longer route rather than brush past him—interesting—and within seconds he was listening to the quiet click of the front door as it shut.