He was tired of dancing around his desire for her. Tired of acting like he only saw her as a good buddy who he didn’t find insanely attractive. Most of all, he was tired of lying to her.
“Why were they saying that about us hooking up?”
“Because I wish we were,” Wright blurted.
Sophie straightened, frozen.
They stared at each other in that empty parking lot for what felt like eternity, until finally, she took a step back. “Wh . . . What?”
“Not just hooking up,” he added. “It’s not about that, but . . . you know.”
“No. I don’t know.”
Wright bit back a rumble of frustration. She had to know. There was no way she didn’t feel their chemistry, understand the history between them. “They know . . .” He couldn’t believe he was saying this, but he was done fighting the truth. “They can tell I like you. Guys know. They know I have a thing for you, and they’re giving me hell for it. It’s immature bullshit and that’s what guys like them do. They use it. I was going to defend you because they shouldn’t be saying that shit, but they don’t actually think any of it, I promise. They did it to mess with me.”
Sophie stared, again unmoving. “You have a thing for me?”
Of course she was calling him out on the truth. This was Sophie. She wasn’t about to let him slide. And knowing that, he’d still fessed up.
“I kissed you, remember? You had to realize then that I was into you.”
“So now we are going to talk about the kiss? Because I thought we were pretending nothing happened.”
“Oh, come on!” His raised his voice. “You weren’t bringing it up either. I’m following your lead. I pissed you off something awful once; I’m not trying to do it again.”
“That night you insisted you didn’t kiss me.”
He threw his hands up.
“You did, and you got all defensive and yelled at me.”
“I know I did, and I’m sorry. You wouldn’t believe how sorry. But I was mad. Not at you, but at myself.”
“Why did you kiss me? After all this time, why now?”
Good question. He’d asked himself the same thing, over and over, for the last two months. “Because . . . I don’t know.” Not good enough. Even he knew that was a bullshit answer. “Because I couldn’t fight it anymore. You kept going out with these dumb-ass guys and I kept hating it. Every time, I hated it a little more. I was with Kate, but I kept thinking I couldn’t wait to get to work the next day to hang out with you. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, but I wasn’t supposed to be into you like that. I got mad because I’m sure as hell not supposed to kiss you. You’re my friend. You’re Dev’s little sister, and I had a girlfriend. I was mad about all of it.”
She didn’t say anything. Instead she just kept looking up at him with this wounded confusion.
Holy shit, what had he done?
Selfishly, he’d wanted her to know. Why? What did he expect? That she’d confess she had a thing for him too, and damn all the complications and reasons they shouldn’t be together, she’d leap into his arms?
Sophie wasn’t an idiot like him.
Attempting to kiss her had screwed things up so badly they hadn’t spoken all summer, and now he did this.
Instead of spilling his guts, he should’ve kept his mouth shut. Then he wouldn’t be here, his insides in knots, sweating like he faced a firing squad, Sophie looking like she was either going to run again or be sick.
She could at least say something. Tell him to go to hell. Anything other than her wretched silence.
“Please don’t stand there not talking to me.”
She blinked, shaking her head so slightly he almost missed it, her lips together in a flat line.
She never let anything go, and tonight, of all nights, she was clamming up. Perfect. No words of condemnation and definitely none of reassurance. Only him, swinging in the breeze, praying the earth would open up and swallow him whole.
He deserved as much. That’s what he got for betraying her faith in him. Even if he was telling her the truth, he was supposed to be the guy she could rely on. The one who treated her right without expecting anything in return.
“Fine.” His feet kicked into gear. “You know what? It’s probably best we don’t talk about this anymore. I shouldn’t have said anything. Let’s forget I did.” He reached past her to open the door to the Jeep, but Sophie moved.
In a blur of movement, she was in his way and in his arms. Then she kissed him.
Chapter 5
Sophie kissed Wright.
After what he’d confessed, there was nothing else she could do.
Plenty of times she’d imagined kissing him. Not like what’d happened in the kitchen. This was her kissing him.
Wright rocked backward with the force as her lips met his.
She pinched her eyes closed. She didn’t want to see the fallout if he shoved her away, somehow changed his mind about what he wanted.
Then, as quickly as he’d moved back, he surged forward, his arms around her, pulling her closer. He was over a foot taller than her, and she clung to his arms until he bent down. His lips were smooth, his kiss solid and seeking. He sucked at her lips, his hand on her cheek, cupping her jaw. When she opened, the first sweep of his tongue against hers shot a surge of heat down her body.
His arm around her waist was an iron bar, the hand splayed at her back a sure sign at least one of them didn’t have any doubts.
“Wright.” She panted against his lips. They were really doing this. Again.
“I know.”
He moved until her back bumped against the Jeep door, slanting their mouths together as her breath caught in her chest.
Her arms around his neck, she held on as he lifted her up. Only the balls of her feet remained on the ground, but she was flying.
No longer earthbound, she soared.
She was kissing Wright, and her desire should feel wrong. This was her friend of countless years, her brother’s closest friend, and a man she worked with and relied upon every day. The two of them kissing was a horrible idea, which didn’t explain why she felt so amazing.
Wright liked her. Was into her. For how long?
As long as she’d had a thing for him? Longer?
No way was it longer. Her crush dated back to their teen years, and even though it’d died a fiery death a few times, the embers had always remained.
Her feelings had scattered, evolved, and then changed again, to the point even she didn’t understand them. All she knew was that in this moment, she had to kiss him. And now that she had, she didn’t want to stop.
He sucked her bottom lip between his teeth, making her gasp. The warm brush of his hand against her waist focused the heat in her body, sending it slithering to her core. He slid his hand up farther, caressing her bare skin, his thumb brushing over her ribs.
She pressed into him, their bodies flush, his opinion on the matter evident in the hard line poking against her abdomen.
“Oh god.” She might pass out.
She was making out with Wright. He was turned on. What the hell was happening? They’d lost their minds. Wonderful, and terrifying.
He leaned away, only inches, his breath came in short bursts. “You okay?”
She didn’t know what she was. “Are you?”
Wright’s chuckle warmed her face. His cheeks flushed and the familiar grin melted her insides. “Do I look okay?”
His hair was ruffled, his gaze hooded. In the dimly lit parking lot, his eyes shined, dark and hungry.
Never in her entire life had she seen Wright like this. Thank goodness for the Jeep behind her or she’d collapse from the weight of his stare.
“We . . . um . . .” She glanced around. “We’re in a parking lot.”
He moved to withdraw his hand, the tips of his fingers brushing past the sensitive skin at her waist.
She tensed against the wave of fresh desire that followed
his touch.
Her feet began to find the ground, gravel and sand. Behind the Tavern, in their hometown. Where they knew everyone and literally anyone could see them, and know.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” he said.
They shouldn’t do this at all. But when she opened her mouth to tell him so, no words came out.
“Just . . .” He glanced around the lot before fumbling with the passenger door. “Here. Get in the car.”
She climbed in and he rounded the front of the Jeep, dragging a hand through his hair, looking as rattled as she felt.
Holy shit, she’d kissed Wright. More than kissed.
This went further than any brief sweep of lips in the kitchen, followed by fleeing. This was . . . this . . . He’d had his hand up her shirt. And she wanted it there.
He had a hard-on. This was Wright McAdams.
What’d gotten into her? Why would she—well, she knew why. For years there’d been reason enough to want to kiss him, but ten times as many reasons not to. Clearly, they’d both lost their minds.
Wright started the Jeep and jerked the gearshift into drive. Kicking up gravel, he sped out of the parking lot.
They made it a whole half a mile in silence before she couldn’t take it anymore. Shifting in her seat, she faced him. “Are you mad at me for kissing you?”
He ground the gears, missing fifth. “What? No, I’m not—did any of that seem like I was mad?”
“No, but I did jump down your throat for kissing me in the kitchen and now here I am, kissing you, and you’re flying like a bat out of hell. Could you please slow down before we die?”
With a rough exhale, Wright eased off the gas. “Sorry. Kind of flustered, that’s all.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Sophie—” He stopped himself from whatever he was about to say and let go of the gear, gripping the wheel with both hands, tight enough to make mountains and valleys out of his knuckles. “I thought you didn’t . . . I don’t know what I thought.”
Suddenly, her petite frame, the body she’d bemoaned since puberty for its insistence upon staying as prepubescent as possible, weighed half a ton. She sank into the bucket seat, her shoulders and arms like lead. “I think it’s safe to say, for two people who run their mouths a lot, we both suck at communicating.”
His gaze jerked to hers, his mouth agape. “Both? Not ten minutes ago I admitted I have a thing for you. That’s some damn good communicating.”
Indignant, she opened her mouth to match his. “Yeah, after swearing you would never kiss me. That’s pretty piss-poor communicating, if you ask me.”
Eyes narrowed, he refocused on the road. “At least I finally said something.”
There was no way in hell she was telling him how long she’d wanted to kiss him. There was the all-consuming high school crush that lasted her freshman year and even some of sophomore, again when she was twenty-two, lasting a few months, and finally, this summer—when Wright had decimated all of her hard getting-over-him work by going for the lip-lock and making her think about him every damn day since.
“I didn’t say anything or do anything because you have a girlfriend.”
“Had. Did you want to kiss me the whole time I was going out with Kate?”
Ah, hell’s bells. “No.”
He went from studying the road to studying her.
The biggest problem with Wright was he knew her. He knew her too well and saw too much.
“Holy shit, you did want to kiss me then. At least a little.” He went back to watching the road. “I had no idea.”
If Wright was the one looking, her feelings were too transparent. Sometimes she didn’t mind; most of the time it annoyed her. Sometimes she hated his insight so much she’d pick a fight with him.
At the next red light he glanced over. “Were you thinking about kissing me too, that night in the kitchen?”
Yes. “No.”
He shook his head. “I think you’re lying. You wanted to, but I was with someone so you didn’t act on it. You’re a better person than me, and that’s why you got angry.”
“You really think I’m a better person than you?”
He gave her one last glance, his expression pure puzzlement, as the light turned green. “I don’t think. I know.”
The revelation washed over her, surprise numbing her senses, making her eyes go wide.
“And I know you’re trying to change the subject.” He focused on the road. “You wanted to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you.”
All true. As true as the very harsh reality that Wright wasn’t some guy she could kiss, or even hook up with, and get away unscathed.
There were too many complications: the mess of being Dev’s best friend, the dilemma of being coworkers, and the certain disapproval of his family. Talk about rocking the boat—their being together would capsize all of Honeywilde, at least for some period of time, at a time when everything was finally smooth sailing.
She couldn’t be responsible for that. Sophie was the solution, not the problem.
And he was her closest friend. For them, going down the path of kissing and making out didn’t lead to some casual fling.
And she couldn’t do more than casual. Simple. Unmessy.
She didn’t know how.
She could barely bring herself to see a guy more than three times or date more than a few weeks. Wright was there all the time. She saw him every day.
They spent the final two miles in silence, every question and concern churning inside her. She should say something. How had they gone from delicious, desperate kisses to her fretting?
That’s right, because this was her life and that’s how she rolled.
And yet, she wanted to kiss him again.
She wanted to kiss him without thought, with no repercussions, even though, with him, impact was unavoidable.
As they climbed the mountain, Wright reached for her hand. A reassuring squeeze, her fingers dwarfed within his.
Over a year had passed since she’d let anyone touch her. Maybe more. Even then she was tense, 50 percent nervousness, the other 50 reluctant.
But Wright . . . She often wondered about him, about what intimacy would be like with him. Right before she scolded herself not to.
If she could relax enough to be with anyone, it was Wright.
She didn’t dislike sex, but she couldn’t say she’d ever had any that made her desperate for more.
Wright’s thumb brushing ever so softly over the back of her hand, the tips of his other fingers gently pressed into her palm, made her desperate.
That simple movement alone was better foreplay than she’d experienced in years.
His hands were almost big enough to span her waist, cover her ribs, fit each cheek of her—Holy smokes, she was horny.
Aroused by her imagination and alarmed at the reality, she didn’t know what to do. She wanted the impossible, and Wright and his sexy hands weren’t helping matters.
“We’re here.” He parked his Jeep in the side parking for employees.
She jumped out, ready to beat a retreat into the inn and hide—maybe for a day or five—until she figured out what the hell was happening and how to gain even the tiniest bit of control over her life and libido.
“Wait.” Wright was suddenly in her way again.
Curse him and his height and long legs.
Not really.
Sometimes she wanted to climb him like a tree.
“Are you trying to walk back in like nothing happened? Like it’s any other night? What the hell, Sophie?”
She craned her neck to look up at him, ready to stomp her foot like a petulant child. “I . . . I don’t know what the hell, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m annoyed and aroused. There. Happy? Because that’s all the communicating I can manage right now.”
His gaze went from aggravated to amused to completely understanding, all in two seconds, and she was helpless when he looked at her like that.
“I’m sorry.”
And as suddenly and without warning as she’d done earlier, he grabbed her and kissed her.
Rougher this time, their frustration poured into the kiss, trying to sort through what they couldn’t handle with words.
Her heartbeat raced and she clung to him. Rising onto the balls of her feet again, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She wanted to throttle him and melt into him, all at once.
Wright kissed with skill, the kind of skill that made her mind turn to mush. And it shouldn’t surprise her. Being a great kisser was probably what happened when one had a string of long-term girlfriends for most of one’s life.
He’d always had a girlfriend, for as long as she could remember.
Jealousy rose up, belligerently poking into the moment. Sophie swatted it back and brushed her tongue along the seam of his lips, dragging a gruff sound from his throat.
He broke away, only to press hot kisses along her jaw, toward her ear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“What—” Her breath caught as he kissed a particularly sensitive spot. “What do you keep apologizing for?”
“Because I know you. You’re nervous and a little what the hell right now, but I can’t stop kissing you.” He straightened up, his familiar face so different when they were mid-kiss.
“It’s aggravating that you know all of that.” She smiled despite herself.
“You? Aggravated at me? No.” His smile was playful, a reminder that the two of them got aggravated with each other on a weekly basis.
Reality crowded back in, stealing her smile.
“Aw, come on.” Wright bent lower, his teeth perfect. “Let me see that smile again. Just think, we ran out of the Tavern tonight and stuck Caleb and Shane with our bill.”
Her mouth fell open before shifting into another smile. “Holy crap, we did!”
“That’s better. Those two deserve getting stiffed with the check.”
“I wish we’d run up a bigger tab.”
He laughed along with her until her face hurt. Then he cupped her jaw, his hand warm and sure against her skin. “I shouldn’t have kissed you last month. My timing was shitty and I’m sorry. But I am not sorry for tonight.”
She opened her mouth, and closed it. She wasn’t sorry either.
A Taste of Temptation Page 6