“You want me to use my belt on you, spank that sexy ass of yours, darlin’? Or maybe you want me to tie your hands with it while I bend you over my bed and take you from behind.”
She shook her head but didn’t bother to back that lie up with a verbal denial. Instead, her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. It felt like an invitation to kiss her, but he didn’t take her up on it. Not when he was learning so much.
“What other secrets do you know?” he asked.
Adele’s gaze lowered, her lips pressed closed tightly.
“Tell me,” he murmured. It was obvious she’d heard something, but she was hesitant to say it aloud. It piqued his curiosity.
“Nothing else,” she blurted out, too quickly, too loudly.
He sighed, disappointed. He was damn sure whatever she was refusing to say was the one thing she wanted to most. Then he figured out exactly how to get what he wanted. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
Adele’s bright blue eyes narrowed. If there was one thing the Sparks women couldn’t resist, it was a dare.
“Fine. According to Grace Armstrong, you have a magic tongue. And Jackie Roberson called you the Energizer Bunny.”
He laughed, his response seeming to annoy Adele.
“Magic tongue, huh?” he repeated. “Not going to pretend I don’t like how I’m coming out in these stories. Sound like a stud, don’t I?” he teased.
She huffed indignantly and for a second, he thought he saw something that looked a little bit like jealousy. He liked it.
“You’re a manwhore,” she said, turning away from him.
He grabbed her hand, tugging her back toward him, forcing her to face him once again. “No. I’m not. I’m a forty-two-year-old man with a healthy sexual appetite. I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears choir boy, and I’m not about to apologize for my past.”
“I’m not asking you to—”
Porter didn’t give her a chance to finish because, while Adele wasn’t ready to admit where this thing between the two of them was going, he knew exactly where they were headed, and he didn’t want his reputation standing in the way of that.
“I’ve taken my fair share of women to bed, Addie, but I was always a gentleman. I’ve treated my lovers with respect and—unlike a few of the ladies—I’ve never told tales. My sex life is just that—mine—and it’s private.”
“Okay,” she started again. “I didn’t mean to insin—”
Once more, he cut her off. “What you and I do together…that’s gonna be private too. Just between us. And believe me, darlin’, you’re getting it all. The belt, the rope, the tongue, and the bunny.”
Her mouth fell open for a second before she managed to find her words. “You…you and I…we’re…not…”
“Of course we are,” he corrected.
Adele didn’t bother to finish her denial.
He dropped her hand and placed his arm around her back so he could tuck her closer, then turned them in the direction of her house again. It was downright chilly tonight, and he started to think Adele’s wish for snow on Christmas might not be that farfetched after all.
Adele didn’t resist his hold, so he tightened it, drawing her up against him even more. He’d spent too many fucking nights the past few months, thinking about just how perfect Miss Adele Sparks fit in his arms.
He’d asked her to take a spin with him at a barn dance last spring, simply because Coop wanted to dance with Macie, which would leave Adele sitting alone. He’d also learned through Adele’s father TJ shortly after Christmas that Adele’s long-term boyfriend had packed up and moved to St. Louis, so he knew he wasn’t poaching on someone else’s girl.
Porter had danced with hundreds of women in his lifetime, but there’d been something different about Adele. Something he hadn’t been able to put his finger on.
Not immediately anyway.
Mainly because he hadn’t bothered to think on the reason, too surprised to realize he was actually attracted to the lively, energetic woman. If he’d been asked to describe his type of woman a year ago, he definitely would have said the opposite of the Sparks sisters. He’d always thought himself partial to quieter, calmer, gentler women.
Coop’s first wife, Sharon, sprang to mind. While he and Coop had known each other all their lives and he considered the man his brother, he’d been just as close—if not closer—to Sharon. She’d been his confidante, the one person he was comfortable talking to about his feelings and shit like that. She’d never judged him for his sexual exploits—he really had been a bit of a horn dog in his twenties and early thirties—and she’d never pressured him to find “the one” and settle down—acting like choosing a bachelor lifestyle was some sort of genetic flaw—like so many other well-meaning friends.
He’d loved Sharon, and her death had left a big hole in his heart. One he figured he’d never fill. Until he’d grabbed Adele’s hand and pulled her to the dance floor. They hadn’t spoken a single word during the dance, but damn if it didn’t feel like they’d talked for hours by the time the song ended.
Porter had chalked it all up to a fluke, started teasingly calling her Addie, getting a kick out of her sudden moodiness—because it let him know she hadn’t been unaffected by the dance, either—and he’d gone on with his life.
Until Macie and Coop’s wedding in Vegas. They’d gone out to dinner at a fancy restaurant to celebrate the nuptials. Porter had grabbed her hand for a second dance, claiming it was his duty as best man to dance with the maid of honor.
That was when he realized whatever it was between him and Adele was no fluke. His body responded to hers with a force that shook him to his core. It was almost as if their bodies recognized each other, knew something that neither one of them had figured out yet.
A couple weeks after that, he’d danced with her again at another wedding, and that was when Porter gave up lying to himself.
Adele was his.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t given up the fight, and she’d spent the better part of the last year, dating with a vengeance. Macie claimed she thought Adele was in too much of a hurry to find another boyfriend, dating in an attempt to try to get over Keith.
Porter had watched her from afar, not worrying himself too much about it. Mainly because she’d been picking all the wrong guys and he knew it. She was a good bit younger than him and relatively inexperienced when it came to dating. She’d spent the better part of four years with Keith, and he couldn’t recall her dating anyone before him.
So he figured she needed a chance to play the field, to see exactly what kind of men she didn’t want so it would be easier for her to see that he was the right one.
Porter had been a little concerned when Nick entered the picture because he was a pretty decent guy with a good career and enough smarts and humor to keep a girl like Adele’s attention, unlike the previous long line of losers she’d accepted dates with. When he realized tonight that she’d broken things off with Nick, he’d decided then and there it was time to stake his claim. He wasn’t about to take a chance that someone else might come along who would stick.