Recipe for Temptation (15 page)

Reese gasped and whirled around, heart lodged in her throat.

At the sight of Michael sitting alone in a shadowy corner of the veranda, her knees went weak and she sagged against the railing. “You scared me half to death! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Not quite.” His voice was a deep, smoky rumble in the dark night. Heat curled through her veins, fueling the restless ache between her thighs.

She swallowed, straightening from the balustrade. “W-what’re you doing sitting out here in the dark? Howling at the moon?” she joked lamely.

She thought she detected the ghost of a smile on his face. As she stared at him, he tipped back his head and howled ever so softly. She shivered with arousal, her nipples hardening and her clitoris swelling.

Silently cursing her body’s reaction to him, she cleared her throat and shifted from one foot to another. “I, uh, hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“You are,” came his lazy drawl, “but what else is new?”

Unnerved, Reese made a move toward the house. “In that case, I’ll just—”

“Stay,” Michael said, a low, husky command.

She obeyed without question.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” he asked her.

“Who says I couldn’t sleep?” she retorted defiantly.

“You’re out here, aren’t you?”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe I just wanted some fresh air.”

“So you roused yourself from a deep sleep just to come outside—where it’s ninety-five degrees—and get some fresh air.” His voice was heavy with amused skepticism.

Reese said nothing. She was glad he couldn’t see the deep flush suffusing her cheeks.

“Wanna know what I think?” he asked softly.

She swallowed. “Not particularly.”

“I think you’re out here for the same reason I am.”

Her pulse hammered at the base of her throat as he stood and came toward her, a slow, deliberate advance. She felt a frisson of fear mingled with excitement.

Resisting the urge to bolt, she held her ground as he stopped just inches from her.

She could feel the heat radiating from his big body, could smell a lingering trace of his cologne underlaid by warm male skin. Her mouth watered, and it was all she could do not to pounce on him and tear off his clothes.

His gaze raked over her, taking in her silk nightshirt and bare feet in one hot, encompassing sweep. His eyes glittered like a wolf’s in the moonlight.

“I think you couldn’t sleep because you were thinking about me,” he said in that sinfully intoxicating voice. “I know, because I was thinking about
you,
imagining you warm and naked between the sheets, your body calling out for mine. I got so damn hard that I couldn’t take it anymore. If I hadn’t gotten out of the house when I did, you would’ve found me in your bed.”

Oh God,
Reese thought as a rush of liquid heat bloomed between her thighs. She started to sway toward him before she caught herself and stepped backward, holding up a hand as if to ward him off. “Michael—”

“Tell me you weren’t thinking about me,” he taunted, daring her.

“I wasn’t thinking about you.”

“Liar.”

They faced each other in the moonlit darkness, the air between them vibrating with a potent combination of tension, frustration, anger and lust.

Needing to put some distance between them, Reese sidestepped Michael and strode to the other end of the veranda, relieved when he let her go. Impulsively she grabbed the beer bottle he’d been nursing, shook it, then raised it to her mouth and downed the rest of the contents.

When she’d finished, she slammed the bottle down on the table with a metallic thud.

“Feel better?” Michael murmured, faintly amused.

“No,” she snapped, keeping her back to him. “Truth be told, I probably won’t ‘feel better’ until I’m back home in Texas.”
Safely far away from you!

“Are you homesick, Reese?” His voice was deceptively mild.

She hesitated. He’d misinterpreted her words, but instead of telling him that, she said, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I
am
feeling a little homesick.” As soon as the ridiculous lie left her mouth, she instinctively knew he’d make her pay for it.

She heard a whisper of movement behind her.

And then suddenly he was right there, reaching her with a predatory stealth that made her wonder if he really was a wolf in disguise.

She let out a startled cry as he seized her, hauling her against him, bringing her backside into electrifying contact with his thick, rigid arousal. Desire exploded in her veins.

Her heart thundered furiously.

He surrounded her, scorching her with his heat and virile intensity. “Reese,” he whispered, hoarse with need and longing as he tenderly stroked her hair and brushed his lips across her temple. “Beautiful,
beautiful,
Reese. What are you doing to me?”

Disarmed by his unexpected gentleness and the aching vulnerability in his voice, she let her body relax against his. She trembled as his mouth wandered to the edge of her jaw, seeking the corner of her lips. Closing her eyes, she turned her face into his and opened to the exquisite taste of him, powerless to resist. He kissed her as if their bodies were already joined, deep, hungry kisses she felt down in her wet, throbbing loins. The pleasure was so intense it was almost unbearable.

Suddenly his hands were everywhere on her body, stoking the flames inside her.

When he cupped her bottom, she moaned and gyrated her hips, grinding against the hot, bulging pressure of his erection. He groaned, low and guttural.

“I want you. Want you so bad it’s all I’ve tasted for days,” he whispered raggedly against the curve of her neck. His teeth sank into her tender flesh, sending waves of erotic sensation crashing through her.

She shuddered uncontrollably, her head falling back against his hard chest. Now
she
wanted to howl at the moon.

He bit her gently, rasping his tongue against her hammering pulse while he reached for the hem of her nightshirt and slowly dragged it up her bare thighs. Reese shivered at the cool kiss of silk against her fevered skin. His big, callused hands slid over her belly and past her heaving rib cage before cupping her swollen breasts. She cried out, raw pleasure rippling through her.

“Mmm,” he rumbled huskily. “I’ve dreamed about these every night since we met.”

Reese groaned, writhing against him as his fingers teased and stroked her erect nipples, deepening the sweet, pulsing ache in her womb. Her clitoris was engorged, and her panties were completely soaked. She wanted him to drag her down to the floor and take her, any and every way he pleased.

“Please…” she begged, trying desperately to remember why what they were doing was so wrong. “We can’t… We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” His voice was rough with leashed fury. “Because of him?”

She swallowed and bobbed her head weakly.

“Well, he’s not here,” Michael snarled. “
I’m
here. And I’m not going anywhere. So you’d better get damn used to it.”

Her heart thumped violently. “Michael—”

He slanted his mouth over hers, silencing her with a fierce, plundering kiss that left her quaking from head to toe.

“Does he want you the way that I do?” he whispered savagely, his hands tightening over her breasts, kneading and caressing them. “Can he sleep? Can he breathe? Can he
think
about anything other than being buried deep inside you?”

Reese moaned as her knees threatened to buckle.

“When he makes love to you,” Michael relentlessly demanded, “does he worship your body? Does he know when you want it hard and fast, or when you want to be taken nice and slow? Does he
know
you?”

A pathetic whimper escaped her.

Gripping her by the waist, Michael sank to his haunches behind her. Her pulse thudded, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out on her skin. She licked her lips, dizzy with desire and anticipation as he reached under the nightshirt and grasped the waistband of her panties. The damp scrap of lace rubbed her swollen clitoris as he dragged the underwear down her legs, the friction making her mewl in wanton response.

Trembling, she braced her hands on the table and bowed her head, her hair hanging over her face as he caressed the swell of her bottom, crooning softly in masculine appreciation.

“What about now, Reese? Still feeling homesick?”

His words were taunting, but she heard the unmistakable arousal in his deep voice, felt the coiled tension in his body. He was as close to losing it as she was, and just knowing that whipped her into a near frenzy of lust.

He slipped his hands between her shaking thighs, coaxing them apart. She was so sensitized that the faintest brush of his knuckles almost made her come right then and there.

Slowly, provocatively, he ran his finger down the cleft of her bottom, tormenting her as he inched ever closer to her drenched, pulsing sex. Just when she was on the verge of climbing out of her skin, he parted the slick folds of her labia and slid his long finger inside her. She cried out wildly, arching her back and raising her butt higher against him. His low, rumbling groan of pleasure thrilled and inflamed her.

“You’re so wet,” he purred in ruthless satisfaction. “You’re wet for me, aren’t you, Reese? Not him—
me.
”

She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, her mind and body completely turned over to his will.

As his finger pushed deeper inside her, she let out a shuddering moan and undulated her hips against his hand, craving more of the erotic, gliding friction. He murmured softly in approval and eased another finger inside her, stretching her. A broken sob caught in her throat. Her thighs trembled as he expertly worked her tender flesh. Her inner muscles tightened and clutched around him, straining for release.

And then he pressed his hot mouth to her sex.

A strangled cry erupted from her throat.

She bent low over the table, gripping the edge so hard she broke a nail. He tasted her, stroking his tongue up and down her labia before pulling her clitoris between his lips.

It was too much for her.

She shot to her tiptoes and came with a violent shudder, biting her lip to stifle the keening wail that rose up in her throat. A wail that would have awakened the entire neighborhood.

It was the most earth-shattering orgasm she’d ever had. She rode it out hard, her body convulsing for what seemed an eternity.

It was only when she’d grown still that Michael took his tormenting mouth from her and moved back.

As the fog of lust gradually cleared from her brain and sanity returned, a wave of shame engulfed her. Her newfound resolve to resist temptation hadn’t even lasted a day.

When Michael silently held out her lace panties, her cheeks flamed with humiliation. With as much dignity as she could muster, she took her underwear from his hand and turned away to slide them back on. Her hands shook as she pulled down her nightshirt and smoothed it over her thighs.

After taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned to face him.

He had risen to his feet. He seemed even taller as he towered over her, though she didn’t know whether it was a trick of the moonlight or a perception contrived by her shattered nerves.

She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to step backward in cowardly retreat.

Squaring her shoulders, she said evenly, “Look, I understand what just happened here.

After the way I ignored you tonight, you wanted to prove to both of us that I’m still attracted to you. Fine. Mission accomplished. But that doesn’t change anything between us, Michael. As you confirmed today, I
am
in a relationship, and until that changes, you and I have to keep our hands—and mouths—off each other. Deal?”

A shadow of a smile curved his lips, and he shook his head slowly at her. “You don’t understand, sweetheart.”

She sighed impatiently. “Don’t call me—”

“That was just an appetizer,” he continued huskily, his dark eyes glittering with illicit promise. “It’s only a matter of time before I’ll have you for the main course.”

Reese’s stomach bottomed out.

They stared at each other for a long, electrified moment.

And then, without another word, she turned and fled back into the house like the coward she was.

Sterling Wolf considered himself the luckiest man in the world.

He had his health, he lived in a beautiful house that was the envy of his neighbors and he enjoyed more of an active social life than many men half his age. But what Sterling was most grateful for, what he treasured most in the entire world, was his family. Not only had he been blessed with two of the best sons any father could ever ask for, but he now had a wonderful daughter-in-law and two grandchildren he absolutely adored. The Lord had blessed him indeed.

So he didn’t need a woman by his side to make him feel complete. After the way his marriage had ended nearly thirty years ago, Sterling figured he was better off alone, anyway. Not that he lacked for female companionship. Even a man his age still had needs, and he indulged them discreetly whenever possible. But in the years since his divorce, no woman had ever made him consider taking another stab at marriage. Until today.

The strangest thing had happened while he and Asha were playing with their grandsons that evening. One moment he’d been tossing Matt into the air; the next moment he was staring into Asha’s laughing eyes and feeling like he’d been sucker punched in the gut. And Asha—who oozed more sex appeal than any woman he’d ever known—had given him the shy smile of a virgin on her wedding night.

Hours later, Sterling was still scratching his head, trying to make sense of that odd little exchange. It was no secret to anyone that he and Asha detested each other, to the extent that if Sterling ever
did
find himself in the market for a wife, Asha would be the
last
person on earth he’d ever consider marrying. She was bourgeois, selfish, manipulative and too damn used to getting her own way. Her world revolved around hosting ritzy fashion shows, running her clothing empire and jet-setting to Paris at the drop of a dime, while the highlight of Sterling’s social calendar was the annual fishing trip he took with his retired police buddies. Asha liked champagne and caviar, while Sterling couldn’t fathom why any sane person would willingly eat fish eggs.