Locked in Temptation

by Brenda Jackson

  “I never said it did, Joy.”

  She’d spoken matter-of-factly, self-composed, while trying to maintain her cool. There was something sexy about the way her lips curved in a frown and the way she’d tilted her head as if to make sure he fully understood what she’d said, because she had no intention of backing down. The thought that such a gorgeous-looking woman could hold her own made him feel good inside. She reminded him of Mellie, who didn’t take foolishness from any man.

  “I merely pointed out that I’m aware you know everything you’re asking me about,” he added.

  “But not your side of the story.”

  He shrugged. “Does my side matter?”

  “Yes, it matters to me.”

  He weighed what she’d said, deciding not to read too much into something about him mattering to her. Leaning back in his chair, he said, “Tonight I wanted to impress you, not depress you.”

  “You could never depress me. You’re too strong a man for that.”

  He shook his head. “Strong? There was a time I was weak. Acceptance meant everything. I lost my parents, and within the same year I lost my grandfather. My father and grandfather were the two most important and influential male figures in my life. I was angry. Madder than hell. My life was a mess. Nothing anyone said or did mattered. I rebelled and began hanging with the wrong crowd. I deliberately got into fights, played hooky from school and gave my teachers grief. I was the quintessential pain in the ass.”

  He paused, remembering that time. “Then one night, less than a month after graduating from high school, two of my friends talked me into driving them to a convenience store for cigarettes and beer. Said they would only be a minute. I didn’t know they’d robbed the place until the police pulled us over a short while later. The money they’d stolen was stuffed in their pockets. Stupid me, I’d been clueless that they’d used me as the driver of the getaway car.”

  He couldn’t believe he was telling her all of this. “Granny Kay used the money from my parents’ life insurance policy, money that was meant for my and Mellie’s college, to hire a lawyer. He was able to get me a lesser sentence since I hadn’t participated in the actual robbery. I got five years and they were given ten.”

  “You ended up doing eight years because you kept getting into trouble while in prison. Three more years were added on to your original sentence,” she said.

  “Yes, I kept getting into trouble. But all that changed when Sheppard Granger came on the scene.”

  “Why?”

  Like he was certain she’d known his story, he was just as certain she knew Sheppard Granger’s. “Shep was a convict who was wrongly accused of killing his wife. He didn’t fit. He didn’t belong. But even worse, he didn’t accept our bullshit. He refused to do so. I tried hating him but ended up admiring him. Especially when he began doing good things for the prisoners, starting educational programs for us and becoming our advocate. He made me realize getting more time added to my sentence was a total waste of my life and my value as a human being. I began believing him and began believing in myself. I got out, went to college, got a good job and have tried to give back to society. I feel good about that.”

  “And you should. I’d read the news articles about Sheppard Granger and the differences he made in the prison system. Because of him, a lot of changes have been instituted.”

  “Yes, they have. I owe him a lot.” Moments like this, sitting across from a remarkable woman like Joy when he could still be wasting his life getting into trouble, always made him appreciate the day Sheppard Granger came into his life.

  Stonewall checked his watch and then glanced at Joy. His pulse kicked up at the thought that their evening wasn’t about to end but was truly about to begin. “You’re ready to leave?”

  She held his gaze and nodded.

  He motioned to the waiter for their check. When the man arrived, he also gave them a box containing the rest of the cake. Stonewall slid it over to Joy. “This is yours. Compliments of me.”

  A smile curved her lips. “Thanks. Whenever I eat a slice, I’ll think of you.”

  He returned her smile. “I’m hoping you will.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT WAS CLOSE to midnight when Stonewall returned Joy to her home, and she couldn’t help but reflect on the evening. It was hard to stop smiling, thinking about how much time and attention he’d put into making sure their first official date was special. Everything, from the flight to Martha’s Vineyard to the dinner they’d shared at that restaurant, had been carefully thought out and strategically planned in a positive way. And having the restaurant prepare her that special dessert using his grandmother’s recipe had shown what a thoughtful person he was.

  On the flight back they’d talked about a number of things, while trying to downplay the sexual chemistry floating between them. In addition to being a great conversationalist, he knew a lot about world affairs. It had been interesting listening to his political views, which happened to coincide with hers.

  “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” she asked as he walked her to the door. The motion lights around her home came on—a security measure she’d installed when she bought the house.

  “Yes, it is.”

  She wasn’t sure what cologne he was wearing, but it smelled good on him. Manly and robust. Virile and sexy. More than once while sitting across from him on the return flight, she’d been tempted to unbuckle her seat belt, get up, go curl up in his lap and rub her nose against his neck to draw the smell of him into her nostrils.

  The one thing she’d tried not to think about was the kiss they’d shared earlier. The one he’d asked about continuing later. He hadn’t brought it back up, nor had she. However, there was no doubt in her mind he was thinking about it just as much as she was. Would he want to come inside? Would she ask him to?

  She was surprised at how comfortable she felt with Stonewall. She was a woman who put up a protective shield where men were concerned, especially after her disastrous affair with her ex, Omar Elwood. Omar had taught her an important lesson where men were concerned, one she would never forget. Stonewall thinking she was special, and his reason, touched a secret place within her, but she knew she must never lower her guard, at least not completely. Not even for the man walking beside her. Especially not for him.

  She was fully aware of just how attractive she was to him. Their personalities seemed to mesh, and tonight she had felt relaxed in his presence...at least during those times when she wasn’t having fantasies of tearing off his clothes, or being the one to feed him a slice of cake.

  She would definitely have done things differently, like licking the icing, the little bit that had clung to his lips, right off with the tip of her tongue.

  “Well, here you are,” he said, breaking into her thoughts when they’d reached her front door. He handed the box containing the leftover cake to her.

  Their hands touched and her breath caught on a surge of desire she should have seen coming, but didn’t. Drawing in a deep breath, she said, “Thanks, and thanks again for a wonderful evening.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” He suddenly stopped talking and frowned. “I hear conversation inside your home.”

  She chuckled. “Relax. It’s the television. I rarely turn it off.”

  “Why?”

  “A habit I acquired after college when I began living alone. Too much silence drives me mad.”

  “I see.”

  She wondered if he truly did. It drove her siblings crazy and whenever they visited, they muted her set. Unlike her, they preferred quiet.

  “Would you consider going out with me again, Joy?”

  She smiled up at him. “Yes. Hopefully it won’t take us another six months.”

  The sound of his ensuing chuckle sent desire pounding through her veins. She thought what she was experienc
ing was utterly ridiculous. Since when did the sound of a male chuckle do something to her? Like remind her that she hadn’t slept with a guy in almost two years?

  “We can hope,” he said. “Maybe I should try getting on your schedule now before I leave,” he said.

  Her smile faded. “Leave? You’re off again?”

  “Yes. I fly out tomorrow for New York, and from there to London.”

  “Oh.” She tried keeping the disappointment out of her voice. She didn’t have a reason to be disappointed, really. It wasn’t like they were a real couple or anything. They’d had their date, although it had taken nearly six months to happen. The important thing was that it had happened. And she was glad it had. “Sounds like an interesting trip. When will you be back?”

  “In a couple of weeks.”

  Had she imagined it or had he just eased a little closer to her? “You will be missed,” she heard herself say.

  “Will I?”

  “Yes. I still drop by that café on Monroe Street most mornings for coffee and at Shady Reds on Fridays for beer,” she said. “When you’re out of town I miss seeing you around.” It was more than that and she knew it. “Would you like to come inside for a drink?”

  He inched even closer. “What if I said a drink isn’t all I’d want once I’m inside, Joy?”

  Wow! Was this the same man who’d been so careful to maintain his role as a gentleman earlier tonight that he’d refrained from kissing her...until she’d egged him on? “And what else would you want?”

  “To finish that kiss, for starters.”

  “For starters?”

  “Yes, for starters,” he said in a deep, husky tone.

  She drew in a long, pulsing breath. At least she knew what to expect, but did Stonewall? If he assumed he would be the captain sailing this ship, then he was vastly mistaken.

  Now she was the one to inch forward, and she could tell by the look in his eyes he was a little surprised by the move. Surprised and pleased, just like when she had taken a bold approach earlier.

  “Be forewarned, Stonewall Courson. Once you cross over my threshold, you’re on my turf.”

  He held her gaze and she felt the heat. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I’ll be calling the shots. What do you have to say about that?”

  A smile curved his lips. “I say bring it on.”

  * * *

  STONEWALL HAD HOPED when he’d parked his car in Joy’s driveway that their time together wouldn’t end on her doorstep. Now as he glanced around the huge living room, he felt a sense of relief that it hadn’t. Yes, she might be calling the shots, but he was determined to get a few points in nonetheless.

  “Nice place.”

  “Thanks. I’m taking this cake to the kitchen. While I’m there, what can I get you to drink?”

  “A beer would be appreciated if you have one.”

  “I do. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a sec.”

  Stonewall watched her leave, appreciating the sway of her hips. He drew in a deep breath and felt his body heat from anticipation. Of what? He couldn’t be sure, when she was determined to call the shots.

  He glanced around the room again. On the drive to her place she’d told him she’d purchased the house a year ago. Upon moving to Charlottesville she had leased an apartment close by and would jog in this neighborhood of historical homes every morning. When this particular house had gone up for sale she had contacted the Realtor immediately and placed a down payment on it. According to Joy, there had been things about the area that she’d liked—the quiet community as well as the treelined streets and a majestic view of the mountains in the distance.

  The first thing he’d noticed was just how neat and tidy her home was. Not a single item out of place. Even the pillows on the leather sofa seemed in perfect alignment. What looked like a seventy-inch television hung above a white brick fireplace. She’d mentioned her home’s proximity to just about everything: shopping, fast-food places and grocery stores. All those things would be advantageous with her hectic schedule.

  “I hope I didn’t take too long,” she said, returning with two bottles of beer.

  He’d noticed at some point she’d removed her shoes, and seeing her out of them was just as sexy as seeing her in them. “No, but I did miss you while you were gone.”

  “Did you?” she asked, handing him one of the bottles.

  “Sure did. And thanks,” he said, taking the cold bottle from her and suddenly feeling hot from the brief touch of their fingers. “We’re going to have to do something about that sooner or later, you know.”

  He wondered if she would pretend not to know what he was talking about and was glad that she didn’t. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “Were you?” he asked, screwing off the cap to the beer bottle. He took a long, delicious gulp and licked his lips afterward. It was then he noticed she was standing there staring at him. He lifted a brow. “Is anything wrong, Joy?”

  * * *

  “NO, THERE’S NOTHING WRONG.” Joy knew there was no way a woman could tell a man that the mere sight of him drinking a beer, of his muscles in his throat flexing as he swallowed, was a total turn-on. And it didn’t help matters that she knew the shape and fullness of those lips he’d placed on the beer bottle, mainly because they had been on her mouth earlier. The memory of their kiss almost made her groan, and she quickly uncapped her beer and took a swig. She needed the taste of the cold liquid to cool off the rush of desire clawing at her.

  “Joy?”

  She lifted her eyes to his and wished she hadn’t. She saw concern. But more than anything, she saw something hot and steamy in the gaze staring back at her. “I’m fine.” She was practically drowning in the man. His mere presence was having a sinfully erotic effect on her.

  “I like the way you’ve got this place fixed up. Maybe you can give me a few decorating ideas.”

  “I got most of my ideas from the television.”

  He chuckled and set his beer on a nearby table. “The television you never turn off?”

  “Yes. One and the same.” She took another sip of beer. “I would give you a tour of the place but you wouldn’t be impressed. Nothing spectacular.”

  “I find that hard to believe when I think you’re spectacular. It stands to reason the place you live would be, too.”

  She chuckled as she tapped the mouth of her beer bottle to the center of her lips a few times. “Why, Mr. Courson, if you continue to lavish me with all these compliments, I’ll begin to think you have an ulterior motive for doing so.”

  A corner of Stonewall’s lips curved into a grin. “And what ulterior motive could I possibly have?” he asked, inching closer. He was standing so close that if she wanted to, she could take the tip of her tongue and swipe his lower lip. So close that she could actually feel the heat radiating off him and onto her.

  “Do I need to spell it out for you?” she asked him.

  He reached out, took the beer bottle from her hand and placed it on the table next to his. As usual, whenever their hands touched, a crackle of sexual energy passed between them. She felt it and, from the darkening of his eyes, knew he’d felt it, as well. “There’s no need to spell anything out to me, Joy.”

  Why did he have to say her name with that sexy huskiness? With the tip of his finger, he traced the curve of her lips. The touch was so light and sensuous she almost moaned. “But like I said earlier, sooner or later we’re going to have to do something about all this chemistry between us. Personally, I prefer sooner, since it seems when it comes to the two of us, we can’t count on later. Something always comes up.”

  That was true. Look how long it had taken for their first date, she thought.

  “Then there’s that kiss we never finished,” he added. He leaned his head closer to hers, and she f
elt his unspoken question like a warm whisper against her lips.

  Her mind suddenly conjured up images of how it had felt to wrap her arms around his muscled back while his mouth totally devoured hers. She couldn’t give him a yes or a no. At that moment, with his mouth so close to hers, all she could do was give him a “Hmm.” And when he leaned even closer and his tongue did a tantalizing sweep across her lips, a rush of sensations bombarded her.

  “I’m tempted to do that every time I look at your lips, you know,” he said before doing it again.

  No, she didn’t know. At the moment all she knew was that she was nearly overcome by a degree of want and need she hadn’t experienced in a long time, if ever.

  But before things went any further they needed to establish some grounds rules. She refused to make the same mistake with him that she’d made with Omar Elwood. “Stonewall?”

  He swept his tongue over her lips again, and she couldn’t hold back the moan. “Umm?”

  “We need to talk.”

  He reached out, cupped her face with his hands and whispered, “Later,” before leaning in and devouring her mouth.

  In his lifetime Stonewall had kissed plenty of women, but at that moment he knew none of those kisses had affected him as much as this one did. Joy was pushing him to the limits of his sanity and with every stroke of his tongue to hers, liquid heat was shooting straight toward his groin.

  This was their third kiss, and it seemed each and every time their mouths connected things got crazier and crazier. Their needs became all-consuming. Their desire for each other was so perfectly aligned that he could feel every single pore in his body open up to sensations he’d never felt before.

  Joy moaned and he released his hold on her face to plunge his hands into her hair, loving the feel of his fingers running through the strands. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss to get a more intimate contact with her mouth.