His Southern Temptation(8)

By: Robin Covington

“So, I guess we need to discuss our sleeping arrangements,” she said.

She edged into his personal space, amused when he took a step backward. It looked as though her big, bad Marine was a little worried about her intentions. Smart man. She’d proven to herself the past seven years that she controlled her own life and her emotions. Sleeping with Lucky didn’t have to be anything but blowing off a little steam. She wouldn’t be here long enough to risk any of the unnecessary emotional entanglements that marred their last time together.

“I’ll take the guest room.” Avoiding eye contact with her, Lucky shifted the duffel bag toward the front of his body in an obvious attempt to keep some distance between the two of them. She bit back a laugh; pissing him off wouldn’t help her make her case. When he turned toward the direction of the guest room, she touched his forearm, instantly enjoying the warmth of his skin under the dusting of hair. His muscles jumped at her touch and the rapid pulse point in his wrist proved he wasn’t as cool as he looked.

“The guest room has no furniture in it. Mother took it when she left.” She motioned down to the opposite end of the hall. “Your options are Mother and Father’s roo—”

“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.