Adding Up to You Read online

  He set his forehead to hers. Against his chest he could feel her heart pounding. Her nipples, hard and pebbled, bored holes into his flesh.

  “You know what? Never mind,” she said, lifting his head by the fistfuls of hair she gripped. “Let’s just do it again.” And she pulled his mouth to hers.

  Yes. Again. And again… Somehow in the wild kiss—wild kisses—his hands became full of her soft, round breasts. The thin straps of her dress slipped down, then so did the bodice, and he bent, filling his mouth with her.

  He heard a thunk. Her head hitting the wall. “Oh my…” she whispered, then her nimble fingers unzipped his pants and wrapped around the biggest erection he’d ever had. “Wes?” She teased him with her fingers, stroking, until he actually thought he might humiliate himself right then—

  “It wasn’t my toes,” she said, and rimmed his ear with her tongue.

  When her words sank in, he froze. “What?”

  “I tried to tell you.”

  He gripped her wrist and pulled back. “Not your toes. I hauled you in here, and it wasn’t you—”

  “Are you saying you’d have hauled Serena in here if you’d known?”

  “Christ, no. Kenna…are you sure it wasn’t you, because—”

  She sighed and straightened her dress. “Trust me, I’d never start something I couldn’t finish.”

  “And…now?”

  “I didn’t start this.”

  Right. He had. He’d say he was sorry, but other than not being able to walk, he wasn’t. The only thing he was sorry about was that the mood had been broken. Kenna—”

  “They’d better not have cleared my plate.” She turned away. “Give me a few minutes before you follow, okay?”

  A few minutes. No problem.

  For much longer than that Wes stood in the absolute dark, still fully aroused, unable to stop thinking about how she’d felt in his hands, his mouth. How he’d felt in her hands.

  How much more he wanted.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME Kenna made her way back into the ballroom, she’d missed dinner and dessert, and she placed the blame firmly on Serena.

  Or she would have, if she’d been looking for someone to blame. The truth was, she didn’t regret the closet incident.

  In fact, she wanted another.

  Wes eventually came back into the ballroom, looking subdued and bearing a plate of strawberry cheesecake, which he handed to her.

  If they’d been alone, she’d have kissed him again.

  She ate every bite. By the time she was done and looked around, he was gone.

  She left shortly afterward as well, heading for her room. Surprisingly enough, she slept.

  The next morning, Saturday, she lay in bed and stared at her fancy ceiling.

  She hadn’t thought about what had brought her here in a while, that being the little matter of proving her worth to the family while remaining one hundred percent true to herself. She still wanted that, but she was afraid that there were some places she would just never fit in, that maybe there were places she just didn’t want to fit in. The job was fine, but fine just wasn’t enough anymore. People didn’t think liberally here, they weren’t open to trying different things, to accepting something outside the box.

  And maybe she was getting tired of beating her head against the proverbial wall of their resistance.

  Maybe she needed to find something for her, something that would stir her soul and keep her going every day, and maybe that something wasn’t the hotel business.

  But for now she had a whole weekend, and she needed out, needed to revitalize. After three weeks of paychecks, she could have gone anywhere, but armed with a check equal to one of those weeks, she drove to the Teen Zone.

  There weren’t kids in the yard this time, but two men on ladders painting the house, one of them Josh from work.

  The other…she blinked in the early sunlight, sure that she was hallucinating.

  Or fantasizing.

  Because high on the second ladder, alongside Josh, stood Wes.

  At the sound of her sandals on the concrete, the two dark, handsome heads turned to look at her.

  Josh smiled his reception.

  Wes did not.

  Shading her eyes with her hand, Kenna tilted her head back and studied them both in jeans and T-shirts, thinking it was a shame they didn’t allow such dress at work because they certainly looked mighty fine in faded, soft denim. “What are you doing?”

  “Painting.” Josh had a streak across one cheek and his shirt, and for a guy she knew only as the Mallory Enterprises resident computer geek, he looked to be having a fabulous time.

  Kenna glanced at Wes and couldn’t help but yearn and burn with memories. He had paint spattered across his T-shirt and jeans, too, but he didn’t grin. He simply lifted one brow and shot her a look that had her thoughts going straight to the gutter.

  Every time she thought about how he’d kissed her, touched her, everything, she got hot and cold at the same time. Even now, her thigh muscles tightened. Her nipples hardened.

  A simple, hormonal reaction to an extraordinary-looking man, she assured herself. Normal.

  “Want to give us a hand?” Josh asked.

  Kenna was still looking at Wes, who was looking at her right back, the sun reflecting off his glasses so that she couldn’t get a feel for what was happening behind the lenses.

  Josh backed down the ladder so he could talk without yelling. “It’s a good cause, you know. I once spent a lot of time in one of Sarah’s Teen Zones.”

  “You did?”

  “Between that and my brother—” He hitched a shoulder toward Wes. “I managed to stay on the straight and narrow when I wasn’t headed that way by myself.”

  Kenna stared at him for a moment before whirling back to Wes, who was still high above her on the ladder. “Josh is your brother?”

  “The one and only. Original troublemaker, reformed rebel, now computer wizard Josh Roth.”

  “Not too reformed,” Josh said proudly, wiggling his eyebrows. “I can still raise trouble as needed—Oops.” His cell phone was ringing. One look at the caller ID had him going very still. “Well, look at that. She finally realized she wants me.”

  Kenna blinked. “Who?

  “The fickle Mallory.”

  “We’re all fickle.”

  “I’m talking the master of fickle.”

  “Serena.” Surprised, Kenna watched as Josh answered the phone.

  “This is my day off, princess, so unless you finally have the word yes on your tongue—” Josh went quiet, listening, then laughed. “I’m not falling for that little sniffle, so go call some other fool to come fix your home computer. I only work on Saturday for women who at least pretend to like me.” Clicking off, he put the phone back on his belt and strode toward the house.

  “Where are you going?” Wes called after him.

  “I need sustenance.”

  “She’s messing with him,” Kenna said.

  “Better him than me,” Wes muttered.

  “Wes—”

  “He’s a big boy, he can handle it.”

  Yes, she was sure Josh could handle it. In fact, they’d actually be good together, if Serena would ever admit such a thing.

  “Why don’t you grab a brush and start on the trim?” Wes asked.

  “I didn’t plan on…”

  “What, you don’t want to get your manicure all messed up?”

  “What?” She stared up at him. “What did you just say to me?”

  “You don’t want to get your—”

  “I heard you.”

  “Then why did you say what?”

  “For your information, I’ve never painted before.”

  Wes smiled. “Big surprise, Ms. Mallory.”

  “Okay, Mr. Know-It-All.”

  “I am not Mr….Know-It-All.”

  “You are. You took one look at me on my first day and thought you knew me. You think you know everything. Now, I’ll give