Playing with Dynamite. Leanne Banks

squeezed her waist. Instead, he extended his feet on either side of hers and put them just close enough to make her aware of him. Her startled gaze finally shot up to meet his.

      Lisa struggled to disentangle her bare legs from his. The brush of denim and the strength and warmth of his knees capturing hers sent a chaotic heat pulsing through her bloodstream. “I kept my eyes open except for two times,” she admitted, glaring at him when she freed her legs.

      Mark glanced from Brick to Lisa quizzically. “You never told me how you two met.”

      Trying to salvage what she could of this disastrous date, Lisa forced a smile and said casually, “As a matter of fact, we met here about nine months ago.” She shot Brick a warning look.

      Brick’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Nine months and twenty-three days,” he corrected. “And that was just the beginning.”

      Chapter Two

      “He’s kinda scrawny,” Brick said forty-five minutes later when Lisa jerked open her door.

      “Everyone looks scrawny to you,” she retorted, completely exasperated. Back at the bar Mark Lawford had picked up on Brick’s tone and looked at Lisa with questions just waiting to be asked. Lisa had been so embarrassed, she didn’t have a prayer of forming an adequate response. She wasn’t pleased with the sense of relief she’d felt when Mark hadn’t kissed her good night. She wasn’t pleased that her first date “with a goal” had ended so disastrously. And she wasn’t pleased that she didn’t know who she was more angry with, Brick or herself.

      She would never have let him in except that he claimed to have her address book, and when she’d checked her purse, sure enough, she’d found it missing. Her address book was one of the keys to her search for a husband. In the wrong hands, the information it contained would be humiliating. Lisa held out her hand. “Where’s my address book?”

      “In a minute,” he promised. “Let’s have a drink and a little conversation first.” He strolled past her into the small den.

      Lisa’s grip tightened on the door, and she closed her eyes in frustration. She’d done pretty well in her quest to get past Brick and start looking for the future father of her children, until she’d run into her former lover. Former lover. The thought caused her stomach to tighten.

      Lisa slammed the door mentally and physically. Determined to get rid of Brick, she whipped around and went into the den. “I’m not going to offer you a drink,” she said through gritted teeth to the man who lounged on her sofa. “I’m going to ask for my address book, thank you, escort you to the door and say good night. That’s the program. Got it?”

      Brick locked gazes with her for a long moment. After seeming to measure her determination, he frowned and pulled the small paisley cloth-covered book from his pocket. He stood. “What are three stars for?”

      Humiliation crowded her chest. Lisa felt her cheeks burn with heat. She snatched the book from his hand. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

      “Oh, but I do worry about you.” Brick took a step closer and looked down at her. “I wonder if you’re trying to cater too many parties. I wonder if you’re forgetting to eat dinner. I wonder if you’re working so hard that you forget to have fun.”

      Lisa tried not to let his concern soften her resolve. “I ate dinner tonight, and I was having fun with Mark.”

      Based on his expression of disbelief, Brick must have guessed that last comment was a stretch, but he let it pass. “I wonder if you’ve backed into something this week.”

      Lisa pressed her lips together. The man knew entirely too much about her, even her little problem with backing into things with her car. Just that morning she’d barely missed a mailbox. “Not a thing.”

      He paused and his face was utterly sincere. “Ever since you kicked me out of your apartment after making love to me like a wild woman—”

      The reminder murmured in his low, husky voice singed her from head to toe. Taking a deep breath, Lisa stepped back. “I did not kick you out. It wasn’t as if we lived together or anything.”

      He moved closer and lifted a strand of her hair. “Then what would you call it?”

      “I—I—” She swallowed over her fumbling tongue. His nearness affected her as if she’d risen too fast after deep-sea diving. His gaze roamed over her from head to toe. He wanted to touch her everywhere he’d looked, she realized. Her body melted. “I invited you to leave,” she managed in a strained voice.

      He lifted an eyebrow and twined his fingers through her hair. “Next time,” he said quietly, “I guess I’ll have to turn down that invitation.”

      His thumb grazed the soft curve of her jaw, and Lisa had to resist the urge to turn her face into his wide palm. “Next time I won’t invite. Next time I’ll—”

      He pressed his thumb over her lips, halting her threat. “I’ve missed you.”

      She drew a shaky breath. His simple direct words had the impact of a bomb detonating inside her.

      “I’ve missed holding you, kissing you, making love to you. And I’ve missed talking to you.” He lowered his head closer to hers so that she didn’t just hear his words, she felt them. He dropped his thumb from her mouth and curled his hand around her waist. “Tell the truth, Lisa. Haven’t you missed me just a little bit?”

      Lisa experienced a rush of emotion inside her so intense that it hurt to look at him. She squished her eyes closed. “Oh, Brick,” she whispered.

      His warm mouth captured hers, his tongue slid gently past her lips, and Lisa’s knees and resolve dipped. It was an I-don’t-want-to-do-without-you kiss packed with tender seduction. Her hands groped for his shoulders, and she was immediately enveloped in his arms.

      With his hand at the small of her back, he matched their lower bodies together so that she felt him intimately against her abdomen. Lisa’s heart nearly burst. She’d missed him in this way too. Missed his arms around her, missed his hungry kiss, and missed the way he openly showed his need for her, a need he wanted her to satisfy.

      Undiluted arousal surged through her like straight whiskey, robbing her breath and sanity. Her thighs tingled, a restless ache settled low in her belly, and instinctively she wanted to touch him where he grew taut and hard. He’d always liked it when she touched him. She skimmed her hand down his chest to his belly.

      He gave an encouraging groan that vibrated deliriously through her mouth. She slipped her fingers closer to the very edge of his straining masculinity.

      He shifted his pelvis toward her hand and pulled his mouth from hers. His head dipped toward her shoulder, and his uneven breaths matched hers. “God, I’ve missed you, Lisa. It’s been too long. Let me take you to bed.”

      The word bed slapped at Lisa like two cymbals crashing against each other, reverberating throughout her overheated consciousness.

      One of his hands rose to caress her breast, and she felt another sensual tug inside her. “Lisa,” he muttered, pressing his erection into her hand again, seeking her intimate touch.

      Her mind and body were in total disagreement about what she should do next.

      What was she doing? her conscience screamed. Lisa pulled back her hand and pushed against his shoulder. Three weeks away from him, one kiss, and she’d lost it. “Oh, Lord, what am I doing?” she whispered brokenly, turning away from him and immediately missing his warmth. She wrapped her arms around her waist.

      Brick’s body rebelled at the sudden distance between them. He reached for her, but she jerked away from him. His hands felt empty beyond belief. What had happened? One minute she was the epitome of feminine heat in his arms, the next, she’d pulled away. Brick shook his head to clear it. She sounded almost as if she were crying. The notion nearly tore him in two. Wanting to hold her, needing to hold her, he touched her arm.

      “No!”