Some Like It Hot

by Brenda Jackson

  His gaze must have lingered on her lips much too long for comfort, he thought as he watched her unconsciously moisten them with a nervous sweep of her tongue. His gut clenched and his body experienced an acute craving to feast hungrily on her mouth.

  “It’s late. I better go in,” she said, reaching into her purse to retrieve her door key.

  When she pulled out the key he caught her hand in his. “I’ll open the door for you,” he offered, feeling tingles of desire inch through his veins from touching her.

  Raven stared at him for a long, thoughtful minute. She knew his intent. He wanted to kiss her good night, and it wouldn’t be the type of kiss that could be given on a doorstep amid possible prying eyes. This kiss would deserve privacy. There was kissing and then there was kissing…Lincoln Corbain’s style. He had his own special technique. Linc didn’t just kiss; he made love to your mouth while he was doing so.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” she asked on a long, deep in-drawn breath, wondering why she’d asked such a question. Did she really expect him to answer no?

  He smiled and nodded. “I think it’s the best idea I’ve had all night,” he said in a husky whisper, easing the key from her hand.

  The warmth of his smile flooded Raven’s whole being, and she couldn’t deny him what he wanted, because deep down it was what she wanted, too. As much as she wanted to deny it, she couldn’t.

  She watched as he slipped her key into the lock and with a twist of his wrist opened the door. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she walked inside her apartment on none-too-steady feet. Linc followed her in, closing the door behind him.

  Her hand automatically reached up to a nearby light switch, but he captured her hand in his. “Leave it off for now. There’s enough light in here for what we need,” he whispered, gently pulling her to him.

  Despite Raven’s best efforts to drum up any sort of resistance to him, her body automatically leaned toward him and felt his arms tighten around her waist, drawing her even closer.

  The first touch of his lips on hers sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl and set her body aflame. His mouth covered hers hungrily, sending shivers racing from the top of her head to the tips of her painted toes. She would have fallen to her knees with the devouring impact of the sexual hunger she felt if he hadn’t tightened his hold on her. His mouth moved deeply over hers, tasting her, feeding on her, drawing her out.

  And then he went in for the kill.

  His hand around her waist slid to her behind, cupping it and urging her body closer to the hard fit of him at the same time that he inserted his tongue into her mouth, reacquainting it with this special brand of intimacy they’d shared four years ago. Instinctively she captured his tongue with hers, at first shocked at the degree of her own hunger and the magnitude of her smoldering desire. She heard herself purring, then moaning as she melted like butter in his arms. Their tongues mated hotly, profusely, greedily.

  And then it happened, that unexplainable, uncanny, but special form of communication they were able to share whenever their mouths met with such intensity. He was the one sending all the silent messages and she was reading them loud and clear. It didn’t matter what roadblocks she tried putting in his path or what goals she intended to reach or dreams she wanted to fulfill, he intended on being a part of her life from this night on.

  “No,” she said, suddenly breaking off the kiss and trying to push him away. She could not let him or any man have this type of control over her. She didn’t want to be dependent on any man, not even for this.

  “Yes,” Linc whispered huskily, knowing she’d deciphered his thoughts. His hold on her tightened, refusing to let her push him away from her. He reached up and traced his finger up her cheek and along the curve of her cheekbone. His gaze was intent, purposeful, challenging. “I’m not going anyplace, so get used to seeing me.”

  She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes rebellious but still filled with desire. She spread her palms on his chest, seeking distance. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Then I suggest you make time by adding me to your agenda,” he said, trailing a feathery touch of his finger down the curve of her neck.

  “I have plans, goals, dreams. I’m too busy to get involved with anyone,” she implored in a shaky voice.

  “I’m not just anyone, Raven,” he said softly, stroking her swollen lips with his finger. “I’m the man you became a part of four years ago. The first man to make love to you. We bonded, we connected, and we—”

  “Screwed each other silly during a week of fun and games, Linc. That’s all it was, nothing more.”

  Her crude description of what they’d shared didn’t faze Linc. He knew she was lying to herself. He could see the mixture of longing and fear in her eyes. She was actually afraid of him, not physically but emotionally. “It was more. You know it as well as I do.”

  “It was lust,” she said in a quivery and unconvincing voice.

  “Call it whatever you like for now, but I can guarantee that you’ll come to know the right word for it later.” He recaptured her mouth in a smooth sweep, intending to block all thoughts from her mind. He wanted her full attention and deep concentration. He would have time to prove to her that that week had been more than just fun and games for him…and for her.

  He made this kiss even more hot and heavy than the one before. He refused to let her forget what they had once shared, and he refused to let her make it into something sleazy and meaningless.

  His tongue became dominant and he made love to her mouth in a slow, sensual mating. He felt her tremble in his arms. He felt the heat of her center through the silky material of her dress as it came in contact with his hardness pressing against her.

  When he finally broke off the kiss she clung to his shoulders for support, her breathing unsteady. He pulled her to him. “I have dreams, too, Raven,” he whispered in her ear as if there could be others listening. His voice was husky with emotion. “Occasionally at night when I close my eyes I remember seeing you as I saw you that last night we spent together. You on my bed, stretched out, your body trembling while waiting for me. The look in your eyes told me you weren’t ready for our week to end any more than I was. But we had agreed that that week would be all we’d ever have. Neither of us was interested in continuing things with a long-distance romance. We both had plans and dreams that didn’t include a commitment to each other. We knew and accepted that then.”

  He breathed deeply as his gaze continued to hold hers and his arms tightened even more around her. “That night, when we made love, it was more special than any of the other times before, and do you know why, Raven?”

  Raven was transfixed by the blazing intensity of his eyes. “No,” she said quietly.

  “Because that night we connected in a way we’d never done before, I never knew that two people could get that close, that united, and could join so deeply.”

  Raven closed her eyes remembering. His foreplay that night had been torturous and had pitched her body into a frenzy of need, not only to be satisfied but also to become a part of him. He had pulled every single emotion that she possessed from her that night. At one point she’d even been tempted to rip his condom off to feel the very essence of him inside her body. She had wanted it all. She had wanted to share every part of him, even a part that could have put her at risk of becoming an unwed mother. But luckily for them both, she’d retained her sanity and held back.

  “Fate has brought us back together,” he continued, lacing his fingers through hers. “I regretted letting you walk out of my life. So don’t think I’m going to let you do it a second time.”

  He lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on her lips before releasing her. His mouth curved into a warm smile. “Get a good night’s sleep and while you’re doing so think about what we once shared and will be sharing again.”

  Without giving her time to say anything, he opened the door and walked out, gently closing it behind him.

 
; An angry Raven sat pounding away at the keyboard on her computer. She was furious with anybody, everybody, but especially with herself.

  Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! How could she have let Linc take control of things like she had last night? She had been putty in his hands and, more specifically, under his lips. The man could have told her that the U.S. capital was being moved to Hawaii and she would have believed him as long as he’d kept his mouth cemented to hers. His kissing abilities had gotten even better, not that they’d needed improving, mind you.

  Sighing in disgust, she glanced out the window on the other side of her desk. In the distance she could see the Lincoln Memorial. Today the name “Lincoln” did not sit well with her. At the moment, it was definitely not one of her favorites. She frowned. At least the Lincoln that the memorial was named for had been honest. There was nothing honest about the Lincoln who had taken her home last night. He had played dirty. He’d known she would not be able to resist his kiss, and the man had laid it on thick and heavy.

  Raven exhaled and forced herself to return to the document she had just entered into her computer, the opening for the article on Leo’s that she was writing for the magazine. She glanced down at the club’s schedule that Tyrone Hardcastle had dropped by her office earlier that morning. Leo’s was open six days a week from Tuesday through Sunday for after work and dinner. They were open Sundays for brunch. There was live music on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. All other nights you were entertained with taped soft jazz except for once a month on Wednesday nights, which were set aside to showcase new and upcoming talent.

  Raven turned back to the document she’d been working on, trying to collect her thoughts on the talent that had been showcased last night. She had been impressed and her attention had been completely captured…until she had spotted Linc. Scowling, she started pounding on her keyboard again as she tried to erase the memory of everything that had happened last night.

  Raven looked up when she heard the knock on her office door. “Yes?”

  A smiling Erica breezed in. “Good morning. Did you get home OK last night?”

  Raven frowned as she stared at her friend—the deserter. “Like you care,” she said, displaying her wretched mood.

  Erica’s eyebrows lifted. “Of course I care, but Ben and I thought you and Linc needed time alone to reminisce about old times.”

  “Well, you and Ben thought wrong.” Raven narrowed her eyes. “And speaking of you and Ben, the two of you were awfully chummy last night.”

  “Oh, yes,” Erica replied, her smile widening. “He’s a nice guy. I really enjoyed his company.” She then came and sat in the chair across from Raven’s desk. “What about you, Raven? Did you enjoy Linc’s company?”

  “Not particularly.” Raven would have loved to tell Erica that she had detested Linc’s company because things had moved too fast between them last night to suit her. But she decided the less she talked about it the better off she’d be.

  “So did he spend the night?”

  “Of course not!” Raven snapped angrily.

  Grinning, Erica was not put off by Raven’s sharp tone. “Mmm, I was hoping that he had.”

  “Why?”

  Erica leaned forward. “Because you, Raven Anderson, need a man in your life to get your mind off work for a while. You are a sistah who definitely needs a brother. A hot-blooded brother at that.”

  “No, I do not.”

  Erica smiled. “Trust me, yes, you do, and as your friend I need to tell you these things, since those two sisters of yours won’t. They’re just as mixed-up and confused as you are. Especially the one John’s in love with. I can’t imagine any woman in her right mind not wanting to marry him.”

  Raven didn’t want to hear any more. “Don’t you have work to do?”

  With a small chuckle Erica shook her head and said, “Not at the moment. You don’t know how excited I was to discover that you and Linc have a history.”

  “So what of it?”

  “You know what they say: history has a way of repeating itself.”

  Raven arched her eyebrow and narrowed her gaze. “History can also come back to haunt you. It’s my belief that what’s in the past should stay in the past.”

  “Not if it looks anything like Lincoln Corbain.”

  Before Raven could give a scorching retort there was another knock on her door. “Come in.”

  Megan, her secretary, opened the door and walked in carrying a beautifully wrapped box. “This was just delivered for you, Raven.” She placed the box on Raven’s desk and walked back out before a surprised Raven had a chance to thank her.

  Raven gazed at the box for a second before picking it up, wondering which one of her sisters had sent it. She began opening it, ignoring Erica’s curious gaze. Raven pulled out the white card that had been placed inside the box and began reading it:

  Another thing that I occasionally dream about is the memory of our walks on the beach. I hope this package helps you remember those special times, too.

  Linc

  Stunned, Raven stared at the card and reread it.

  “Well, who’s it from?” Erica asked without exhibiting the least bit of shame at being nosy.

  Raven lifted her head and looked at Erica. Seeing no reason not to tell her, she said, “It’s from Linc.”

  Placing the card on her desk, Raven removed the tissue paper stuffed inside the box. Tucked under it all was a beautiful glass case containing several beautiful seashells.

  A breathless astonished sigh escaped Raven’s lips as she stared at the gift Linc had sent her. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the sound of the ocean as they strolled along the seashore holding hands while looking for seashells.

  “Raven, you OK?”

  Raven slowly opened her eyes to see Erica staring at her. She looked back down at the item she held in her hands. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Erica smiled as she stood up. “Yes, simply beautiful. Umm, I’d even say expensive. That glass looks like real crystal. Not only does Linc Corbain look good, but the brother has good taste. I think I’ll leave you alone to think about whatever else he has that’s good.” She then walked out of the office, closing the door behind her.

  Raven leaned back in her chair as she stared down at the gift that had been delivered to her. She pursed her lips as she considered her predicament. Lincoln Corbain was pulling out all the stops to get next to her. He was using the one thing she couldn’t fight, and that was the memory of their time together in Daytona Beach.

  The man was definitely playing dirty.

  Seven

  Raven sat alone with a glass of wine in her hand as she studied the sights and sounds around her. Soft conversations flowed through the club and mixed in with the smooth sound of jazz music. Her gaze roamed the room, lingering and committing to memory those things she would need to make the article she was writing informative and interesting.

  She had selected the right place to use as the basis of her story. Leo’s, like so many other supper clubs that were now springing up in different cities around the country, had found its niche. She admired the Hardcastles for operating such an upscale establishment that was both formal and friendly. Supper clubs, which had once been local traditions, had quickly gotten replaced by franchise restaurants, mostly the bar-and-grill types. But those franchises did not provide the novel entertainment, delicious food, and coziness that supper clubs had. Restaurant entrepreneurs, in their haste to become dining giants, had lost sight of those things that were tried-and-true favorites. The Hardcastles had not lost sight of them, which was probably the reason people kept coming back.

  “Would you like to order dinner now?”

  Raven lifted her head to look up at the waiter who had appeared by her side. “No, not yet, but I’d love to have some more wine.”

  The older man nodded as he went about refilling her glass. After he left, she took a sip and began thinking about someone she had promised herself she would not think about: L
inc.

  Today he had sent her another gift, a small potted palm tree. The plant was gorgeous, and she’d found the perfect place in her house for it. The card that had accompanied the plant had said:

  Remember the palm trees swaying in the Florida breeze and our picnic under them as we watched the sun dip below the Atlantic Ocean.

  Linc

  Raven released a deep sigh. The problem she was having was the fact that she was remembering, which was something she didn’t want to do. Ever since the plant had arrived she’d had memories of her and Linc’s picnic on the beach one afternoon.

  During the day the beach had been crowded, but in the late afternoon you could usually find a secluded spot. They had found the perfect place under a cluster of palm trees. She remembered Linc spreading a blanket out on the sand. He’d then pulled her down on the blanket next to him. Opening the picnic basket the hotel had prepared for them, he had withdrawn grilled chicken sandwiches, chips, grapes, a bottle of wine, and two wineglasses. After filling both glasses, he had handed one to her and then raised his own. “Here’s to graduation in a few months, but more important, here’s to what has been a beautiful and special week,” he had murmured hoarsely.

  “To graduation and to a beautiful and special week,” she had repeated, touching her glass to his, then sipping the wine.

  Raven shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to the present, not at all happy that she’d had them in the past yet again. Thoughts and memories were intruding into her work time, and she couldn’t allow that to continue. No man had ever competed with her attention to her work assignments. And she was determined that Lincoln Corbain wouldn’t be the first.