Never Too Much Read online

  “What’s the matter?”

  Ben smiled. “I lied.”

  “Is that right?” As if she didn’t really care one way or the other, Sierra continued to eat with a very healthy appetite. “About what?”

  Ben pulled his own chair close to hers, turned it around, and straddled it. He crossed his arms over the back and propped his chin there, watching Sierra with the sun-kissed skin, the luscious mouth, the smiling eyes.

  Softly, feeling wolfish indeed, he said, “About wanting you.”

  She went still, not even chewing. Suddenly she choked, sputtered. Ben reached around to pat her on the back, but her eyes widened and she leaned out of reach.

  She swallowed hard, wheezed, then choked out, “Uh . . . what do you mean, wanting me?”

  Knowing she was about to bolt, Ben pushed to his feet, and Sierra pressed back in her chair, watching him warily.

  Another telling reaction. He lifted one brow. “Not to worry, Sierra. You made yourself real clear. Not interested, right?”

  He propped his hands on his hips and stared down at her, more than ready to give her some of his own honesty. Her eyes locked on his, her pupils expanded.

  “The thing is, I’ve been looking for a challenge.” His voice lowered even more. “And guess what?”

  “What?”

  Ben whispered, “You’re it.”

  The Novels of Lori Foster

  Too Much Temptation

  Never Too Much

  Unexpected

  Say No to Joe?

  The Secret Life of Bryan

  When Bruce Met Cyn

  Just a Hint—Clint

  Jamie

  Murphy’s Law

  Jude’s Law

  The Watson Brothers

  Yule Be Mine

  Anthologies

  All Through the Night

  I Brake for Bad Boys

  Bad Boys on Board

  I Love Bad Boys

  Jingle Bell Rock

  Bad Boys to Go

  I’m Your Santa

  A Very Merry Christmas

  When Good Things Happen to Bad Boys

  The Night Before Christmas

  Star Quality

  Perfect for the Beach

  Bad Boys in Black Tie

  Truth or Dare

  Bad Boys of Summer

  Delicious

  LORI FOSTER

  NEVER TOO MUCH

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  “What’s the matter?”

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  The damp, sultry night air felt thick with the threat of a violent storm. Not a single star glimmered through the ominous gray clouds gently crowding the dark sky. It was the type of night that stirred a man’s blood, made him think of warm mussed sheets and a warmer mussed woman.

  Ben Badwin needed a woman, and he needed her now. Tonight.

  Taking slow, deep breaths, Ben let his mind wander to the carnal image of uncontrolled sex, of raging lust. His muscles tensed as he dredged up several female possibilities, but he dismissed them all as not quite right. A muggy breeze ruffled his hair, drifted against his heated skin through the open collar of his shirt. Ben turned his face up to the night and smiled. He knew what he wanted.

  A challenge.

  Lately, the thrill of the chase, the chance to seduce, had been missing in his life. But he was a man, and damn it, he liked the chase. He liked testing himself and coming out the conqueror. He liked being a dominant male.

  Tonight, the bar and grill attached to his motel was packed. Not only were registered guests eating, playing pool, or drinking, but a lot of truckers had stopped in, as well as some locals who often frequented the bar.

  For the most part the crowd remained friendly and free spending, allowing Ben to take a moment to himself. He stood just outside the entry door and surveyed the parking lot. Flood lamps lit the area, showing a collection of shadowed cars and trucks. Business was good, booming even. On that level, at least, Ben was very satisfied.

  On another, he burned with edginess.

  A little way down, in one of the ground floor rooms, a door opened. Two attractive, chatty women, probably in their early thirties, emerged. They laughed together as they moseyed toward the bar along the covered walkway. From all indications, they’d already been drinking. They neared Ben, and the one with short, stylish blond hair winked and gave a three-finger wave.

  Ben smiled back, typically polite, charmed as always, yet uninterested. “Ladies.”

  A leggy brunette cocked her shapely hip. “Helluva night to be hanging outside.” She eyed him up and down and up again with lascivious significance. A long scarlet fingernail touched his naked chest just inside his open shirt. “You should come on in and let me buy you a drink.”

  Wishing he felt even a spark of interest, Ben raised his arms in mock regret. “An offer that sweet is hard to refuse, but refuse I must.”

  She leaned forward, showing an impressive bosom to advantage. “I promise not to bite.”

  Ben couldn’t help grinning. He adored women and their antics, how they flirted and the games they played— the games he always won. “Sweetheart, I don’t believe that for a second.”

  The woman laughed in delight. “You sure you don’t want to join us?”

  The blonde added, “It’ll be fun.”

  “Can’t.” Ben shook his head, and lied. “My time is already taken.”

  “Your loss.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  They went inside and promptly found new game. Amused, Ben crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the clapboard wall. He enjoyed the business; he definitely enjoyed the female attention.

  But these days he simply needed more, and he refused to settle for less.

  A low rumble, probably thunder from the approaching storm, stirred the air. Ben looked to the sky for lightning, but saw none. The rumbling increased and seconds later the headlights of an ancient truck came around the curve, briefly flashing into Ben’s face before swerving into the landscaping business directly across the street.

  A few weeks ago Ben had noticed that the shop, after being abandoned for several months, was turning operational again. He’d noticed new paint, repaired shutters, a clean sweep of the cluttered gravel lot. Truckloads of mulch and plants had been delivered and arranged into neat rows.

  Ben watched the old battered truck come to a jarring halt with grinding gears and a spattering of the loose rock and dirt. The headlights died, followed by a slamming door. He stared through the darkness, strangely alert.

  Inside Ben’s bar, someone started the jukebox, and the rousing tune of “Bad to the Bone” emerged. The base was low and thrumming, reverberating in his chest, in his head.

  That’s when Ben saw her.

  She came out of the shadows and started across the street toward him. Spellbound, Ben watched as fog seemed to part around her, giving her an ethereal appearance. Somehow her steps, slow and rhythmic, matched the beat of the music, and the beat of his heart.

  The reflection of a streetlamp glinted off her reddish-brown hair. It was tied into a
high ponytail that might have been neat at one point during the day but now straggled loose and sloppy around her face. A fringe of bangs, stringy with sweat, hung half in her eyes. She wore a dusty white sleeveless shirt under a pair of coverall shorts with unraveled hems and a pair of brown lace-up work boots over rolled gray socks.

  Ben wouldn’t call it feminine attire, but maybe fetish attire? Whatever. She sure got his attention.

  He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of panties a woman wore under a getup like that.

  Despite being midnight and hotter than Hades, her stride was long and sure and fluid, matching that provocative music—Bad to the Bone.

  She had the walk of a satisfied woman, and it turned Ben on. He’d always found confidence to be very sexy.

  Because he stood in the shadows, she didn’t notice him until the last moment, when she was a mere three feet away. Their eyes met; their gazes caught and held. She faltered, then slowly, intently, surveyed him. Her lips parted in surprise.

  Ben didn’t move, didn’t alter his relaxed pose against the building. But inside, interest roiled, kicked up his heartbeat and sent his senses—and his equipment—on full alert.

  Knowing he looked too enthralled, Ben managed a more casual nod.

  At his acknowledgment, the woman inched closer, but now her every step seemed weighted with caution and curiosity, as if she didn’t want to look at him, but couldn’t quite help herself. When she was directly in front of Ben, her wide lush mouth tilted and her eyes smiled. She shook her head, as if bemused.

  Or disbelieving.

  “You ought to be illegal.” Her laughing comment, low and throaty, broke the spell. “It’s a good thing I have a stout heart.”

  With that strange, yet provocative remark, she strode on past and into the building.

  A little amazed at his aberrant reaction, Ben realized he hadn’t said a single word, hadn’t taken advantage of the situation or her comment, hadn’t even introduced himself. He turned to view the back of her and his interest expanded. Her ass looked great in the coveralls, soft and cuddly and rounded just right. A nice handful. Her legs were strong, shapely with smooth muscles, lightly tanned.

  The rousing music faded away, but the scent of heated woman touched by the damp outdoors remained. Ben grinned in acute anticipation.

  Oh yeah, this was what he’d been looking for. She was what he’d been looking for.

  The chase was on.

  Feeling like a bull in rut, he trailed into the bar after her. Impatiently, he waited while she looked around, located a booth at the back of the room, and headed in that direction.

  With one nod, Ben let the waitress know he’d take care of this particular customer. He followed along and when she slid into the bench seat, Ben propped his hip on the table. He tried for a nonchalant smile of welcome, but he knew his eyes were glittering, that his smile was more wolfish than not. He couldn’t help that; he hadn’t felt this sexually alert in a long time. “Hi.”

  She glanced up, saw it was him, and pinched off her automatic smile in an effort to keep her expression impassive. “A Coke please. Plenty of ice.”

  The interior lights this time of night were dim to accommodate all the drinkers. Ben couldn’t see the color of her eyes, but the shape was exotic, tilting up on the outsides, heavily fringed with dark lashes. Ben studied her face and attempted to determine what it was about her that lured him.

  Her mouth looked sinful, and very soft.

  Her freckles looked playful, a bit impish.

  Her body . . . Well, it was hard to tell in her sloppy clothes, but he sure as hell intended to find out.

  Even with his obvious perusal, she looked away, reached for the menu, and effectively dismissed him.

  Ben’s interest escalated. Oh yeah, she was good at this, at playing the game. So, she wouldn’t make it easy for him? Good. He nearly rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the coming night.

  Feeling challenged and loving it, he straightened away from the table. “I’ll be right back with your drink.”

  She didn’t reply.

  Taking her at her word, Ben filled a glass with crushed ice and then poured in the soda. She had her head propped up on a fist, her exotic eyes closed tiredly when Ben returned.

  Her nails weren’t painted. They weren’t even clean. Wherever she’d worked today, it had been a dirty job, and the stains on her fingers proved it. But that didn’t bother Ben. He was too pleased to make note of the lack of a ring. Not married, not engaged.

  Perfect.

  He set the drink down and waited.

  Very slowly, her eyes opened. She had a sexy, full mouth, which stretched wide in a yawn before she mumbled through her hand, “Thank you.”

  Her voice was smoky and deep, her expression orgasmic. Or maybe exhausted. Hard to tell when he was so aroused.

  Rather than take a drink, she lifted the icy glass to her forehead and sighed at the cool touch. “It’s so hot outside tonight.”

  It was hotter than hell inside, too.

  A drip of condensation rolled down the frosty glass, fell onto her upper chest, and trickled down between her breasts. Ben held his breath.

  Damn, everything about her seemed devised to push his buttons. Only he couldn’t ever recall a bedraggled, sweaty woman in work clothes turning him on before now.

  In an effort to diminish the lust and further his association, Ben cleared his throat. “You work next door?”

  A proud, friendly smile lit up her eyes. “Yeah. I’m the new owner. We’ve spent the past couple of weeks getting the place into shape. But today we finally started business.”

  She owned the business. She’d be close by.

  Damn. Any woman who would constantly be so close could be trouble. Starting something that would be difficult to end due to proximity would be plain foolish. He had to be cautious, to consider all the possible problems . . .

  Using two fingers, she fished an ice cube out of the glass and sucked on it.

  Ben drew in his breath. To hell with caution.

  He held out a hand, anxious to touch her even in a platonic way. “Welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Ben Badwin, and I own this motel.”

  She looked at his extended hand. “Is that right? Wow, great place.” She swiped her fingers across the top of her thigh, on the coveralls to dry them, then took his hand and pumped twice in a mannish way. “Sierra Murphy. It’s nice to meet you, Ben.”

  Sierra—an unusual name for an unusual woman. Her hand was small, slim, warm. And callused. She looked far too young to own a business, and far too appealing to be working in the dirt. Reluctantly, Ben released her. “You’re out late.”

  “Yeah.” That deep satisfaction was back, somehow as tantalizing as a woman’s natural perfume. “Working on the condos around Parker’s Point.”

  “By moonlight?”

  She shrugged strong, feminine shoulders, bare beneath the sleeveless shirt. She appeared sleekly muscled all over and that had Ben’s brain in a cramp, trying to picture her naked. There wasn’t anything masculine about her figure, but despite her small stature, she wouldn’t be a weak woman either.

  She took a long drink, then slouched back in her seat with a genuine show of tiredness. There was nothing posed about her posture, nothing deliberately enticing, and Ben appreciated the natural picture she made.

  “I unloaded a lot of stuff so we’ll be ready to go bright and early in the morning. Getting a job that size was sheer luck. I don’t want to do anything to blow it.”

  Her candor surprised Ben.

  At his expression, her smile turned playful and she wrinkled her narrow nose.

  Her freckles were really very cute. Was she freckled anywhere else?

  “I’m excited about it all,” she admitted, “and knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Figured I might as well get some work done.”

  He had a cure for sleeplessness that beat the hell out of work anytime, but the timing wasn’t right just yet. Sierra chatted with hi
m, but she wasn’t in any way coming on to him. Other than her beguiling comment out front, there were no signals, no “come and get it” signs. She was friendly, but only friendly.

  Improvising, Ben made the only offer he could think of to extend their introductions. “You look hungry, Sierra. Can I get you something to eat?”

  Her arched brows disappeared under her bangs. “Your menu says you stopped serving food at midnight. That was ten minutes ago.”

  “True. The kitchen is closed and the cook gone home. But we’re neighbors, so I’ll make an exception for you.” And hopefully some headway.

  She sat back in surprise. “Thank you.”

  “You’ll have to eat in the kitchen though, so no one else starts ordering up.” He grinned his most engaging grin, the one that made females flutter and giggle. “I close up at one, and I don’t want any delays.”

  Sierra didn’t flutter, giggle, or even appear to notice his grin. She pursed her mouth, tilted her head, and stared him right in the eyes. “No way will I argue with food right now. I’m starved and too tired to cook for myself.”

  “I’m glad to be of service.” In any way you might need me.

  “But I’ve got to make sure you understand, it’s only a little food I want.”

  Ben blinked at that additional dose of bluntness. “Beg your pardon?”

  “What I said out front? When I first saw you?”

  “What about it?”

  She lowered her thick lashes, hiding her eyes. “I don’t want you to make too much out of it. That was just shock talking.”

  “Shock?” It had sounded like interest to Ben. Very welcome interest. Reciprocal interest, damn it.

  “Mmm. You really took me off guard, just showing up like that.” She gestured somewhere around his midsection, up and down and back again. “Not every day a woman sees a man like you, especially in the dark that way. And I guess I’m just tired enough that I spoke without really thinking.”

  Ben stared at her, hoping he displayed a man in ultimate control of himself. “A man like me?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. Gorgeous? Sexy? A stud?”

  He had no idea how to reply. For the first time in his life, he found himself speechless with a woman.