His Southern Temptation

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 * 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.”