Make it Hot (9 page)

“You don’t have to. I—”

His slanted his right eye and he frowned. “Didn’t I tell you how I was raised, woman? I’ll walk you to your door.”

It didn’t make sense to argue with him. He was going to do it anyway.

She got out of the truck and waited for him to come around.

“You’re going to make it hard for me to show you what a gentleman I can be, aren’t you?” He took her hand in his, and they walked to her door.

She always forgot stuff like letting the guy open the door for her. As far as she was concerned, she could open her own doors, but a guy like Joel Hightower just might make her think about waiting until he came around and opened the door. He made chivalry seem a little less archaic and more…sexy.

And she had to admit she liked the way his gentleman skills worked with his wooing.

Standing in front of the door to her apartment, she was torn between inviting him in for a nightcap and running as fast as her legs could carry her away from temptation. When he stepped forward and placed those lips of his on hers, she felt the tingling again from the flesh of her mouth to the tops of her toes. His arms caressed her shoulders, and he used his hold to pull her body flush with his. His hands traveled down her back and teasingly gripped her bottom.

Between the door at her back and the hard muscled strength in front of her, she realized being caught never felt so good. Allowing her hands to explore his massive, masculine chest, she could feel the tingles explode from her fingertips with each touch.

He suckled on her lips as if he could get a life-sustaining liquid from them. She savored the pull of his mouth on hers. It felt like more than a kiss. It felt as if her soul was somehow escaping her body and his was entering hers, and it made her so aroused she knew she had to end the kiss and make a mad dash into her apartment while she was still thinking sanely.

Even though he seemed to be ready and willing to make it hot and take their relationship up a few hundred degrees, she needed a little more time. At least her mind needed more time even if her body seemed to be screaming,
Yes, take me now.

She pulled away, and he groaned.

“I better get inside now. I’ll meet you at Willy’s tomorrow at twelve-thirty. It’s over on Church Street in Paterson.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you there, and be ready to eat a little humble pie for dessert, because you and your little Chicago dogs are going down.”

Laughing, she opened the door. “Whatever. I just hope those deep-fried death dogs you had me eating tonight don’t give me indigestion.”

She heard his hearty laughter as she closed her door. She was already knee-deep in the heat, and she didn’t think she would get out of it if she could.

I
t was a bad-back day, a bad-back day and Joel was stuck in his town house with his mother, Celia Hightower, and his aunt Sophie each running around trying to outdo one another being “helpful.”

He was stuck with his mother and aunt instead of out having lunch with Little Miss Spitfire.
Grouchy
and
irritable
didn’t even begin to cover his funk.

As Celia and Aunt Sophie each reached for and struggled with his pillow to fluff it at the same time, he felt his slowly boiling blood bubble over. Celia let go of the pillow and Sophie tumbled back, barely catching herself from hitting the hardwood floor. A small barely noticeable smirk crossed Celia’s face and quickly disappeared, but not soon enough for Sophie to miss it. Sophie pursed her lips and arched her broad shoulders. She fluffed the pillow and placed it back on the bed.

Enough was enough.

No matter how much pain he was in today, seeing his mother duke it out with her sister-in-law and longtime rival wasn’t going to help him feel better. They seemed to be getting worse and worse as the years went by.

“You know, Mom, Aunt Sophie, I really appreciate that you both rushed on over here when you found out I was having some pain, but I think I’ll be okay on my own.”

“Nonsense. You need some help, and luckily your auntie is a retired nurse,” Sophie said as she glared at Celia.

Celia’s lips twitched.

“Sometimes nothing is better than a little TLC from your mother,” Celia assured.

“All the mothering in the world can’t beat a trained health-care professional,” Sophie offered with a twist of her lips.

“Spoken like someone who never had any children of her own.” Celia’s words faltered off into a soft little chuckle.

Sophie’s back arched, and her teeth clamped tightly as she smiled. “It’s a good thing I didn’t have a family of my own. My little brother needed me to help make sure his boys were raised
properly.
”

“Hmm…” Celia pursed her lips in mock contemplation. “Is that how they’re describing
meddling
these days?”

“All right, ladies. I can see this is about to get ugly. Clearly, you both can’t stay.”

And it would get even uglier if he finished what he wanted to say.

“I’m not leaving. You’re my son. You’re in pain.” His mother stopped and glared at Sophie. “I can normally let things slide. You know I rarely let folks get me riled up. But when it comes to my children and their wellness, I’m not letting anything or
anyone
get in the way.”

“If you care so much, as a
mother,
then you should want me to stay. I’m the trained professional. You have no health-care training.”

“I’m his mother.”

Joel shook his head. “I’m getting a little tired. Can y’all take this discussion into the living room? I need a nap.”

They weren’t going to leave. He couldn’t make them, and he didn’t have the energy to try. Plus, he would much rather spend his time thinking about how he was going to get Samantha to consider rescheduling their lunch date.

She sounded cool on the phone when he called to cancel, but as he remembered how hard it was to get her to agree in the first place, he couldn’t help but curse his aching back. Sure, it was the reason he even met his spunky temptress in the first place, but it was certainly getting in the way of his plans to woo her.

“Fine, son. I’ll be downstairs, tidying up,” Celia said after giving him a peck on the forehead.

“And I’ll see what you have in the fridge and make lunch and maybe some dinner—” Sophie started.

“No!” He realized how harsh and immediate his response to Aunt Sophie’s offer to cook was, too late to stop himself.

Aunt Sophie had to be the worst cook in the family. She was always trying to make dishes to outdo his mother, but Sophie couldn’t touch Celia in the kitchen.

“What I mean is, I don’t want you two doing any work. Mom, if you clean up, I’ll never find half my things. You know you have a habit of throwing things away. And, Aunt Sophie, I have enough food and leftovers to last me a lifetime. You guys have set me up fine in that regard. You don’t have to cook anymore. So if both you ladies are staying, just watch TV in the den or something.”

If he was forced to eat Sophie’s cooking, he would have to leap from his second-floor bedroom window, bad back or not.

A knowing smile crossed Celia’s face. “Fine. I won’t touch your things, but I’ll be here if you need me.”

The two women left the room, and he leaned back against the pillow in exasperation.

Getting through the day and not being in a bad mood had been a chore.

She should have been more than a little relieved she didn’t go on a second “date,” for lack of a better word, with Joel. She had dodged a bullet in a real way. She should be grateful the fates had intervened.

But all she had been able to think about was his slow, sexy smile; brown bedroom eyes; and how easy they were able to talk to and confide in one another. She couldn’t get rid of the fact she had been looking forward to talking with him again and finding out more about him.

Fine, smart, seductive brothers did not show up every day in a woman’s life. He epitomized everything she ever wanted in a man, except for the fact he was a patient. And he held a dangerous job.

So why in heaven’s name did she find herself ringing his doorbell when she got off from work?

She was a physical therapist, not a country family doctor who made house calls, but there she was….

She almost turned and walked away after ringing the bell.

“Yes?” a sweet soft voice that Samantha assumed was his mother’s greeted her from the door.

Turning back around, she smiled. There was no way the women would remember her from the hospital all those months ago, after Joel had his accident. The biggest concern would be coming up with a plausible reason why his physical therapist was making house calls.

“I’m Samantha, Joel’s physical therapist.”

“You’re his physical therapist? Little Miss Spitfire, the taskmaster?” She smiled.

“I can’t believe Mr. Surly’s running around telling folks his little nickname for me.” The words slipped out before she thought about the fact she was standing in front of his mom.

His mother gave her one of those looks that people got when they thought they had things all figured out, as if she was putting two and two together in her head and coming up with God knows what.

“Anyway,” she tried to cover, “maybe I should go, since he has you here to check up on him…I was just stopping by because he…ah…called earlier, and I just wanted to—”

“Oh, don’t leave. You can’t leave now. Now that I see who his physical therapist is, there’s no way I can let you leave, my darling girl. Even when he’s complaining about how difficult a session was and how you never cut him any slack, he does it with a smile.” Mrs. Hightower opened the door wider and waved her in.

Samantha walked in, and it felt as if she were walking the plank. Besides, a soulfully sexy man with back pain and his sweet mother, she had no idea what else awaited her inside the town house.

“This is actually perfect. I’m glad you stopped by. I was going to go looking for my son’s therapist anyway.” Mrs. Hightower winked at her. “I wanted to check you out and see what has Joel in a better mood these days.”

The older woman patted Samantha’s back as she led her into the house. “Well, he’s nowhere near his usual playful and funny self, but he’s much better than he was a few months ago. And now that I see you, I can see why.”

“What do you mean? I’m just his therapist.”

“Nonsense. His eyes light up when he talks about you.” Mrs. Hightower just kept walking and talking, and Samantha just followed against her better judgment.

All this talk had her heart doing flip-flops it had no business doing. It didn’t matter what his eyes did when he talked about her. It didn’t matter how her body heated up when she thought about him or how her emotions started short-circuiting when he smiled or made one of his innuendos and it certainly didn’t matter how her blood burned and her knees buckled from his kisses, because she had no business kissing him.

“Who is
she?
” Another larger woman with big shoulders and even bigger breasts blocked the stairway into the next room like a linebacker.

“This is Joel’s physical therapist. She’s here to check up on him, and I’m sure he’ll be glad to see her.” His mother grabbed Samantha’s hand and led her around the linebacker and up the stairs.

The linebacker followed them up the steps. “Since when do physical therapists make house calls this hour of the evening? Something doesn’t seem quite right about this, Celia, but I guess nobody can tell you anything. You’d just let any ole thing in the house talking about she’s a physical therapist.”

Samantha put her hand on her hip and stopped. She counted to ten and reminded herself that she was visiting Joel’s house for the first time and it wouldn’t be proper to let her South Side of Chicago girl come out.

Joel’s mother sucked her teeth and kept walking. “I know she’s a physical therapist, Sophie, because now I remember seeing her a lot in the hospital when Joel had the accident.”

“And she just conveniently ended up his therapist? Sounds like she could be some kind of stalker to me.”

“Oh, Sophie, hush. This woman is no more a stalker than you or I, and I think seeing her will cheer my grumpy son up.”

Samantha’s stomach started to flutter and she reached out to hold on to the railing as she followed Celia up the stairs.

Celia knocked on Joel’s door and turned to beam her bright, happy smile at Samantha.

Samantha managed a weak smile back. She could hear Sophie suck her teeth directly behind her. The woman seemed to be so close Samantha swore she felt a hiss of air sweep past her neck.

“Yeah?” Joel’s masculine voice called from behind the door.

“Son, you have company. Can we come in?”

The was a slight pause and then a hesitant, “Yeah.”

Celia turned and smiled again before opening the door.

Samantha didn’t follow her directly in and regretted it when Sophie stepped on the back of her heel.

“Move it along, girl,” Sophie snapped in an agitated tone.

No. She. Didn’t. She didn’t even apologize or say excuse me or anything! This old woman is really asking for a good ole Chi-town cuss out.

Samantha walked into the bedroom and caught Joel’s eyes.

His eyes widened and gleamed. His full, luscious lips took on a sweet, seductive smile. His entire aura seemed to glow.

“So you couldn’t stay away from me, huh?” he said with a sexy grin.

She blinked and swallowed. “When you said on the phone how much pain you were in, I thought I’d help.”

“Well, I’ve seen all I need to see. I’ll be downstairs, Joel. Be sure to invite this lovely young woman to the family cookout next Saturday. I like this one.” Celia’s voice seemed to sing.

“Mmmph.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Celia, sometimes I really don’t think you have the sense God gave a flea.”

“Let’s go, Sophie, and leave these young people alone. I’m sure she’s going to help him with his back and whip him right into shape.” Celia took a hold of Sophie’s arm and led her out of the room.

When the door closed, Samantha sat on the edge of the bed.

“Did you even try to do any of the stretching exercises when you felt the discomfort starting?”

“Come here.”

“What? Boy, I’m here. I’m trying to—”

“Come here. Come closer to me.”

She got up and went to the head of the bed where he sat up with a bunch of pillows behind his back.

He reached up and caressed her cheek.

“You know, if you use the pain-management techniques I showed you, you’ll find that you can—”

He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his.

His tongue felt so warm and strong. As he forged into her mouth, she couldn’t help but surrender to his caress. He licked, nipped and nibbled, making her mouth his feasting ground, but his tasting had nothing on her hunger. She found her teeth all too ready to devour as she took a hold of his lips and suckled.

He lifted her shirt and massaged her breasts. The gentle kneading motions of his hands caused her breath to hitch. When his fingers found her nipples, she was forced to wonder how in the world she ever survived without his touch. She leaned closer and closer to him as shock waves coursed through her body.

“I knew it! She’s no physical therapist. Must be some kind of call girl!” Sophie’s shrill, accusing voice stopped their tongue and body exploration cold.

They both turned to the door and found her standing there, pointing her finger and them with a horrified expression on her face.

Joel let out a sigh. “Aunt Sophie, thank you for coming by today to help out, but you can go home now. Tell Mom she can go home, too.”

“But—”

“Honestly, Aunt Sophie, you guys can leave now. I’m feeling better.”

“Mmmph. I bet you are.” Sophie’s shoulders reared up, and she turned to leave, slamming the door behind her.

“Come back here.” The words were spoken in a low, sexy, commanding voice that caused goose bumps to pop up all over her arms.

“Joel, this is not right. Your aunt has a point. As your physical therapist I have no business in your bedroom, on your bed, kissing you.” She sighed.

It was so hard to do the right thing after being kissed almost senseless. Good thing Sophie barged in. Who knows what might have happened if the old, evil woman hadn’t?

A series of bad-back-friendly sexual positions ran through her head.

Oh, God.
She should not be thinking about any of that.

He grinned and leaned back on the pillows, licking his lips as if he was still trying to taste her.

“Talk to me. Tell me about yourself. I wanna learn everything I can about you. Did you always want to be a physical therapist? Do you have any brothers and sisters? You’ve told me about your dad. What about your mom? Is she still in Chicago?”