The Case For Temptation. Robyn Grady
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Who was she to complain?
But there were things she wanted for him, too, and precious minutes were flying by. There was no time to lose. So she slid a palm down over that ripped six-pack and curled her fingers around the part of him that so badly wanted to play.
His jaw grazed her temple as he groaned.
“Please say we’re not leaving today.”
“We have maybe an hour.”
When she tightened her hold and slid her hand all the way down his shaft, he groaned again—deeper this time.
“An hour’s not enough.”
She grinned. “We’re not doing that again.”
But when he backed her up to the marble wall and slapped his palms against it high on either side of her head, Teagan seriously wanted to reconsider.
As she continued to work his erection, he lowered his head and tasted a line from the slope of one wet shoulder to her neck. By the time he reached her earlobe, he’d begun to move along with her, falling into the rhythm, his pelvis slowly rocking in time with her stroke. When she’d built up the tempo enough, he gripped her hand and buried his face in her hair.
“Tea... Christ...you’re killing me.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Not.
“You know I’ll get you back.”
She whispered in his ear, “You’d better.”
Being naked with Jacob Stone set her on fire. As long as their bodies were touching, she felt completely consumed. It was helping to elbow out some of those memories from breakfast.
She didn’t care that she was a vegetarian and Jacob loved his meat, or that he wanted to save her from walking out this morning wearing an evening gown. What hadn’t sat well was their conversation about family.
He’d asked questions, which she’d answered. But he wouldn’t let up about Wynn. Yes, it was an unusual name, and she was certain Hunter Enterprises’ lawyers had dealt with libel suits before. Sometimes reporters needed to dig around in the dirt to uncover the truth.
Of course, the media should be responsible when sharing information, but Wynn was the poster boy for ethics—thorough and principled to the point of driving people nuts. Nothing anyone might say, or try to bring against him in a court of law, could ever change her opinion on that.
But now, as Jacob’s mouth began working its magic again in a feverous kiss, Teagan pushed all that other stuff from her mind. This slice of time was about filling the well. About being human and truly feeling again.
When his lips left hers, he took his time searching her eyes while she pledged to memory the chiseled angle of his jaw and how water dripped off the tip of his nose. She wanted to remember the way he was looking at her now, like he would do anything to never let her go.
“We wasted too much time sleeping last night.” Droplets fell from his black lashes as his gaze burned into hers. “I need to be inside you.”
It was a statement of fact. A heartfelt plea.
Yes, I want that, too.
Just one problem.
As compelling as this moment was, safety came first.
Obviously, Jacob agreed. “Condoms are in the bedroom,” he said.
“So we should turn off the faucets.”
“Or we could go with something else.”
She grinned. “Something new?”
“There is nothing new. There’s only better.”
He edged them both around, swapping places while coaxing her to about-face. With his shoulders propped against the wall and that rock-hard body cradling her back and behind, he began nuzzling her neck, caressing her breasts, while one hot palm slid down her front. But when he reached her scar and stopped, she pressed back against him and stiffened.
He kissed the crown of her head. “That’s been there a while. Must have hurt.”
“I fell off my bike in middle school.”
“We should compare battle scars sometime. I’ve got a couple of whoppers.”
As he talked, his hand slipped lower and a finger curved between the apex of her thighs.
Jacob was back to his old tricks, concentrating solely on her. And as he began to tease and gently rub, she forgot about childhood accidents, the fact that time was running out, or anything else that might interfere. She only wanted to concentrate on the outgoing tide and look forward to being carried away.
All too soon, she was trembling and contracting inside. There was a sense of friction building...of everything else blurring and fading away.
His words were warm at the shell of her ear.
“This was a good idea.”
“Don’t...” She swallowed, caught her breath. “Don’t talk.”
Pinpricks of heat were flying together, joining and compressing until finally her hips bucked forward, her head rocked back. And before all that intensity came close to burning out, she climaxed again, higher and brighter and, yes, just that bit better. Still touching her, loving her, he wrung out the last spasm until she couldn’t stand. Couldn’t think. She was officially mindless.
Unreservedly his.
But as he scooped her up and carried her to their bed—curled up in his arms, dripping wet—Teagan knew this wasn’t over yet. Jacob Stone wasn’t done with her. Not even close.
Nothing was ever perfect, but if Jacob had to come up with something darn close, these hours spent with Teagan would be it. And as much as he had enjoyed the previous night—the talking, the dancing, the mind-blowing sex—this morning’s installment in the shower had blown that all clean away.
Now, after making love again, they were lying together, face-to-face, nose to nose. As she looked into his eyes and he looked back, he could only think of the slice of time they had left. Bottom line: he wanted to see her again. But, unless his guess was wrong—and that wasn’t likely—this liaison was about to wind up, not for now, but for good.
The finality of that goodbye hinged on something he needed to say. Something she wouldn’t be able to look past. And, frankly, neither would he.
“We need to go,” she said, her gaze lingering on his lips. His insides gave a kick that was a whole lot of desire but even more regret.
He exhaled. “How are we going to do that?”
“We