Tell Me You Crave Me Read online

  He’s spent his life protecting her from guys like himself...

  Easton Ambrose has spent half his life protecting Natalie St. Clair from guys like himself. It’s not like he wants to interfere with her dating life, but what’s he supposed to do when she insists on going out with the wrong kind of guy? Kiss her, of course. But now she’s pissed. And what starts as an apology turns to heated words...then just to heat.

  Jumping East was the worst idea in the history of ideas. The guy is Natalie’s older brother’s best friend, the definition of off limits. But she’s tired of the safe guys who couldn’t light a fire with a flamethrower. Time for a little dangerous—even if dangerous always blows up in your face. Because even if they survive their bedroom antics, it’s only a matter of time before they’re caught…

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover the Search and Seduce series… Tell Me You Need Me

  Tell Me You Want Me

  Chasing Trouble

  Chasing Temptation

  Chasing Desire

  Chasing Mr. Wrong

  Rules of Seduction

  If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases… Hold Me Until Forever

  Seducing Cinderella

  Her Fantasy Husband

  Over the Top

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Joya Ryan. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit www.brazenbooks.com.

  Edited by Stephen Morgan

  Cover design by Heather Howland

  Cover art from iStock

  ISBN 978-1-63375-620-5

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition April 2016

  Dear Reader,

  Here’s what I love about the Search and Seduce series: the men are alpha softies and the women are capably fragile ball-busters. Yep, you read that right. Because Natalie and Easton are have insecurities and strengths just like all of us. But it’s how they bring out the best in each other...no matter how irritating they make the other. Sometimes it’s easy to tell your best friend your true feelings, like how they’re total A-holes and need to jump off some high place. But other times, it’s easier saying that to your best friend’s older brother. And Natalie lets East know that his playboy crap doesn’t fly, all while East makes the “renowned” awkward Natalie feel nothing but special. Because sometimes awkward is sexy. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself...

  Joya

  To Jordan.

  Thank you for making me laugh regularly. Between 99 bananas, calling the dinosaurs, and crying in public over two bottles of wine, I appreciate your endless support.

  You’re the deliverer of Moscow Mules and face high fives that always bring me back to reality.

  Love you, boo.

  Chapter One

  Holy God, this was painful to watch, Easton Ambrose thought, wincing at the pitiful display in front of him.

  Honey’s was the only bar/restaurant in town that boasted Southern hospitality, good food, and unique architecture, so it was the place to be on a Friday night. Hell, in his small town of Beaufort, North Carolina, it was where most of the ladies flocked, and East was nothing if not an avid hunter.

  Seeing as how he “knew,” aka “saw naked in some capacity,” most of the women currently in the bar, he could spot a hot chick he didn’t recognize immediately. Even if all he could see was her sweet ass sitting in the barstool with her back to him. Hourglass figure. Prominent hourglass, to be exact. With her perfect posture and all that thick, dark hair falling over her trim shoulders, the delicate curve of her back leading to some serious hips and ass, he knew right away he’d remember a frame like that if he’d felt it before. And he was certain he hadn’t. Something he’d like to change tonight.

  Not that he was a total playboy douche. Playboy maybe, but not a douche. No, he was upfront with women, cared about their needs, and was clear on his own. He wasn’t a commitment type, and he had good reason for that. But he enjoyed being loved on and lovin’ on someone—as long as it was one night at a time.

  He took a swig of his beer and adjusted his Stetson back on his head just enough to get a better view of this mystery woman at the bar. Normally he’d be at the bar himself, tossing a few back with his buddies, likely all still in their search and rescue gear, but he’d taken tonight off. His buddies had handed in their man cards for “domestic bliss,” and that left East alone on the prowl in a white T-shirt and his favorite hat.

  He shuddered and had to take another drink of beer at the words “domestic bliss.”

  My ass…

  There was nothing blissful about being tied down. Granted, his buddies Dex and Gage were roped to some seriously awesome women, but still. It wasn’t for East. It was a Friday night, and that meant the women from a few towns over always wandered in looking for the country boys and good times that Honey’s promised whenever live music was playing. Which it was. And East played his part well—not the music, but the game—and had his sights set on his opponent for the night.

  Hourglass hottie was clearly on a terrible date with a boring guy. That was obvious. Poor sap didn’t stand a chance with a dime piece like this woman.

  The boring guy was prattling on and on, and East couldn’t help but do his own muffled voiceover:

  “The accounting firm I work at is super duper, and the only thing that gets my dick harder than my calculator watch and tax season is reruns of Golden Girls.” East’s voice was quiet but had a nerdy twang, and to his credit he kept in time with the boring guy’s mouth. Okay, it was kind of fun, so he went on. “Wanna come over to my mom’s house where I live in the basement, and I can heat us up some pot pies and pretend I know how to unfasten a bra?”

  East snickered again. Fuckin’ boring guy. He just knew he wasn’t too far off on his commentary. But still, East was no asshole. He was a prick. Big difference. And he was only a prick sometimes. Particularly when he was riled up, or he saw a woman not being treated right. And man, did this woman look like she needed to be treated right. He could tell by her body language that she was begging for it. And the idiot she was with wasn’t getting the signals. Granted, now her shoulders were slumping, and the hair flick that should be flirty was more annoyed than it had been a minute ago. She knew the guy was lame and not her speed. East could show her what speed a pristine woman like her should be accelerated to.

  Top gear, pedal to the metal, gasping for breath kind of speed.

  And yeah…he got all that from Miss Hourglass without her even having to face him. The deep
cut of her dress and perfect slope of her back was enough for him to know that woman was capable of moving in ways he could only dream of.

  East was an easy going guy, and he wasn’t looking to cock block anyone. But when the boring guy did a double take at a woman walking by, East wasn’t the only one who noticed. Hourglass noticed, too. Her date had just openly checked out another woman right in front of her.

  Dick.

  That annoyed East because clearly the woman Boring Guy was with was hot. But her shoulders slumped a little more, and he could tell by the shift in her body language she felt defeated. He kind of wanted to punch Boring Guy. Thankfully, the idiot got up to use the bathroom, and East was done sitting back and watching this mess.

  He was going in. Part of his job as a search and rescue medic for the North Carolina area was to assess a situation and save damsels in distress. Okay, so it was more like assess the situation and save lives, but Hourglass definitely needed to be saved. All of his years learning and knowing women told him that.

  East made his way toward her at the bar, weaving around the packed area, casually holding his beer with one finger around the longneck and tipping his hat down just enough to shadow his eyes so that when he approached her, all she’d be hit with was his trademark smile, dimple included.

  Lucky for him, he did enjoy the hunt. And Honey’s was a massive old Victorian mansion that had been renovated into a huge restaurant and bar. It even had a few shops hidden within what were once bedrooms. So he moved stealthy and finally closed in on his prey.

  “Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?” he asked Hourglass as he came right up to her. All that long, chocolate hair smelled amazing, and damn, it looked thick and glossy. She clearly took care of herself. “Or maybe we can skip the drink and go straight for dessert,” he finished.

  He leaned in just as she turned to face him. Here it came…he unleashed the smile just as she faced him, and he caught her scent of vanilla, spice and—

  Oh shit…

  “East?” Hourglass’s voice wasn’t lyrical. It was penetrating and damn near shrieking. Mostly because that voice, which was tied to the hot bod of Hourglass, was none other than Natalie St. Claire, his childhood nemesis.

  She hit him with a glare, and East tried real hard to hit her with one back, but the dress she wore showed way too much cleavage, and he had a difficult time remembering why they’d never liked each other.

  “Did you just hit on me?” She spun in her stool to face him fully, and that glare turned to a scowl. “What the hell is the matter with you? Don’t think you’ll get my cupcakes for free just by tossing out any old line you use on all your other conquests.”

  Oh, right. Now he remembered. She was a mouthy pain in the ass. She’d treated him more like an older brother—one she hated—than she did her own actual brother, and that dynamic had never faded. It didn’t help that she was now her own boss with her own cupcake bakery. She had nobody to talk any sense into her.

  Normally he had no problem accepting that they were natural enemies, except that tonight there was nothing normal about Miss Natalie. She was smoking hot. She’d ditched her messy pile of hair for sleek waves, and her oversize flour-covered apron for a sexy little dress. Which again, he shouldn’t be appreciating as much as he was, because she was Natalie Fucking St. Clair. Her last name was a damn legacy in the town, and her family was the only one he’d ever had.

  They’d taken him in when he was a young teenager. His dad had never been around, and his mom had barely been there, either. And then, when his mom had taken off and overdosed on her final drug bender, the St. Clairs had become his legal guardians. Lemon-Anne St. Clair was the only woman he really knew as a mom. She’d raised him. Nurtured him. He knew he was trash, as wrong a match for their high class as oil was for water, but they’d loved him anyway. He’d already been best friends with Matt at school, but after that, Matt had been like a brother, Natalie like his sister. Their parents like his parents. He owed everything to the St. Clairs, even if Lemon-Anne St. Clair sometimes liked to remind him of the fact a little too much.

  And when Waylon St. Claire passed away three years ago, they all grieved together as a family at losing their patriarch, the only father East had known.

  Which was why, even after he’d lain awake at night for years, unable to stop thinking about Natalie and how much he wanted her, he’d never pursued her. To the St. Clairs they were brother and sister. Hell, that was how East thought of them, too. It just wouldn’t be right.

  So yeah, little Natalie needed to get out of that little dress really damn quick before his not-so-little dick started hurting.

  And not in the way he wanted her out of it…

  “Sorry, darlin’. Never expected you to clean up so well.”

  And damn had she cleaned up well. He took another look. Couldn’t help himself. He was used to seeing Natalie in baggy jeans and an apron covered in some kind of mess, and thank god for that. He could see her as simply Nat, nothing else and nothing more. The cute little girl grown up into the cute town cupcake baker.

  But today? Tonight? Wearing that dress? Every ounce of desire he’d tamped down threatened to rise up.

  Get a hold of yourself!

  What the hell was wrong with him? The way she pushed his buttons, and the way he felt watching her go out with idiots from her teenage years to now had always come with the territory.

  Territory…like the uncharted territory that trailed right between some serious creamy cleavage—

  “Get out of that dress,” he muttered.

  “Excuse me?” she said and folded her arms over her chest.

  Great, that made the “territory” way more enticing to explore. Which was fine for him. But if it attracted more idiots like the one she’d been talking to, he’d never forgive himself.

  “I just don’t know why you’re dressed like that.”

  She glanced down at herself. “Um, because I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman and can dress myself in whatever I want, that’s why.”

  And there was that attitude. But he’d always dealt with her snark in fine fashion, and he’d deal with it now. No matter how much she delighted in pushing his buttons— She. Would. Not. Win.

  “Why are you staring at me?” she said.

  ’Cause you look like a fuckin’ bombshell.

  Then her green eyes went wide. “Oh God, is there something in my teeth?” She grabbed the butter knife next to her and examined her reflection.

  “Jesus, Natalie, this is date behavior?” he asked. And no, there was nothing in her perfectly straight white teeth. In fact, she had pristinely lined red lipstick. A very good look. But not on her, he reminded himself.

  She put the knife down. “Like you have room to critique—the one man in history who’s never been on an actual date,” those red lips shot back at him.

  “Hey, I’ve taken women to—”

  “Your truck?”

  She had a point there. “My truck is very nice. And besides, I’m sure I’ve taken a woman out for a meal before.”

  Though he couldn’t recall who or when. But surely he must have. Nevertheless, he wasn’t one to lead anyone on. The women he saw always knew upfront that he was a casual, one night at a time, no strings kind of guy. And if that one night happened in his truck, well then, who was he to deny a lady? Besides, he never treated them poorly. Ever. In fact, he took pride in being so direct with them from the get-go that a relationship was never on the table.

  He leaned his elbow on the bar and took another swig of his beer. “Why would you care anyway, Nat? You’re not even enjoying yourself.”

  She frowned at him. “How would you know?”

  “Because I saw you.”

  “Stalker,” she mumbled.

  “Observant,” he corrected. “It’s easy to see how awkward you are with that guy.” And how the man she was with clearly didn’t appreciate her the way he should. Why the hell would he look at another woman with Natalie in all her irritating beauty rig
ht in front of him?

  She opened her mouth like she was ready to argue, but then they both caught sight of Boring Guy.

  “Awkward,” she repeated, and for some reason East’s chest hurt for a second. It was the way she’d said that one word, like just the sound of the letters were distasteful. Her pretty, red-painted mouth turned down and her brows furrowed. She looked lost. Like she didn’t know what to say. Like…Jesus, like she was suddenly awkward with him. And he didn’t like it.

  But in true Natalie fashion, she shook off the expression and hustled off the bar stool.

  “What the—” East said, but he didn’t get any more words out, because the woman grabbed her purse and bolted around the back of the bar and toward the narrow hallway. She kept her head down to skirt past Boring Guy and make a beeline toward her cupcake shop.

  East didn’t know whether to call after her or chuckle at her discomfort. Natalie St. Clair had a stigma of being awkward and nervous, but somehow everyone’s best friend. Hell, giving her shit for being so fidgety had been half the fun for East and Matt when they were all teenagers. She’d always taken it in good stride, though. Always laughed along.

  Tonight she’d looked disappointed, though. Sad. And as much as he wanted to kick Boring Guy’s throat in for caring so little about giving her what she needed, he couldn’t forget that brief moment where she’d seemed at a loss for words with him. East and Natalie. No matter how much they’d gotten on each other’s nerves, she’d never been awkward with him. But something was different tonight. Something that had sent her out the bar without another word. Something that made every protective instinct in his body light on fire.

  He went after her.

  Natalie darted inside the quiet space of her cupcake shop and shut the door. It was dark, thank God, since she was closed and far enough away from the main restaurant and the hustle and bustle of the bar patrons. Gotta love this old mansion. It gave her the privacy she needed without her having to go more than a winding hallway away.

  The muffled sound of everyone talking off in the distance did little to calm her, so she busted open her secret stash of bourbon, reserved for her bourbon cupcakes, and took a few hefty swallows. She didn’t even bother turning on the lights. The low-lit hallway cast enough of a glow for her to see. Besides, she knew her small shop by heart—little display case in the front next to the checkout counter, and the prepping table, stoves, and endless counter space in the back.