The Trouble with Temptation (16 page)

“Sweet talker.” She tossed the rest of the cognac back and then, with the lazy grace of a cat, she climbed on top of him.

The wet heat of her cunt closed around him and he grunted in pleasure as she leaned forward. He caught one small nipple in his mouth, but had to release it when she sat back down. “Something for you…” She wiggled astride him and then held up the cognac and splashed more into her snifter. “And something for me.”

He arched up, driving into her as she splashed a healthy pour into the glass. She gasped and he said, “I’ve already got something for you, love.”

“Don’t you just? I’m greedy, though. I want it all.”

He took the cognac and sat up, wrapping one arm around her hips and tucking her in tight against him. She clamped around him, whimpering a little. Her eyes were already glassy. He took the bottle, taking a long, heavy drag from it.

“Don’…” She shuddered, then tried again. “Don’t you go … drinkin’ it all, you … sexy son of a bitch.”

He put it down on the table, just enough off center that he could hit it and send it to the floor when he stood. He wasn’t about to drink any more, but he didn’t want her having more alcohol in her system either. This would kill two birds with one stone. The lingering stink of alcohol in the air when she woke up would only add to her disorientation.

Then, smiling at her, he caught her hips and lifted her up. “Shut up already.”

She laughed and drank the rest of her cognac before tossing the snifter onto the bed. “Make me.”

He did.

*   *   *

She was trying to slide into unconsciousness when he sat her up.

Her pupils were wide and heavily dilated.

“Ellie,” he said, tapping her cheek.

She gave him a sweet smile. “Hi. You’re…” she sighed and reached for him, missing him by a mile. “You’re boo … beautiful. Beautiful. Why can’t my husband want me like you do?”

“I’m sure he does, Ellie,” he told her. “He just isn’t as good in the sack as some men are. You’ll just have to be patient and teach him.”

She pursed her lips and then nodded. “I can teach him. I’m smart, you know.” She hiccupped. “I’m a doctor. I gotsa … I gotta be smart. I’ll teach him.”

“Yes, love.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Hannah saw you today.”

“Hannah…” Her forehead crumpled and then cleared. “She’s pregnant. Silly girl. Doesn’t remember. How can you forget fucking a man like Brannon?
I
wouldn’t.”

“Amnesia, right? She has amnesia?”

“My patient.” She twisted, trying to pull. Her lashes drooped and he had to cup her chin, guide her face back to his. Tears flooded her gaze. “I have to protect my patients, baby. I don’t talk…”

“No, no.” He leaned in and shushed her, pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “You are protecting her. I’m worried about her, too. I’m scared for her. What if she saw somebody that night? If she did, she could be in trouble. We need to make sure she’s safe. If she’s remembering anything, we have to make sure she tells the cops, right?”

“But she’s not.” The troubled expression on Ellison’s face cleared. “She can’t remember.” With the blind sincerity of a naïve child, the drugged doctor nodded. “She’s not remembering. It makes her so mad but she can’t member—
re
member.”

“Do you think she will?” he asked patiently.

Ellison’s head slumped.

He shook her slightly. “Ellie, don’t sleep yet. This is important.”

She blinked and looked around blearily. “I’m sleepy,” she said. Then she sighed. “The mind is silly, honey. Nobody knows. She don’t know. I doesn’t—” She giggled and clapped a hand over her mouth as though amused by her drunken, drugged speech. “
I doesn’t!
”

Hooting with laughter, she collapsed on her side.

He watched for a moment, amused.

Then he rose and shook his head.

She was still laughing when he left to get her some water from the fridge. He checked the time. He should have time to make her eat something before he left. He had other matters to attend to.

*   *   *

“I was thinking maybe you could spend the night.” Hannah kept her gaze locked ahead as she said the words, told herself that it was more than past time and it wasn’t like they hadn’t already gotten involved in a sexual relationship. She
was
past her first trimester after all.

Brannon didn’t say anything for the longest time and she told herself to wait, just wait.

The music of the crickets chirping, the call of birds, everything else faded away in a rush of heat when he tugged her to a stop and pulled her up against him. “Spend the night, huh?” He curled an arm around her waist and studied her. “You mean like a slumber party, Hannah?”

“Sure. The naked kind.” Hannah suddenly had a hard time pulling in enough oxygen, her tank top clinging to her, although it wasn’t particularly hot out. It was mid-September and fall was finally coming to Mississippi, bringing moderately cooler days and softer nights. Still, she felt like she’d been plunged into a steam bath.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Are you interested?”

“Hmmm.” He caught a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing at it.

They’d gone on a walk. It had been her idea. Brannon had developed a habit of showing up on her doorstep in the evenings and today, after her unexpected half-shift, she’d come home to find him waiting on the front steps with a clutch of wildflowers and a box of pizza.

They’d eaten the pizza right there and then he’d waited for her to change before they’d left to take their walk.

Hannah tried to pretend just being this close wasn’t making her come out of her skin. She wanted him until she was blind to everything else, deaf to everything else.

Parts of her body burned, as though those places he’d touched seemed have the sensory memory of their times together. That missing week caused a void in her mind, but she didn’t let herself think about it too often. She understood one thing and as far as she was concerned, that was all that mattered.

Hannah loved Brannon McKay.

She’d loved him for half of her life and suddenly he was there.

But the light, easy kisses weren’t enough. She wanted so much more. Now, in the small grove filled with picnic tables, the river sparkling under the moon, she stared at him and made up her mind. It was well past the time they stop dancing around each other.

Brannon might not know it yet, but that was fine.

She’d just clue him in along the way.

There was still enough light for her to see his face, though, and the saturnine smile that curved his lips. “A naked kind of party, huh?”

She slid her gaze to his mouth, licked her own. “That’s the plan. What do you think?”

As he continued to watch her, she backed up and rested her hips against the edge of the nearest table. Brannon echoed her steps. She ended up with her hips on the surface of the picnic table, her feet propped up on the bench and him leaning into her, a pleased smile curling his lips.

“You got any entertainment in mind for this … party?” he asked.

“Oh, lots.” She reached up and curled her hand in the placket of his button down shirt. “I was thinking I could take a long, lazy ride. Followed by a nice hot shower. Since you’re my guest, you’d have to join me. I don’t want to be rude.”

His green eyes seemed to glow for a moment, brilliant with hunger.

“Damn,” he said, his voice low and raw. “That sounds like a fine idea.”

He leaned in and nuzzled her neck.

She fought the urge to close her eyes.

When his mouth slid up higher along the curve of her neck, she sighed in pleasure. “Is this a yes?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. What else did you have in mind? I like to know in advance.”

She laughed. The sound ended in a moan as he caught her ear between his teeth and tugged. “You never like to know anything in advance, pal.”

“Sure I do. Like … what are you wearing under these jeans?”

He straightened up and stared at her.

“I’ll tell you … in exchange for a favor,” she said, grinning at him.

He kissed her, hard and deep, the hunger firing her own. She moved against him, liquid heat spreading through her. His name was an endless chant in her mind and when he pulled away, she reached for him. He caught her wrists and kissed her hands, first one, then the other. “If I keep this up, I’ll forget where we are, Hannah.”

She panted, staring at him. Then she nodded, swallowing down a groan when she squirmed on the table. She was wet, so wet for him she could feel it, and it had her panties sliding against her when she moved around.

“So?”

She blinked up at him. “So … what?”

“What are you wearing under these jeans?”

Now she smiled at him. “Well, you still owe me a favor. I wasn’t going to ask for a kiss. You see, I need an answer about that party invite.”

“Is that a fact?” Brannon stood there, hovering so close she could feel his breath against her lips.

She breathed in and it seemed to draw him in. Maybe she swayed forward. She didn’t know. But he was just
there
and his mouth was …

She groaned and then they were kissing and
this
 …
this
was familiar.

His tongue slid along her lips and she opened. Moving in closer, she curled an arm around his neck. He was tall, but Hannah wasn’t a small woman and she was glad of it. She only had to stretch a little to meet him and he made it easy by curving an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

His mouth slanted over hers and he tugged her lower body closer even as he leaned in, pressing against hers. They fit. They fit
so
well … she knew that though, didn’t she?

Maybe I don’t like being your morning entertainment—

The words bounced around in her head, disjointed and not making sense. She shoved them away, curling her fingers into Brannon’s shirt almost desperately.

One big hand plunged into her hair and he nipped at her lower lip then sucked it into his mouth, running his tongue along the curve.

It was an intimate, rough sort of kiss and it sent hungry little shivers racing through her.

Her belly went tight and then hunger pulsed in her as she felt his cock throbbing against her.

“I’d love to spend the night, Hannah,” Brannon said against her ear.

Her head fell to the side and she clung to him, the strength in her legs dissolving.

He slid one hand under her shirt. She gasped, the contact shocking. His skin was hot. It wasn’t exactly cool out, but the feel of his skin on hers was something that went beyond heat. It went beyond intimacy.

It went beyond
everything
.

She wanted more, needed more—

Opening her mouth, she sucked in the breath to tell him they needed to get the hell out of there.

Tires squealed.

*   *   *

Drunk on the taste of her, it took Brannon a few seconds to process the fact that things weren’t as they should be.

Now he liked to think he was a quick thinker and he was pretty certain his survival instincts were as good as anybody else’s. He liked breathing.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he jerked his head up as the squeal of rubber grew louder and instinct kicked in. Grabbing Hannah, he wrenched her toward him and threw her to the ground. They rolled and she screamed and he swore.

The one thing he knew for certain was that somebody had deliberately pointed a car toward them.

Sucking air in as fast as he could, he shoved his weight up off Hannah and stared at the bumper of the car as it whipped a right onto Market—already two blocks away and too far for him to make out the license plate. He knew the make. One thing Brannon knew was his cars.

It was a Crown Victoria, black, tinted windows.

About as run of the mill as they came.

Hannah made a low noise. He tore his gaze away from the road and focused on her.

“Are you okay?”

She grumbled. That sound alone reassured him.

“I think so,” she said. She pushed up onto her elbows and looked around. “I—”

Before she could finish, a shout interrupted them, followed by the slam of a car door. “Hey! Are y’all okay? I just called 9-1-1 … shit, Brannon, is that you? Hannah?”

She closed her eyes and lay back on the ground.

Brannon resisted the urge to stroke her hair as he levered onto his knees and met the eyes of the Good Samaritan.

*   *   *

“No pizza?”

Alison grinned at Marc. “I’m not hungry.”

“What about a drink down at the pub then? They got a pretty decent wine list.” Marc wagged his eyebrows. “Soon, it will be even better.”

“No.” She huffed out a breath that sent her bangs drifting up, before they came back down to hang in her eyes again. “Honestly, I would, but today…”

Marc looked away. “Yeah. Today.” He tipped his head up to the starry sky that stretched out over them like a blanket. “What can we possibly say about today?”

“It was interesting.” Alison delivered those words with complete and utter sincerity.

“Interesting.” He snorted.

“And it sucked.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, trying not to think about the look the senator had given her on his way out the door. All she wanted to do was lock herself up inside her cute little house out on the river and grab a pint of Häagen-Dazs, curl up on her couch, and forget today had happened.

She’d deal with all the emails and phone calls tomorrow. Or maybe Sunday. She was off for the whole weekend. She could have one day to totally veg out and pretend the world didn’t exist, right?

Marc looked so crestfallen, though. Pushing off her car, she acted on the impulse that had been living inside her for the past two months. Grabbing him by the collar, she tugged him down.

He stiffened in surprise.

And then, as she kissed him, he made a funny little
hmmmm
under his breath.

Alison had sworn off men six months ago after her ex had emptied her bank account and taken off with her ex-best friend. But she’d known within a few weeks that Marc was worth breaking the rules for. She just had to make
him
see that, make him realize they had something going on between them besides this … friendship.