His Southern Temptation

by Robin Covington

  “Well, I’d say you’re definitely in the top five of newsworthy topics today,” Michaela said as they slid into the side-by-side mani-pedi chairs. Her smooth and twang-free voice was perfectly suited for the tall, cool blonde.

  “What? They barely looked at me.”

  “Exactly. Talking about you is one thing, but staring is rude.” Michaela laughed.

  Her feet slid into the warm, swirling water and Taylor sighed as the tension left her body. Sleep had eluded her last night, but she’d had her anger for company.

  Replaying the scene from the jail in her head for the millionth time, Taylor still couldn’t believe how it had all gone down. Teague’s attitude wasn’t a big surprise—he’d written the manual for overbearing brothers with a stick up their ass. But Lucky was a different story. It hurt to have him treat her like a kid and not like the woman he knew intimately.

  She really couldn’t wait to get the hell out of this town.

  “Michaela. Why’d you pick Elliott?” She was mystified as to how the governor’s daughter could possibly have chosen to live here.

  “The official version is that a pediatric practice was for sale and I liked the location.” Michaela smiled, glancing down at the lovely young woman adding bath salts to the swirling water. “The real story is that I fell in love with Dolly’s peanut butter pie at the Comfort.”

  “Ah. So that’s why you married my crazy nephew,” Sissy Landon laughed.

  Looking up, Taylor watched Sissy lead a woman over to one of the two empty chairs near them, place the cape around her, and towel off her hair.

  Michaela put a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell Jackson. I don’t think his ego could handle it.”

  “His ego isn’t what I’m worried about.” Sissy shook her head, laughter spilling out so effortlessly, looking so much like Lucky that Taylor’s breath caught at the ache blooming in her chest. “That boy is so gone over you, he’d die on the spot if he lost you.”

  Michaela blushed, the pink starting in her cheeks and creeping down her neck into the top of her blouse. But the most remarkable thing was the way her eyes lit up at just the mention of her new husband’s name.

  Uneasy with the thought of staying anywhere because of one person, Taylor turned her attention back to her feet and the water bubbling and swishing around in the tub. She was off-kilter, her emotions in turmoil like the water, and she didn’t like it one bit.

  “Mary-Taylor, it’s good to see you again.” Sissy’s smile was genuine and Taylor couldn’t help but respond in kind, her mood lightening. “You staying in town long, sweetie?”

  “No, ma’am. For a couple more weeks.”

  “Well”—Sissy patted her client’s shoulder before handing her over to a stylist for service—“maybe we can convince you to stay.”

  “You sound like Lucky,” Taylor said.

  “Maybe you’ll believe one of us and come back home.” Lucky’s voice caught her off guard, and she turned to find him leaning against the wall.

  Taylor’s heart did a little flip. He was staring at her, his expression focused but open, softened by the hint of a tender smile on his lips. He silently mouthed “I’m sorry,” his hand sliding out of a jeans pocket and extending toward her, palm open, in a plea for her to accept his apology. She wanted to stay mad, really she did, but Lucky was one of the few men she knew who put the toilet seat down and apologized first when you had a fight. It was her duty to encourage his behavior by accepting his peace offering. She nodded and his grin split his face. The corresponding warmth in her chest had her smiling back like a loon.

  Sissy whirled around, her smile widening at the sight of her son. Lucky looked down on her, undisguised affection in his eyes as he leaned down to kiss the top her head. She grabbed his hair with both hands, lightly tugging him toward the empty chair until he collapsed in a long-legged lazy slouch.

  “Sit. You need a haircut,” Sissy ordered.

  “All right, Mom. No need to manhandle me.” Taylor watched as his mother spun him to face the mirror. Lucky caught her eye in the reflection and it occurred to her that he’d come looking for her.

  “You look like a mongrel with this scraggly hair. At least Uncle Sam kept you trimmed up.” Sissy pursed her lips in disapproval as she spritzed his hair with water and started to snip off the ends with precision and confidence of a woman who’d been doing it for most of her life. She flicked a glance up at Taylor in the mirror as she worked. “So, my boy is trying to get you to come home as well?”

  “Yes. He’s quite the convert since he returned to Elliott.”

  “I can’t say I’m sorry for that.” Sissy gazed fondly at her son in the mirror, and Taylor saw the ghost of years of motherly worry in her eyes. “It’s good to have him around. Sometimes it just takes a few years away to make you realize how great home really is.”

  Silence descended on the little group as two ladies began giving both her and Michaela their pedicures. Usually the one delivering the service, Taylor leaned backed into the massage chair, allowing it to lull her into a place where she was only on the receiving end of pleasurable attention.

  “So, Mary-Taylor, Lucky tells me you are going to buy a massage therapy place in Hawaii,” Sissy said.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m trained in massage therapy, aromatherapy, acupressure, and aesthetician services.” She noticed Lucky’s confused look in the mirror and quickly added, “Facials, skin care—those kinds of things. It isn’t exactly the physical therapy background I studied at school, but I love helping people.”

  “I’ve wanted to expand the salon to offer those kinds of services and give the spas in Roanoke a run for their money. You could open your business here.”

  Taylor sat upright in the chair, jostling the poor girl working on her toes and sloshing water on the floor.

  “Oh, darlin’, I’m sorry.” Sissy dropped her scissors and comb on the table, rushing over to help clean up the mess. A towel taking care of the damage, she laid a warm hand on Taylor’s, her blue eyes direct. “That was out of the blue, huh? Don’t worry, sugar, it’s just an old woman thinking out loud.”

  “You just surprised me. I never…”

  “I’ll show you the plans to expand into the empty space next door. I’d like to get your thoughts anyway.”

  “Mom.” Lucky filled the one word with a desperate warning.

  “Shush. I was just throwing ideas out there.”

  “Taylor, Jack never told me the story. Why did you leave Elliott?” Michaela asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

  Chatter around dropped to a low roar, a clear reminder that they weren’t alone in Elliott’s gossip central. Since she’d left straight from the ceremony seven years ago, no one had heard her side of the story. By her calculation, she’d just risen to number one on the gossip list for today.

  “Oh my God.” A nearby stylist dropped her hand, foil wrappers drifting to the floor unnoticed. “You’re the Mary-Taylor who punched out her groom at the altar and then left town in a stolen car!”

  “That would be my car,” Lucky said.

  “Oh Taylor, that’s awful!” Michaela said, horrified. Apparently violence against your betrothed while dressed in Vera Wang wasn’t commonplace in the governor’s mansion.

  “No, awful would’ve been finding out that Bobby was sleeping with the wedding planner after the ceremony was finished,” she said.

  “You’re right. What did your family say?”

  “Teague was great. My parents…” Aware of her audience, she tried to think of the best way to describe the total letdown her parents had served up along with the sit-down dinner for three hundred and fifty guests.

  “Your mama sure was mad at Lucky,” Sissy said. Taylor looked at Lucky to decipher her meaning. His gaze was steady, his mouth a straight line of displeasure at this turn in the conversation. They’d talked about her defunct wedding day a few times over the years, but he’d never mentioned any trouble with her mother.

  “Mom, we don�
�t need to get into that now. It was a long time ago,” Lucky said.

  “No, Mrs. Landon.” Taylor leaned forward in her chair, jostling the poor girl who was probably ready to staple her ass to the pedicure chair. “Spill. I never heard this part before.”

  “Call me Sissy. Well, I wasn’t invited, so I didn’t see it firsthand, but your mama smacked Lucky right across the face in front of the preacher and everything.”

  “She did what?” Taylor hopped down from the chair and walked on her heels, toes splayed with those little foam thingies, to stand in front of his chair. Sissy stepped back as Taylor wedged in between his legs, hands planted on the strong muscles of his thighs, forcing him to look at her and answer her question.

  “It wasn’t a big deal.” He swallowed, his breathing a little heavier now. Taylor shivered when his hands encircled her wrists, tugging her a little closer so no one else could hear them. “Your mother followed you out of the church and she saw everything.” He let the impact of his words sink in, tightening his hold on her as understanding crept into her brain. “She saw us.”

  “She blamed you,” Taylor said.

  “Yes.”

  “She thought you were the reason I didn’t marry Bobby.”

  “One of the reasons.”

  “Did you try to tell her the truth?” She freed a hand from his grasp, tracing the stubble on his jaw with fingers tingling from the emotions coursing through her body.

  “I think I wanted it to be true. There was a reason I wasn’t inside the church.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh.”

  Taylor stroked his lip with her fingertip, his breath warming her skin where it was wet from the touch of his tongue. She inhaled sharply, her lungs burning from the fire catching in her marrow. It was too much, too intimate for this place. The town tongues would be wagging but she really didn’t care.

  She leaned in closer, making sure no one heard except Lucky.

  “Don’t sleep at Beck’s tonight.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Please tell me I’m not hallucinating.”

  Lucky paused in the doorway to Taylor’s room, his breathing already accelerated from taking the stairs two at a time. The sight before him made his knees weaker than his first day in the field as a newbie Marine recruit. He grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling at her feet.“

  It depends. What do you see?” Taylor looked over her shoulder, looking suspiciously innocent.

  “It looks like you’re wearing your high school cheerleading uniform.” Lucky lingered where he stood, savoring the view. It was déjà vu, taking him right back to that day on Main Street when his dick had decided to clue the rest of him in on what had been in front of his face all the time. “Did you put that on for me?”

  She laughed, bending over to pick up her pom-poms off the floor. Sweet Jesus, she was actually wearing panties, and the soft folds of the skirt and the silky material of the underwear framed her ass perfectly. When Taylor stood up, her eyes dancing with mischief and an extra swoosh in her step, he knew she was deliberately taunting him.

  “No. You took too long and I started cleaning out my closet. I decided to see if my uniform still fit.” She coasted a hand along the waistband where it laid against her flat, toned stomach, the gem in her belly-button ring twinkling in the muted light of the room. “It’s a little snug”—she trailed her touch upward, palming her breasts and making him groan“—especially here.”

  Lucky let go of the doorframe to reach down and stroke himself through his jeans. He couldn’t help himself. Arousal heated his skin with electricity and fire. Taylor followed his movements with her eyes, her pink tongue sneaking out to swipe her lips, leaving them wet and inviting.

  “I didn’t know you got off on costumes.”

  “I don’t.” He moved farther into the room, toeing off his boots and removing his jacket. Her eyes widened as he reached back, tugging his T-shirt off in one motion. He was moving fast, slow seduction the last thing on his fevered mind when his college wet dream was standing in front of him in the sexy, touchable flesh. “But I definitely get off on you in that uniform. It has been one of my go-to fantasies since that day I hit Mrs. Park’s Buick.”

  “I remember.” She moaned as he reached out and snagged her waistband with his finger, dragging her flush against his body. He leaned in for a kiss, full tongue and open mouth from the start. He was past the gentle push and pull of foreplay, and the sharp nip of her teeth against his lip said she wasn’t playing either. They both knew how good it was going to be, how the slide of their bodies against each other would make them forget to breathe.

  Lucky released his hold on her body, only their kiss maintaining contact, as he undid the fly of his jeans. The relief of the pressure against his dick was so good he hissed against her mouth, prompting her to withdraw and look down. He followed her gaze, blood sizzling when she reached out and slid a fingertip over the head of his cock where it peeked out from the opening. Only sheer force of will kept him on his feet.

  “Commando, huh?”

  “I didn’t have any clothes at Beck’s.”

  “You won’t need any tonight.”

  Taylor eased her hands inside his jeans, pushing them down to the tops of his thighs, the contrast of the cooler air on his skin making him shiver. The glide of her palm along his length made him grit his teeth, the sensations overloading his already taxed system of nerve endings and receptors. The pre-come leaking from the slit made her caress smooth, hot, and he didn’t even try to resist the urge to snap his hips and fuck into her grip.

  He didn’t know how he was going to stand it when she left. He’d screwed up when he let his mind linger on the chance of them being more than stolen days in exotic locales. Now he pictured them here, at the Comfort, the farm—it was dangerous to daydream when she was so sure she wasn’t staying. Desperation flared in his gut, edging his passion with something darker.

  “Turn around,” he growled.

  His voice was harsher than he intended, but the spark in her eyes told him she liked it. Taylor swiveled, hips swaying, the pleats in her skirt highlighting the curve of her tight little ass. Lucky nudged her from behind, rubbing himself against the fabric, fingers digging into her hips to keep her tight against him from shoulder to thigh. She leaned back into him, her panting breaths in time with his own ragged gulps of air.

  Releasing his tight grip on her body, Lucky traced a path over her flat stomach, teasing just along the edge of her top with a whisper-like touch. Taylor arched into him, the outline of her nipple rings visible under the stretchy fabric. Using one hand to release the zipper of the short top, he pushed it up until he had unfettered access to her flesh. Using both hands now, he cupped, teased, caressed her breasts, tugging on the rings until she gasped and writhed against him. She was exquisite. The way she gave herself completely over to her passion thickened his blood, making his breath stutter in his chest.

  “Get them wet,” he groaned.

  Lucky pressed fingers against her lips, encouraging her to suck them into her hot mouth, rolling them with her tongue until they were slick. Easing them out, he wasted no time using them to moisten a straining nipple, stroking it until a cry of desperation erupted from Taylor’s throat.

  “Stop, I’m going to come.” She reached up, grabbing him by the wrist to cease his movement.

  For several moments they stood still, two bodies strung so tight by passion they might just break from the strain. Taylor finally broke the silence.

  “So, this uniform is a fantasy of yours?” she asked, her voice a rough, sexy purr.

  “No. My cock inside you while you wore this uniform is a fantasy of mine.” He pressed kisses along the soft curve of her neck, inhaling the uniquely Taylor mix of sunshine and coconut. He eyed the bed in front of them, the bed from her youth, four-postered and canopied in an awful light-purple concoction of ruffles. “In my fantasy, your legs were wrapped around me on the front seat of my truck.”

&n
bsp; Taylor moaned, the vibrations echoing along his skin. “Mine were all here. You sneaking into my room, taking me here.”

  “You thought of me? That’s so hot.” Lucky licked along her skin, sucking just below her ear, not caring if he marked her or not. The idea of Taylor wanting him in this bed made his hands tremble as he reached under the skirt to ease her panties down her legs. “Baby, I need to be inside you now.”

  “What’s stopping you?

  Nothing. Nothing but the condom he fished out of a pocket and smoothed over his erection. In the span of few breaths he was in heaven. Hot, wet, tight—her body clasped him, the pulses of her muscles in time with the heartbeat drumming in her chest. Taylor, unsteady and moaning, reached out to grab one of the bedposts, gaining enough leverage to push back against him and shatter what little control he had left. Taylor freed a hand to bring one of his to where she needed him the most. Their fingers, intertwined, caressed her clit, making her shake against him in pleasure.

  “Don’t come.” He bit down on the soft spot between her shoulder and neck, knowing it made her hotter. And that was where he wanted her—desperate, aching—thinking twice about walking away from this.

  “Oh my God, Lucky. Don’t tease.”

  “I always take care of you, baby. Trust me.”

  He eased out of her slick heat, his inward groan eclipsed only by her keen of protest. Shifting her around to place her on her back, Lucky knelt between her legs, licking the muscular curve of her calf, the sensitive silk of her inner thigh, until he reached the place where she was hot and wet for him. Taylor’s body, tense one moment, eased and melted beneath the kiss of his mouth against her sex. She was sweet, and he was helpless to stop from tonguing her, suckling her until she fractured under him, her passion his and only his.

  Lucky rose on rubbery legs, climbing onto the bed to lean over her as his cock slid in to the hilt. Taylor was writhing beneath him, her eyes closed and plump bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she rode the aftershocks of her climax. He loved keeping her here, on the edge for as long as he could—they would go for hours driving each other crazy. But tonight, he needed to move, needed to sate his thirst for her and to show her what she did to him.