Treasuring Amber: The Temptation Saga: Book Five

by Hardt, Helen;

  She swooned just a little bit.

  “I’ve been thinkin’,” he said, his voice huskier than seconds before.

  “About what?”

  “About us.”

  “There’s an us?”

  “There could be, I think. I’m not lookin’ for anything serious. Not just yet, anyway.”

  “Neither am I,” she said and meant it, but her heart sank just a little.

  “But I know one thing. I really want to kiss you right now.”

  He stood and took the coffee pot from her hands. Amber’s breath caught as his finger trailed over her lower lip.

  “You have such a gorgeous red mouth, baby.” He cupped both of her cheeks and touched his lips to hers. The kiss was light and teasing, just enough to still her resistance.

  Not that she had any resistance. What a crock.

  He tasted of the robust coffee, the smoky bacon, with just a hint of minty outdoorsiness, an unexpected taste of wildness. He brushed his firm full sexy lips back and forth over hers.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she gave herself to the kiss, to the passion and desire that flowed between them. How difficult it would be not to fall in bed with this man! The moist heat of his mouth against hers tormented her, made her want more. Made her want all of him.

  The kiss became stronger, more possessive, every bit as raw and unapologetic as it was tender and sweet.

  Perfect.

  The perfect kiss.

  She sighed into his mouth, let her tongue entwine with his. She thrust her hands into his silky hair, let it flow through her fingers. So soft, like silk fringe—and beautiful, tousled, and sexy like the rest of him.

  His groan vibrated against her lips and gums. The pressure of his lips increased, and he kissed her as though he wanted to devour her right then and there.

  Without thinking, she stepped backward, backward, until the back of her legs hit the side of her bed. She sat, pulling him with her, until they were lying, him on top, still kissing with the frantic desire of new lovers.

  His lips left her mouth and crept over her cheek to her ear. “I want to give you pleasure, Amber. I want to show you how good I can make you feel.”

  Yes, yes, yes, she said in her mind. Her sex pulsed between her legs. Her nipples tightened into buds so hard she was sure they’d freeze and fall off. They ached for his lips, his teeth, his tongue. She wanted to rip off her clothes and climb on top of him.

  His strong hands roamed over her shoulders, across the swell of her breasts still covered by clothing. Fingers fumbled at the waistband of her jeans, and soon he was tugging them over her hips.

  “Is this okay?” he whispered.

  She nodded.

  “Naughty girl. No panties.”

  She let out a soft laugh. “I was in a hurry.”

  He tossed her jeans on the floor. She lay, her body taut and full of tension, tight as a bowstring, her breasts and shoulders still covered, but naked from the waist down.

  He touched her clit, and she nearly shattered right there. He rubbed her softly, moved downward into her folds.

  “Mmm. So wet for me, baby.”

  Her body thrummed to the point she was sure he could hear the low purr. She thrashed her head from side to side on her rumpled comforter.

  His fingers picked up speed, just a little, and he eased one inside of her while his thumb circled her clit.

  She sighed.

  “You like that, baby? Do I make you feel good?”

  She closed her eyes, basked in the warmth covering her body, the desire flowing through her veins. “Yes, yes. Just like that, Harper.”

  “Mmm. You’re beautiful. I need to taste you.”

  When his lips replaced his thumb on her clit, she soared to the ceiling. It had been a long time since anyone had made her feel this good. She wasn’t sure anyone ever had, truth be told.

  Sensation after sensation bombarded her body.

  “God, baby, you’re so sweet,” he said against her folds, his breath a soft caress.

  He continued to stroke the inside of her with his finger, and he added another as his tongue worked the rest of her flesh. She tangled her fingers in his hair, moving her hips against him, guiding his mouth in the right rhythm.

  The spasms started in her clit, rocked through her wet channel, and spread up into her torso and then outward to her arms and legs until even her toes tingled. She flew, she danced, she soared, all without leaving the bed.

  “That’s right, baby, come for me.” Harper thrust his fingers in and out of her in a racing rhythm matching her breaths.

  “God, oh God,” she heard herself scream. “Good. So good!”

  When she finally floated downward, encased in pure nirvana, she opened her eyes. His head was still between her legs, his lips and chin glistening with her cream. She couldn’t speak. Could barely move her head.

  He smiled, his brown eyes glowing. “Again,” he said, and he went back to work.

  Chapter Eight

  Going down on Amber was pure pleasure. Though he loved pleasing a woman, Harper had never enjoyed this part of sex more than he did at this moment. She tasted of citrus and honey and warm musky woman. Her beautiful pink flesh tantalized him. He couldn’t get enough of her. His dick pulsed inside his jeans.

  He aimed to keep it there. She didn’t want to rush into anything, and truthfully, neither did he. This was for her. Just about her.

  It might kill him, but so be it.

  He brought her to a second orgasm, and then to a third. He started going for a fourth, but she begged him to stop.

  “Please, Harper. You’re going to kill me.”

  He grinned at her. “But what a way to go.”

  She fisted her hands in his hair and pulled him toward her. Their mouths mashed together, and he let her taste herself on his tongue. Mmm, did she enjoy that flavor as much as he did? From the moans and sighs coming from her, she did.

  They kissed with passion, with fire, with unbridled lust. He ground his erection against her firm supple thigh. God, those legs. Wrapped around and over his shoulders they’d been heaven.

  A vision popped into his head, of Amber’s amazing legs wrapped around a silver pole at a strip club. At Rachel’s.

  He broke the kiss.

  Why’d he have to think of that? Yes, he’d once thought she had the body of a stripper…

  She looked up at him, her golden eyes wide. “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head. Nothing was wrong. He just didn’t like thinking of her that way. He didn’t judge her. At least he didn’t think he did. She hadn’t had much choice after her mother kicked her out. At least she’d finished school first.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  She smiled. Oh, she could kill a man with that knockout smile.

  “Good. Now I think it’s your turn.”

  He shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That was for you, baby. Only for you.”

  “Surely you don’t expect me to be so selfish.”

  “I certainly do.” He cracked his wiseass grin. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

  She burst into laughter. “The same movie! I love those corny lines.”

  “Me too,” he said, laughing.

  He got up. Still hard as a rock.

  Oh well. It was Sunday. Ranches didn’t stop on Sunday. “I have to get going. A million things to do at home.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want—”

  He shushed her with two fingers on her beautiful swollen lips. “I wanted to please you. And I want you to know I’m not just in this for sex. I like you.”

  “Wow.”

  “And just so you don’t think my actions were completely altruistic”—he kissed the top of her forehead—“I enjoyed the hell out of that.”

  “That makes two of us.” She stood. “I will pay you back though.”

  He kissed her rosy cheek. “I certainly hope so. But on your own time. When you’re ready.”

  “What if I’m ready right now?”<
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  Good God! He wasn’t made of stone. “Baby, I’m tryin’ to make a point here.”

  “That you’re a gentleman. I know.”

  “That I want you, but that I’m willing to wait.”

  “What if I’m not?”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Good. The sooner the better in my book. But not today. I’ve gotta run. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  Her smile turned into a little pout. Man, even frowning she was beautiful. “Okay,” she said.

  “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “You’re very welcome. Anytime.”

  “I’m counting on it.” He gave her big wet kiss.

  The weakening in his knees surprised him. This woman had a huge effect on him. And he liked it. He liked it very much.

  He grabbed his Stetson, winked, and left.

  * * *

  Amber was arranging groceries in her tiny fridge after a quick trip to the store when a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

  Harper! Her heart did a flip-flop. He’d come back. She couldn’t wait to see him. They’d make love now. She wouldn’t make him wait any longer. She opened the door with a huge smile on her face.

  That turned into shock. And a little bit of horror.

  Blake Buchanan. Blake Buchanan holding a laptop.

  “Hello, Amber.”

  “Mr. Buchanan. What can I do for you?”

  “Now that’s a right good question. May I come in?”

  “What for?”

  “I have something I want to show you, and after that, I think you’ll agree we have tons to talk about.”

  She gripped the doorknob with her sweaty palm. “If you want to talk, call me on the phone.”

  “Then I wouldn’t be able to show you what I want to show you.”

  “I’m sure I could not care less.”

  “I think you’re wrong about that…Ms. Love.”

  Amber’s stomach churned. Ms. Love. Ambrosia Love. He did remember her.

  Play dumb. He can’t have anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.

  She cocked her head. “Excuse me?”

  His brown eyes shot darts. Had she really thought them gentle when she first met him?

  “Ms. Love. Ambrosia Love. That was your stage name at Rachel’s, wasn’t it?”

  She loosened her grip on the doorknob, tried to relax. “I can’t see what business that is of yours.”

  “I think you might disagree once you see what I have to show you. May I come in?”

  “No.”

  “Well then, I’ll have to send this stuff over the Internet, and security being what it is these days, I can’t be held responsible for who might see this information.”

  She swallowed and hoped he didn’t notice. “What information do you think you have, Mr. Buchanan?”

  “Information that I don’t think you’d want anyone in the good town of Bakersville to see.”

  Had someone seized the back of her neck? Her airway seemed compromised. Couldn’t get enough oxygen. She counted to ten, willed herself to calm down. What the hell was he talking about?

  She’d danced at Rachel’s, that was all. An admirer talked her into a lap dance once. She’d taken his two hundred and sworn never to do it again. Wasn’t worth it. She’d spent the whole time trying to keep his paws off her. She’d hardly danced at all. But she had a rule. No one touched the goods. She wasn’t that desperate.

  She steeled herself. “Look, it’s no secret that I danced at Rachel’s.”

  One side of his mouth rose and a huff of air escaped. “Danced? That’s quite a euphemism, isn’t it?”

  “Danced.” She gritted her teeth. “It wasn’t the classiest job in the universe, but it paid the bills, and I saved up enough to start a new life. Anything wrong with that?”

  “Nothing at all.”

  “Then why exactly are you here?”

  “Because you did more than dance, Ambrosia. And I have proof.”

  She gulped. What the hell was he talking about?

  “Ready to let me come in?”

  “Absolutely not.” She pushed him out the door.

  “Fine. Give me about an hour to circulate these photos on the net.”

  Her throat constricted again. Breathe, Amber, breathe.

  “What photos? I didn’t do anything!”

  “I’ve got photographic proof otherwise.”

  Curiosity got the best of her. Chad and Catie knew this guy. She felt sure she wasn’t in any physical danger. Heck, if she didn’t find out what was going on, she was liable to pass out from hyperventilation.

  “Fine. Come in then. Let’s see what you think you have.”

  He entered. “Nice place.”

  She scanned the room for a paper bag. There, on the table, holding lemons from the store. She dumped the lemons on the table and crunched the bag in her fist. “It’s cozy. Now enough with the small talk. What do you want?”

  “Look, I understand why you worked at Rachel’s.”

  “For the money,” she said, “pure and simple.”

  “I know that, and I understand. We all do what we have to do sometimes for the money.”

  “Do you have a point?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” He set his laptop on the table and sat down. “I want to show you a web site.”

  Her nerves skittered. Doctored photos, maybe? She hadn’t the foggiest. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to get away with this.

  “Shall we?” He pulled the other chair close beside him. “Have a seat so you can see.”

  She was too curious not to. He typed in some letters and a password, and photos of nude women popped onto the screen.

  Truly, she told herself, you have nothing to worry about. You didn’t do anything wrong. You never posed for photos. The one lap dance you did was out in the open, not back in the private rooms. Nothing to worry about, Amber. Nothing.

  Until the first photo emerged.

  Her bowels clenched and nausea gripped her throat. The blond girl with the slim muscular legs…legs famous for her pole dancing. That girl lay on a red satin sheet, her legs spread wide, another woman’s head—Laura’s head!—between them.

  “It’s enhanced,” she whispered. “It can’t be me.”

  “It is.” Blake clicked on the screen. “And so is this.”

  This time she was on a man’s lap, naked, her nipple between his lips. Her back arched and her eyes shut—clearly enjoying the stimulation.

  She swallowed hard. “I’m going to throw up.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Here’s another.”

  This time she was giving a guy a blow job. Bitterness coated her tongue. She swallowed a heave.

  “Seen enough?”

  “It can’t be. I never…posed for these. I don’t understand.”

  “How many drugs did you do in your Rachel’s days, Amber?”

  “Damn it!” Tears welled in her eyes. “I didn’t do any drugs! I hardly drank. It can’t be me. It just can’t be.”

  “This one will tell the tale I think.”

  A black-and-white photo appeared. Her ass was in the air, and a triangle shaped birthmark was apparent on her right butt cheek.

  As if of its own accord, her right hand wandered to her hips, over the spot where her own birthmark marred her skin.

  How could this be?

  “How many more pictures are there?”

  “There are twenty-four altogether. Six are girl/girl, two solo, the rest with men.”

  “Am I…having sex in any of them?”

  “Alas, no. But you’re doing pretty much everything else.”

  Her stomach threatened to empty. She covered her lips with her hand. “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I. You seem like a nice girl.”

  “I really don’t remember.”

  He powered down the laptop and flipped it closed. “I’m sure you don’t. But unfortunately, that gets filed under the heading of ‘not my problem.’”

&nbs
p; “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is, I owe a bad man a lot of money. If I don’t pay him soon, he’s going to break my legs or worse.”

  God. He wanted money. Money to keep these photos out of the public eye. They were already on a web site. How many people had already seen them? Would it matter at this point?

  “What web site are these on?”

  “It’s a private web site. Men pay top dollar to visit it.”

  “Where in hell did they get the pictures?”

  “I haven’t a clue. And I don’t care. Like I said, I just need money.”

  She sighed. “And if you don’t get it?”

  “The good folks of Bakersville will get some brand new impressions of their reigning rodeo queen.”

  She clasped both sides of her head. To think she’d actually thought she could be happy here. That she could make a new start.

  No such luck for Amber Cross. She was that lush Karen Hedstrom’s trashy daughter. She always would be. Some things couldn’t be escaped.

  “How much do you need?” As if it mattered. She didn’t have two dimes to spare.

  “Twenty grand.”

  Icy fingers gripped her neck. “Twenty grand? You think I have twenty grand? This is where I live, for God’s sake, in this oversize closet!”

  “Ambrosia—”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “I’m a reasonable man. I’ll give you some time to get the money. You’re a good friend of Catie McCray, and I happen to know she’s loaded.”

  Catie? Seriously? She couldn’t tell Catie about this.

  “Your new boyfriend Harper’s pretty well-off too.”

  She really couldn’t tell Harper about this.

  “Even Judy Williamson has managed to put away some money over the years.”

  Her boss? Was he kidding? She couldn’t tell any of these people. She’d be run right out of town.

  Where had those photos come from? She’d never done drugs, hardly ever drunk alcohol.

  Except that one night when she blacked out.

  Oh God.

  She’d been at Rachel’s for a few months, had gotten pretty popular, when two of the more experienced dancers invited her and Laura out after work one night. They went to their apartment. The bed had red satin sheets…

  Oh my fucking God.