Temptation's Kiss (9 page)

Someone from the crew picked him up at Casper/Natrona County International Airport and drove him out to the site where the RVs were parked. After leaving Sam at his trailer, he knocked on Patrice's door.

There was no answer.

He had not thought to ask the crew member if she was back yet. He looked around him. No one was out in this weather. The wind was bitingly cold, and the sound was like a banshee's wail. What was more is that since the sun had gone down the temperature had continued to drop rapidly. She couldn't be out in this weather.

He jogged back over to his trailer and was greeted at the door by Patrice. She grinned and pulled him inside. “Why didn't you check in the bedroom when you came in?” She was warm and toasty he discovered as he pulled her into his arms. She hugged him tightly then began helping him out of his bulky hooded coat.

“I had your key. I didn't mean to fall asleep,” she
told him. “Sam woke me. I knew you couldn't be far so I came into the living room to wait for you. How are you?”

T.K. was so happy to see her that he forgot about the bet and kissed her. She kissed him back. “I missed you so much,” she cried when he finally let her up for air. Her lovely brown eyes bored into his, and he saw that she had indeed missed him. He kissed her again and again. He had months of kisses to make up for.

When they parted this time, he asked, “What made you give in?”

She reached up and held his face between her hands. “Being with my family,” she said softly, “made me miss you more. Oh, I had a great time cooking Thanksgiving dinner with my mom and watching the game on TV. It was wonderful being with them. My heart was filled with love for them, but there was one key player missing—you.” She tried to read in his eyes how her statement had affected him. She only saw his desire for her in them. She gently kissed his lips. “I really like you, Trevor.”

An indescribable feeling of happiness came over T.K. At last, he could tell her how he felt about her without worrying about that damn bet. Why had he ever come up with such a stupid idea in the first place? “I couldn't wait to get back to you, either, Patty Cakes,” he told her, gazing down at her as though he could devour her whole.

“Oh, my God, not a nickname,” exclaimed Patrice,
but the sheer joy on her face belied her irritation. “Just kiss me!”

He did, and he kept on kissing her all the way back to his bedroom where he undressed her and then undressed himself, and they began to create their own love scene without a script in sight.

“M
mm, you smell good,” said T.K. as he kissed her neck and worked his way down her naked body. Her back was pressed against the bedroom wall. His hands cupped her hips as he knelt and licked her flat belly. Patrice held on to his powerful shoulders to maintain her balance. She felt weak with desire, her nipples were hard and she was wet and throbbing between her legs.

She made an attempt at conversation to try to quell the mad beating of her heart. “I soaked in your tub while I was waiting.”

From his kneeling position, he looked up at her and smiled. “So you were planning on seducing me?”

She quivered. “The thought had crossed my mind. I hope you've got condoms, or I'm going to be highly upset we have to stop,” she told him.

T.K. laughed and rose. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. “I was optimistic. There are a few dozen in the nightstand drawer.”

Patrice let out a longing-filled sigh as he placed her on the bed and knelt over her.

She drew him down and kissed him, her back arching upward. T.K. was already erect and steadily growing harder. He lowered his body onto hers, keeping his full weight off her with his strong arms. The urge to plunge into her was unbearably sweet. He didn't want to dwell on it for fear he'd embarrass himself by ejaculating early.

But what else could he do when her delicious body was pressed against his and she was writhing so temptingly beneath him? He felt her sex against him. It was so warm and inviting. The tip of his penis was at the opening, and she was shivering with need, almost panting, and he did what any red-blooded male would do: he took the plunge. Ah, she was tight. He felt her eager sex contract as if the lips of her vagina were her lips and she wanted to devour him. He couldn't take it. He pushed, crying, “Oh, God, you feel good!”

She cried out too, and then they were thrusting. She gave herself joyfully, as though a dam that was holding back her passion had suddenly broken and all of it was pouring forth for him. He rode her hard, his thrusts going deeper with each push and the momentum building. She screamed as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. At the sound of her release, he came to his senses and pulled out. His seed spilled onto her belly. He fell on top of her,
half ashamed of himself for not being strong enough to resist her long enough to put on a condom.

His body convulsed. Patrice was kissing his chest. He rolled over onto his back, thinking his bulk was probably smothering her. Up on his elbow, he peered into her face. “I'm sorry. That was worse than a teenage boy doing it with his girlfriend for the first time in the backseat of his car.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Patrice told him, running a finger along his jaw. “It was intense. I loved it.”

He gratefully rained kisses on her face.

“But I think I'll be in charge of the condoms from now on,” she added with a smile.

He laughed shortly. “Yes, ma'am. Maybe you ought to be. I forgot they existed for a moment there.”

“How about we shower together and see where that leads us,” Patrice proposed.

He was down with that and got up and pulled her to her feet. He paused when he heard a scratching at the door. Sam wanted to be let into the bedroom.

“I'll be right back,” he said. “Go ahead and start without me.”

Patrice went to the bathroom, and he went to open the door. Sam ran straight to Patrice. T.K. had a hard time corralling the dog and ushering him back out to the living room. “I think he missed you,” he said.

Patrice took a moment to rub Sam under the chin.
“I'm really sorry, boy, but it would freak me out if you stayed.”

T.K. grabbed Sam by the collar, and Sam allowed him to lead him outside. “You're embarrassing me,” he whispered. “Can't you see I've finally got her where I want her? Don't ruin this for me.”

Sam whined. T.K. led him to the kitchen and bribed him with his favorite kibble. “Just a little bit,” he said as he poured it into Sam's food bowl. “I'll take you for a short walk later on.”

Sam whined again when the wind whistled. T.K. laughed. “Yeah, I know it's cold outside, but you still need to go out later.”

He left Sam enjoying his snack in the kitchen and hurried back to Patrice, who was already soaping her body by the time he entered the bathroom. He watched her for a moment. She was beautiful to him. She wasn't beautiful in the Hollywood sense of the word. She didn't have perfect features, and her breasts, although heavenly to him, hadn't been augmented to inhuman proportions. She was healthy and vibrant, and the combination of her warm brown skin, toned and muscular body, wide-spaced brown eyes, high cheekbones, pert nose, full lips and raven's-wing hair was like an aphrodisiac to him. She was a real woman, and after so many women who were not real walking in and out of his life for the past eighteen years, he could now appreciate a real woman.

Patrice caught him watching her and smiled. “Come on in, and tell me about your trip home.”

He stepped in and took the washcloth from her, soaped it again and began gently scrubbing her back. “It was wonderful up until Aisha told me I should marry her.”

“What?” Patrice laughed. “Whatever possessed her to do that?”

T.K. told her everything. He even told her how Aisha had been trying to insinuate herself into his life ever since Malcolm's death.

“Be careful with that one,” Patrice said. “Women like that can be dangerously deluded.”

T.K. couldn't agree more, but he didn't want to talk about Aisha anymore. He wanted to put her out of his mind and let the lawyers deal with her.

“How was your trip home? Is everybody in good health? Did you get to ride Billy One Star while you were there?”

She smiled, remembering her visit. “We prepared the traditional Thanksgiving meal with a Southwestern flavor.”

“Then I suppose there were hot peppers in every dish, even the dessert,” T.K. said.

Patrice laughed. “There were some spicy dishes, but two members of the family were not partaking as often as they used to. Keira and Nina are expecting. Momma and Daddy are beside themselves with joy—two grandchildren!”

“Our families have had a banner year for babies,” T.K. said. “First Mira, and now two more are on the way.”

They were finished showering, so he reached up and
turned off the spray. He grabbed a big, clean soft bath towel from the rack next to the stall and draped it around Patrice's shoulders. Peering into her eyes, he asked, “Do you like babies?”

Patrice was a little taken aback by the question. Was he talking about babies because they had just been discussing new additions to their families? Or could he be asking her if she liked them because he personally wanted to know if she wanted babies of her own?

“Who doesn't like babies?” she asked.

T.K. could think of a few people who didn't. Edina had said she would never bear a child and risk losing her figure. Aisha apparently was willing to barter her child for money. “Not all women like children,” he said.

The expression in his eyes told her that he was saddened by this knowledge. She grasped him by the arm and made him look at her. “I'm not one of them. I love babies. Why do you ask?”

He told her about his request to Saul Abraham. “If Aisha continues to threaten to take Mira and disappear, we'll try to get custody of her. If we do, I would be the one to raise her. I want to be with you, Patty. I wondered if you would want to be with me if I came with a baby.”

Patrice took the towel, placed it behind his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. When she broke off the kiss, she smiled at him. “I adore you, and I'll adore her, too.”

After they dried off, T.K. led her back to his bedroom
where he asked her to sit on the bed while he took care of a few things. Intrigued, Patrice asked him what things. He gave her an enigmatic smile and told her to be patient.

He left the room. A couple minutes later, Patrice heard Maxwell's gorgeous tenor on the sound system. She got a condom out of the nightstand drawer, held it in the palm of her hand and then climbed into bed and covered herself with the top sheet. She was sitting in bed with her knees drawn up when he returned with a bottle of champagne and two wine glasses.

He sat on the side of the bed, opened the champagne, carefully filled the two glasses and handed her one. Turning around, he touched his glass lightly to hers. “To the victor go the spoils.”

Patrice laughed because she knew exactly to what he was referring. He'd won the bet; therefore, he was the victor, and she was the spoils. He'd already had her. “I didn't want to take your precious Camaro and make you cry,” she said in her defense.

“You can have it,” he told her. “You can paint it pink for all I care. I've got you, and I'm victorious.”

She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. “How sweet, but I'll keep my Jeep, thanks.”

T.K., who was used to giving his lovers extravagant gifts, was a bit surprised by her refusal. “Then you can pick out any car you would like to have.”

Patrice drank some of her champagne and eyed him. “I
don't need two cars. I like my Jeep. I don't need anything else.”

“Well, then how about jewelry?” He'd noticed she didn't wear a lot of jewelry. Maybe she didn't want to buy it for herself. Right now she was only wearing a pair of gold hoop earrings—and not the huge hoops, either, but something small and tasteful.

He frowned. “You don't want a flashy car, and you don't appear to be into jewelry. You dress nicely, but you're not a clotheshorse. What
do
you like?”

“Think about it a moment, and get back to me,” Patrice told him, this time giving
him
an enigmatic smile. She sipped her champagne while T.K. thought about their time together. He even went back as far as the first conversation he'd had with anyone about her, and that had been Mark when Mark had phoned him and told him that Patrice had just participated in a rodeo.

“Oh, my God,” he said when the realization struck him. “You're a simple girl in Hollywood. They're going to eat you alive.”

Patrice laughed. “You're wrong. I'm a
smart,
simple girl in Hollywood. Now, tell me what I like, Trevor.”

He put his champagne glass down, took hers and set it next to his on the nightstand, then drew her into his arms. They lay comfortably on the bed, wrapped together in the top sheet. “You like riding horses. You like making your surroundings beautiful. You spend a lot of time on your home. You like having loved ones around you, and you like feeding them. You like driving, too. If you have the
time, you'd rather drive than fly to a destination because you like the feel of the road.”

She snuggled up to him. “Bravo, you get me.”

“I'll buy you a ranch, and you can pick out all the horses you like,” T.K. said.

Patrice climbed on top of him. “Why don't I just ride
you?
” She scooted down and licked him from the hollow of his throat to below his navel. T.K.'s penis grew hard fast.

Patrice licked him along the underside and paused at the tip. He was mesmerized. Her beautiful mouth on him sent blood rushing to his member.

As much as he loved the feel of her mouth on him, though, he wanted her pleasure even more. He stopped her just as she was about to take him fully into her mouth.

“Not yet, baby. I want to enjoy you first,” he told her, and with muscles flexing, he lifted her and laid her on the bed on her back.

What he'd only imagined for months he now did to her. He took his time tonguing her nipples, which were sweet and ripe, the sensation unbelievably satisfying. He was so hard he was literally in pain. Patrice was enjoying it, too. She arched her back with her sex thrust toward him as if she was begging him to take her. He held on to his control, though.

Then his gaze rested on her sex—her wet, swollen sex. He lowered his head and feasted. Patrice couldn't hold back a little yelp that assured him he was doing
something right. He was gentle but thorough, only stopping after her body lay quivering on the bed. Then he spied the condom lying on the bed, she must have gotten it while he'd been getting the champagne. He got it and put it on. He spread her legs and none too gently thrust into her. Patrice took his roughness by giving it right back to him. She held on to his hips and returned thrust for thrust, looking deeply into his eyes the whole time. She came a few seconds before he did, and the look of extreme pleasure on her face heightened his climax later. He'd never felt this way before. Could it be he'd finally made love to a woman whom he was in love with? He analyzed it. Maybe he hadn't loved Edina at all. He'd held a part of himself aloof from her because he had suspected she wasn't with him out of love. But with Patrice everything was on the table. He was vulnerable with her. His next impulse was to protect himself. But he tossed it out as soon as it had occurred to him. In order to experience love, you had to leave yourself open to being hurt.

They were a bit breathless afterward as they lay in each other's arms.

Patrice sighed with contentment. Her stomach growled. T.K. heard it and laughed.

“I'll get up and scramble some eggs and make you some toast,” he said. “I really should have one of the crew go grocery shopping for me.”

“I've got food,” Patrice said. “We can go to my place.”

“Do you know how cold it is out there?”

“It snows in Albuquerque, too. I'm used to it.”

“I just want to stay in here with you,” T.K. told her.

Her stomach growled again. “I've got roast beef for sandwiches.”

“You talked me into it,” T.K. said, rising. “I've got to take Sam for a walk anyway.”

Patrice got up, went into the bathroom, quickly freshened up and came back out to search for her clothes. She found them tossed aside in the living room, the hallway and the bedroom.