Her Hard to Resist Husband

by Tina Beckett

  She saved lives by being in that city.

  But at what cost to herself?

  None, evidently.

  Dr. Morena looked up from Cleo’s chart and focused on Tracy. “I understand you practiced pediatric medicine in the past. We could use another doctor here at the clinic. Would you be interested?”

  “How did you know that?” She shot him a glance that he couldn’t read.

  “Ben mentioned you were a doctor when he called to make the appointment.”

  His heart sped up as he waited to see her reaction. Although his slip had been unintentional, when Dr. Morena had mentioned an opening, he’d wondered if she’d say anything to Tracy.

  “I haven’t practiced pediatric medicine in quite a few years. I’ve been dealing more with indigenous tribes so—”

  “You treat children in those tribes, don’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  Dr. Morena closed the cover of the chart with a soft snap. “It’s like riding a bicycle. You never really forget how to deal with those little ones. And you obviously have a knack with them.” She nodded at Cleo, who was now snuggled into Tracy’s lap. “Give me a call if you’re interested.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  IT WAS LIKE riding a bicycle.

  Dr. Morena’s words rang through her head a few days later as she stood in the doorway of her old bedroom.

  Being with Ben in that water tank had been like that. Remembered responses and emotions bubbling up to the surface. She ventured a little further into the room, sliding her hand across the bedspread. The same silky beige-striped one they’d had years ago. She was surprised he hadn’t bought a new set.

  She glanced at the door and then, on impulse, lay across the old mattress and stared up at the ceiling. No one would know. Ben was safely at work right now, and Daniel had taken Cleo to explore the neighborhood. Even Rosa was off shopping for groceries, which meant she had a couple of hours to herself.

  She wouldn’t stay long, just enough to satisfy her curiosity. She’d passed this room for the last couple of days and had wanted to step inside, but she’d resisted the temptation.

  Until now.

  So, what does it feel like to lie here?

  Just like riding a bicycle.

  That thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.

  The only thing lacking was Ben. And if he could see her now, he’d probably hit the roof. They’d patched together an uneasy truce since arriving in the city, and she was loath to do anything to rock that particular boat. But the open bedroom door had winked at her, inviting her to step through and relive the past.

  Rolling onto her stomach, she grabbed the pillow and buried her face into it, sucking down a deep breath of air.

  Yep, Ben still slept on the right side of the bed. His warm masculine scent was imprinted on the soft cotton cover, despite Rosa fluffing the pillows to within an inch of their lives. She’d have to make sure she left things exactly like she’d found them.

  Being here felt dangerous…voyeuristic. And incredibly erotic. They’d made love in this bed many, many times. All kinds of positions. Her on top. Him. Her hands trapped above her head. His hands molding her body…making her cry out when the time came.

  Just that memory made her tingle, her skin responding to the sudden flurry of images that flashed through her head. Oh, Lord. This was bad.

  So bad.

  Just like riding a bike.

  Sitting on a bicycle was one thing. Putting your feet on the pedals and making them go round and round was another thing entirely.

  She knew she should get up. Now. But the temptation to linger and let her imagination run wild—to remember one of their lovemaking sessions—was too great. The one that came to mind was when Tracy had been lying on the bed much like she was now. Only she’d been naked.

  Waiting.

  The covers pulled down so that Ben would find her just like this when he came home from work.

  And he had.

  Her nipples drew up tight as she recalled the quiet click of the front door closing. The sound of his indrawn breath as he’d stood in the doorway of this very room and spotted her. Without a word, warm lips had pressed against her neck. Just when she’d started to turn her head, eyelids fluttering open, she’d heard the low command, “Don’t look.

  She’d obeyed, letting him explore her body and whisper the things he wanted to do to her. His hands had slipped beneath her to cup her breasts, drawing a whimper from her when he’d found the sensitive peaks and gently squeezed.

  Even now, Tracy couldn’t stop her own hands from replaying the scene, burrowing between her body and the mattress.

  “Mmm. Yes.”

  He’d touched her just like this. Her teeth had dug into her lower lip as she’d let the sensations spiral through her system. Just a hint of friction then more as he’d seemed to sense exactly what she was feeling.

  “Ben.” The whispered name was low, but in the silence of the house it carried. She let out another puff of breath between pursed lips, even as one hand trailed down her side, her legs opening just a bit.

  It wouldn’t take long. She was so turned on. Just a minute or two. And she’d relieve the ache that had been growing inside her since their time in the tub. She undid the button on her jeans and her fingers found the juncture at the top of her thighs, sweet, familiar heat rippling through her.

  Maybe she should close the door. Just in case. Her head tilted in that direction.

  Instead of empty space, her gaze met familiar broad shoulders, which now filled the doorway.

  She yanked her hands from beneath her in the space of a nanosecond, molten lava rushing up her neck and scorching her face.

  Oh, God! Had he heard her say his name?

  “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  “I would ask you the same thing, but I think it’s fairly obvious from where I’m standing.” He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. And the heat contained in them nearly burned her alive.

  The door closed. The lock snicked.

  “I was just taking a…” She rolled onto her back and propped herself up on her elbows, realizing her mistake when his gaze trailed to her chest and saw the truth for himself. Even she could feel the desperate press of her nipples against her thin shirt.

  He stood at the foot of the bed. “Nap?” He gave her a slow smile. “Must have been having quite some dream, then.”

  Oh, it was no dream. More like a wish. And Ben had been at the heart of it.

  “Wh-why did you just lock the door?” Sick anticipation began strumming through her, even though she already knew the answer.

  His hands wrapped around her ankles and hauled her down to the foot of the bed, giving her all the confirmation she needed. “Isn’t it obvious, Trace? I intend to be the one to finish what you started.”

  * * *

  Ben wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d come home early to spend the weekend with Tracy and the kids, but he certainly hadn’t expected to find her in his bed…face buried in his pillow, her hands sliding down her own body.

  Then, when she’d said his name, he’d known. She’d been fantasizing about him. About them. About the way they used to be.

  He’d gone instantly erect, instantly ready for business. And then she’d turned and looked into his eyes, and he’d seen the fire that had once burned just for him. She still felt it. Just like he did.

  It inflamed him. Enticed him.

  And he wasn’t above taking full advantage of it.

  Leaning over the bed and planting his hands on either side of her shoulders, he stared down at her, hungry for the sight of her, hair in gorgeous disarray from being dragged down the bed, her slender body encased in snug jeans and a thin cami top. “Tell me you want me.”

  She licked her lips. “We shouldn’t…”

  “Maybe not. But I want to know. Was it me you were imagining?”

  “Yes.” The airy sigh was all he needed.

  He bent down an
d closed his lips over the nipple he could see so clearly through her shirt, his teeth gripping, loving the tight heat of her against his tongue. She whimpered when he raised his head. “Did you imagine me here?” His knee parted her legs and moved to press tightly against her. “Here?”

  Tracy’s throat moved as she swallowed. “Yes.”

  His breath huffed out, and he moved up to whisper in her ear, “Let me, then. We’ll sort all the other stuff out later.”

  She didn’t say anything, and he wondered if she might refuse. Then her hands went to the back of his head and pulled him down to her lips, which instantly parted the second their mouths met. He groaned low and long as he accepted the invitation, pushing his tongue inside, tasting, remembering, pressing deep and then withdrawing…only to repeat the act all over again—a mounting heat growing in another part of his body.

  Desperation spread through his veins, and he tried to rein in his need, knowing that soon kissing her would no longer be enough. The tiny sound she made in the back of her throat said she felt the exact same way.

  This was how it had always been with them. The flames burned higher and faster than either of them wanted, until they were writhing against each other, fighting off the inevitable—knowing it would be over far too soon.

  He pulled away, his breath rasping in his lungs. “Take off your shirt,” he whispered. “I want to see you.”

  Tracy’s hands went to the bottom of her cami without hesitation and lifted it over her head in a graceful movement that made him want to tear off the rest of her clothing and bury himself deep inside her. But he knew it was better if he didn’t touch her for the next couple of minutes.

  He nodded at her undergarment. “Bra next.”

  “Say please.”

  He swallowed, knowing she was teasing, but at this point he’d say anything she wanted. “Please.”

  She unclipped the front of the thing and shimmied it off her shoulders, the jiggle of her breasts making his mouth water. God, he wanted her.

  He drank in the sight and, just like she always had, she took his breath away. “Touch them. Like you were when I came in.” He gave her a wolfish grin as he added, “Please.”

  Her face turned pink, and this time he wondered if she might leap off the bed and stomp out of the room, but her hands went to her breasts and covered them, her head falling back as she gently massaged them.

  This woman got to him like no other ever had. He slid his hand into the tangle of her hair and kissed her long and deep, drinking in everything he could.

  He stood again, watching her eyes open and meet his. “Slide your thumbs over your nipples. Slowly. Just like I’m aching to do.”

  Again she hesitated, but then her hands shifted, the pads of her thumbs skimming over the tight buds in perfect synchrony. She repeated the motion, her gaze never leaving his. “Like this?”

  “Oh, exactly like that.” His voice had gone slightly hoarse, and he knew no amount of clearing his throat would chase it away. “Don’t stop.”

  Her low moan sent heat skimming down his stomach and beyond.

  “Where are the kids?”

  “Outside. Rosa’s shopping.”

  “Ah, so that’s why you were in here.” He stepped between her legs, which were still dangling over the side of the bed. He slowly spread them wider with his stance. “You thought you wouldn’t get caught.”

  “I—I didn’t plan it.”

  “But the second you got on that bed you felt it, didn’t you? The things we used to do. Imagined me right here—just like this.”

  “Ben—”

  “Shh. Don’t talk. We’re alone. We both want this.” His fingers moved down to the waistband of her jeans. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, her hands going completely still. “Uh-uh. I didn’t tell you you could stop.” He placed his hands over hers and showed her how he wanted her to stroke her breasts.

  She moaned again, her hips shifting restlessly on the bed. “I want you to do it. Please?”

  “Soon.” His fingers returned to her jeans and dragged them down her thighs, stepping back so he could tug them the rest of the way off. “I don’t want to waste a second of this time.”

  “The kids—”

  “Will find the door locked.” He smiled at her. “And you’re sleeping. You need your rest.”

  Her panties were black, just like her lacy bra had been. His hand glided down her sternum, past her bellybutton and stopped, fingers trailing along the line formed by her underwear. He wanted to watch her do that too.

  “Tracy.” His eyes met hers, and he took her hands in his, running both sets down her stomach until he reached the satin band. “Take them off.”

  She hooked her thumbs around the elastic and eased them down her hips, over the curve of her butt. When she’d pushed them as far as she could go without sitting up, Ben slid them off the rest of the way.

  She was naked. His hands curled around her thighs and pushed them apart, his thumbs caressing the soft inner surfaces, then shifted higher, watching her eyes darken with each excruciating inch he gained. When he reached her center, he found her wet…open. He delved inside, still holding her thighs apart. A low whimper erupted from her throat when he applied pressure to the inner surface, right at the spot she liked best.

  Her flesh tightened around his thumb, and she raised her hips stroking herself on him.

  “Please, Ben. Now.”

  He didn’t want to. Not yet. But he couldn’t hold off much longer. He was already shaking with need.

  With one hand he reached for his zipper and yanked it down, freeing himself. They could take it slowly later. Gripping her thighs again, he pulled her closer before filling his hands with her luscious butt and lifting it off the bed. He sank into her, watching as she took him in inch by inch.

  Buried inside her, he savored the tight heat, trying his best not to move for several seconds. Tracy had other ideas. She wrapped her legs around him, planting her heels against his lower back and pulled him closer, using the leverage to lift her hips up then let them slide back down, setting up a sensual circular rhythm that wouldn’t let up. The result was that, although he held perfectly still, his flesh was gripped by her body, massaged and squeezed and rubbed and…

  He gritted his teeth and tried desperately to hold on, but it was no use. Nothing could stop the avalanche once it began.

  With a hoarse groan he grabbed her hips and thrust hard into her, riding her wildly, feeling her explode around him with an answering cry even as he emptied himself inside her.

  Heart pounding in his chest, he continued to move until there was nothing left and his legs turned to jelly. Slowly lowering her to the bed, he followed her down, pulling her onto her side and gathering her close.

  Her breath rasped past his cheek, slowing gradually.

  The moment of truth. Was she going to bolt? Or accept what had happened between them?

  He took a minute or two to get his bearings then kissed her forehead. “Was it as good as you imagined?”

  “Better.” Her soft laugh warmed his heart. “Only you had your clothes off in my imagination.”

  “We’ll have to work on that.”

  “Mmm.” She sighed against his throat then licked the moisture that had collected there. “Someone will be coming pretty soon.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I meant coming home.”

  Something in Ben’s throat tightened at the sound of that word on her tongue. Home.

  Was that what she considered this place? Or would she take off again the second she had the opportunity?

  He’d better tread carefully. Not let himself get too comfortable. Because she considered this a temporary arrangement. And if not for the kids, Tracy wouldn’t even be here right now. The fact that she hadn’t automatically expected to share his bed spoke volumes. She hadn’t planned on returning to their old relationship, no matter how good their little interlude in the water tank had been. Or how much she’d seemed to enjoy their time in this b
ed.

  And she had enjoyed it.

  Seeing her pleasuring herself on his bed…their bed…had done a number on his heart. As had her admission of fantasizing about him…not about Pedro or some other faceless man as she’d touched her body.

  Yeah. He’d liked that a little too much.

  Well, somehow he’d better drag himself back from the edge of insanity and grab hold of reality. Because it wasn’t likely Tracy was going to change her mind about staying with him for ever. And, unfortunately, with each day that passed he found that’s exactly what he wanted.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  TRACY DREW THE insulin into the syringe and gave Cleo a reassuring smile. “You’re becoming a pro at these.”

  This was Cleo’s tenth shot, but her glucose levels were still fluctuating all over the place. Whether it was the honeymoon phase that Dr. Morena had mentioned or whether her pancreas would again start pumping out its own supply of insulin was the big question. One no one could seem to answer.

  “It still hurts.”

  “I know. It always will. But sometimes we have to be brave and do what we know is best—even if it hurts.”

  Like leaving had been four years ago? Because that had hurt more than anything else ever had—that and her miscarriage. Looking back, she knew all kinds of things had led to her flight from Teresina. Anger, grief, shock. If Ben hadn’t done what he had, she might have stuck it out and tried to make things work. But his actions had been the proverbial last straw…her whole world had collapsed around her, unable to keep functioning under the load she’d placed on it.

  And now?

  She and Ben hadn’t talked about what had happened between them two days ago. There was still a part of her that was mortified that he’d caught her on his bed, but the result had been something beyond her wildest dreams. He’d been arrogant—and sexy as hell—standing there at the foot of the bed, ordering her to touch herself.

  If the front door hadn’t clicked open and then shut again, they might have started all over again. But the second the sound had registered, there had been a mad dash of yanking on clothing interspersed with panicked giggles as they’d snuck out of his room to face Rosa and her armloads of groceries.