Guilty Cravings (The Steamy South 1) (8 page)

BOOK: Guilty Cravings (The Steamy South 1)
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“That’s kind of an
odd expression since we’re in a car and there are no elephants for miles.”
Emily hoped to change the subject to anything else.

Nick held back a
grin, but she saw it in his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

His playful,
mischievous expression made her heart race with excitement. Why did he have to
be so gorgeous and tempting?

“I’d rather we
didn’t.” She forced herself to stare out the car’s side window at the passing
pines, hoping he’d drop the subject. Talking about this morning’s incident
would only arouse her again. And she didn’t want to be aroused, dammit.
Besides, he’d rejected her. What was he trying to do now, rub it in?

All through breakfast
back at the hotel earlier that morning, in between wolfing down his bacon, eggs
and a stack of pancakes, he’d sent a few potent glances her way, as if he was
still thinking about the erotic episode. Her stomach had knotted so badly she
could hardly eat a bite. Obviously, he’d been trying not to look at her, so
when he did it was like triple the intensity.

Her body still burned
from his hands stroking her all over. Earlier, she’d taken a hot shower to try
to erase the memory of his touch. But she couldn’t. It was almost as if he was
branded into her skin.

His fingers lightly
gripping the steering wheel now as he drove caught her attention. He had big
strong hands, and beautiful forearms with a light sprinkling of blondish-brown
hair. And his muscular, tattooed biceps made her fingers itch with the need to
stroke them. Why did she find his arms so sexy? Who was she kidding? Nick was a
total sex package. Everything about him looked delectable.

“Don’t worry about
it, okay? It was no big deal.” His tone was casual, relaxed.

“No big deal?” Of
course the most extraordinary orgasm of her life was no big deal to him. It was
only a few strokes of his fingers, after all. He had no clue about the powerful
sensations he’d propelled through her or how close she’d been to begging him to
slide his gorgeous cock deep inside her. She almost moaned imagining how
amazing that would feel.

“You want it to be a
big deal?” he asked, lifting a brow and glancing at her curiously.

“No. No, of course
not.”
Wizen up, Emily, and stop sending him mixed signals. And most of all,
stop thinking about his cock.

She couldn’t get
involved with him for many reasons. One, he likely went through women like he
did boxes of condoms. Two, he was too much like Jared. She definitely didn’t
want a repeat of that disastrous relationship. Sullivans sucked at commitment.

Why was she thinking
of commitment anyway? If she were to have anything with him it would only be a
quick fling. Fierce sex against the wall or on a counter. He’d have forgotten
her by the next day.

She could go for the
fierce sex, but she didn’t want to be forgotten.

“Okay,” he said,
glancing into the rearview. “I don’t want you to worry about it. I won’t tell
anyone. And I won’t do it again.” He paused. “Hell, that’s a lie. I’ll try my
damnedest not to do it again.”

Heat rushed over her.
Did he have to be so honest? Did that mean he wanted to do it again? Hope and
renewed excitement surged through her. Her heart palpitated. Her pussy grew wet
and tingly, craving the stroke of his indulgent fingers. Or his impressive
cock.

Stupid! I’m just
being stupid, eating up his bad boy charm.

That morning in bed,
he’d gotten up and walked away from her, proving he could easily resist her.
Clearly, she couldn’t resist him. She’d exploded within seconds. Now, he
probably thought she was slutty. But that wasn’t the case at all. She hadn’t
had real sex in so long she’d practically forgotten what it felt like. If
anything, she was pathetically deprived. Sure, she had sex toys, but those cold
pieces of plastic could never measure up to a real flesh-and-blood man like
Nick, with his hot cock. He had been so unbelievably hard this morning. Because
of her? Or did he simply have morning-wood every day when he woke up? Probably
the later; he was an oversexed horn-dog. At least he'd proved he could control
himself, much to her embarrassment.

“You never told me
how you ended up in bed with me,” she said.

He shrugged and kept
his eyes on the road. “I needed some sleep. The sofa was too short. I thought
if I slept on the bed, I’d wake up before you and slip away without you even
knowing it.”

Was he being honest?
She’d known he would need some sleep. And she’d even offered him the whole bed.
He’d refused, then changed his mind later.

“It didn’t quite work
out that way,” she said.

He smirked. “No. When
I woke up, you were
right there
.”

“Is that so? Well,
for your information, you were the one who was
right there
, mister, on
my side. You slid over next to me,” she accused.

“Maybe I got cold.
Or…” He grinned, flicking a wicked glance her way. “Maybe my subconscious mind
knew what I wanted.”

He wanted her? So,
why did he abandon her in bed? A blush seared her skin, head to toe. She
refused to ask that burning question. Really, it wouldn’t have been to her
benefit to have more than he gave her. Who knew if he even had a condom?

“Well, I don’t know
what came over me,” she said. “I don’t normally do things like that.”

“I know.”

“You do? How?”

He shrugged again.
Clearly that action was a big part of his communication skills. “Going by what
I know about you. You don’t strike me as a nympho slut.”

She smacked his arm.
Okay, maybe it was simply an excuse to touch his muscular, tattooed biceps.

“I meant that as a
compliment.” He had a playful way of glaring and grinning at the same time that
made her want to smile. But she didn’t. Instead, she huffed and stared out the
window again.

“You want to be a
nympho slut?” he inquired.

“No! But I’m not a
prude either.” Like Jared had labeled her. He’d called her vanilla in bed,
which was one reason she’d experimented with sex toys after the divorce. “I’m a
woman with a normal, healthy sexual appetite.”

“Ah hell,” he
muttered and scrubbed a hand against his beard stubble.

“What?” She’d give a
twenty-dollar bill to know what he was thinking right now.

He shook his head.
“Nothing.”

But clearly he was
lying. Maybe he was mulling over her healthy sexual appetite.

“I’ve never thought
you were a prude. You’re a hell of a sexy woman.” Nick’s words and his husky
tone sent a flush of arousal over her, making her remember her scorching
response to him in bed.

“You wouldn’t have
said that before this morning.”

“Yeah, I would have."
He sent her a dark, smoldering glance, but it was the sincerity she saw there
that stole her breath. "What can I say? You’re hot as hell. And I’ve
thought you were from the first moment I met you.”

Oh my god.
How could he say such a thing?
Her sweltering blush returned, intensified and her body flushed with arousal.
“Oh. Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He was hot too, but
she couldn’t tell him that. This couldn’t turn into a mutual admiration
society, or he might pull onto the shoulder and they’d get it on right there.
She craved another kiss from him, yearned for the taste of him and the way his
lips and tongue had taunted hers.

Her arousal
escalated, making her body tingle and ache. She felt like using some of his
frustrated curse words.

What he’d said about
the first time they’d met brought back memories of the night she’d seen him
nude, having sex with another woman. Emily would die of mortification if he
ever learned she'd been watching like a naughty voyeur from behind the closet
door. She hadn't been able to pull her gaze away from the delectable sight of
him—his muscular chest and abs, when he’d stripped off his jacket and shirt.
After he removed the kilt, his impressive cock had been jutting out while her
bridesmaid licked it like an ice cream cone.

Naked, he’d been so
primal and all-male she couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't look away.
Definitely a human animal…one she craved with every instinctive urge inside
her.

Emily’s cell phone
rang, the contemporary love song startling her out of her erotic memories. Her
hands unsteady, she yanked the phone from her purse. The display told her it
was Tia, her friend and business partner.

After tapping the
screen, she placed it against her ear. “Hello, Tia.”

“Where are you?”

“About halfway
between Atlanta and Savannah.” Emily went on to tell Tia about the nut-job who
broke into her house and threatened her and how she went to Atlanta to ask for
Nick’s help. Her stomach ached as she remembered all the terrifying events.

“Oh my god! Are you
okay?” Tia asked.

“Yes. Nick’s a cop
and he’s been a great help to me.”

“I’m glad he’s
protecting you. I remember Nick from your wedding. The best man, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he still edible?”

Emily glanced aside
at Nick, taking in his broad shoulders stretching the white T-shirt. She wished
she could lift it and check out his chiseled abs. Something else caught her
attention—the package evident in the crotch of his jeans and his muscular
thighs filling out the legs of his jeans nicely.
Oh yeah.
“Kinda.”

“He’s listening to
you, isn’t he?” Tia guessed.

Emily lifted her gaze
to find him flicking a smoky-hot, yet enigmatic, glance at her. She quickly
turned toward the window. “Yes.”

“I’ll drop by your
house later this evening.”

Why would Tia want to
do that, to check out Nick? Not that Emily would be jealous or anything. She
certainly didn’t have her sights set on him.

So what if her
conscience condemned her as a horrid liar?

“I want to bring you
something,” Tia went on.

“Okay. Hmm, I wonder
what it could be?”

“It’s a surprise.
Something you like.”

“Well, thanks for
thinking of me. And please don’t tell anyone what’s been going on. I don’t want
them to worry, and we don’t know who’s responsible yet.”

“I won’t. And I’m
glad Nick will be there to protect you,” Tia said in a suggestive voice.

“So am I.” But Emily
also wondered what else he would do to her besides protect her.

* * * *

The killer had said
he’d call back today, Emily remembered when she glanced at her kitchen phone.
Chills covered her skin and nausea surged. Had he already tried to call while
she was gone? She didn’t know if she could eat the takeout from her favorite
Italian restaurant that she and Nick had picked up on the way into Savannah.

As soon as they’d
arrived, Nick had searched her house to make sure no one was inside. The board
was still nailed over the broken window by the back door.

Her hands unsteady,
she served up the salad and lasagna onto white china.

The doorbell rang.
She froze, her pulse rate skyrocketing. Was that the killer? No, maybe it was
Tia. She would look through the peephole to be sure. She headed from the
kitchen to the living room.

“Wait!” Nick barked
the order behind her.

She halted mid-stride
and turned. He exited the downstairs guest suite she’d suggested he stay in.
“It’s probably Tia,” she said. At least she hoped it was. “I was going to look
out before I opened it.”

“Let me see.” He
peered out the peephole. “She doesn’t look too dangerous.” He motioned Emily
toward the door.

“I’ll tell her you
said that.”

One side of his lips
quirked and his lashes lowered. His gaze turned smoldering.

Stop flirting with
him, you dimwit.

Emily yanked open the
door and Tia entered, all smiles as usual. Her short brunette hair fit her
perky personality, as did her polka dot shorts outfit. She pushed two bottles
of chilled red wine into Emily’s hands. “Thought I’d share. Mom brought me a
few bottles from the winery she visited last weekend. I remembered how much you
loved this stuff last year.”

“Thanks.” Though
she’d planned on serving iced tea and avoiding alcohol around Nick. Who knew if
she’d be able to control herself with wine in her system? “You remember Nick.
Nick, this is my good friend and business partner, Tia.”

They shook hands, Tia
beaming as if she didn’t often get to see hotties like Nick. Well, she probably
didn’t.

“Yes, I remember Nick
from the wedding. Nice to see you again.”

“You too.”

“Em, you have to show
me that new pair of shoes you bought,” Tia said. “I’ve been dying to see them.”

“Um.” Emily almost
asked her what she was talking about, then realized she wanted to talk in
private. “They’re in my closet. We’ll be right back,” she told Nick. “Why don’t
you go ahead and start eating? I know you’re starving. And open one of these if
you want.” She handed the bottles of wine to Nick.

BOOK: Guilty Cravings (The Steamy South 1)
7.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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