She felt melty again. Wow. “I’m, um, not a…you know…an actual virgin. Just so you know.”
“You ever been fucked by a bayou boy after drinkin’ moonshine at a crawfish boil while skinny dippin’ when you’re supposed to be fishin’?”
His drawl had just gotten very deep and pronounced and Caroline felt her clit actually tingle in response. “I…” She cleared her throat. “…have not.”
“Then you’re a virgin in all the most fun ways.”
She really didn’t know what to say to that.
And he clearly saw that. And he smirked again.
He had the upper hand here. It was obvious to them both. He’d not only given her food and shelter and protection, but he was also making sure she knew that he could be the best time she’d ever had. He was going to let her let loose. He was going to encourage it.
She wasn’t used to not being in control of her interactions with men. She prided herself on figuring them out and using their egos or their weaknesses—which were often the same thing—or whatever else she knew about them to manage the situations she was in.
Not so with Zander Landry.
And she loved it. The feeling of freedom. The feeling of anticipation. The feeling of…being a little naughty. Other people got to be naughty. They got to be downright terrible people. She felt like she always had to be the good girl. The rule follower who made sure others were following the rules too.
And again, the words not so with Zander Landry tripped through her mind.
He not only made her want to be naughty, but he was also clearly able to handle any out-of-control situation. She could relax with him.
His phone chimed as a text came in, breaking the moment of silence that stretched between them full of lust and expectation and, yes, fun.
He crossed to the bedside table and picked the phone up, glancing at the screen. “Paige says you’re welcome to use anything of hers. Clothes, shampoo, whatever.”
“I love Paige,” she said with a smile.
“She’s the best,” he agreed. “And you can shower over there.”
“It’s okay for me to shower at Paige’s but not here? I’ll still be naked while you’re there.”
Again, the muscle along his jaw tensed, but he nodded. “I’m not saying I’m not going to be hard the entire time with some very dirty thoughts going, but I’m not going to do anything about them in someone else’s house.”
She loved the blatant admissions but also the fact that he had some self control. He had rules, an idea of how things were supposed to go, principles. Lord, she did not spend a lot of time with people with principles.
Plus, this building tension was fun too.
“Because that would be weird?” she asked, poking a little.
“Because if we break a table or knock over a lamp or something, I’d feel bad.”
She felt a little bubble of laughter rise in her chest and she grinned. “Wow, I’m a table-and-lamp-breaking-sex virgin too.”
He didn’t smile. He gave her a nod. “Good.”
Whew. How did he pack so much heat in one word? He was right. If he wasn’t going to do anything about this ache that kept growing in her, she needed to get some space.
“I’m going down to get some coffee.”
“Good.”
She looked down. “Can I go to Paige’s like this?” She was covered, but she didn’t have pants or shoes on.
“Yep. No one’s around this time of day. They’re just two houses over.”
“Piggyback ride?” she asked, wiggling a bare foot at him.
“Or I’ll throw you over my shoulder,” he said without blinking. “But you don’t have to worry, Caroline. I’ll take care of you.”
Hot shivers went through her. “I believe you, Zander.”
Then she turned on her heel and finally left the room.
Somewhere between kissing Caroline Holland in his bed—the first time—and sunrise, Zander had finally, fully given into fate.
Honestly, he was proud he’d lasted as long as he had. His draw to her had been nearly instantaneous and powerful. Better Landry men than him had fallen this fast. Why he’d thought he’d win the battle, he wasn’t sure. He had very good reasons not to let himself get tangled up with a woman, especially one like Caroline. But Fate and the Landrys had a long, serious relationship and he was sure they’d all been laughing the entire time he’d tried fighting.
Now she was down in his kitchen and her eyes had actually lit up when he’d mentioned a crawfish boil and moonshine. And of course, the fucking.
She wanted him. She wanted the hot, dirty sex he was promising. She was very open and honest about it. And he was more turned on by that than he had been by anything else he could remember. Ever.
From the start, he’d known that Caroline tried on different identities when she met people. She looked for what worked best to get what she wanted. She’d told him about how her family and their social circle worked. He knew that she was never real.
But in that bed last night she’d been fucking real. And standing in his bedroom door, lighting up about the idea of moonshine-country-dancing-bayou-fucking, she’d been real.
She didn’t like having to play parts. She wanted to just say what she thought and do what felt good.
And as much as he wanted her out of Autre and his life and away from his heart, he wasn’t going to send her away before he gave her the chance to feel as good as she ever had.
He got into his uniform and headed for the kitchen.
He’d take her to Paige’s to clean up. He could take her back to the bed and breakfast, but he liked having her here, on this end of town, borrowing stuff from his cousin-in-law, and then going to breakfast with him in his truck. It was crazy, but he liked that she didn’t have any of her own stuff here. Nothing from her life in New Orleans, nothing that had anything to do with the Holland family or Brantley Anderson.
It was a little controlling and it wouldn’t last. He couldn’t keep her from her phone, her purse, and her belongings forever. But he liked the idea of providing what she needed and taking care of her. And yes, cutting her off from all of that for a while.
It was going to be short-term so he was going to lean into it. As soon as Spencer took care of this illegal animal situation, Zander could kiss Caroline goodbye.
He found her sitting at his table, his favorite mug cradled in one hand, reading the romance novel he’d started three nights ago.
She looked up as he came into the room. “Is this yours?”
He nodded. He didn’t care if people knew he read romance. He enjoyed it. So what?
She tipped her head. “You are…fascinating.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch,” he told her, crossing to the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup and turned to face her, leaning against the counter.
“It is?” she asked. “You’re a cop who reads romance novels and keeps up on Hollywood gossip.”
“My grandma loves Hollywood gossip.”
“You keep up with it for her?”
“It started that way. Now I love all the drama.”
“Not enough drama here?”
“I like the stupid, meaningless drama. I like the idea that people can get worked up over someone’s shoes on the red carpet or get into putting two total strangers into imaginary relationships. People need silly outlets for their emotions sometimes, and to pretend that all of that superficial bullshit actually matters, because real life is tough and often sucks.”