A Taste of Temptation

by Heather McGovern

  Wright’s arms surrounded her, one hand on the back of her head, tucking her against his chest, the other on her back, never letting go.

  “I can’t lose anybody else.” She cried.

  “You won’t. You’re not going to lose anyone.”

  “I hate summer time! I always lose someone.”

  He murmured words of reassurance, but she didn’t absorb a single one, too caught up in her bottled-up fear to hear. “Everyone is finally happy and . . . and I know something bad will happen. It always does.”

  Wright held her until the tears dried on her cheeks. Until she stopped railing against the injustice of what she’d lost. And then he held her some more.

  When she finally settled down, he leaned away without letting go. “You’re not crazy for the way you feel. What you’ve been through—I don’t care how long ago it was, you lost your parents—you carry that with you. Forever. Survivor’s guilt or something. I don’t know, but then you lost the Bradleys too, and for years this family has barely held together.” He rubbed her arms. “I remember being little, after you moved here, and I was scared my folks would die in a car wreck because yours did. I guess I didn’t know parents could die until it happened to you. It scared the shit out of me. Of course you’re scared. Nervous that it will all fall apart again, to fear that someone you love will be taken from you.”

  She blinked and rubbed at her face. “Is this where you promise they won’t? That I won’t lose anyone and I’m . . .” She lifted her shoulders. “Overreacting?”

  “I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. And no one can promise us that we’ll have the people we love forever.”

  With a shake of her head, she laughed. “Nice pep talk.”

  Wright squeezed her arms. “I’m not going to bullshit you. You know that. Yeah, if we love people, we might get hurt. But the people we love, they’re here now. Right now. Your family is happy and safe. You have them, and you have me. And I have you.”

  She did have him. She’d always had Wright.

  He leaned back a little more, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. “And you don’t have to be scared about enjoying what we have. Our happiness isn’t going to hurt anyone. Your happiness won’t cause everything around you to fall apart. That much I know.”

  She wished she were as certain. Her logic was crazy; she knew that. But after years of feeling like disaster might strike at any moment, how did she turn it off?

  For so long everyone around her was a hairbreadth from falling apart. Her job was keeping them together. Now they were, and she was the one who was lost and afraid.

  Fear had held her back. Her family needed her to be the glue, and if she wasn’t there, somehow any failure was her fault. Fear kept her from loving, from letting anyone too close, because they’d see how dysfunctional she was, and then it’d be so easy for them to hurt her.

  She didn’t want to hold back from Wright.

  Finally, she’d found something and someone who understood her. And what he didn’t understand, he still accepted.

  Maybe she could be happy without the worst happening. Maybe she could live and love without fear.

  There was only one way she’d ever know for sure.

  With her chin still in his hands, Sophie closed the distance between them and kissed him.

  Up on her toes, with every tumultuous thought in her mind and all of the emotion inside, she kissed him. In the kitchen, where they’d first started down this path, she reached out and took what she wanted.

  Her mind was too busy for sweet and slow tonight. She needed to forget and feel only him.

  She grabbed the front of Wright’s dress shirt, twisting her fingers into the cotton, licking her way inside his mouth. Soft pulls on his lips, nibbling until he rumbled with the desire for more.

  Normally, Wright instigated sex. Spurring her on, pulling her in, making her world spin out of control. Tonight, she would kindle the fire between them. She needed him, needed what they shared.

  With a firm push, she got him to back into the pantry, the room full of mingling scents like cinnamon and rosemary. His back bumped the shelves, making jars rattle. Then his lips were hot on her neck, down into the front of her dress.

  With a desperation that swept over her, she was the one to plunder his mouth.

  She wanted to be pulled under by the power of what she felt when she made love to Wright. She needed to get carried away.

  “I want you so much,” he murmured against her skin, echoing the same. “I always want you. But sitting across from you all night, worrying about you, wondering what was wrong, needing you to be okay—”

  “I want to be okay. Touch me,” she pleaded. “Touch—”

  He slanted his lips over hers, stealing her words and all reason.

  Good. She wanted them both gone.

  In a hot stripe of lips and tongue, he moved from her mouth, down her neck, slipping the straps of her dress down, tugging at the fabric until he revealed her breasts, sucking and kissing until she writhed against him.

  Sophie slid her hands around him, clinging, holding him close as she arched closer.

  He went back to nibbling at her neck, then turned her and reached under her skirt, caressing her leg, farther up and farther, until he hooked her knee.

  Her back was pressed hard into the shelves and he held her with one arm. Using his free hand, he squeezed her ass through the cotton and satin, sucking kisses against her neck as he moved his hand. Under the cotton, barely brushing her flesh. Heat rushed to her core and she sought his touch.

  He breathed against her neck. “You’re always so wet for me.”

  His words seeped into her brain, making her body tighter, needier.

  “I want to rip these off and take you right here.”

  She needed his hands on her, wanted him inside her. Wanted to forget but remember. To feel and believe this was something real, something she wouldn’t lose. “Yes.” The word rushed forth.

  His low rumble of a chuckle coasted down her skin. “You’d do it too, wouldn’t you?”

  “Wright, please.” She needed this. After a night of love and laughter and everyone having something for themselves, except for her. This she could have.

  She had it already.

  Wright didn’t hesitate.

  Her leg lowered, he reached under her skirt and slid her panties off in one swift tug. Before she could catch her breath, he had his hand between her legs, fingers gliding over her, making her bite back a moan as her body sang.

  “This, baby?” he whispered in her ear. “Is this what you want?”

  She jerked her chin in a nod.

  He slipped a finger inside her, stroking her until she rocked in motion with him. Then two, opening her, his thumb coasting over her clit each time he went deeper. “I can’t wait to taste you again. Feel you on my tongue.”

  “Yes.” The word came out sounding more like a moan, and suddenly, Wright was on his knees before her. Under her skirt, he pushed the material up, held her against the shelves with one hand, and used the other to caress her flesh before his mouth descended, covering her, one gentle flick of his tongue before sucking hard against the cleft of her sex.

  Sophie cried out and pressed the back of her head against the shelf, making some bottles clink together.

  With his mouth and his hand, Wright worked her, until her legs trembled and threatened to buckle.

  “I—” Her mouth was desert dry. “I’m going to . . . fall over if you . . . keep—”

  “No, you won’t.” His words blew hot against her swollen flesh. “I’ll catch you. Come on, baby. Come on my tongue.”

  He licked and stroked her, merciless in his ministrations. Until the first wave of her orgasm hit her, her hips pushing against him, seeking more.

  Wright moaned against her, giving exactly that, and Sophie came. Forgetting where she was, forgetting to worry, she called out his name and came, all of reality and its burdens falling away.

  When she opene
d her eyes, Wright held her upright, his lips warm on her temple.

  “Come upstairs with me,” she said.

  He straightened, studying her face, but she knew he would never decline.

  Wright wanted her, wanted to be with her, and he said he didn’t care who knew about them. She was the hold up, and now, her reservations were spent.

  “Stay with me. Spend the night.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Never surer.”

  He stepped back, adjusting himself, and then he was gone, leaving her alone in the pantry, only to reappear seconds later with his duffel bag in hand. “Let’s go.”

  She smiled at his certainty, his total lack of hesitation.

  While she second-guessed her every choice, each whim and desire, Wright always knew.

  He held out his hand, hers for the taking. As soon as she slipped her fingers into his palm, he headed to the elevators.

  Before, she’d fret over everyone wondering what she was doing, why Wright’s car was still here. A litany of things to worry about would chase away the pleasure of being impulsive.

  Tonight, she didn’t care.

  Tonight she was only going to think about the two of them.

  Wright bent low and covered her lips with his.

  As soon as the elevator doors dinged open, Wright had her hand again and they were halfway down the hall before she could blink.

  He took her key and opened the door, closed it behind them, and tossed the key aside.

  With his hands on her waist, he backed them to the door. He was on her, hands in her hair, reaching for her legs around his waist.

  And she let him.

  She was delirious with the feel of it. His hot, wet lips on her neck, his strong broad hands under her skirt again.

  “I . . . I think . . .” She could barely catch her breath. “You like that you can move me wherever you want me.”

  “I’m picking up where we left off.”

  Her feet barely touched the ground, so she grabbed his shoulders and lifted them, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  “Yes,” he growled.

  With her fingers in his hair, she held him against her neck, letting him kiss and suck, certain he’d leave a mark, but she’d worry about that later.

  He shifted his hold, his hands back on her ass, right where he’d left off. Wright pushed against her, rocking into her sex, the hard line of his erection rubbing and pressing, driving her insane.

  She couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see anything, but she wasn’t worried. Wright had her and he’d never let her fall.

  She wanted him inside her. The urgency scared her, but not enough to stop or even slow down.

  “I want you inside me. Right now. Like this.”

  Wright lifted his head, hair tossed, color in his cheeks.

  He lowered her down to one foot as he worked his pants open.

  His cock stood up straight, flushed and shiny. She had to touch it. Gently, she caressed the tip and slid her hand down his length. Again she stroked him, until he grabbed her hand, wrapping her fingers around him fully. “You won’t break me.”

  She didn’t get to touch him long before he had her leg around his waist again.

  “Like this?” he asked.

  Her back against the wall, the nearby bookshelf the only thing to grab onto beside him.

  “You want it like this?”

  “Yes.” God yes. “Wait! Condom.”

  “Oh shit.” Eyes wide, in a flurry of movement, he let her down and rummaged through his bag, grabbing protection.

  She hurried to help him, so eager her hands shook. Once it was on, he hoisted her up again. They banged off the wall, knocking a trinket off her bookshelf, and laughed.

  “It’s okay, I’ve got it together now.” He grinned, and when he touched her, her entire body clenched.

  As she moaned with the need of it, Wright took his cock in hand and pushed inside her. Slow at first, but not for long. He filled her, the stretch perfect.

  She clung to his shoulders as he thrust into her, over and over, deeper, filling her until she was only this sensation, this need, and the sparks brought to life in her body.

  With her fingers dug into his skin, she panted his name.

  Wright’s breathing hitched, already heavy.

  Neither of them was going to last long like this. “A little harder,” she encouraged. “You’re not going to break me either.”

  He groaned against her neck, his teeth and lips closing on her skin.

  When he came, he kept pushing into her, until she came too. Everything else forgotten, she floated on the ecstasy of now.

  Chapter 18

  The sun wasn’t even up as he rolled toward Sophie. Her night light shined just enough so he could see. After brushing back wild strands of red hair, he found her face.

  Eyes still closed, she smiled. “Morning.”

  “You always wake up this happy before day break?”

  With a laugh, she tugged her covers up past her chin. “I never wake up happy.”

  So he wasn’t the only one thrilled with life at the moment? Good. But man, the thrill made him a little stupid. “We almost didn’t use protection last night.”

  Sophie finally opened her eyes to roll them. “I remembered.”

  “At the last second.”

  “Yeah, but I remembered. Besides, I’m clean. And you better be.”

  “Of course I am, but . . .” He lifted his eyebrows and waited.

  She lifted her eyebrows right back at him. “But what?”

  “Are you on the pill?”

  With a groan, she glanced away. “Oh my god. I have been since I was nineteen. Don’t worry. I’m not going to trap you by getting knocked up or something.”

  “Hey.” He reached over and turned her toward him. “That’s not why I’m asking, and you know it. We’re sleeping together. We should be able to talk about this stuff.”

  Last night he’d almost forgotten his hard and fast rule about using protection because he’d been consumed by the moment, and her.

  Being with Sophie could never be a trap for him, no matter the circumstances, because he wanted to always be with her. But his feelings for her—feelings about always and forever and wanting things like a life and kids with her—would send Sophie into a tailspin.

  Last night, she’d told him about her worries, her fears of loss. Opening up to him was a huge step, and he was going to honor her honesty by not throwing all of his feelings on her at once.

  One ingredient at a time, until they reached forever.

  She sighed. “Yeah, it’s—of course we can talk about this. Just, I’m not used to anyone . . .”

  “Asking?”

  “Caring.”

  The flatness of her tone tied a knot in his gut. “Oh.”

  “You know I haven’t exactly had a ton of... lovers. And you know I usually run guys off before we can get to this point or have this conversation. I don’t know that I’ve ever had the ‘responsibly sleeping together’ talk.”

  “Thank God.”

  She smacked his bare chest and he laughed, defending himself.

  “What? I’m not going to lie anymore. I hated the guys you went out with. I’m glad you didn’t keep them around or sleep with them. Assholes.”

  “Except Poor Paul.”

  “Poor Paul.” He scoffed. “Screw Poor Paul. He was an idiot.”

  Her eyes went round.

  “Well, he was. You really liked that guy. I could tell. But he screwed up and then tried to make everyone think you were the crazy one for breaking up with him. He’s the crazy one. You needed him to be there for you and he was a flake.”

  Sophie giggled and curled closer. “Yeah. Screw him.”

  “Anyway—the sleeping together responsibly thing. I won’t forget about the condom next time. But if I do, you be sure to remember.”

  “Or . . . we could go without. Since we, y’know . . .” With a searching look, she tucked the sheets ar
ound her. “Since we aren’t sleeping with other people, and I’m on the pill. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

  It was her roundabout way of confirming they’d be exclusive. Stating they were a real couple without saying it outright, but serious enough about each other to take that step.

  And this was more than a little step. They were leaping forward.

  Wright bit his lip to keep from smiling. He’d been exclusively Sophie’s since the first night he’d kissed her.

  “There’s no one but you,” he promised. “I’m okay with only using the pill if you are.”

  The corner of her mouth quirked up. “That’s assuming there’s a next time.”

  “Oh, there’s going to be a next time.” He tugged her closer, until she was flush against him under the covers.

  Sophie giggled, tangling her legs with his. “Says who?”

  “Says me. And I’m not above begging.”

  She rested her chin on his chest. “Thank you for listening last night. And not judging me. I didn’t want you to see that side of me, but—”

  He kissed the frown lines away. “I’m glad you showed me.”

  He’d seen what he suspected was always there, even if he couldn’t define the reason for her fears. She didn’t realize how much attention he’d paid to everything about her, for years. The ebb and flow of her life, her mood, her relationships. Any scars she tried to hide, he’d figured they were there, whether she’d showed them or not.

  And so what if he saw more?

  Sophie made him want things, with no uncertainty. For weeks now, he’d been unsure about his future.

  Did he want a high-stress, high-paying head chef in New York gig? Or did he want to keep some of this lifestyle and make half of what he could in a big city by going to Charleston or Asheville? Did he want to talk it out with the Bradleys and give them a chance to influence his choice or decide alone, to keep things simple?

  With Sophie, he had no questions. He wanted to be with her, whether he was at Honeywilde or not. That meant New York was impossible, Charleston would be a big challenge, but Asheville could feasibly work.

  About an hour away. He could keep his place or get an apartment halfway in between locations. They could make a life that way. What he and Sophie had, what they shared, it wasn’t common and it sure as hell hadn’t come easy. Nothing worth having ever did.