Teague (17 page)

“Shit,” he muttered. The place was packed and he was just thinking that he should call a cab because there was no way in hell he could drive, when Candace slid up beside him. Her red hair was loose, her mouth set in a sexy pout, and that body of hers was shown to perfection in a little black dress that barely covered her ass.

He gazed down at her and felt…nothing. She was beautiful, but she sure as hell wasn’t Sabrina. He winced at that thought. Christ. He was pathetic.

“Okay Mr. Simon, I’m going to assume that you have a good reason for ignoring me? I don’t even want to know how many times I’ve texted you and you didn’t bother to reply.” Candace held up her glass and signaled the bartender for another drink. “You want one?”

Teague shook his head. “Nah. I’m good.”

Hank the bartender handed her a vodka and soda.

“Can I have a slice of lime, Hank?” The bartender cut a fresh piece and plopped two into her drink. She took a sip, resting her elbows on the bar and studied Teague just a little too closely for his liking.

“What?” he barked. Not giving a damn that he sounded like a complete asshole.

Candace took a sip of her drink, eyes never leaving his. “You’re in a mood.”

“I’m not—” he shot back but then stopped. He was wound up and pissed off and halfway to drunk town. Not a good combination.

“Something’s got you ticked off,” she responded, taking another sip of her drink. “Why don’t we go back to my place and I’ll help you relieve some of that anger?”

“Not gonna happen.” There was no hesitation on his part and her eyes widened a bit.

“Wow. That’s cold.”

Man, he was making a mess of everything. She was a nice girl and it wasn’t her fault that his day had been shit.

“Look—”

But the girl didn’t give him a chance to explain. She cocked her head to the side and interrupted him. “You’ve met someone. That’s why you’ve been ignoring me.”

Here we go.

“Candace,” he began, but she cut him off again with a flick of her hand.

“Don’t worry about it, Teague. It’s not like we were ever a thing. We weren’t even close to a thing.”

Teague remained silent, staring down at the remnants of his whiskey.

“Who is she?” Candace asked. “Anyone I know?”

He started to shake his head and then swore, because hell, he was worked up and he had no right to be.

“No one.”

“Bullshit. Who is it?” Her eyes narrowed a bit as she took another sip and watched him intently. “It’s Sabrina, right?”

He didn’t reply. He gripped the edge of the bar and blew out a long breath.

“Huh,” Candace said softly. “That surprises me.”

He shot her a look. “Why’s that?” Instantly on the defense, he pushed away from the bar and faced her, head on. He was ready to argue. Hell, he was looking for a fight.

“Hey, don’t get your knickers in a knot.”

“My what?” he barked.

Candace put her hand on his forearm. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just, well, I never took you for the kind of guy to get mixed up in anything that has the potential to get messy or complicated. Didn’t think that was part of your DNA. I gotta tell you, getting involved with a woman with two kids is going to get complicated.”

“No shit,” he muttered.

“So, Sabrina,” she murmured, stirring her drink. “She’s a nice girl. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

He glared at her, hating the fact that she was making a whole lot of sense.

“Tell me something,” Candace said, finishing her drink. “Why are you here drinking alone? Why aren’t you with Sabrina?”

He took a moment and wondered how much he should share, and then thought, screw it.

“She made it pretty clear this afternoon that she wanted a time out and I don’t blame her. I just…” He swore and ran his hands along the stubble on his chin.

“You just?”

“I wasn’t ready for it to end.” There it was. The admission that had been banging around inside his head all evening. “And that’s wrong. So fucking wrong.”

“Why’s that?” Candace asked.

“Because I’m leaving next week.”

“Oh,” Candace said softly. “Heading back to the states?”

“No,” he said roughly. “Overseas.”

The band kicked into their final set of the evening and for a few minutes, his thoughts were drowned out by the music and the crowd. He glanced around, a scowl on his face as his gaze moved over the room. These folks had no idea of the shit that existed beyond their borders. He should be envious of that, but in truth he was just tired of it all.

So it was ironic that after he’d returned Richard’s call a few hours ago, it had taken Bowen less than a minute to convince him to travel back to Syria.

Syria. The one place on this planet that might break him for good or the one place that might be his redemption. His gut tightened at the thought.

“I should go,” he said, straightening and reaching into his pocket for his cell. He noticed that his brother Jack had called again, but it was too late to return the phone call so he ignored it.

“Hey,” Candace said as he stepped away from the bar. “Sometimes things work out. You never know. You and Sabrina might be a thing one day.”

He didn’t bother to answer that. Sounded nice, but Teague knew that nice didn’t exist in the world in which he’d chosen to live. Nice was the fantasy he’d indulged in over the last few weeks. And nice wouldn’t last.

She shrugged, a small smile on her face. “You know my number if you need to talk.”

Teague headed outside. He made sure his truck was locked up and secure and as luck would have it, a cab had just dropped off so he didn’t have to wait for a ride. He gave the driver a generous tip once they reached his place and stood in his driveway for a good two minutes, staring up at Sabrina’s cottage. It was dark, but then what had he expected? A candle in the window? Some signal that she wanted him tonight?

“Jesus Christ, get your head out of your ass,” he bit out.

He turned abruptly and headed to his house. Teague didn’t bother to turn on any lights—he didn’t need to. The moon was full and the generous expanse of windows let in a soft glow. He popped open a beer but before he had time to take a drink, he froze.

Listening intently, he took a few steps forward, his gaze moving over the entire room in a methodic grid, his body on full alert. His spidey sense was going crazy and he knew that he wasn’t alone.

Carefully he set his beer on the kitchen counter and moved into the great room. He didn’t make a sound, and there was a part of him that thrilled at the thought of a confrontation. How screwed up was that?

There was dirt from outside on the floor. He frowned as he continued studying the room. The blanket from the leather chair was missing.

And was that…a toe?

On soft feet he continued forward, not stopping until he stood in front of the matching leather sofa. Bingo was nestled into the corner, though the dog opened one eye at Teague.

Definitely not guard dog material.

His eyes moved over the sofa. It was strewn with pillows and in the middle of them was Sabrina. She was on her side, asleep, and she looked so damn vulnerable that it made him crazy. His chest swelled and he took a step back, surprised at the powerful yearning inside him.

Her delicate features were shown off to perfection by moon glow. With one foot sticking out from under the blanket, that mess of hair all over the place and a small frown on her face, he thought that this might be what angels looked like when they slept.

Teague didn’t know how long he stared down at her, but like a fool, he didn’t stop until her eyelids fluttered open. For a startled moment the two of them stared at each other in silence and then he opened his mouth. There were a lot of things he wanted to say but all he came up with was…

“How did you get in?” Huh. Great start to a conversation.

Sabrina pushed a chunk of hair from her eyes and sat up. “The door was unlocked.”

“Bad habit I’ve got, leaving the place open like that.”

Her eyes slid from his and he swore. He was screwing this up.

“Sabrina, I don’t mean to sound like a bastard.” He sighed and tossed his ball cap onto the table beside her. “It’s been a long night.”

She moistened her bottom lip and need hit him hard in the gut. They stared at each other in silence and that need turned to an ache that was going to be hard to get rid of.

“I should go,” she said abruptly, tossing aside the blanket and getting to her feet. They were bare, her toenails painted every color under the sun, and she was so close he could feel the heat of her.

“Why did you come?”

She licked her lips nervously and he took a step closer.

“Bree?”

The air was thick, charged with electricity he knew all too well. It was powered by need and want and it was so damn hot he barely kept from groaning.

She blew out a shaky breath. “I…I…shit,” she murmured.

When those big blue eyes of hers looked up at him, conscious thought fled like water down the drain. He knew this wasn’t a good idea, but he wanted her.

Badly.

“I wanted to talk,” she said, her voice thick and raspy.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, we probably should.”

That pink tongue of hers darted out to swipe at her lips and his groin tightened. If they were going to talk…

“You have to stop doing that,” he said roughly.

Startled, she froze. “Doing what?”

“That. With your tongue. It’s not fair.”

“Oh.” She swallowed again and his eyes fell to the smooth skin on her throat.

A thought struck him. “Where are Morgan and Harry?”

“They’re in town at Paul and Allie’s.”

“So we’re alone.” Did he sound as desperate as he felt?

“Yes.” The word came out so softly that he barely heard her.

She stepped around him and he was able to breathe a bit—get his shit together somewhat. Teague watched her as she walked over to the floor to ceiling windows. Outside the moon reflected on the water, sending a shimmer of diamonds skating across its surface. And Sabrina, well, her reflection in the window was haunting.

She looked ethereal. Fragile. So damn feminine and vulnerable. Their eyes met and held in the window for so long that his vision blurred and he had to scrub at them. She was breathing heavy, but then so was he.

“We can talk in the morning,” she whispered after a while.

He nodded but hell if he could answer her. He was caught up in whatever this moment was.

Slowly she pulled up her T-shirt and discarded it onto the floor. Next she shimmied out of her shorts, leaving most of her ass bare on account of the tiniest slip of pink underwear he’d ever seen. Her matching bra soon found its way onto the pile of clothes at her feet and then her fingers paused at the laced edge of her panties.

Their eyes were still glued to each other and Teague grimaced because his cock was engorged—painfully so.

She slipped her panties down her hips and stepped out of them, turning slowly to face him. Half of her body was in shadow, the other half moon kissed. She looked like every guy’s fantasy.

And she was walking toward him.

Kneeling in front of him.

“Bree,” he said hoarsely, but she shut him up when her hands unzipped his jeans. She freed him, her hands on his cock, gently moving up and down the shaft. To see her there, on her knees before him was a sight he would never forget. It was erotic and sensual and so damn hot that he was afraid he’d blow early and ruin everything.

“I want us to have tonight,” she whispered, glancing up to him. For a moment, he got a weird feeling. Almost as if she was saying goodbye. He started to speak but then she opened her mouth and took him inside.

Teague’s breath hitched and he lost himself in the sensation of a hot, wet, mouth sucking and licking and working him over until he could do nothing but surrender. Eyes half closed, he watched their reflection in the window. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

When he knew he was almost over the edge, Teague slid his hands into her hair and gently tugged until she let him pop free of her mouth. He didn’t say a word and neither did she. They were communicating on a level that was so basic, so animalistic, there was no need for words.

Teague ripped off his shirt and tossed it. He kicked off his shoes and his pants and let them fall. He reached for Sabrina and pressed her up against the window. He watched her closely, their reflection ghost-like, and when he slid inside her she moaned and clutched at his arm.

For a few seconds he stilled. Enjoying the sensation of being inside her. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he gritted his teeth.

“Shit, Bree.”

“Huh,” she gasped, arching her back as she tried to get him to move.

“We didn’t…I don’t have a condom on.”

She exhaled, her voice strained when she spoke. “I’m on the pill if you’re worried about pregnancy and I’ve…well I’ve never…”

“I’m clean.” This was hard. So hard to hold back. “I…”

“Teague, please.” She gyrated her hips and then he was lost.

She was hot and wet and so damn tight that it was going to take every ounce of control for Teague to ride this one out. For her, he’d do it. He’d do anything to keep this feeling alive. This feeling of completion. Connection.

Because it was so damn good.

Teague moved, slowly at first and then when she made that noise—the one that drove him crazy—he increased their tempo. He watched her face as she tightened around him—the parted mouth, the feverish eyes—and he growled with pleasure knowing he’d put that look there.

He rested his palm against the window, while his other hand gripped her hips, and when he came, he leaned into her shoulder, nuzzling her there, and smiling as she screamed her release.

“That was…” she gasped, eyes flung open when he finally managed to look up.

“Only the beginning,” he growled.

Teague scooped her into his arms and headed for his bedroom, desperate to keep their connection alive. He didn’t give a damn that this was probably the wrong thing to do. All he knew was that right now, in this moment, he needed her. And if he was reading the situation right, Sabrina was feeling the same.