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JUST LIKE THAT
Warning: Contains a I'll-do-it-myself girl who can fix anything, a
commitment-phobic guy who can't fix anything, and a whole new way to use
butter. Yes, butter.
Sam Bradford's life is just how he wants it. He has plenty of women who
are okay with his one-night only rule. He has lots of friends who know
he's the one to call for a good time but not the guy to give any real
responsibility. He has two sisters he adores and who he never
disappoints because they know better than to depend on him. He knows
what it's like to need someone who's suddenly not there. Sam was fifteen
when his father was killed and he never wants to be responsible for
someone feeling that kind of loss. It's just better to not get too
attached.
He's happy, carefree, fun-loving until Danika Steffen comes along. Now
there's a woman who actually needs him. Granted it's for something he's
exceptionally good at--orgasms--but still, need is not something Sam does
well with. And then she breaks her wrist. On a date with him. Because
of him. Well, it's not like he can walk away from her now. So he'll just
have to stay out of her bed. He'll get her through this rough patch and
then kiss her on the forehead and say goodbye. No matter how amazing she
is. Or how much he wants more than just a kiss or the fact that he's
definitely not thinking about her forehead.
Danika doesn't need anyone. She hasn't since she was a kid. Watching her
mom fall victim to the progressing weakness and disability of MS and her
father have to do more and more, Danika decided at a very young age that
taking care of herself was the only way she wanted to go. When her sisters
set her up for a one-night stand with Sam, the lady-killer, Danika is
shocked--and then intrigued. One night stand means she won't have to get
to know him or like him or depend on him for anything. She can have one
wild night and then walk away. The only problem with that plan is the
broken wrist--and Sam's intense guilt. Now he won't leave. And he won't
sleep with her. Instead he wants to take care of her. Which would drive
her crazy except she has a suspicion that Sam needs a little taking care
of too. And damned if she doesn't want to be the one to do it.
Samhain Publishing
June 2010
© copyright Erin Nicholas, 2010
"I'll check the wiring."
"You're going to check the wiring?" he said with a smile.
She raised an eyebrow. "Not if you're going to act like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you can't believe that a woman would know how to check the wiring in a ceiling fan."
"I guess while you're up on the table I can check out your butt."
"Good. Be chauvinistic. That will help."
He chuckled. "I was just kidding. What will it help?"
"Me not like you so much."
"You can't help liking me, Dani," he said, huskily, pulling her closer.
He was right. Unfortunately. "Get me a screwdriver already," she said, pushing him back before she got too comfortable up against him. "And don't call me Dani."
He let go of her, turning to rummage in the toolbox on the counter next to the microwave. "No one calls you Dani?"
"Men don't."
"Why not?"
"I don't let them." It was too familiar and she didn't like getting to the point of nicknames and endearments with the men she dated.
Sam said nothing to that and he did, indeed, stand behind her as she crawled up on the dining room table to check the ceiling fan. He shut off the electrical switch on the wall and then held the flashlight for her. Along with the light coming from the kitchen it was plenty to see what she was doing. But she felt his gaze on the back of her skirt and her body heated and she had to force herself to focus on the job at hand.
"How do you know how to do that?" he finally asked.
"I make it a point to know how to do things for myself."
There was a long silence as she removed the cover from the center of the ceiling fan, then stripped the plastic coating back from the end of one wire where it had frayed and come unconnected, then reattached it to the one next to it. She lifted the cover back over the inner workings of the fan and inserted the tiny screw into the hole to hold the cover on.
"You already have a vibrator at home, don't you?"
She wobbled and dropped the screw. "What?"
What a way to break the silence.
"You didn't need that blue dildo, did you?"
Unable to come up with anything other than, "Um," Danika looked down at Sam. To find him looking at her butt, which was just about eye level for him.
He handed her the screw from where it had bounced across the table. "You said you haven't had an orgasm." He wrapped a big, warm hand around her calf to steady her and looked up. "But you just said that you make a point of knowing how to do things for yourself."
She quickly turned her attention back to the ceiling fan, which made a lot more sense than the riot of sensations that this virtual stranger was stirring up. "I said that I haven't been with a man who gave me an orgasm." She tried to turn the screw but it wouldn't go in straight, just as she couldn't ignore the way his touch seemed to tingle up her bare leg and a very specific spot higher.
"Have you had an orgasm with a woman?"
She wobbled, the screw hit the table again, and his grip tightened on her leg. "Excuse me?"
Sam stroked his hand up and down her calf. Slowly. Completely ignoring the screw this time. "If you haven't had an orgasm with a man, it was an obvious question to ask if you have with a woman."
She took a deep breath, trying to focus on what he'd said, versus the feel of his hand on her. They were talking about orgasms. Right. And women. Wrong.
She frowned. "No, I haven't had an orgasm with a woman."
"Too bad." He gave her a bone-melting grin. "I had some pretty good images going."
"I'll bet." She shook off his hand and bent to pick up the screw where it had bounced.
"But you've had one by yourself, right?"
She tossed her hair over her shoulder. What the heck? He knew plenty about her already. Which ensured that she was going to make a point of never seeing him again. "Yes. Several in fact."
"Good." He nodded, apparently pleased with her answer.
"Good?"
"No woman should go without orgasms completely."
She couldn't say why exactly, but that struck her as funny. She grinned. "If only everyone was so certain about their beliefs."
He winked at her and it hit her that he was good looking. And she needed to never see him again.
She straightened and fit the screw back into the tiny hole. Just then she felt the heat of Sam's hand on her calf again. She braced herself for the stroking that commenced. What she wasn't prepared for was the fact that his hand kept traveling up. And up.
She narrowed her eyes, concentrating on fitting the tip of the screwdriver into the star shaped notches on the screw. But when her eyes drifted shut as Sam's hand passed her knee and continued up, taking the hem of her skirt up with it, it was very difficult to see anything at all.
Move forward. Move out of reach.
Her legs had no idea what her brain was talking about. Why would she move away from such exquisite feelings?
You can not do this on the dining room table, that's probably been in the family for generations, of a sweet little woman who you don't even know.
Still, her legs pretended not to hear.
When Sam's lips met the skin in the middle of the back of her thigh, she felt the heat shoot straight up between her thighs and her knees wobbled.
Then his tongue touched the crease at the back of her knee and she melted.
Literally.
She vaguely heard Sam gasp, "Danika!" but the next true sensation she was aware of was the sharp pain from where her knees hit the table, stealing her breath, and the hot knife that was seemingly dug into her right wrist.
She thought about gasping, or screaming, or swearing loudly, but her chest wouldn't expand.
Holy crap. That hurt.
Holy crap. She was hurt.
"Danika!"
Shit, damn, fuck.
"Danika," he said earnestly. "Are you okay?"
Somehow, without even thinking, he'd gotten her up sitting on the edge of the table instead of on her hands and knees, not breathing and looking white as a sheet.
Now, a few minutes later, she was still not breathing deeply and was white as a sheet. But she was upright.
Her pulse was strong, she wasn't bleeding, she hadn't hit her head. She was technically
okay.
"Hmm?"
"Danika? Honey, are you hurt?"
Of course she was hurt. She'd hit the table hard. She'd gone forward, but her legs hadn't moved with her-since he'd had a hold of them-and she'd gone down onto all fours, her hands hitting just milliseconds before her knees.
It was all his fault.
She blinked long and slow three times before he was sure she was focused on his face.
"What the..." She reached to rub her right knee with her right hand, but instantly sucked in a quick, hard breath. "Damn!"
"Your knee?" Had she cracked her knee cap? That was a hell of an injury. His hands sandwiched her knee and he pressed a thumb against the center of the knee cap.
She winced but it didn't elicit an expletive, which had to be a good sign. She shook her head.
"Did I fall on a knife?"
He stared at her. He was positive she hadn't hit her head. "What do you mean?"
"Did I fall on a knife with my hand? It feels like it."
Oh, terrific. Her hand felt like she'd fallen on a knife when she most certainly had not. Sure, that was normal. And fine. Nothing to worry about at all. Dammit.
"Let me see." He took her hand gently. It was swelling. Shit. "Where?"
"All of it."
He started moving her fingers one by one. She winced with all of them, particularly when he moved her two middle fingers. He felt along each of the long bones of her hand, again with only slight wincing. But when he tried to move her wrist, she jerked back.
"No!"
"The wrist?" He took her hand back gently. "I'll be easy. But I have to see what's going on."
"I just fell on it funny," she said. "It's just a strain."
"Let's check it," he said grimly. He pressed on the middle of the back of her wrist and she instantly jerked and tears filled her eyes.
He looked at her and sighed. "We have to go to the hospital, Danika. I think you broke your wrist."
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Just Like That is Book #2 in the Bradfords series and I have to say I
loved Just Like That even better than book #1 Just Right!
What makes Erin Nicholas' novels stand out are the amount of humour
infused in the story: usually love scenes and seductions are written in a
sensual, steamy way, but in Erin Nicholas' stories you could very well
laugh out loud at a line in the middle of a hot and steamy scene and that
gives the whole relationship (and story) a different aspect, which I most
certainly like.
You'll laugh, you'll cry and you'll definitely pant while reading Just
Like That, it is a keeper, and if you haven't bought this series yet (why?
what are you waiting for?!) Now is the time!!
I give Just Like That 5 bookies!—
Stella, Book Lovers, Inc.
FOUR STARS!
"Just Like That is a fun, sexy, light-hearted read that I definitely recommend." —Mandi Schreiner, Smexy Books
Just Like That by Erin Nicolas is a fantastic read. I found myself
sympathizing with Dankia and how her loss of childhood affected her once
she became an adult. Sam tickled my fancy. It's always great to see a man
working hard to impress a sexy woman and trying to be "the man." Just Like
That by Erin Nicolas is a touching story that I'd recommend to anyone. —
(Reviewed by Sin) Two Lips Reviews
Danika is a kick ass heroine! I mean kick ass. She can do what needs to be done and watching her learn to accept Sam's help is wonderful. And watching Sam trying to do things for Danika, try to be the man is just damn sweet. And the sexual tension of the almost but not quite sex. Sizzle! And when the actual sex happens. Worth the wait! Totally worth the wait.
I am so happy I found Erin Nicholas. I'm just sorry I devoured her back list so quickly. *sigh* Now I have to wait for Spring of 2011 - 2011 people! - for her next book "Anything You Want".
More: http://scrapsofme.me
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