Bad Boy Heroes Boxed Set

by Patricia Ryan

  “I got all night.” The rest of my life.

  She tapped her do-me high heels on the floor. “You were right about Philip.”

  Son of a bitch . He forced himself to remember he was a man of God. And her stricken look softened him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t want to be right.”

  Sighing heavily, she just stared at him.

  “Did he force you out?”

  “Nope. As a matter of fact, Jack Sheer asked me to reconsider when I handed in my resignation yesterday.”

  The information hurt. She’d made monumental decisions without consulting him. But hell, he got what he wanted so why did he care? “Start from the beginning.”

  She lay back on the cushions. He noted the smudges beneath her eyes and the lines of stress around her mouth. “It started just where you said it did. The pressure was all very subtle.”

  Still holding her hand—and please God let me keep my big mouth shut—he listened to her tell him about the remarks Philip made, the actions he took and the culmination which, ironically, led to her appointment as vice president of engineering.

  “That’s exactly what you wanted, Margo. I can’t believe you threw it back in their faces.”

  “Neither could they.” She sighed. “It feels good, though.”

  “Why’d you do it?”

  “Because I realized I didn’t want that life anymore. Good people like Jack Sheer are trapped by it. Even he can’t do the right thing in a situation like this. It’s an empty life. And unfulfilling.”

  Linc rubbed her hand with his thumb, noting the cut she had on her middle finger. He wondered how she’d gotten it. Oh, God, this was lame. He wanted to know every single thing there was to know about her. “So, where do we go from here?”

  Her whole body tensed. “I’m not sure. I gotta tell you something else, before we decide.”

  Stoically, he readied himself for the emotional blow. Please, God, let me handle this okay.

  “I…um…” She gave him a soulful look. And then, shockingly, her eyes filled.

  He’d only seen her cry once before, when he’d told her he was going into the ministry. And, for the first time, Reverend Abraham Lincoln Grayson did not know what to do. He did not know how to give comfort to the woman whom he loved, next to God, more than anything else in the world. “Margo?”

  She linked their fingers. “I heard your sermon this morning.”

  It was the last thing he expected. “What…where…I didn’t see you.”

  “I stood behind that big bulletin board just outside the sanctuary.”

  The picture of her in this get-up, almost in church, blew him away. “Why did you come there?”

  She smiled. “Do you know I’ve never heard you preach before?”

  “What did you think?”

  “You were wonderful. Inspiring. I’m sure you saved a lot of souls today.”

  “What about yours?”

  He waited for her to say she didn’t have a soul to save.

  She didn’t say it.

  “Margo, tell me straight where your head’s at. I can’t deal with this any other way.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, she smiled through her wet, spiky lashes. “I love you, Linc.”

  “Aw, baby, I love you, too.”

  “I…” She gulped in a breath. “I want to be your wife.”

  “Oh, Mar—”

  She put her fingers to his lips. “Shh. Let me finish. You need to know something else. It’s about…” She paused as if heralding an important announcement. “It’s about God.”

  Blood swam in his head. His vision blurred. He was, quite simply, in shock.

  “You know that time you asked me to think about God?”

  Somehow he managed to say, “Uh-huh.”

  “I did. And then, when you got hurt, I…” She shook her head. “This is so stupid, but I talked to Him.”

  His heart stopped beating, and his breath backstopped in his throat. His own eyes filled. Never in his whole life had he ever expected to hear her say those words. He wondered if God was mad at him because he didn’t have faith enough to believe that this would one day happen.

  “Actually,” Margo went on. “He talked to me. Twice.”

  “W-what did He tell you?”

  “That He never abandoned me. That life is full of evil, but He wasn’t the one to do all that to me.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. But I’m willing to think about it. Work it out in my mind.” She hesitated. “If you’ll help me.”

  He couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat.

  “Linc?”

  Finally he was able to say, “I’ll help you.” He soothed a hand down her hair. “Do you realize what a gift you’ve given me?”

  She shook her head.

  “That you’d think about making peace with God.” Linc was overcome with emotion. Because he admitted, for the first time, that they probably wouldn’t make it if she didn’t at least try to effect some reconciliation with his God.

  “Linc, I’m not there yet. But I’ll try. I want to share your life, not just tolerate it. So I’ll work hard at coming to some terms with Him.”

  Linc’s smile was broad. He could barely contain it. God will take care of the rest, he thought. But he didn’t say it. He didn’t want to push his luck.

  She drew in a deep breath and tried for a real smile.

  Intuitively, he knew to lighten the moment; so he stood and pulled her up with him. Slowly, he bent over and caught her behind the knees.

  “What the hell are you doing, Jesse?” Ma Barker was back.

  He was glad. He swung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes; she wiggled furiously. His whole body responded. Just for good measure he slapped her nicely exposed fanny. “Shut up, Ma.”

  She giggled. Her body relaxed against him as he strode to the bedroom.

  Just as he opened the door, he whispered mentally, Thank you, God.

  Just as he closed it, he heard, You’re welcome, son.

  *

  “HURRY,” MARGO BEGGED as he dropped her on the bed, none too gently, and dove on top of her. She could hardly wait until he was inside her.

  His answer was to tunnel his hands through her hair and take her mouth. The kiss was carnal and consuming. They’d been apart too long for tenderness.

  Her hands slid up under his shirt and she raked her nails down his back. A long, low, sensuous moan escaped him. When they were young, she used to drive him nuts with her sexy ministrations. His lower body, no longer young but definitely at attention, jerked into her. “Witch,” he mumbled against her lips, biting the lower one, soothing it, then tracking his way to her neck with tiny little nips along the way. She was squirming by the time he buried his face in her hair. He inhaled her scent, uttered “Mmm,” and continued back to her throat.

  She slid her hands inside the waistband of his jeans and kneaded his butt.

  Suddenly he was gone—standing, and dragging the shirt over his head. She lay where she was and enjoyed the show. She whistled saucily as his bare chest came into view. “You’re in great shape, Rev.”

  “Right now I’m ready to go off,” he said, his face flushed, his hands unsteady. He kicked off his sneakers, cursed when he had trouble undoing his jeans, then dropped them and boxers in one motion.

  “Yeah, you are,” she chuckled when she got a good look at him. Her voice was full of female pride.

  He threw himself back on the bed and his hands went for the hem of her leopard shirt. Without finesse—it ripped—he yanked it over her head. “Aw, shit, I’m dead meat,” he said when he saw her black lace demi bra. His gaze flew to hers. “You did this on purpose.” He’d been a sucker for black lace all his life and she knew it.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He slipped off her shoes, then slid down her pants. When he saw the matching lace thong, he groaned. “Fuck it, Margo. You tryin’ to give me a heart attack?”

  “How about a
hard-on like you’ve never had?”

  He kissed the black lace, slid his finger inside and fingered her. “You’re wet. For me. I love it.” Before she could answer—she was too busy moaning—he stripped her of the underwear and covered her, naked skin meeting naked skin for the first time since she was twenty-two and leaving for grad school out west because he’d decided he was going to divinity school.

  They’d both cried through the whole thing.

  She pushed away the memory of all that loss. Their bodies melded. For a long, precious moment, they reveled in the feel of each other.

  Then he kissed her again, working his way down her body, suckling her breasts in just the way she’d always liked. He nuzzled her stomach and his mouth closed over her. “No, Linc, together,” she said just as the spasms began.

  Dimly she heard him whisper, “That’s it baby, come for me.” His sexy baritone destroyed her. Sights, sounds and colors all exploded in her head, and she had to close her eyes to tolerate them. When the tremors finally subsided, he kissed her stomach. “You’re so beautiful like this. I almost forgot.”

  Linc crawled up her body, bracing his arms on either side of her, and said hoarsely, “I’ve got about two seconds of sanity left.” He started to pull away, reaching toward the nightstand for a condom. She stopped him.

  “I’ve got protection in there.”

  She raised up on her elbows. “I don’t need protection from you, Linc.” Grasping his hard length, she slid her fingers lovingly and sexily up and down. “Come inside me with no barriers. Please.”

  He sucked in a breath at the picture she made, at the import of her words. Without saying anything, he turned her to her side, scissored her legs, inched his hips forward and locked his eyes with hers. Then he plunged into the only woman he’d ever really loved.

  His world went dim. His head felt light and his body wound so tight it thrust mindlessly into her. He heard her say, “Ah, Linc. Yes…hmm…oh, geez…” Then she began yelling and begging.

  It was the last thing he was conscious of as an explosive climax hit him so hard his mind went numb and his body witlessly battered into hers.

  A long time later, when he finally could, he opened his eyes and saw her face was wet. She raised her hands to his and wiped moisture off his cheeks that he didn’t even know was there. “It’s a miracle, Linc.”

  He nodded. “I know.” Her gaze was somber, reflecting his own. “I’m never letting you go again, you know that, don’t you?”

  “I don’t want to go again. Ever. No matter what.” She hesitated. “I trust you. I know this can work out.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  Later, nestled spoonlike with her under the covers, he silently thanked God for bringing Margo back to him.

  He thought she was asleep when she mumbled, “Hey, Rev, remember how we used to do it in college?”

  Grinning, he eased her over and pressed her face into the pillow. He slid his arm around her hips and raised her lower body up, his hand cradling her intimately. She spread her legs and his erection pressed against her. As he slipped inside her, he whispered, “This way?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Yeah, I remember.” He began to move and before rational thought fled once again, he vowed he would always remember—how he loved her, how he lost her, and how she came back to him and completed his life. Then he stopped thinking altogether.

  *

  WIPING AWAY THE steam from his shower, Joe looked in the mirror. For the first time in five and a half years, he approved of the man who stared back at him. Linc was right in his sermon this morning, it was time to forgive himself. He’d taken a long run after church and stayed for hours in the park, thinking about his life, both where he’d been and where he was going. As he lathered up and glided the razor over his face, he realized this was the last step to healing completely. He’d been a monster, but Hyde was gone. For good.

  The blade scraped his cheek; he tilted his chin to shave his throat, his heart full. Things were going to work out. His children had accepted him. And he and Annie had a truce.

  Gray eyes stared back at him honestly. You want more from her.

  “Yeah, well,” Joe said aloud as he wiped off the excess lather. “You can’t always get what you want.” He’d try to be happy with what he had. It was a skill he’d learned during recovery.

  Leaving the bathroom, he strode into the bedroom and drew out a pair of gray Polo shorts and a matching T-shirt. He wanted Annie all right, physically, emotionally and psychologically. But he’d never get her back. So he would be happy with what he had.

  His gaze dropped to the message pad next to the phone by the bed. Taylor had gotten him a date with one of her straight friends in the industry. Saturday night, six o’clock. She’d called earlier and ordered him to be there.

  And Joe had said yes. It was time to get on with his life.

  The doorbell rang, chasing away the flutter of sadness that accompanied that thought. Shrugging into a navy bathrobe, he padded to the front door. He was shocked to see his ex-wife standing on the top of the staircase that led to his apartment.

  “Hi.” She was dressed in the long baby-pink sleeveless dress she’d worn in church that morning. Its slim cut accented her dancer’s body but made her look taller. Freckles dotted her fair skin, and he remembered how he used to tease her about them. When she’d get mad, he’d end up kissing every single one. There had been some good times. “Joe? What are you staring at?”

  “Your freckles.”

  She swiped her nose self-consciously. “Can I come in?”

  “Here?” Never once had she been to his apartment. It somehow seemed intimate, even to him.

  Glancing over his shoulder, she frowned. Her eyes rested on his bathrobe and wet hair. “Oh, sorry. Is someone here?”

  “No. No one’s here.” He was fumbling like a boy calling his first girl. “Sure you can come in.” He stepped aside and let her enter. “Sit down.”

  She moved gracefully to the couch and sat on the edge. Her eyes were drawn to his chest, which was exposed through the open V of his robe. Odd, it made him blush. “I’ll just get dressed,” he told her. And collect myself, he thought as he scrambled into the bedroom.

  Annie’s heart was beating wildly in her chest as she watched Joe’s retreating back. It wasn’t that she was afraid of him, though. Afraid of being alone with him. She was nervous about what she’d come to tell him. To distract herself, she scanned the apartment. It was small but meticulous. She’d noticed the same thing about his office and car and even the way he dressed. Joe was very careful about everything these days.

  Her gaze landed on the coffee table. Several magazines were neatly stacked. A catalog had been tossed on the top. Peering up at her, right under the title Men Undercover, and logo, Exclusive Underwear For Men, was a full-blown picture of Joe. Instead of lazing on a couch, like the shoot she’d seen with him that day in New York, he was lounging on a bed. Gray-striped sheets backdropped him. He was slouched against an oak headboard, his arms linked behind his head. He was naked, except for a pair of silky gray boxers that emphasized his trim waist, his muscular thighs. Patterns of dark hair whorled beautifully across his bare chest. And on his face was a smile sexier than Pierce Brosnan’s.

  She picked up the magazine. Her finger outlined his head, his jaw, his shoulders.

  “Annie? What are you…Oh, Lord.”

  Slowly, she peered up into his blushing face. He’d put on gray shorts and a matching T-shirt with black sandals. He seemed healthy and happy and—she glanced down at the catalog—sexy. She held it up smiling. “You look terrific.”

  His blush deepened. He shrugged. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “It’s honest work.”

  His eyes flashed with the memory of the time in New York. You always land on your feet, don’t you Joe? She knew now that had been a gross misstatement. The road to health had been rocky and treacherous, and Joe had paid a high price to recover. It was there in the
sadness of his gray eyes every time she looked in them.

  “Thanks.” He took a seat across from her. He was always careful not to invade her personal space. She wondered if he learned that in his counseling sessions. “Why did you come here?”

  It was her turn to blush. She felt it creep up her neck and chin. “I have something to say.”

  He tensed.

  She rushed on to add, “It’s good.”

  Visibly he relaxed. She felt bad for having this power over him and wielding it.

  Stop it. It’s water under the bridge. And you had cause.

  She did, but she was tired of living in the limbo of retribution. “I was wondering if you might want to come over for dinner tonight.”

  His eyebrows rose. “To your house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is Faith cooking?” He grinned. “Not that I don’t like peanut butter and jelly.”

  “No, Faith’s not cooking.” She smoothed her hands down her dress. Suddenly her palms were clammy. “Actually, both kids are going to supper and a movie with Rosa.”

  He stared at her blankly. “I don’t understand. You want me to come over to your house for dinner…with just you?”

  She nodded. Felt foolish. “Um, if you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

  “I want to. I just don’t understand.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Does this have anything to do with Linc’s sermon today?”

  “Partly.” She drew in a deep breath. “I told you before I believe you’ve changed, Joe.”

  “That’s not the same as forgiveness.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here. To tell you I do forgive you.”

  Slowly his eyes filled. He closed them and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger. When he was composed, he met her gaze again. “I don’t know what to say. I never expected your forgiveness.”

  “Well, you have it if you want it.”

  “I want it.”

  “I’m glad.” She scanned the room nervously. “So, I thought it might be a good idea if we had some alone time to talk. To kind of get to know each other better. You know, to get to know the people we’ve become.”

  He swallowed hard. “I’d really like that, Mary Anne.”

  His use of her formal name relaxed her, made her smile. “So would I.” She stood.