Tempt Me Tonight (35 page)

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, sliding both hands tenderly to her breasts, his thumbs stroking over the nipples, hot, sensual. She’d been unaware that her breasts were aching for his touch, but now she knew they had because it felt so good.

She sighed, whimpered—so ready for more that she could taste it. Still…“We can’t do this here,” she reminded him.

“I know,” he agreed. “But it’s your own fault for kissing me like that.” God, his voice was sexy.

“I couldn’t help it,” she breathed.

“And
I
can’t help
this.
” With that, he pulled her close, leaned in, and gently bit at the crest of one breast.

Shivers of pleasure rippled through her as a ragged moan escaped her lips, but she had to get hold of herself here. “My parents are upstairs. We can’t let things get out of hand like the last time we were out here.”

He released a low groan, then whispered throatily, “Let’s go outside.”

She pulled back slightly. “What?”

His eyes reprimanded her, his voice coming on labored breath. “Don’t look at me like I just suggested we do it in the middle of Main Street. If we take a blanket way out in the yard, by the woods, nobody’ll hear.” When she hesitated, he added, “The only other choice is to stop.” Then he nipped at her other breast, which had just grown more sensitive than ever in her life. “And you don’t want to stop, do you, cupcake?” He looked positively wicked, determined.

Trish glanced down between them, at the way she straddled him so lustily. No way could she say no—the need burned too hot, the pulsing between her thighs echoed too urgent. She was lucky she’d managed to resist letting him rip her clothes off right there on the porch, parents or no parents.

But—oh God, she wanted him just as much with her heart as she did with her body. Because he’d just bared his soul to her. Because she was leaving soon and who knew how many more nights they’d have like this. And because—yes,
she loved him
. She still couldn’t
tell
him—but in that moment, she knew she loved him with every fiber of her being.

She didn’t say a word, simply climbed off him and reached into a wicker trunk to draw out an old quilt her family had always used for picnics. Then she took his hand and led him out the door, making sure not to let it bang, and she let the splendor of the night, and him, fill her as they strode hand in hand through the big yard toward the woods.

A certain tension built between them as they walked in silence. Anticipation, heat—but more than that. Something deeper that had no name.

As they ducked under the canopy of the trees, Joe stopped and turned to face her. Even in the lush darkness, she could sense the weight in his expression. “Trish, I…”

Her veins surged with emotion. “What?”

He hesitated, his voice wrenched. “I just want you so damn much.”

They didn’t take another step. He pulled her close and she arched her neck for his tender kisses. His hands roamed her body with a sweet, thorough slowness that buried all thought or decision and left only sensation. When his touch finally came to rest on her breasts, their mouths met in a series of hot, hungry kisses that—like all else between them at the moment—soon slowed into something softer, sweeter.

Wordlessly, they peeled off each other’s clothes, letting them drop on the forest floor. Joe spread the blanket on a bed of wild ivy, then gently pulled Trish down with him until they lay side by side, touching each other and drowning in each other’s gaze. Moonglow sifted between the heavy branches and thick leaves to spread a kaleidoscope of light across their bare skin.

When she could wait no longer to soothe the ache between her legs, she reached for him and drew him into a long tongue kiss that culminated in her climbing on top of him and lowering herself warmly onto his erection. “Oh,” she breathed as he filled her. She moved on him—more of that lovely, timeless rhythm—but so much deeper now that their bodies were connected. She whispered his name. “Joe. Oh, Joe.” She loved him. So, so much. How could she possibly be planning to leave him? In that moment, it seemed crazy.

“Come for me,” he whispered up to her. “I want to watch you come.”

A breeze rustled leaves and cooled her hot skin, tightening her already beaded nipples as she continued to rock on him in heated gyrations.

“Come for me,” he said again. Lower, huskier this time.

She moved harder against him and sensed it building, the glorious release.

“Oh
baby,
” he groaned, almost as if he could feel how close she was getting.

And then it happened, like a sweet explosion, her body shattering into pieces, each of them filling with so much pleasure that they were forced to split again and again, like a tiny atom bomb going off inside her.

She clung to him when it was done, clung to him like maybe he was the one safe, dependable, loving part of a world gone mad. And maybe he was. Maybe her world
was
mad. Was it mad to live in a big city when you loved the country? Was it mad to feel compelled to climb the ladder in a job where you doubted those you worked to save? Was it mad to run away from the one man who made you feel brand new every single time he made love to you, to run away from the one man whose touch made your skin seem to breathe with energy and life? Oh God, maybe it
was
pure madness, but she couldn’t dig through it all right now. She could only clutch at him like a lifeline as he held her tight and whispered in her ear.

“I want to be on top of you,” he said. Just like before, that first night, on his couch. She’d been the crazy, wild seductress—and yet even then, somehow he’d managed to control her because that’s how much of herself she surrendered to him when they got this close.

Wordlessly, they rolled together, their bodies still as one. And then he moved inside her—each stroke slow and deep, so slow that she could feel every bit of friction as he slid in, then back out. And again…and again. They writhed together naked on the ground, their movements like slow motion, coming with an intimacy that somehow surpassed any hot, frantic mating they’d shared before. His tenderness astonished her as he whispered, “I love you, Trish.”

Every muscle in her body tightened. He’d said the words a million times when they were young, but this was…a hell of a lot different. Her lips began to tremble, her whole being suffering a thousand beautiful, stunning, tingling sensations as the words filtered through her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down until their bodies crushed flat together and she absorbed his warmth from head to toe. She could feel his breath on her neck. And she could hear the pain in his voice when he said, low but firm in her ear, “Forgive me, Trish.”

She pulled in her breath. Said nothing. Just felt the plea melt into her.

“Please,” he whispered. “You have to forgive me. I
need
you to forgive me. Finally.”

Oh God. They’d shared so much the last few weeks. Been so close. He’d bared his soul to her, told her his secrets. She’d tried to do the same, as much as her heart would allow. And she’d fallen in love with him again—or maybe she’d never fallen out of it. But either way, she loved him, too. Her heart was as full with him as her body. And maybe it was only her head—her damned, logical, analytical, frightened head—that had held her back from this moment. Because she knew now that, deep inside, she’d already done what he asked. She’d already forgiven.

“I do, Joe. I forgive you. I promise.”

He let out a heavy breath and seemed to sink deeper onto her. She felt his relief echo through her, felt a measure of tension leave him which she hadn’t even realized had been lingering there all this time.

“And I’m sorry,” she said. “Sorry it took me this long. Maybe in the beginning…I
was
trying to hurt you back, somehow—I’m not sure. I thought I was so mature, so grown-up, yet maybe I was just lying to myself. But I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Joe. I want to love you.”

“Aw, God,” Joe said, and Trish let a whimper leak from her lips. She began to move harder beneath him, wanting to feel him inside her more forcefully, maybe wanting to make sure that this was all real, that
he
was real, that his words were real, that none of it was a dream.

“Oh my God, baby,” he moaned, and then he thrust inside her with all the power she needed from him, and together they cried out softly as he emptied himself there. And the knowledge of it—of him leaving something from his body in hers—somehow made her whole.

They lay together after for a long moment, bodies still joined, not moving. It felt strangely as if the world had stopped spinning, as if only the two of them existed in their private hideaway in the trees. Trish became aware again of the pungent smell of earth beneath them, all around them. And she felt as connected to this place as she did to him.

“Stay,” he said.

She sucked in her breath—hard. “What?”

Gently, he rolled off her, his hand splaying large and warm across her bare stomach. “Stay here with me, Trishy. Don’t go back to your old life. Make a new one, here. With me. I know it’s a hell of a big thing I’m asking—but I’m asking. Stay.”

Verdict:
the judgment of a jury or judge that determines the guilt or innocence of a criminal defendant;
or
a decision.

Trish let out a deep, trembling breath. She barely knew how to answer, and she certainly hadn’t seen this coming. “Oh, Joe,” she murmured. “I don’t know.”

“You still doubt me,” he said.

“It’s not that. It’s not. It’s just…everything. My job, my life. It would be a lot to give up. And you and me—isn’t this…kind of quick?”

He looked almost dumbfounded by the question. “Quick? No, honey, I think fourteen years is more than enough time to lose. And if I thought you wouldn’t be happy here, I wouldn’t ask—hell, I’d follow you to Indy. But I see you here, with your parents, and fixing up the diner, and…you
fit
here, cupcake. You
have
to know that. You fit here. With me.”

Trish swallowed hard—at a memory. She didn’t want to still be feeling this, but since she was, she figured she may as well put it out there. “Joe, I do forgive you, I meant that. But…”

He leaned over, peered down into her eyes. “But what? Tell me.”

She pushed him up so that she could sit upright, too. She pulled her knees to her chest. She didn’t feel the fact that they were naked—it had quickly grown natural, easy, to be that way with Joe—but she felt the hard truth bubbling up inside her. “Remember when I said you should have come after me?”

“Of course.”

Damn, it had been a heavy night—and she wasn’t really up for more, but he’d opened this can of worms, so now she was going to spill them all out. “I still
feel
that you didn’t. To hear you say you love me just now was…incredible. But I have no idea how much faith to place in that love, how deep to believe it runs. And I don’t know how I could leave my whole life behind for something that—amazing as it’s been—feels…uncertain to me.”

“Trishy, what I just told you on the porch before…about my mom?”

“Yeah?”

He gently shook his head. “Nobody knows that. Not Kenny. Not Jana. Nobody. Because I never had the courage to tell them. Because I was so ashamed. But I wanted you to know,
needed
you to know…because I love you. And because I…didn’t want anything, any secret, standing between us.

“I was scared as hell to tell you. I was sure you’d see me the way…well, the way a lot of this town always used to see my family. But I still
needed
to tell you. I needed you to know
all
of me, the good parts
and
the bad.

“And you…somehow you made it okay. I mean…” He shook his head. “It’ll
never
be
okay,
but…maybe I should have known you’d make me feel better about it.” He sighed, looked her in the eye. “Because you
always
made me feel good about myself—in a way nobody else ever did.”

He stopped, pulled his knees up, too, and bent over. “Hell, Trish. I don’t know how else to say this. The last time I tried to let a girl know how much I cared for her, she was…you. I haven’t had a lot of practice. I just know I’m happy when I’m with you, and I think you’re happy with
me.
So I’m just asking you to think about it. Just think about it. That’s all I can do.”

Trish listened to the crickets, felt the thick night sounds. Then slowly, softly, told him her own truth. “I’d been trying to figure out how to tell you I was leaving. Probably in a few days. The diner’s almost finished, and I’m planning to call Lois Faulkner on Monday to get it back on the market. And I have cases to work on, people who are depending on me—you remember, the Richie Melbourne case, the college kid accused of rape.” Her voice went softer then, without planning. “I didn’t want to tell you, because I’m going to miss this, miss
us
…but I have to go. Surely you know that. I mean, it’s not like you could just walk away from the garage tomorrow if the situation was reversed.”

“But I would.” He said it without hesitation, like it was easy. “If I thought you were really, truly happy in Indy and you asked me to come there, to be with you, I’d sell the garage.”

She blinked, amazed. “Really?”

“Trish, I messed up our lives a long time ago. If you gave me a second chance to be with you, I mean
really be
with you,
forever,
I wouldn’t mess up again.”

The sureness in his voice left her speechless. Numb. But also torn inside, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself. She’d not wanted to admit, the whole time she’d been home, that she still loved him. And now she didn’t want to admit that staying here with him, in this world where they’d
first
fallen in love, sounded…good.

“I can only promise…to think about it.” Yeesh. She couldn’t believe she was saying even
that.
Or that she
meant
it.

But she did. She hadn’t considered it until this very moment—and yet now, suddenly, it almost seemed within the realm of possibility.