Some Like It Hot

by Brenda Jackson

  Although she tried not to think about Tyrone, each day she missed him fiercely, and when she went to bed at night she was reminded of all the things they had done together, and not just the sexual things, but other things as well, the conversations they’d shared and the places they had visited. He was a talented musician and a very intelligent man. He knew a lot about law, and she had discovered that talking to him about some of the cases she’d handled had fascinated him.

  She checked her watch. Her mother and brothers had left the office over an hour ago with instructions that she close up shop within fifteen minutes. She tossed aside the file she’d been reading as she thought about her plans for that night. It was Friday and although she had gotten a call from Rafe earlier, inviting her to dinner, she had turned him down flat, not wanting to see him again. After Tyrone, Rafe no longer had a place in her mind or her heart. Besides, Tyrone had shown her how a real man treated his lady in the bedroom.

  She stood, stretched, and decided to stop by the bookstore on her way home and pick up Walter Mosley’s latest novel. After preparing something quick for dinner, she would spend the rest of her evening in bed, reading.

  Sydney turned another page. Already she was up to page one hundred. The story held her spellbound. She had come home and taken some leftover spaghetti out of the freezer, fixed a salad, and enjoyed a tasty dinner. Then she had taken a relaxing shower before slipping into her nightgown and getting settled for the night.

  She had been curled up in bed with her book for a few hours when she heard her doorbell ring. At first she didn’t want to answer it, thinking it was one of her brothers, whom she adored, then decided she was really in a bad way if she wanted to avoid them, although she didn’t think she would be good company for anyone tonight.

  Slipping out of bed, she put on a robe and made her way to the door, flicking on a light as she moved around the room. Taking precaution, she looked through her peephole—and her heart stopped.

  She held her hand to her heart and quickly opened the door, barely able to catch her breath. “Tyrone, what are you doing here,” she asked breathlessly, not believing he was really there. Her throat felt tight and her eyes burned with tears she refused to let fall.

  He looked so good, so darn good. And seeing him standing there, under the soft lighting of her apartment doorway, she became even more aware of just how handsome he was. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a pullover Washington Redskins sweater, and she thought that no man deserved to look that good.

  “May I come in?”

  She nodded and took a step back to let him enter. When she closed the door and turned to face him, her throat went dry at the way he was staring at her, and that all-too-familiar shiver of sexual arousal coursed through her once more. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Didn’t you get the message I left for you last week?”

  He nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off her. “Yeah, I got it, but something you said bothered me.”

  Sydney looked confused, trying to remember just what she’d said that could have bothered him.

  “I don’t understand. What did I say?” she asked.

  “You said that everything worked out the way I wanted.”

  She nodded. “Well, didn’t it work out the way you wanted?”

  “No.”

  His response threw her off balance. She brought her hand to her heart. “And why didn’t it?” she asked softly.

  For a long moment he didn’t say anything. He just stood there and studied her as if he were trying to find the right words. Finally he spoke. “I lost my control that night and unintentionally placed you at risk of getting pregnant, Sydney. But once you left New York, I discovered that I lost something else that night as well.”

  Sydney’s pulse began beating rapidly. “What?”

  “My heart. And because I lost my heart to you, a part of me wanted you to be pregnant. It may have been wrong and unfair to you, but I wanted to get a phone call from you saying that you were carrying my baby inside of you.”

  Sydney leaned back against the door as her knees went to jelly. “What are you saying, Tyrone?”

  He took a step toward her. “I’m saying that I love you more than I thought was possible for a man to love a woman. I’m saying that I wanted you to be pregnant with my child. And what I haven’t said yet is that I don’t want things to end between us.”

  Sydney nodded, still confused. “Are you saying that you want us to continue our fling?”

  He shook his head. “No. I want it to become something else, like a very serious relationship that will eventually lead to us getting married.” A gentle smile touched his lips. “Although it would suit me fine if we skip the serious-relationship part and move on to marriage.”

  He took another step toward her, until he was so close that her back was pressed against the door. “But you can only say yes if you love me as deeply as I love you. I may be wrong, but I think you do. I believe that only a woman who truly loves a man could give herself to him the way you gave yourself to me. And a part of me wants to believe…has to believe…that you love me. Do you, Sydney?”

  Sydney couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. The man she loved had just told her that he loved her and wanted her to have his baby.

  “Sydney?” He tenderly lifted up her chin with his finger and met her wet gaze.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “I love you, but I didn’t think I could tell you since we had agreed not to take things seriously. But I couldn’t help loving you. I even admit that I fell in love with you that same day we met in Leo’s.”

  Tyrone smiled. “It took me a bit longer to admit it, but I fell in love with you that day we met, too. I stayed up most of the night writing that piece of music you heard me play on my sax in my hotel room. I had composed that entire piece while thoughts of you filled my mind. Even when you asked me the name of it, I couldn’t let myself tell you that I had named it ‘Sydney,’ after you.”

  A huge smiled spread across her face. “Oh, Tyrone, you did?”

  “Yes. So you were right, it was a love ballad. Without realizing it, I was telling you with my music just how much you meant to me and how much I wanted you in my life.”

  His expression then grew serious. “After you left New York, I kept thinking about everything, all my feelings and emotions, and I was forced to put two and two together. Then I knew that I loved you and began missing you something fierce. Over the last three weeks I haven’t been able to eat, sleep, or think straight.”

  She nodded. “I’ve been missing you something fierce, too.”

  His smile widened at her admission. “So what do you think we should do to get out of our misery?”

  Instead of answering him, she rose on tiptoes and brought her mouth to his, slipping her tongue between his lips. His mouth opened wide over hers, taking everything she was offering.

  Moments later he pulled back, breaking the kiss, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small white jewelry box. “This is for you.”

  With shaking fingers she took the box from him and opened it, then let out a gasp of happiness when she saw the beautiful diamond engagement ring. “Oh, Tyrone,” she said as more tears filled her eyes.

  “Will you marry me, Sydney, and be my best friend, lover, confidante, wife, and the mother of my babies?”

  Sydney’s heart soared with all the love and happiness she felt. “Yes!” she said through misty eyes as he placed the ring on her finger.

  “And I don’t want a long engagement,” he said immediately.

  “Neither do I,” she agreed.

  Smiling, he met her gaze. “Do you have any qualms about moving to D.C.?”

  She shook her head happily. “No, none.”

  “Good.” He took a step closer, bringing their bodies in contact, and she felt the largeness of his erection pressed against her. “Do you have any qualms about my carrying you into your bedroom and making hot passionate love to you?”

  “No, none wh
atsoever,” she said in a deep, sultry voice.

  “All night?”

  “Yes, all night,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

  “I agree.” Tyrone picked her up in his arms, she pointed out the direction he needed to take, and he carried her into the bedroom, knowing that the irresistible attraction that had once consumed them had transformed into a love that would sustain them for the rest of their days.

  He placed her on the bed, then joined her there. “Let me love you, Sydney,” he pleaded in a deep, raspy voice that was filled with emotions, the same heartfelt emotions that were shining in his eyes.

  And she did. She let him love her with all the love the two of them could generate as they sealed their future and reaffirmed their love in a very special way.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  Flashbulbs went off as Tyrone and Sydney stepped out of the huge brick church where her parents had gotten married over thirty-five years ago.

  Cheers went up from the multitude who had come to see the beautiful bride emerge on the arm of her handsome groom. Sydney glanced up at the man who was now her husband and didn’t think she had ever felt as happy as she did that very moment.

  The wedding had been beautiful, and no doubt the society column of tomorrow’s paper would boast of the forty-piece orchestra, all friends of Tyrone, who had performed “Irresistible Attraction,” a special musical piece that the groom had composed and dedicated to his wife.

  Tyrone turned to Sydney. Although he hadn’t liked the idea of waiting six months to get married, he had to admit that it had been well worth it. Rosalind Corbain, Sydney’s mother, had gone all out to make sure their wedding day had the perfect fairy-tale ending, including the horse-drawn carriage that awaited them in front of the church.

  He leaned down and kissed her as more cheers went up from the crowd. He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “I love you, Mrs. Hardcastle.”

  Sydney’s smile was radiant. “And I love you, Mr. Hardcastle.”

  His hand tightened on hers as he glanced at the crowd. It seemed the Corbain family was popular in Memphis, because a lot of people had come to see the judge’s beautiful daughter get married. “Are you ready?” he asked her softly.

  She nodded as she glanced around at the crowd. “Yes, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Tyrone nodded. “All right then.” He reached down and tightened his hand around hers. “Hold on tight. We’re going to make a run for it.” Tyrone and Sydney raced down the steps toward the waiting carriage as pelts of rice showered down on them.

  Once inside the carriage, he pulled Sydney into his arms and kissed her, thanking God for bringing her into his life and for providing that irresistible attraction that had pulled them together—permanently.

  When he slowly and reluctantly removed his mouth from hers, he met a gaze that was glazed with desire. They both knew they had a huge reception to endure before they could finally sneak off to start their honeymoon, a week in Hawaii, compliments of her parents, followed by another week in the Virgin Islands, compliments of his. It seemed that both sets of parents were eager for them to start making babies.

  Not able to help himself, Tyrone’s lips sought possession of her mouth once more, and when he heard the soft moan that rose within her throat he was tempted to strip her naked then and there.

  Reluctantly he pulled away and blew out a frustrated breath. The wait was killing him.

  Sydney’s hand covered his, understanding how he felt. They had agreed to stop being intimate three months before the wedding to make their wedding night extra special. And now the two of them were burning up in anticipation. “Just think, sweetheart, two weeks all alone, together.”

  He smiled and looked at her lips with yearning. They were slightly swollen from the enthusiastic kiss he had given her when the minister had proclaimed them man and wife, as well all the kisses that had followed. He shifted his gaze away from her lips to look into her eyes. “No,” he murmured softly. “We have the rest of our lives together.”

  Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her yet again.

  The Hunter

  For we cannot but speak the things

  which we have seen and heard.

  —ACTS 4:20 (NKJV)

  One

  Hunter Sloan wondered if a man could die from horniness, and if so, he was about to take his last breath.

  His sexually intense affair with Mallory Standish had ended six months ago, but still, as he watched her pace back and forth in his office after arriving unexpectedly less than ten minutes ago, he couldn’t help but admit the time he’d spent with her had been unforgettable, which was one of the main reasons for his present sexually deprived state. Since they had split he had not been attracted to any other female.

  Mallory was everything a man could want in a woman. She was intelligent, sensitive, witty, and passionate with a capital P. The latter is what he remembered the most. It was hard to think about anything else while his gaze took in everything about her. She was too damn good-looking for her own good, not to mention his. Everything about her was a total turn-on, especially her walk…even when she was clearly agitated about something.

  At thirty-four he was a man who avoided commitments, and Mallory had decided at some point during their four-month affair that she wanted more. Unfortunately, more was the one thing he could not give her or any other woman. It had been a mutually agreed-upon decision, that since they wanted different things out of the relationship, the best thing to do was to go their separate ways. So they had, and this was the first time they had seen each other since that time.

  And he was definitely seeing her.

  His gaze scanned her from head to toe, taking in the dark chocolate coloring of her skin, her pert nose, high cheekbones, and bright red lips. Then there were the dark brown spiral curls that crowned her face and bathed her shoulders, giving her a radiant look. And he definitely liked the business suit she was wearing. It was chic, stylish, and fit the curves on her body as if it had been designed just for her.

  There wasn’t a time she didn’t look good in anything she’d worn, even jeans…especially jeans. His favorite outfit had been tight jeans with a low-cut top. But he had to admit the outfit she was wearing now was running a close second. The skirt was short, stopping way above her knees and showing off long, gorgeous legs—legs he distinctively remembered having the ability to wrap tightly around him while he thrust in and out of her with quick and deep strokes. Then there were her breasts. He couldn’t help but recall how it felt to caress them, cup their fullness in the palm of his hands, and tease her nipples with the tip of his tongue. There also were those times when he used to lick around her navel before his lips would nuzzle lower to give her an intimate kiss between her…

  “Hunter! Are you listening to me?”

  He quickly met her gaze. She was annoyed with his distraction, but he was glad she was clueless as to why his mind had shifted elsewhere. With tremendous mental as well as a physical effort, Hunter forced his attention back to what Mallory had been saying, and away from the enormous erection that was straining against his zipper. Sitting behind his desk, he shifted in his chair, grateful that she had no idea as to the torture she was putting him through, and even more grateful that she didn’t know that he hadn’t slept with another woman since their breakup.

  “Let me get this straight, Mallory,” he said in a somewhat strained voice. “You are accusing your brother-in-law of being unfaithful?”

  Hunter saw her uncertainty when she answered. “Yes and no. All I know is what I saw.”

  Hunter nodded. “How about telling me again what you saw.” He hated admitting it, but he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Instead, he had been wondering how long it would take to strip her naked, like he’d done once before when she’d come to his office unexpectedly. He would never forget how he had taken her on this very desk. “And maybe it will be
better if you sit down,” he added, not knowing how much longer he could handle seeing the sway of her hips as she paced back and forth wearing out his carpet, not to mention his libido.

  Thankfully, she nodded and took the chair across from him. But then he almost groaned when she crossed her legs, which made the already short skirt inch a little higher, showing a better glimpse of her thighs. They were thighs he used to ride, from the front, from the back, right to left, any way and every way he could. Even now he could hear in his mind the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

  His attention was drawn to the gold ankle bracelet on her right ankle. He had given it to her after they had dated a couple of months. It had been a gift for her twenty-eighth birthday. He was surprised she was still wearing it and a part of him was glad that she was. He would never forget the night he had given it to her and how she hadn’t wasted any time thanking him in some of the most provocative ways. It was definitely a pleasant memory.

  He shifted in his chair again and decided it would be safer to concentrate on something that was not pleasant, like going to dinner at his aunt Judith’s house that evening, where she would relentlessly remind him that he needed to settle down, get married, and have a lot of babies for her and his mother to spoil. In fact it was his aunt’s fault that he had met Mallory in the first place.

  Aunt Judith had convinced him that he needed to hire an event planner for his parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary party. He had delegated the task of finding someone to his aunt and would never forget the day she showed up at his office with Mallory in tow. The attraction between them had been quick and immediate and his life hadn’t been the same since.

  Hunter sighed as he brought his thoughts back to the present and his gut clenched when Mallory nervously swept her lips with the tip or her tongue. Boy, he used to thoroughly enjoy that tongue. Forcing his mind back to the business at hand, he again prompted her. “Now, what makes you think he’s cheating?”