Tempt Me Tonight

To my dear friend, Renee Norris,
for all she does for me,
and for everyone else, too.
I am blessed to know you.

14 years ago

Tendrils of longing curled through her, hot and thick as the August night—and when his palm slid to her breast, that made it even
better.
She wanted this—wanted
him. Tonight’s the night.
She’d said those very words to him today on the phone and they echoed through her again now.

Her breath turned ragged as he began to knead her—slowly, so slowly—through her thin summer top and bra, raking his thumb across her sensitive nipple in rhythm with his kiss. The back of her neck tingled, and a tender little bite on her lower lip sent the sensation skittering lightning-fast down her spine. She forgot to feel the humidity pouring in through the open car windows, forgot to feel her usual fear—and the whole world narrowed until only the two of them existed. His hands, her body.
Mmm, yes. Tonight’s the night.

An old country song played low on the radio, promising that heaven was just a sin away, and crickets chirped in the trees as she whispered his name. “Joe.” It said everything.
I love you. I feel so close when we touch like this.

As his fingers closed over the hem of her top, his breath, too, came hard, needful. He pushed the fabric inch by agonizing inch up over her chest, then lowered one short but tantalizing kiss through the lace of her bra.
Oh God. Yes.

Pungent summer scents swept through the car on a warm breeze, nearly swallowing her, and she thought,
Please, oh please
—until finally he undid the bra’s front hook, using both strong hands to spread the lace and take her in his grasp. A fresh moan escaped her.

“Trish,” he murmured throatily. “God, Trish.”

And then came the lovely suction of his mouth at her breast, making her whimper and pant, sending sweet aches to the small of her back and the juncture of her thighs. Shifting in the reclined front seat of his ’85 Trans Am, she parted her legs and let him lean into her, so that what had pressed rock-hard against her hip a moment before now settled firm and solid between her thighs. Heaven
was
just a sin away—she could feel it tempting her.

Steamy, excruciating moments later, his work-roughened fingers stroked high on her inner thigh, soon easing their way past the hem of her shorts, and she kept thinking of saying no, but her body was still begging, screaming—
yes!

They both trembled when he touched her there. It wasn’t the first time, but it always seemed new. She could feel her own wetness. His fingers strummed her, and without quite meaning to, she began to move against his hand. When the car seat started to squeak, embarrassment bit at her, but it wasn’t enough to stop her.

Until he unfastened the snap on her shorts and slid the zipper down. “Let me take them off.”

His voice echoed low, persuasive, and she wanted to—oh Lord, how she wanted to. But she suddenly wasn’t sure—even now. What if it changed something between them? Especially now that she was leaving? What if it hurt, or was horrible and ruined their last night together? They’d be
back
together, in just a couple of weeks, but tomorrow both their lives would change—things would never be quite like
this
again. Let him take them off and there was no going back.

Her chest tightened as she released a heavy breath. Uh-oh. Maybe tonight wasn’t really the night, after all.

“Joe.”
Not a passionate declaration this time—instead, a plea of doubt.

“I love you, Trish.” His voice wafted over her, just as intoxicating as his touch.

Why can’t you do this? Why can’t you give yourself to him?
“I love you, too.”

“I want you so much. I’ve wanted you forever.” She’d never heard such deep emotion in his words—but then his voice shifted, sounding confused. “And I thought you said…”
That tonight’s the night.
She wanted to smack herself for feeling so sure earlier.

Her throat quivered when she tried to talk. “I know. But now I just…”

Above her, he released a heavy sigh. She hated that—hated bringing them to this grinding halt, like always. But she especially hated it now.
Why did you have to promise him on the phone?

“Trishy, you’re leaving tomorrow.”

As if she needed reminding of that. She’d been sure her imminent departure would finally make her ready. But now the same old fears lingered, tightening up everything inside her. She took a deep breath and tried to summon just one word.
Okay.
But instead, she heard herself pointing out to him, “I’ll be back in two weeks. Two short little weeks.”

“For the weekend,” he countered. “And then you’ll be gone again.”

“Joe, I love you. But…”

“But what, Trish? Why won’t you be with me? I just want to show you how I feel. I just want to…be inside you.”

She clenched her teeth. That almost got her, almost made her forget, once more, about anything but him and her and their bodies moving together. They’d gone so slow for so long—he’d been so patient. Joe Ramsey could have any girl he wanted, yet he’d waited for
her.

Don’t be afraid. Let this happen. If you’re not ready
now,
when
will
you be?

Make
tonight the night.

Yet tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “I want to. I just…can’t.”

Easing back slightly, he ran one hand through his dark hair and closed his eyes, clearly trying to fight his frustration. A heavy male sigh permeated the thick night air.

Lying beneath him, she began to feel naked—and more sad than excited now. “I’m sorry,” she murmured as she nervously reached to pull her bra back together.

Just then, the bright beams of headlights lit up the car’s interior. “Shit,” he whispered, raising to squint out into the glare. Trish struggled to get her bra fastened and her top back down as pure dread pummeled her. Who on earth could be out there?

A few seconds later, a face appeared in the window—Beverly Rainey, a racy, older girl Trish only knew in passing. “Joe? Is that Trish Henderson in there with you?”

They both sat up, and Trish wanted to snap,
Of course it’s me.
They’d been together for three years and everybody in town knew it. But she held her tongue and simply tried not to look too disheveled.

“Yeah,
it’s Trish,” Joe said in a tone that made her feel vindicated.

“I’m sorry to bother you two—but Trish’s dad is calling around, looking for her. He called up to the Dairy Queen while I was sitting outside with Rusty Tanner and some other guys.”

Trish’s heart leapt, making her forget Beverly Rainey was still referring to her in the third person.
“Why?”

“Apparently you missed your curfew?” Beverly said uncertainly.

Trish glanced at the tiny clock on Joe’s dashboard, then gasped. How had they lost track of time? She was almost an hour late! She swung her gaze to Joe in the darkened car. “It’s nearly two. We’ve gotta go.”

“Damn,” he muttered.

Joe rushed to start the engine as Trish reached for the lever that would raise her seat. Neither remembered to thank Beverly for coming to find them as he gave the Trans Am some gas and shot out onto the gravel road rimming Crescent Lake.

The ride stayed mostly silent as they turned out onto a dark two-lane highway, soon racing over the winding country roads that led to Trish’s house. “I’m sorry, Joe,” she said.

He gave his head a short shake. “It’s all right.”

But it didn’t
sound
all right.

Then he started punching buttons on the radio until he found something fast and hard by Lynyrd Skynyrd and turned it up loud enough to discourage conversation. Trish’s heart beat like a hammer in her chest as he took a curve a little too fast. Darn it, why couldn’t tonight have been the night?

When they finally pulled into the gravel driveway next to the big white farmhouse where Trish had grown up, Joe said, “I’ll go in with you, try to explain.”

Yet she shook her head, letting out the breath she’d been holding. “If I’m going off to college tomorrow, I need to start handling some things by myself.” Which was true—but the real reason was her dad. He’d never been crazy about Joe, or any of the Ramseys for that matter, and it seemed like a bad idea to put them face-to-face when her father was mad. Things felt messed up enough already.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded at him in the dark, then realized for the millionth time how
perfect
he was, and she found herself longing for a million different things—that they were older, that she wasn’t afraid, that college was already over and she was back here with him, ready to start their real life together. She grabbed his hand and their eyes met in the faint glow from the porch light. “Joe, I’m really sorry. About before.”

She heard his sigh and wished she could see his expression better. “It’s okay,” he said, but his reply still sounded stilted.

She forgot that, though—forgot everything negative—when he reached under his seat to pull out a small white box. “Almost forgot to give this to you.”

She smiled softly, then drew off the lid to find a dainty chain sporting a pretty silver pendant in the shape of a cat.

“To remind you of Pumpkin—and me.”

Her heart warmed and everything suddenly felt okay. She’d probably told Joe fifty times how much she was going to hate leaving behind the kitten he’d given her. Grasping the chain tight in her fist, she threw her arms around his neck. “I love it! I love
you.
And I can’t wait to see you in two weeks.”

“I love you, too, cupcake.” Lifting a warm palm to her cheek, he gave her a long, deep, soul-stirring kiss—the kind that would keep her awake all night just remembering it. It moved through her with slow heat, making her decide sex couldn’t be any better than this.

As she grabbed onto the door handle, he said, “Wait,” then reached over to gently zip her shorts back up.

“Oh God,” she said, filled with the simultaneous terror and relief of realizing she’d nearly walked in the house that way—and equally filled with the rippling awe of having his touch there again, even if only briefly. Okay, so maybe sex
could
be better. She’d find out with Joe soon, she promised herself.
Really
soon. Heck, after two weeks away, she’d probably throw herself on him.

After the kiss, he raised his hands to her hair, trying to smooth it, and she realized she must look a mess.

“Is it awful?” She peered over at him, trying to comb her fingers through it. It was bad enough she was late—she couldn’t come in looking like she’d just had sex, especially since she hadn’t. Quite.

“It’s
windblown,
” he supplied with a small, sexy smile. “We had the windows down—it’s a hot night.”

The hottest. In every way.

She squeezed his hand, leaned over for one more quick kiss that sizzled down through her like a lit firecracker, then got out and slammed the door. Watching him back out of the driveway to take off down the road, she clutched his gift tight in her hand, cherishing it already.

Tonight hadn’t been the night.
But soon, Joe. I promise.

A few hours before Trish was ready to leave for the University of Indiana, a knock came on the door and she opened it to find her best friend, Debbie, standing on the front porch. “Hey,” Trish said, smiling. Debbie must have come to see her off—she even held a small, slightly wilted-from-the-heat bouquet of wild daisies and Queen Anne’s lace. As Trish took it from her, she used her free hand to hold up the little kitty pendant at her throat. “Look what Joe gave me.”

Only thing was—Debbie wasn’t looking at the necklace, and she wasn’t smiling back.

“What’s wrong?” Trish asked.

Peering at her through thick glasses, Debbie bit her lip. “I hate this.”

“I know, but time will fly and we’ll talk on the phone and everything will be fine.”

Yet Debbie shook her head, eyes pensive beneath teased brown bangs. “No, that’s not it. I hate that I have to tell you something awful—just awful, Trish.”

Trish drew in her breath and set the flowers on the table by the door. “What are you talking about?”

Debbie took both her hands and squeezed tight. “It’s Joe.”

Trish’s heart seized. “God, was he in an accident? Is he all right?” She’d
known
he was driving too fast last night.

But Debbie just grimaced. “Trish, he…” She stopped. Sighed. “Last night he had sex with Beverly Rainey.”

The words pierced her like a bee sting, sharp and shocking—but since they weren’t true, she shook her head. “No, he was with
me
last night. We just ran into Beverly down by the lake.”

Yet…Debbie
still
wasn’t acting relieved along with her. Instead, her mouth stretched into a grim, straight line across her face. “No, Trish,” she said softly, continuing to hold her hands. “
After
that. After he left you, he…hooked up with Beverly.”

Trish shook her head
again.
“Joe would never do that to me.”

But the mournful look in Debbie’s eyes slowly began to bore into her, began to make her wonder, make her fear…