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Sweet Southern Betrayal

Page 19

by Robin Covington


  She lifted her arms to push him away, but the hard, warm planes of his chest under her skin stopped her. She whimpered, half-mad with anger because she needed him so damn much.

  “Risa, I’m sorry.” Teague leaned closer, his lips brushing her cheek in a kiss that matched the apology—sweet and pleading. “I fucked up. I was wrong about everything. The firm. Your past. I had it all wrong.”

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders, spasming with her struggle to drag him closer and keep him away at the same time. She’d always thought that hell was not getting what you wanted, but it was really getting your deepest desire and being too afraid to take it. And she was terrified of this. Frightened to think she might be this close to happiness.

  He continued when she said nothing. “Everything I said to Big Tony was true. I quit Harrison & Duff and I’m moving back to Elliott to run my father’s practice. I can have this plane take you wherever you want to go, but there is only one place I want you to go. Please come home with me.”

  Teague pulled back, his fingers rough where they framed her face, tracing paths of sweet fire along her skin. His eyes were dark now, a stormy green as he dropped his guard and let her see the longing in their depths.

  “I need you, Risa.” His tone was tinged with anguish now, pulled from deep inside him, and she gasped at the pain. “I don’t want to be that man, the one you despise. I want to be the man you see. The one you love.” He leaned his forehead against her own, breathing deeply, water hanging like crystal on his eyelashes. “But I don’t know how to do it without you.”

  She didn’t know if she was walking straight into the fire or not, but her heart didn’t care. To embrace the burning, consuming need pulling and clawing at her soul was her only option. She’d spent years watching people take this gift for granted and vowing that if she ever got the chance she would grab it with both hands. Anything else was going to be a half life, and she was tired of wondering if she could ever earn the right to be loved, to be happy, to be wanted.

  “I see you, Teague.” Her hands clutched at his shoulders, his neck, trying to get closer, to memorize everything about him. “I love you.”

  His answer was the crushing of his mouth against hers, his tongue entering with a brute force born of need and fear. They were both on edge, emotional, passion edged with punishing ferocity as they dragged their bodies together until there was no room for either of them to take a deep breath.

  …

  Teague broke off the kiss, burying his fingers in her hair making sure she saw him, ensuring she heard him. “I love you so much.”

  “Show me.”

  He could do that. It sounded a lot like a plan.

  Teague lifted her up, urging her to straddle his legs in the seat. “As soon as we get to a bed I’ll show you properly but for now, give me your mouth.”

  Risa leaned over him, her silky hair falling down around them in a tumble that gave them a little privacy from the guys sitting just a few rows up. Teague really couldn’t give a shit if their delicate sensibilities were offended by their public display of affection. It would serve them right for not keeping their eyes front.

  Besides, they’d need to get used to it because he planned on making it a habit.

  He kissed her. Enjoying the simple act of tasting her, exploring her warmth, and swallowing her sighs. The sensation of loving someone with his whole being, body and soul. It was a crazy free fall, the one thing in his life he couldn’t plan or orchestrate, but he wouldn’t change it.

  When they had to come up for air, he pulled back, still cupping her gorgeous face in his hands. He didn’t know how he ever thought he could live without this woman. Teague stared at her, smiling when she blushed, the pink coloring her cheeks and the tips of her ears.

  “Marry me,” he asked, stifling his laugh when her eyebrows shot up like fireworks.

  Risa shook her head. “No.”

  “I thought you’d say that.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “It’s what I want.” He shrugged. “You know me, I ask for what I want.”

  “I think I’d like to try not being married to you for a while.” She ran a fingertip over his lips, replacing it with her mouth for a soft, quick kiss. “Is that okay?”

  Teague soaked her in, the woman he’d take however he could get her. Married. Not married. In the end it didn’t matter as long as they were together.

  “For now.”

  Epilogue

  Risa hovered in the space between sleep and wakefulness, fighting the pull of the day to remove her from the warm cocoon of her bed. She snuggled deeper under the covers, listening for the sounds of Teague down in the kitchen of Elliott House, her home for the last three months.

  Risa settled back into the little pocket of covers she piled around her in defense of the occasional draft that passed through this old house. She didn’t mind the quirks, though. This was the first real home she’d ever had and she was loving every minute of making it reflect the life she was building with Teague.

  It had surprised them both when Marian had told them she wanted to move into a smaller home in Elliott and asked them to move in. Pepper had followed once she was out of rehab and was ensconced in the apartment over Teague’s office, and it felt as if they’d always been part of the rhythm of this old town. The renovations were almost complete on the storefront next to the Southern Comfort Diner and in a few short weeks she would open the first location for Behind Closed Doors.

  It really was like living a dream.

  Familiar footsteps on the staircase made her skin tingle with anticipation. Coffee wasn’t the only thing Teague provided with his morning wake-up call. He could still turn her on with a look, and they spent more time in bed than out these days.

  Expecting to feel the familiar dip of the bed under his weight, she peered out from the covers when he didn’t join her. Teague leaned against the large, mahogany post at the foot of the bed, his bare chest and lean muscles drawing her attention immediately. He wore her favorite pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his slim hips and had a book in his left hand.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “One of the four hundred copies of Jane Eyre you have stashed around the house.”

  Teague crawled up onto the bed, his muscles moving under his skin with the grace of a well-trained athlete. He snuggled up beside her, his arm heavy as he stretched it over her body and drew her in close.

  “Hey.” Risa wriggled away from his kiss, giving up when he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and entwined their legs together in the sweet, intimate way that always made her sigh. “Don’t mock Jane and Mr. Rochester.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.”

  Teague tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, tracing the line of her jaw with a finger until he could tuck it under there and lift her head. He was cocky, as usual, and confident he was the one person who knew how to make her happy.

  Risa leaned over to kiss him and he met her halfway. His mouth was warm, moist, and initially gentle. Their lips slid together, tongues delving in to taste, and his fingers wove through her hair, anchoring her in place to allow him to take it to the place that left her breathless and aching. To her surprise, he ended it, pulling back with soft kisses pressed against her mouth, cheek, eyelids. When he stopped completely she opened her eyes, drawn in by the mischievous grin tilting up one corner of his sensual upper lip.

  “So what were you doing with my book?”

  “Reading it.” He paused and corrected himself. “Memorizing it, actually. Well, parts of it.”

  “What? Why?”

  “So I could do this.”

  He lifted his hand into her line of vision so she was in the best position to get a good look at the ridiculously huge, but beautiful, diamond ring circling his pinky finger.

  “I know you said no wedding, but I’m an old-fashioned man at my core.” He paused, swallowing hard and betraying the nerves he hid so well. He closed his eyes for the briefest mome

nt, steeling himself for whatever he was about to say and that gesture—so vulnerable and tender—made her so grateful that this man was hers. She touched his face and his eyes opened, intense, and blazing with the fire of the autumn leaves on the mountain. “As I said, I read your favorite book, Jane Eyre, and I worry I can’t do this as well as your Mr. Rochester, but like he loved Jane, I love you.”

  He pulled the ring off his pinkie and grasped her left hand, positioning it at the tip of the correct finger. His gaze never left her own as he slid the jewelry along her skin, the cool of the metal warming to her own body heat until it felt as though it had always belonged there. A part as essential as her heart.

  “I promise you will never feel poor or obscure again. I will guard and cherish you for the rest of my life.”

  Risa sucked in a ragged breath as she recognized the words memorized from her favorite passage in the book. Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks as he gave her this gift.

  With a groan, Teague kissed her fiercely and with desperate passion. She leaned into it, into his arms, their breaths mingling as he continued in a whisper against her mouth.

  “And just like he says in the book, I believe I have a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your body. We are so connected that if we were ever to part again, I know I would begin to bleed inside. You are my soul and my heart, and I need you, Risa. Please marry me.”

  She swallowed down a sob, wiping the worst of the wetness from her face as she willed her tongue to form words. In the end, she could barely push out the most important one through the tears.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” Teague whispered as he smiled and kissed her again, his own voice broken by his emotion.

  “Yes.”

  He kissed her again, over and over, sealing their promise with their passion. Risa shoved Teague back until he lounged against the headboard, his body one big line of muscle that invited her to come and explore. Never one to pass up the invitation, she crawled up his frame, straddling his waist as his hands lifted the hem of his shirt that she’d worn to bed. She arched into the slide of his palms over the span of her back, relishing the tingle on her skin.

  “You know my mom is going to take over this wedding.” Teague’s voice was a rumble against her throat where he pressed sweet kisses. “Flower girls, bridal showers, the white dress and big reception.”

  “A real wedding.” She sighed from the combination of his touch and her dream coming true.

  “I want us to have the right start. Our friends and family around us.”

  She hesitated, still afraid to want too much. But if Teague was starting to make her believe anything, it was that she deserved to get what she really wanted.

  “Yes. I want it all. You and me. A couple hundred of our closest friends.” She ran her hands over his chest, the soft swirls of hair tickling her palm. “I want to marry you here. At Elliott House.”

  Teague paused, leaning back to look up at her. He brought his hands to her face, cupping it with a tender touch. “We don’t have to.”

  “I want to,” she answered. “We can start our life together here—”

  “Raise our kids here.”

  “Love each other here.

  “Grow old together,” he said.

  “It sounds like a plan.”

  “And you know much I love a good plan.”

  Yes, she did.

  About the Author

  Robin Covington, who New York Times best-selling authors Robyn Carr and Carly Phillips said was their new “auto-buy author,” writes sizzling hot contemporary and paranormal romance.

  A Night of Southern Comfort, her best-selling debut novel, was a 2012 finalist in the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Awards, earned 4.5 stars, and was touted by RT Book Reviews as bringing a “fresh, modern feel to the genre while still sticking to the things that get our adrenaline pumping—sex and danger.” When she’s not exploring the theme of fooling around and falling in love, she’s collecting tasty man candy, indulging in a little comic book geek love, and stalking Joe Manganiello.

  You can find Robin on her website, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter (@RobinCovington).

  Robin lives in Maryland with her hilarious husband, brilliant children, a ginormous German shepherd, and the world’s cutest puppy.

  She loves to hear from her readers! Drop her a line at robin@robincovingtonromance.com.

  Acknowledgments

  Once again, I find myself in this spot…in awe of getting to live this dream and thinking of all the people who helped me to get here.

  My editor Alethea Spiridon Hopson—thank you for pushing me to do my best. I���m so glad to have you on this journey with me.

  Avery Flynn and Kimberly Kincaid—you gals mean the world to me. Love you to pieces…and I would totally pick you up out of the gutter…after I take a photo and post it on Twitter. ; )

  Emmie Dark—you are still my rock, my sounding board. Love you.

  My Sizzlemongers—the craziest and most fun group of women. You guys inspire me everyday. Let’s keep the shemanigans going…

  To my author friends who have helped me along this path and inspired me with your amazing talent. You probably have no idea how you have impacted my life. Thank you: Carly Phillips, Robyn Carr, Bella Andre, Sara Humphreys, Damon Suede, Elisabeth Staab, Kelsey Browning, Laura Kaye, Stephanie Dray, Christi Barth, Jennifer Probst, Joya Fields, Rebecca Zanetti, Hank Edwards, Jennifer Fusco, Gina L. Maxwell, Maisey Yates, Susan Meier, Jo Davis, and Donna Alward.

  Jillian Stein and Joy Harris—you gals rock.

  Liz Pelletier and Entangled Publishing—thank you for giving me a chance and supporting my career. You are the best!

  Little Man and Lulu—I cherish nothing more than the gift of being your mommy.

  Main Man—I love you and I still wouldn’t want to take this crazy ride with anyone but you.

  My readers—thank you! Hugs and big smooches.

  Indulge in these other bestselling contemporary romances by Robin Covington …

  A Night of Southern Comfort

  Detective Jackson Cantrell never imagined that one night with an irresistible stranger would turn his life upside down. He’s spent years living in the shadows, but Dr. Michaela Roarke awakened a passion inside him he’d buried years ago.

  He never expected the woman would turn out to be the governor’s daughter…and his next assignment. The governor blackmails Jackson to secretly watch over Michaela and protect her from a stalker, or kiss his dream job at the FBI good-bye. Swearing to keep things strictly professional, Jackson moves in with Michaela. Too bad his heart can’t keep the same promise. But when the stalker’s attacks quickly escalate beyond mere photographs to bodily harm, Jackson must race to save Michaela’s life. And he’ll have to figure out how to keep her once she discovers his lie.

  His Southern Temptation

  As a Black Ops assassin, “Lucky” Landon has had more than his fair share of close calls. Now he’s turned in his sniper rifle for the simple life of his small hometown. So the last thing he ever expected was to end up at gunpoint. Or that the woman holding the gun would be his best friend’s little sister and Lucky’s on-again/off-again lover. Taylor Elliott is Trouble, and she likes it that way. And seeing Lucky again? Well, he’s been her dirty little secret for the past few years and everyone knows that secrets in a small town are almost impossible to keep. But Taylor has bigger problems on her plate. Like the local mob boss who wants her dead. And right now the only thing standing between Trouble and disaster is a hottie named Lucky...

 

 

 
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