Locked in Temptation

by Brenda Jackson

  She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her as he began slowly sliding inside her. She was amazed how her body automatically started stretching to accommodate his size. “Just a few more inches now, baby,” he whispered, and the sound of his voice sent vibrations through her.

  She felt tightness, not pain. And she felt something else. Sensations that began overtaking her where their bodies were joined. They were so intense she couldn’t stop the moans that slipped from her lips. She was driven to do something, like tighten her inner muscles around the massive invader. Clamp down on him. Hold him. She began dispensing her own method of torture by milking him and establishing a sensuous rhythm while doing so.

  “Blazes, Joy.”

  She knew from his tormented groan that what she was doing was getting to him, working him the way she wanted it to. He broke eye contact with her and threw his head back, releasing a deep, guttural growl before thrusting harder, going deeper while gripping her hips.

  The sharp intake of his breath propelled her on, and she wasn’t sure how long she would be able to keep it up with the way he was thrusting in and out of her with such keen precision. She could feel every incredible inch of him, and there was a lot to feel. It was mind-boggling to think all that was inside her, pounding hard and giving her pleasure, not causing her pain.

  “Joy!”

  He called out her name the same time his body jerked hard. His thrusts became more rapid and harder, pushing her over the edge, making her scream his name while violent shudders racked her body.

  “Stonewall!”

  When the tremors and spasms finally passed, he sucked in a deep breath and slowly slid his body off her. Leaning down, he kissed the side of her neck and throat while panting for breath. “I’ll be right back, baby,” he whispered moments later while shifting his body to sit up at the end of the sofa. “I need to take care of the condom.”

  “There’s a half bath over there,” she said, not having the strength to point in which direction.

  “I’ll find it.”

  He stood, and she opened one eye to watch his naked body cross her living room. Just seeing it sent a tingling sensation through her. She closed her eyes and hadn’t known he’d returned until she was lifted off the sofa into strong arms.

  “Now for your bed,” he said.

  * * *

  STONEWALL’S EYELIDS FELT HEAVY, but he forced them open anyway. He slowly glanced around the room and saw nothing familiar. Definitely not the deep shade of blue that Mellie had painted his bedroom last year. This room was a soft shade of yellow. It was then that he remembered where he was and with whom.

  He shifted his body and found his legs entwined with Joy’s. Her scent was all over the room. All over him. He had no problem with that. They’d made love again in here. Several times. He was glad he’d had enough condoms in his wallet.

  Sex with her had been off the charts. Definitely mind-blowing. He would even go so far as to say it was the best he’d ever had. Although he didn’t have the womanizing reputation Quasar possessed before he’d hooked up with Randi, Stonewall had held his own with the ladies and had had a pretty good stream of them in and out of his bed. But none had stimulated him the way Joy had last night. She had delivered satisfaction on a silver platter with all kinds of trimmings to go along with it. And the way she’d used her body to try to pull everything out of him still had his erection throbbing.

  He regretted that he would be leaving Charlottesville later today. As far as he was concerned, he could stay with Joy spooned beside him in bed forever. He frowned at the thought, thinking maybe that was getting a little carried away. Great sex was great sex, but there was no need to think about something as far-reaching as forever. He’d found out years ago that nothing was forever. At least, for him it wasn’t. He learned to take life one day at a time.

  He drifted back to sleep and wasn’t sure for how long. All he knew was that when he woke again, it was to the scents of bacon and coffee. A great combination, in his book. Had he died and gone to heaven? He noticed the pictures on the wall, no doubt of various family members. Probably her siblings and parents since each individual favored her.

  Stonewall studied the framed photograph of the man he figured to be her father. He was standing on a fishing dock next to a boat and holding up what had evidently been a good catch for that day. The older man was tall, robust-looking and muscular. He looked like a person who wielded authority even when he was in a relaxed mode. There was just something about a cop. You could recognize one even without the uniform.

  With the exception of Joy...

  The two times he’d seen her all dolled up, he would not have figured her for a cop. There was definitely nothing rough and tough-looking about her in a pair of stilettos. She was pure woman. Hell, she was pure woman even without the stilettos. But with the heels she was sex on the most gorgeous pair of legs he’d ever seen.

  And he didn’t want to think about her without any clothes. That would only make his body hard, which would tempt him to go drag her out of her kitchen and back to bed. He chuckled. Drag her out of the kitchen? He was smart enough not try it or else he might find a Glock to the side of his head. He had a feeling not anyone—man or woman—would be stupid enough to make any attempt to drag Joy Ingram anywhere. You couldn’t let her size fool you.

  He shifted on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Yellow ceilings? Who did that? Weren’t all ceilings supposed to be white? Who painted their ceilings to match their walls?

  “Good morning. I see you’re awake.”

  He jerked his head around and found the giver of so much pleasure from last night standing in the doorway. Immediately that verse about enduring something for a night but finding joy in the morning popped into his mind. Well, he’d lucked out and found it. Joy in the morning. She was definitely his joy. He was experiencing such contentment after spending a night in her bed and waking up beside her.

  She wore a short, cutesy floral print sundress that looked sexy on her. His gaze roamed all over her, appreciating everything he saw and a few things he didn’t see but knew were there beneath the dress.

  “Good morning to you, and yes, I’m awake. I didn’t hear you leave the bed,” he said, trying not to stare at her legs.

  “You were sleeping soundly, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

  He frowned. He never slept soundly. It was part of his profession never to sleep soundly. Even off duty while in his own bed, he never slept so deeply that he wouldn’t awaken at the faintest sound. He must have been more exhausted than he’d thought. But when had sex with a woman ever tired him out?

  “I’m cooking breakfast if you’d like to join me. I figure you worked up an appetite last night. We both did.”

  He lifted up in bed, thinking he would definitely agree with that. “And how do you feel this morning?” He was asking for a reason and they both knew why.

  She shrugged. “I’m still somewhat sore even after soaking in the Jacuzzi tub for nearly an hour.”

  Soaking in a tub? For nearly an hour? He’d slept through her doing that, as well? He rubbed a hand down his face. Damn.

  “Are you okay, Stonewall?”

  Was he? Hell, he wasn’t sure. One night in her bed and he was off his A-game. Sleeping like a damn baby. “Yes, but I feel like an inconsiderate bastard.”

  “Why?”

  “I should have run your bathwater for you. That’s the least I could have done.”

  “Why? It’s not like I crawled to the tub, Stonewall. I was sore, not disabled.”

  Still, something about her doing that without his help bothered him. Just like knowing he’d slept through her getting out of bed. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra toothbrush around here, would you?” he asked, swinging his legs off the bed to get up. He glanced around for his clothes and then remembered where he
’d left them.

  “Yes, I have an extra toothbrush. I placed it along with a washcloth and towel on the vanity. I also hung your shirt and pants up on the back of the bathroom door. I figured the steam from my bathwater would get rid of any wrinkles.”

  And he’d slept through it all. “Sounds like you’ve been busy.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He appreciated a person who was on top of things, but Joy was too much. It sounded like she needed to learn how to slow down and relax some.

  She chuckled. “Yes, that’s me. Busy beaver Joy. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. I’ll be in the kitchen finishing up.” And then she turned and left.

  He rubbed a hand over his face. Hell, regardless of how off-kilter he felt, he still liked seeing Joy in the morning.

  * * *

  JOY KNEW THE moment Stonewall entered her kitchen, but when she turned around, the air was suddenly sucked from her lungs. In the bright morning sunlight that flowed through the kitchen window, he looked as yummy as the eggs, bacon and pancakes she’d been busy cooking. He’d put on his slacks and shirt, and on him they looked freshly pressed. It was as if the creases in his slacks had automatically fallen in place. She always thought she had a pretty nice-sized kitchen, but once he walked in, it seemed rather tiny.

  “I didn’t properly greet you yet,” he said, crossing the room to her and pulling her into his arms. “Good morning, Joy.”

  He kissed her, reacquainting her tongue with his. Not that it needed to be done. She was certain there was no part of her body that could forget him. He had such a lasting effect. He’d showered, and the manly scent of him delighted her. He deepened the kiss and she knew if she didn’t pull back now, they would be making out on her kitchen table.

  She broke off the kiss, but he still kept her wrapped in his warm embrace while nibbling on her neck. She in turn took advantage and rubbed her nose against the side of his face, loving the feel of the manly texture of his beard. “I wish I could make love to you again before I leave,” he murmured softly.

  A part of her wished the same thing. “Any reason you can’t?” she asked.

  “Yes. You’re still sore and you’ve taken enough of me in one day.”

  That was definitely being straightforward, she thought. “Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?”

  “Not this time. I know your body’s limitations.”

  He really thought so? “And how is that possible?”

  A smile touched his lips. “I was inside you last night. Remember?”

  How could she forget? It felt strange standing in the middle of her kitchen, holding a conversation about whether or not she could handle him again today.

  He leaned closer. “But you can get as much of this as you want,” he said, kissing her more deeply this time. She felt her knees weaken and wrapped her arms around his neck at the same time he wrapped his around her waist.

  He finally released her mouth but kept his arms around her. “I could get used to this,” he murmured softly against her moist lips.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “I THINK OUR first date was simply spectacular, don’t you?” Stonewall asked as his lips moved from her neck to nibble her ear.

  “Umm, most definitely.”

  “I could get used to that, as well.”

  She chuckled and he could feel the vibrations. She pulled away, out of his arms, and gazed up at him. “Considering how long it took to squeeze in our first date due to our hectic schedules, getting used to anything when it comes to us will be next to impossible.”

  “Yes, but wasn’t the wait worth it?”

  A huge smile touched her lips. “Yes, it was worth the wait. Thanks again for everything. You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

  “You deserve it, and if you recall, I told you at dinner that you were special.” He had a feeling that she didn’t take compliments well. As far as he was concerned, the best solution to that was to keep on giving them.

  “Need any help?” he asked.

  “Umm, you can set the table for me. It’s such a beautiful day, I thought it would be nice to eat out on the patio. It’s screened in, and on nice days it’s one of my favorite places to eat and spend time reading or lounging around.”

  “No problem.”

  “The dishes are in that cabinet. The eating utensils are there. And the mugs for the coffee are there,” she said, pointing the location of everything out to him.

  “Thanks.”

  He opened the cabinets and took out two of everything. But he couldn’t stop his gaze from roaming all over her, thinking she definitely looked good in that dress. And she smelled good, too.

  “Just so you know, I can cook,” he said as he opened the drawer to get out the eating utensils.

  She glanced back over at him. “Can you?”

  “Yes. I’m no Chef Emeril, but I can hold my own.”

  “What’s your favorite meal you like to prepare?”

  “Lasagna.”

  “I don’t know too many men, including my brothers, who like being in the kitchen near a stove. Who taught you?”

  “Mostly my grandmother, but my mom taught me the basics.” He moved across the room. “Can you get that door for me?”

  “Sure.”

  She moved ahead to open the door that led to the screened-in patio. Honestly, even with his hands full he could have opened it himself, but he enjoyed seeing her legs in motion. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Everything should be ready in a few.”

  “Okay.” He watched her leave and thought that was another thing he could get used to. Seeing her gorgeous legs in a dress instead of the slacks she usually wore.

  * * *

  JOY RETURNED TO the kitchen, thinking that she wasn’t used to having anyone, especially a man, in her home this early in the morning. This was definitely a first. It was also a first for her to sleep with a guy on their first date, but she’d done so with Stonewall by convincing herself it was long overdue. Had they gone out six months ago as planned, they probably would have shared a bed by now. And it wasn’t as if they’d just met and hadn’t kept in contact.

  She noticed him opening the door to come back inside. “So, how do you think I did?” he asked, walking into the kitchen.

  Although she knew he was asking her opinion about the table he’d set, she was thinking about his performance last night. “You did a great job. Now you can help carry everything out.”

  He looked at the filled platters. “It looks and smells good, but do you expect us to eat all that?”

  She chuckled. “Yes.”

  They sat down to eat and piled the food on their plates. “At least let me pour the coffee,” Stonewall offered when she reached out to do so.

  “Okay.”

  Moments later she watched him dig in, take his first mouthful, close his eyes and moan. “These are great-tasting pancakes, Joy.”

  “Thanks. While in high school I worked at a café where I learned how to flip eggs and make all kinds of breakfast meals. Pancakes were my specialty. I seldom prepare a meal like this for myself—usually I operate on doughnuts and coffee.”

  “What do you eat for lunch?” he asked her.

  “I rarely eat lunch. Most days I work through it.”

  “What about dinner?”

  She took a sip of her coffee and then answered. “Usually I grab a salad from someplace on the way home, but that could be anytime of night. I have no set time to leave work.” No need telling him that she’d pulled an all-nighter more than a few times.

  He nodded. “How are things going for you at work?” Stonewall asked while spooning more eggs onto his plate. She was glad he seemed to enjoy the breakfast she’d prepared.

  “Hectic as usual. Got at least fifteen homicides I’m working.”


  “That’s a lot.”

  “Tell me about it. Most of them didn’t get the attention they deserved when everyone was focused on the Erickson case. One in particular involves a woman who froze to death one night under suspicious circumstances. I guess you can say Murphy Erickson messed things up in Charlottesville in more ways than one.”

  Murphy Erickson was infamous. The mobster had promised to kill everyone who’d been in the courtroom the day his sentence had been read, including Margo. Ten people had been killed before the assassin Murphy had hired was taken down by Striker while on the job, protecting her.

  “Still no new leads on that? The authorities still don’t know who killed Erickson?”

  “Not that I heard. It’s a federal investigation now and the Feds aren’t telling us anything.”

  Her eyes lingered on him. He was finishing off the last of his pancakes. He’d eaten every single one. Knowing it was rude to stare, she picked up her cup and took a sip of her coffee, diverting her attention to the mountains that could be seen over the rooftops of the homes behind hers. On some days she wished she could see more of them but was grateful for the view she had.

  “Breakfast was delicious, Joy,” Stonewall said, reclaiming her attention.

  “Thanks. Glad you enjoyed it,” she said, standing to start clearing the table. No need telling him that she’d enjoyed preparing it for him, as well.

  “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked, standing to help her.

  “I don’t have any. It will be one of those rare do-nothing days for me. What time will you be leaving town today?”

  “Around five. I’ll check on Granny Kay and Mellie before taking off.”

  “You don’t have to help me with the dishes if you’re pushed for time.”

  “Who said I’m pushed for time? Besides, it’s the least I can do after you cooked such a delicious breakfast. Next time, I’ll fix breakfast.”