His Southern Temptation Page 3

  “There is no way in hell I’m sleeping in there.” Lucky looked at her then. The pure, unadulterated horror etched on his features was comical, and she made a halfhearted attempt to mask her own giggle at the sight.

  “Yeah, I think I threw up a little when I said it.”

  He barked out a laugh and relaxed his stance enough for her to brush his abdomen with the back of her hand. His T-shirt was warm, soft, and clinging to the hard muscle underneath. He stiffened at her touch, his jaw tightening into a firm edge, eyes narrowed to slits of darkest blue in the dim light. She could almost hear the voice in his head rehearsing the million reasons why he was going to tell her no.

  Taylor took a half step closer, now able to fully explore the breadth of his chest with both hands. Lucky’s breath hitched when her fingernail grazed his nipple, and she almost took pity on him when his heartbeat kicked up another notch. She was faring no better—this proximity was making her hands shake, and the heat gathering in her belly was consuming her. Leaning up on tiptoe, she traced the line of his neck with her lips—not quite kissing, but enough pressure to leave goose bumps in her wake.

  “Stay with me.” Now she tasted him, punctuating her request with a small bite just below his ear, followed by a moist kiss to soothe the burn. He tasted so good—male, spicy, and accented by the tang of sweat. Her mouth watered as she mindlessly made her way to his mouth, unable to resist having more of what she’d sampled earlier on the parlor floor.

  His lips were supple and open for her. Warm, wet mouth, tongue like velvet as it tangled with hers. The arousal from their earlier encounter was only a banked fire, never fully extinguished, and now it flared back to life, making her burn. Her knees gave out, and Taylor bunched his shirt in one hand, the other one hooking into the waistband of his jeans to keep her from sliding down to the ground. One touch of his hard body and she couldn’t resist exploring further, her fingers dipping down to trace the rigid length of his cock through the soft denim. He was hot, filling her palm with the weight of his desire.

  The duffel bag hit the floor with a thud, freeing Lucky to weave his fingers in her hair, tugging gently to tilt her head at an angle to align their mouths better for a deeper, wetter kiss. This one was dark, filled with need and years of lust as he forcefully controlled the depth and pressure of the kiss—his passion taking it to the sharp edge of total possession. She whimpered, the sound echoing off the walls and matching the trembling in her body as she threw herself into this moment with the man who’d haunted her dreams for half her life.

  She knew how good it was between them, and it made this all the hotter.

  Lucky rotated them until the cool plaster of the wall was against her back, and the contrast made her shiver, but she didn’t stay cool for long. Her temperature shot up to fever levels once more when he pressed between her legs, roughly hoisting her a fraction higher so that his hard cock fit perfectly against her sex. She cried out at the impact, jolts of pleasure rocketing up her spine. It felt so good she had no choice but to grind back against him, her body seeking release and needing to make him just as crazy.

  “Fuck, Tay. Are you trying to kill me tonight?” Lucky pulled back, his voice gruff and punctuated by rapid pants of air against her cheek. He also sounded angry, frustrated, and ready to explode. She knew exactly how to take care of that little problem.

  “What? You worried a little girl is going to be the one to take down the big, bad Marine?”

  He laughed. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Stay with me. Come to bed.”

  No answer.

  She wasn’t above cajoling. Begging was a different question, but cajoling she could do. “Come on. For old time’s sake.”

  He sighed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You’re not supposed to think.” She trailed her hand down his chest, the pounding of his heart a tattoo against her palm. “Just a little fun between friends.”

  “Just friends, huh? Are you sure about that?”

  He lifted her hand to press a hot kiss to the palm, his tongue lingering on the sensitive spot in the middle. She shuddered under the press of his lips and the hot fire in his eyes. She’d seen that look before and it still scared her, made her nervous.

  Something between them had shifted over time, becoming less about fun and games and more about the electric current of connection that stretched between the two of them like hot wire. She’d fought it. He’d appeared willing to explore it. She’d panicked. He’d left. Fast-forward two years to now.

  The last thing she wanted was to get her foolish heart involved with this man. Love was fleeting; marriage and relationships devolved into humiliating compromise and pain. She’d learned that the hard way, firsthand and in graphic detail.

  Definitely not on her agenda.

  Unless it was mindless hours in bed, getting sweaty and exorcising this thing between them, she wasn’t interested. But it looked like Lucky was up for more, and they were once again at a possible impasse.

  She sighed, stepping back to give them a little space.

  “I can’t do this.” He motioned between them.

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Does it matter?” His tone was pure frustration, matching her mood as well.

  “Yes, I think it does.”

  “How long are you going to be here?” He surprised her with the change in topic.

  “Two weeks. Three tops.” Taylor crossed her arms over her chest, the sinking feeling in her stomach increasing with the way his expression shut down even more with each word she uttered. “Just long enough to pack and store what won’t be sold with the house.”

  “Your parents are selling Elliott House?” He was genuinely shocked. Apparently Teague had done a good job of hiding some of their dirty laundry from this town.

  “Father isn’t coming back from his tacky love nest in Costa Rica, and Mother will not return to the scene of her public humiliation. Apparently, my father violated the most important marriage vow when he ran off with his paralegal.”

  “What vow is that?”

  “To be discreet.” She tried to curb the venom in her voice, but the situation of her parents’ divorce did nothing but piss her off with its sordidness. If their fake marriage hadn’t been enough cause for her to swear off relationships, the divorce sealed her dislike of the institution entirely.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid I do. Not everyone grew up on Promised Land farm.”

  That was a low blow. Ashamed, she bit her tongue to stop anything uglier from spilling from her lips. His parents’ marriage appeared to be one of the rare ones that was going to last, but his life hadn’t been perfect. Hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do—he’d seen enough pain in his lifetime.

  She continued, speaking mainly to fill the heavy silence and make up for her foolish tongue. “I’m just here to get the house ready for sale so I can get my cut of the proceeds and go back to Hawaii to start my massage therapy business. There’s a tight window of time since my investment opportunity expires in a few weeks, but we’ve already got a couple of folks interested in the house so the Realtor believes it will be a quick sale.”

  “There’s no chance of you staying in Elliott?”

  “No.” This town held nothing but memories of how she’d been tricked into playing the part of the best little girl in the world—complete with matching sweater sets and the perfect fiancé. Every corner held a part of the past she’d spent seven years burying under a life lived on her own terms.

  “So, you want a three-week booty call? Scratch an itch while you’re here in town?” Lucky shook his head, laughing roughly as he stooped to grab the duffel off the floor and headed down the hall, walking past her room to stop in front of Teague’s door.

  She followed, knowing she wasn’t going to win him over tonight but taking the chance to plant seeds in his mind of what was on offer. She had three weeks to wear him down…

  �
��Lucky, it would be more than that. We’re friends, not some random bar pickup.” She ducked under the arm he had propped against the doorframe, sidling up close but not touching. In the intimate circle created by their bodies, she dropped her voice, forcing him to lean down to catch her words. “It’s been a long time. I miss you.”

  “What happened to the good girl who grew up in this house?” His voice was low, more of a growl than actual words, and she barely managed to keep her hands to herself with the heat it shot through her veins.

  “I gave up being good a long time ago. You know that.” She risked trailing one finger down his chest, over the ridges of muscle on his abdomen, ending with a gentle tug on the waistband of his jeans and a fleeting caress of the hard-on just below. His sharp inhale of breath was her reward. “It isn’t like we haven’t shared a bed before. What’s the problem?”

  “That wasn’t here in Elliott and it was before…” He stopped, pressing his lips into a firm line as if he forcefully kept the rest of his words from spilling out.

  She didn’t ask the next logical question. She knew why it was different, and it scared the hell out of her. They wanted different things from what lived and breathed between them.

  “Shit. I am in so much trouble.” He dropped his head to his chest, his dark laugh shaking his shoulders. “Your brother would kill me for even having this conversation with you.”

  “I’m not going to tell him.”

  “Listen, I’m here to fix things, get my shit together, and you’re just one big complication I can’t handle right now. Taking you to bed is something the old Lucky would do.” He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, shifting her to the side and out of his path to the safe place behind the door. “The new Lucky is going to bed. Alone.”

  “You’re running away?”

  “I’m beat. I’m covered in stripper glitter, I’ve almost been shot, I was lectured by the local sheriff at gunpoint, and you aren’t wearing any underwear.” He rubbed a hand over his face, the stubble rasping loudly in the still of the night. He really did look exhausted. With one good shove, he’d probably fall over and sleep on the floor. “A good soldier knows when to make a tactical retreat in order to fight another day.”

  “Fine.” It wasn’t a final no. She could live with it for now. Taylor stepped up, weaving her fingers through his hair to pull him down for the briefest of kisses. They pressed their foreheads together, and she cherished the moment to just soak in his warmth and the combination of musk and saddle leather that was always pure Lucky. It reminded her of the few afternoons spent on the Landon farm, soaking up the sun and the peace. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  Lucky nudged her lips up for another whisper of a kiss before turning the doorknob and pushing the door open to her brother’s old room. He shot her a glance over his shoulder, his blue eyes filled with affection and a hint of the sizzle that made her insides melt. “Next time, do me a favor and put on some panties.”

  Laughing, she shuffled down the hall as his door closed with a firm click. She’d be fortunate to get a couple of hours of sleep with the arousal buzzing in her veins and the knowledge that he slept in the room at the other end of a Jack-and-Jill bathroom. No worries—she’d use the time to plan. Fate had dropped Lucky in her lap, and it was her goal to ensure that she went back to Hawaii with enough memories of him to last a lifetime. Her mind was a disco, tons of ideas dancing around and doing the Electric Slide.

  And none of them involved wearing underwear.

  Chapter Four

  Why was it that you remembered everything from your childhood as being so much bigger?

  Taylor sat behind the desk where her father had spent the better part of thirty years practicing law and playing mayor of Elliott. She kicked off her flip-flops and propped her feet up on the desk, her inner child blowing a big raspberry at the voice in her head telling her to sit like a lady. The office was large and the desk adequately sized for a solo practitioner—definitely not the forbidding monolith she dreaded standing in front of when she was in trouble. Not that it had happened very often.

  Now, she waited in her father’s former office, ready to work with her brother to fix the mess he’d left behind.

  “She’s here?”

  Teague’s voice rumbled from just beyond the door, his low baritone distinctive and clipped as he spoke to Jerline, the receptionist his father had left behind with his practice and a bunch of pissed-off clients. Taylor’s stomach clenched tightly, the sharp edge of the reaction surprising her. She was nervous to see her own brother. There was something really wrong and sad about that. They’d been close at one time, but distance, time, and opposing views about the way to live had created a gap she’d been unable to close over the years.

  Teague’s footsteps grew louder as he headed toward the door, and before she was ready, he filled the opening. Tall, built like the runner he was with long limbs and whipcord muscles, her brother was a long line of tension from the tips of his toes to the pinched corners of his hazel eyes.

  “Mary-Taylor.” He moved fully into the room, setting the briefcase down on the floor beside the couch and standing across the room, his gaze flickering between her face and the place where her feet rested on the desk. He wouldn’t make the first move. Teague was like their father in that way, so she popped up from behind the desk and vaulted over it to tackle-hug her big brother.

  Her heart sank a little in her chest when he remained unmoving, hesitating a fraction of a second before his arms lifted and wrapped tightly around her frame. She hugged him hard. She couldn’t cover seven years of distance in this one hug, but she was sure as hell taking the first step.

  “Hey, Boo.” Teague buried his face in her shoulder, hugging her tight and using her childhood nickname. The wetness on her lashes was a surprise. She wasn’t a crier, and she wasn’t really sure what they were about. But there were so many damn things to cry about lately. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  “Your last voice mail sounded like you were going to set fire to everything and watch it burn if you didn’t get some help.” She released him, the awkwardness once again edging back into the space between their bodies. “I hitched the first plane off the big island. You know how much I love a bonfire. I even brought marshmallows.”

  “Right.” Teague stepped around her, easing behind the desk to lower himself into the chair. He looked so much like their father at that moment—successful, confident, the king of the world—or at least this little corner of it. In fact, he looked really good. Life in DC was treating him well, she supposed. When he smiled, she saw a little bit of the big brother she remembered, and it eased the residual tension in her chest.

  “How long are you here?”

  “About three weeks. It’s all I can spare from the spa.” She paused to laugh at the face he pulled, his lips twisting into a grimace. She wasn’t sure if it was aimed at the shortness of her visit or her choice in occupation. Teague didn’t think she was using her college degree to the level she should—another thing that contributed to the distance between them. “But I wanted to come help with the house. I figure I can get it packed up and cleaned out.”

  “Oh, thank you baby Jesus.” He reached up and loosened his tie, relaxing back into the leather seat. “I hired packers, but I didn’t know how I was going to get it all sorted. There is a ton of shit in that house—expensive shit, but a ton of it.”

  “No sweat. I’ll trash what needs to go, store what we want to keep, and sell the rest. I’m highly motivated. I need the money.” Taylor plopped down on the couch, her feet going up on the coffee table. She gave Teague points for not telling her to take them off. It was killing him. His jaw tightened and the muscle jumping there gave away the effort it took to remain quiet. She stretched, loosening up her lower back from a night spent in a strange bed. “With the cash from the sale, I can buy into a spa in Honolulu. I’ve got a group of investors and they’ve given me a sweetheart deal with a tight deadline to accept or reje
ct it. Can you look at the papers for me?”

  “Sure, no problem.” He rummaged in the desk drawer, emerging with a stick of gum he popped into his mouth, and offered her one as well. “So, you won’t be staying?”

  “Now you sound like Lucky.” She tried to keep the pout out of her voice.

  “Oh, hell. Lucky’s staying at the house.” Recollection flashed across his face, quickly replaced by an apology. “You okay with that? You can stay with me in the apartment upstairs if you don’t want to stay there with him. I’m back and forth to DC so we won’t be tripping over each other.”

  She waved him off, the movement hopefully masking the flutter in her stomach and the heat rising in her cheeks. “We’re good. After I put the gun away, we worked out the sleeping arrangements.” She left out the groping on the floor and her invitation to share a bed. Teague would freak if he knew how different their sleeping arrangements had been in the past. It was part of his brotherly bossiness.

  “What gun?”

  “Father’s Smith & Wesson from the study.” She waved off his look of horror. Hell, Teague had taught her to use the gun when she was kid—he better believe she was going to use it if needed. “It’s a long story.”

  “Shit, Taylor. Can you try not to cause any trouble while you’re here? Some of us still care about what people think about the Elliotts in this town.” His expression hardened as he barely kept his temper in check. “I’m fixing the mess he left behind with this practice, and I don’t need anything else on my plate.”

  Ouch. She sat up a little straighter, refusing to give an inch on this argument. Teague applauded her choice to leave Bobby—her cheating bastard of a fiancé—at the altar, but he disapproved of everything she’d done after that day. Her lifestyle, her occupation, and her decisions in general didn’t live up to the Elliott family standard of decorum.

  If he knew that just this morning she’d gotten a stripper job at the Jolly Gent to help Lucky find that missing girl, he’d keel over and die of shock. He’d have good company, because she was pretty sure Lucky would kick it when he found out what she’d done.