His Southern Temptation

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His Southern Temptation Page 11

by Robin Covington


  “No.” The sheriff’s word was clear. “I can’t let you settle this the way to you want to, son. Let him up and we’ll do this the right way.”

  Lucky cursed. He levered himself off the guy, stopping when he caught the triumphant smirk twisting the bastard’s lips. Lucky didn’t even hesitate before he slammed his fist down on the slug’s face, connected with the sweet spot, and knocked him out.

  The sheriff cursed loudly and creatively as Lucky hoisted himself up to a fully upright position. He smiled as he turned to face Burke, allowing his self-satisfied grin free rein as he dusted the dirt off his jeans.

  “He’s all yours, Sheriff.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Are you feeling better, jailbird?”

  Taylor emerged from the steamy bathroom, clean and wearing one of Lucky’s shirts. He sat on her bed among the purple ruffles with a hot mug of coffee in his hand. His hair was wet, his shirt off and jeans unbuttoned.

  “Damn. You’re a beautiful sight.” She reached out to grab the coffee and flinched. There was an ugly bruise blossoming on the upper part of her right arm from where the crazy guy had grabbed her. “I know I was only there for a couple of hours, but it seemed like Burke questioned me forever.”

  Lucky slid to the rug on the floor, dragging her down with him and tucking her under his arm. They relaxed into each other, drinking coffee and enjoying the moment of quiet after the craziest day ever. The day she got a glimpse of the Lucky she never knew before.

  She’d never seen Lucky—hell, she’d never seen anyone look like that. He’d been as hard as the surrounding Blue Ridge Mountains and eerily devoid of any emotion. No anger. No fear. Not even determination rippled across the familiar planes of his face. Lucky had looked like a machine, a futuristic robot that resembled a human being until you pulled back the layer of synthetic skin and uncovered wires and computer chips. Now she understood what he’d done in the military. Now she understood why it would take him at least twenty-four hours with her before he’d act like a human being.

  “Tay. You okay, baby?” He sat down his mug and tugged her closer. His hands now seemed larger and more powerful. “You’re like ice. Are you hurt? Do you need something?”

  “I need you to be honest with me,” Taylor answered, surprising herself with her bluntness. He wanted her to stay and she needed to strip away all the crap hidden between them. “What did you do in the Marines? Was it even the Marines? The way you bashed that guy it was—”

  “Hey. Slow down.” Lucky pulled her in close and she slid onto his lap, straddling him, eye-to-eye. He tucked a finger under chin, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing softly against her lower lip. “Do you really want to talk about this now?”

  She nodded, gripping his shoulder tighter just in case he tried to put distance between them. Right now she couldn’t stand to be any farther apart than what clothes dictated. Part of her worried that if she lost the physical connection with him right now, she’d never really understand him.

  “Damn, Tay. There are things I can’t tell anyone. Not sure if I’d want to even if I could.” His arms tightened around her as if he needed her assurance. “I was in the Marines. I had unique talents and they put me in special training—sharpshooting, advanced hand-to-hand combat, the strategy of eliminating targets efficiently. They loaned me out when people had special projects.”

  Taylor watched him closely, the play of pain and pride mixed in his expression. “You killed people.”

  “Yes. Lots of people. And I was very good at it.” Lucky lifted a hand, the tenderness as he traced the curve of her cheek in stark contrast to the subject matter. “I did what my country asked me to do in order to complete our mission. I think I did some good.”

  “So why’d you leave?”

  “I’d close my eyes and dream of things you can’t have in that life. When I started worrying about getting killed, I knew it was time to leave.”

  “Are you going to kill Eddie Wilkes?” Taylor held her breath, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

  “Only if I have to.”

  “What does he want with me?’

  “That’s what I’m going to find out.” He nuzzled her jaw, the soft stubble on his cheeks tickling her skin. “I’ll make you safe. I promise.”

  Lucky kissed her lips, lightly at first and then with more pressure when she leaned into it. She needed hours in bed with him and only him to completely reassure herself that this was her Lucky, her lover, her friend. His large hands stroked her back, long swipes that covered as much square footage as possible, telegraphing without words that he had her and she was safe. Wanted. Needed.

  Lucky’s long fingers coasted up the placket on his borrowed shirt, her passion burning hotter and hotter as each button slipped through the hole and exposed her to his touch. She arched into his hands, pressing her breasts against his palms, silently begging for him to grasp the tiny rings and tug. Just the thought of his mouth on her nipples, wet and hot, caused a rush of liquid heat to flood her core.

  As if he read her mind, Lucky’s fingers released the last button and dipped lower, and found the aching spot between her legs.

  “Oh my God,” she panted against his shoulder, her nipples grazing the hard planes of his chest and tightening into sharp buds. She lifted up on her knees and reached between them to pull down his zipper and shove his jeans away, exposing the stiff length of his cock to her touch. Lucky sucked in a harsh breath and bucked up into her stroking grip.

  “Yeah,” He growled into her ear, nipping hard on the tender lobe when she lowered herself down on his dick. “Wait. Tay, you feel so good, but we don’t—”

  “I’m safe. Are you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No. It’s okay. I want this. Just the two of us. Nothing between us anymore.” Taylor cried out as she descended again, feeling the stretch of his full width. It was different. She could feel his heat, the ropy veins under the satin smooth length of him, could feel him grow harder inside her.

  Lucky gripped her hips, his eyes dark, pupils blown with desire. “Nothing between us. The way it should be.”

  He drove up into her body over and over again. She should have been in the lead from her position, but Lucky’s fingers dug into her hips, controlling the depth, the rhythm of their lovemaking. She was spiraling fast, the beginnings of her orgasm causing the edges of her vision to blur.

  Taylor leaned forward, taking his mouth in a kiss, their tongues dueling, sweeping to taste every hidden crevice. She whimpered at the change in angle, sliding her clit against the ridges of his abdomen with each thrust. She sped up the rise and fall of her body on his cock, the slap of their bodies punctuating their moans.

  Lucky released her mouth, his cry erupting in a roar with one last, deep, hard thrust. She came with him, the pleasure hard and swift, lovely and complete. She floated, anchored only by the man beneath her, inside her, and the heavy weight of their mutual need for each other.

  “You didn’t ask the most important question,” Lucky said, his teeth nipping lightly along her jaw and waking up her sensitive nerve endings all over again.

  “What question is that?”

  “You never asked what I dreamed about. What I wanted more than the job.”

  She couldn’t meet his eyes. This was too intense—even after the sex they’d just had. But he clearly wanted her to ask the question, needed to tell her the answer. After what he’d done for her today, she couldn’t refuse. The constriction in her chest made a deep breath impossible, but Taylor formed the question on a sharp exhale. “What did you dream about?”

  He pulled back, only the fraction of space necessary to look her in the eye. Pausing as he waited for her to lift her face and face his honesty. She knew what he was going to say, and if her overtaxed system survived the next few seconds they might have a shot at making this work.

  Lucky smiled. “You. Every damn night I dreamed of you in that wedding dress, stealing my car and my heart.”

 
; Chapter Seventeen

  “Eddie Wilkes, if you touch Taylor Elliott again I will kill you.”

  Lucky barged past the assistant and a startled security man and entered the expensively appointed office of the man who hid his numerous criminal activities behind the facade of a successful financier. Jack was fast on his heels, having insisted on providing backup for this field trip.

  Eddie was seated behind a big modern desk in the office overlooking the floor of the largest bank he owned in downtown Roanoke. Eddie didn’t even flinch, calmly putting down his pen and lifting a remote that closed the curtains and gave them privacy. Mr. Clean leaned on a ledge to the right of the desk, his only acknowledgement a nod in their direction. Lucky wasn’t worried about a gunfight—he’d brought a piece—but he doubted Eddie would try to off him at one of his legitimate locations.

  “Mr. Landon. Mr. Cantrell. I figured you’d stop by after what happened yesterday.”

  “I’m going to make this clear, Eddie.” Lucky spat out the words as he leaned against the desk and into Wilkes’s personal space. He gave the guy mental kudos when he didn’t even flinch. “Taylor’s off-limits. One hair on her head gets knocked out of place by a brisk wind and you’re a dead man.”

  “Landon, I have no doubt you can very easily follow through with your threat, but this is business. Sarah Morgan took something that belongs to me and I think your Taylor knows where it is.”

  The way he said “your Taylor” made his skin crawl. “She doesn’t. Leave her alone.”

  “I wish I could, but this is about money, and I can’t let it go.” Eddie’s eyes were devoid of any warmth. He was so cold-blooded not even the mention of money brightened his demeanor. Lucky filed the observation in the back of his mind. Eddie wouldn’t act rashly or emotionally—anything he did would be calculated and precise to get the results he wanted. And that included using Taylor.

  “What kind of money are we talking about?” Jack asked, reminding Lucky and everyone else he was standing by.

  “Two hundred thousand dollars,” Eddie said, his tone sour.

  Lucky snorted out a laugh. “What happened, Eddie? You yell out your account passwords when you come?”

  Eddie chuckled, the humor never quite alleviating the flatness in his eyes. “I don’t, but apparently Bodean Taggert does. Sarah Morgan took my money and I want it back.”

  “So you didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance?” Lucky asked.

  “No. Although I can’t promise I won’t after I get my money back.” Eddie leaned back in his chair, a cold smile on his face. He was enjoying himself. “When you find her, you could bring her to me and I’ll pay you. Give you a little more cash to help bail out the old family farm.”

  Lucky wasn’t surprised. Eddie didn’t get where he was without knowing his opponent, but the implication that he might involve his family in this mess made his palms itch for the familiar weight of his gun. He leaned over a little bit more and saw the tiniest twitch of alarm just below Eddie’s left eye. Good. You should be afraid.

  “Tell you what, asshole. You’re going to leave Taylor alone or I’m going to kill you. Not Mr. Clean over there—although I’d love get a piece of him. Not some poor little schmuck you send to my house—you. I’m done looking for Sarah Morgan, so you’re going to have to find her yourself.”

  “That’s too bad, Mr. Landon.” Eddie pushed back in his chair, standing to look Lucky in the eye. “I’d hoped we could do some business together. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  “If I come looking for you again, I’m pulling my gun. Fair warning,” Lucky said and turned to stalk out the door with Jack. They walked in lockstep, a casual pace calculated to send a message to Eddie, who was no doubt watching them on his security cameras. They weren’t scared and they weren’t running. Lucky wasn’t worried for himself, but Eddie was just crazy enough to go after Taylor. It wasn’t until they cleared the building and pulled away in Lucky’s truck that Jack broke the silence.

  “So what’s next?”

  “We find Sarah Morgan,” Lucky said. “It’s the only way to make sure Taylor is safe.”

  …

  “Thanks for stopping by to visit me on my house arrest.”

  Taylor laughed and dodged the swat Lucky aimed at her ass, but didn’t resist when he pulled her back against him as he leaned against the Elliott House kitchen island. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she snuggled back into the comfort of his warm, hard body.

  Michaela and Jack sat on the barstools, the remains of the meal they’d brought over from the Southern Comfort scattered on the counter. Taylor had been on the verge of a hissy fit when they’d shown up, offering conversation and laughs with good friends. She was going a little stir-crazy in this house and needed the diversion.

  “Stop bitching, Tay,” Lucky growled, emphasizing his admonition with a nip at her earlobe. “It’s been two days. You act like you’re serving a life sentence at Alcatraz.”

  “Easy for you to say. You get to leave the house and see people.”

  Lucky cupped her jaw in his hand, turning her head so she had to make eye contact. His lips were curved in a sexy smile, but his eyes burned with a heat that usually led to activities not appropriate for company.

  “I always make it up to you at night, don’t I?” He kissed her mouth, a soft brush of their lips, a quick swipe of his tongue. Her hands involuntarily rose, grabbing his hair and drawing his mouth back down to hers. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night when I—”

  “Whoa. Okay. Down boy.” Jack stood up and grabbed his beer off the counter with one hand and Lucky’s arm with the other. “Michaela promised me I’d get to watch the game if I came over here tonight and let her get in some girl talk with Taylor. Let’s go.”

  Taylor laughed as she watched the two friends walk down the hallway, joking and shoving as they made their way to the family room.

  “I hope they don’t break anything. Mother will arrange for both of them to be killed.” Taylor sat down next her new friend, enjoying the easy way between the two of them. They’d talked often since the pedicure date, and Taylor admired the gentle, quiet way Michaela approached her life. She seemed so sure of everything.

  “I don’t know how they both lived long enough to grow into adulthood. All four of the boys seemed hell-bent on getting into trouble.” Michaela smiled as she sipped her wine.

  “Yeah, but they made growing up here a lot of fun.”

  “I know I loved it at first sight.” Michaela paused, “So, will you stay and go into business with Sissy?”

  “Maybe.” Taylor wasn’t sure how to explain all the crap swirling around in her head. Pros. Cons. All valid and equally important. It came down to whether she was going to follow her head or her heart. “I’ve seen Sissy’s plans and they’re wonderful. The new place will be open, modern, and luxurious, but not too over-the-top for Elliott. My research shows the market is ripe for this kind of business.”

  “But…?”

  “But the business part is the easy decision. I just need to get smart on the business climate, run my numbers, and get a hefty loan. The hard part is Lucky.”

  With Lucky in the equation, staying wasn’t the only option, but it sure was becoming a damn appealing one.

  “He really wants you to stay.” Taylor was surprised at Michaela’s observation. “He hasn’t said anything outright, at least not to me, but you can tell. I only know a little that Jack has told me about the two of you, but I think this is something Lucky has wanted for a long time. He hides a lot behind the jokes, but not this. He lives and breathes for you.”

  “I don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. I don’t want to make a mistake when so much is on the line.”

  “My love life was a disaster”—Michaela looked over to where Jack and Lucky had disappeared, her eyes turning a little misty with her memories—“until I met Jack. And while it wasn’t perfect from the moment we met, when I finally figur
ed out he was the one, it made every other choice secondary to being with him.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes. It was like coming home.” Michaela stood, clearing the dishes and loading the dishwasher.

  Taylor stood with her, on autopilot as she handed plates and silverware over, thinking about the last few days with Lucky. The other night they’d gone to the farm for dinner and she’d watched Lucky with his dad. The two big men, wrestling over fixing a piece of equipment, mirror images of each other and both intense in their focus. But then Lucky had looked up, spotted her, and excused himself, skirting around farm detritus to beeline for Taylor, his smile growing wider as he got closer. It wasn’t his usual grin—this one was a sultry twist to his full lips, tilted upward with a private joke and softened with affection. A girl could get lost in a smile like that.

  It was like coming home.

  When she’d ridden out of town in Lucky’s car, putting Elliott in the rearview mirror was the key to her happiness, and she’d been content in Hawaii. It wasn’t a bad life; the only thing missing was someone to share it with, but she got through the rough patches with an occasional affair and good cable TV.

  But standing here in this place she had three people who were excited about the possibility that she might stay—as if her presence would somehow make their lives better. It was nice to be wanted.

  Something a girl could get used to.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Dad, can we talk about the farm?”

  Lucky sidled up next to his father, offering a beer to the man before sitting down next to him on the low stone wall outlining the perimeter of the lake house area of Promised Land farm. The house was a small barnlike structure sitting by the man-made lake, surrounded by wooden decking and a wood-fire barbecue pit. When they were growing up, Owen Landon let the boys drink and carry on as much as they wanted as long as they stayed on the property. They’d learned to play poker, handle their liquor, fuck, and fight at this very place. It was his second-favorite place in the world.

 

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