Wicked: Sweet Temptation [Wicked Series Book 4] (2 page)

She laughed. “Although the offer is more tempting than anything I can think of, I can’t. I have to go.”

The top of her head barely reached his chest. She stood only inches over five feet tall and was the shortest woman he’d ever been with. Making love to her was a challenge, him being six-one, but he’d taken the task to heart without a moments thought. He loved the fact she was so tiny and doll-like.

When she started to walk away, he reached for her, hooking his hands under her arms and lifting her from the ground so she would be eye-level with him. “Come on, Tink. One for the road, eh?”

She laughed. “Put me down and stop calling me Tinker Bell. I told you it was degrading.”

“No its not. It suits you perfectly. You’re small enough to fit into my pocket but at the moment, I’d rather you be down the front of my pants.”

She glanced down and raised one eyebrow at him. “You aren’t wearing any pants.”

“Then you’ll have no problem filling that pretty mouth of yours with my dick.”

“You, are an immoral human being, Mick Sheppard. I’m going to pray for your soul.”

“You do that,” he said, turning and walking to the bed. He laid her down and covered her with his body. “Right after I here you scream to God for mercy.”

He kissed her, forcing his tongue past her lips. His hand slipped under her shirt, cupping her breast, and deft fingers pinched her nipple into a hard peek. She moaned and sank into the bed, her legs wrapping around his hips.

“I knew you wanted me,” he whispered against her lips. “That little pussy is probably already drenched waiting for me.”

“Mick, I don’t have time,” she said, trying to sound convincing while running her fingers through his hair. “I have to pack and I have a hangover like you wouldn’t believe.”

“It can’t be any worse than mine,” he said, lifting her shirt and pulling her breast from her bra. He licked her nipple before sucking it between his lips. “I specifically asked for a wish last night and I don’t remember getting it.”

She forced a chuckle past her lips. “The way my ass feels this morning, I can tell you without a doubt that yes, you did get it.”

“Mmm,” he said, “I’ll take your word for it.” He unsnapped her jeans, his hand crawling under the material and she gasped as his fingers slid between her folds. “Wet, just as I suspected.”

“Mick…” Her protests were useless. He wasn’t listening and neither was the rational side of her brain. She had to pack and catch her flight but one feel of his talented fingers and she was putty in his hands. He had her naked moments later, his cock sliding into her wet heat with enough force to cause a small gasp to rip from her throat.

“Faith, why do you feel so damn good?” he asked, panting for breath. “I could fuck you everyday for a year and never get enough.”

He set a relentless pace, his hips driving into her without mercy and she gasped with every intrusion of her body. He loomed over her; her face was buried against his chest as she held on to him and she tried not to come. She could already feel spasms wracking her womb and knew it wouldn’t take much longer.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her legs clamping around his hips, her fingers digging into his back and she groaned when he suddenly stopped.

“Not this time, sweetheart,” he said, pulling out of her and flipping over onto his back. He reached for her, dragging her on top of him. “You’re not going to come until I say so. Now, ride me. I want to memorize every inch of you while you milk my cock.”

Faith braced her hands on his chest and stared down at him as she lifted her hips and slowly slid back down. He was staring up at her, his lips parted while his hands mapped out every inch of skin he could touch.

He wasn’t the type of man her daddy would approve of. His appearance alone would earn strikes against him. He was covered with tattoos, some as ruthlessly sexual as he was. He had a piercing in his eyebrow, one in his tongue and one cleverly placed on his cock that did things to her she couldn’t even describe. He cursed like a sailor, said the most salacious things she’d ever heard but he made her purr like a kitten with warm milk. She didn’t think there was anything she wouldn’t do for him, or let him do to her, and lord knows he’d damn near done it all.

She couldn’t remember how many times she’d let him have her but one thing she did know … she’d miss him when she went back home.

He grabbed her suddenly, holding her still while he lifted his hips, forcing his cock into her as far as it would go. She gasped, bracing herself against his chest as he pounded into her from underneath. The look on his face was fierce, his eyes locked with her own and she could do nothing but stare back at him and wait for what she knew was coming.

She felt it minutes later, her stomach clenched as his fingers dug into her hips and he grew thicker inside of her.

“Faith…”

That one whispered word uttered past his lips as he ravaged her soft flesh and she was undone. The tension uncoiled in a blinding shower of heat that crawled from her core and lashed out at every pore on her body until she screamed with the force of it. She heard him grunt under her, his hold on her tightening until he threw his head back, his mouth opening in a silent scream as he fucked her near stupid.

When he stilled, she collapsed against him, panting for breath while his hands spanned her back and his fingers danced in random patterns across her skin.

The voices of people outside filtered into the room and Faith wondered if they’d heard her screams. Her head pounded as her blood rushed through her veins and the heat coursing through her limbs left her feeling groggy and sated. A week with this man wasn’t enough. The hours they’d spent together were only brief flashes of time she’d never get again. After today, he’d be gone forever.

He kissed the top of her head, holding his lips to her and mumbled, “I’m going to miss you, Tink.”

She smiled and hugged him to her. “I’m going to miss you, too, Mick.”

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Mick opened his eyes and stared at the clock before sighing. Faith had been gone for hours and he still hadn’t bothered to get up off the bed. He’d reluctantly let her go after spending less time than he wanted tasting every inch of her skin and couldn’t take his eyes off of her as she gave him one last smile and left his room … and his life forever. The cottage still hung heavy with the musky odor of sex. His sheets smelled like her, his skin was covered in her scent, and he was loathed to wash it off. He knew he’d never see her again and that fact alone left him feeling empty for the first time in years.

Since the day he realized his ex-wife, Jennifer, had only married him for his money, he’d locked the part of himself that actually cared about women away and had no intentions of ever bringing it back out but one week with Faith and it demanded to be set free. He guarded his heart the best he could but the loss he was feeling now let him know he hadn’t done enough.

He hadn’t lied when he told her he’d miss her. He already did.

Sitting up, he stared around the room and snorted a laugh. The room was trashed. Housekeeping was going to charge them a fortune to clean the mess up. An array of assorted liquor bottles littered the room. Various pieces of trash and take-out containers, empty tubes of lube and an assortment of used condoms were tossed haphazardly near the trashcan. He tried counting how many were there but just looking at them made him think of her and thinking of her made his chest ache.

Standing up, he searched the room for the pants he’d dropped earlier. Finding them near the dresser, he tried shaking the wrinkles out. A piece of paper fell from one of the pockets and he reached down and picked it up, unfolding it before reading what it said.

His vision was blurry due to the massive headache from his morning activities and the hangover. The words were distorted but squinting, and holding the paper close to his face, brought them slowly into focus. His eyes widened as he read what appeared to be a legal document. His pulse started to race when he read it a second time to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood what he was seeing. The room started to spin suddenly, his heart clenching in fear as the words screeched through his head before he started to scream.

“No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Please let this be a joke.” Faith shoved the newspaper between her leg and the seat of the plane and stared out the small window, watching the clouds rush by. They were half an hour from Atlanta and the flight from Vegas had been spent recalling the past week and wondering if anyone back home would ever find out what she’d been doing. She’d reassured herself no one would know and had finally convinced herself that her daddy would never find out what a sinful little heathen she was.

Now this.

Reaching for the paper, she straightened it out, smoothing her hand over the crinkled paper and once again looked at the picture on the front. She cringed and a pitiful moan eased past her throat.

“You are so dead, Faith Weston. The Reverend is going to kill you.” She moaned again and stared down at the picture. The low cut blouse she was wearing in the photo was enough to make her daddy preach her ears off but the way she was straddling Mick, and the fact he had two handfuls of her ass and his face half buried in her breasts would cause him to send her straight to the nearest convent … and they weren’t even Catholic!

What had she been thinking?
You weren’t apparently.
She frowned before sighing heavily.
This is bad. This is beyond bad.

The only thing she could hope for now was that no one at home ever saw the photo. Giving Mick a lap dance in a crowded hotel bar for every man and woman within viewing distance to see hadn’t seemed like a bad idea at the time but someone had photographed it! Sure the picture was in a local Vegas paper but she wasn’t stupid enough to believe that the photo wouldn’t eventually get sold to some magazine.

And then her real troubles would begin.

Everyone at home would know she’d spent her week in Vegas partying with a rock star. Mick Sheppard to be exact. The baddest of the bad. So much trash had been written about him, he made everyone else look like saints. It was all lies, according to Mick, but the people living in the small town she called home would believe every word they read.

And this article painted her in a very disturbing light.

And why shouldn’t it? she asked herself, sighing as she stared at the picture. She barely even remembered the night they’d spent partying in that bar, something she wished they hadn’t done now. Sneaking around to meet in private was one thing, going out in public was something completely different. She should have known better.

Of course, it was hard to tell what she had been thinking at the time. She was experiencing a total blackout for most of the night. She remembered Mick calling her and asking her to meet him at the bar and she’d practically run the whole way. When she woke the next morning she had a hang over so bad she could barely see straight. She’d tried to wake Mick for half an hour to tell him she had to leave before giving one last look to him laid out naked on the sheets and left his room to sleep off her hangover.

And here she was. A week of blurry memories later and photographic evidence that she hadn’t been the good girl her daddy thought she was.

The seat belt sign came on moments before the pilot said they were approaching the airport. Her stomach tightened into knots thick enough to cause cramps and she swallowed the lump trying to choke her. Shaking her head, she crammed the paper into her bag and hoped no one she knew ever saw it. It wasn’t like Mick would tell. She’d never see him again and it took more energy than she wished to ignore the pain that thought caused.

The plane landed with only a few bumps and the fight through the crowd in the airport didn’t help calm her nerves. By the time she’d reached the baggage claim, sweat was rolling down her back. When she saw the Reverend, she nearly choked on her tongue.

“How’s my baby girl?”

“I’m fine, daddy,” Faith said, forcing a smile onto her face when he hugged her.

“You don’t look fine,” he said, pulling away from her and holding her at arms length. “You look a bit pale. Was the flight bumpy?”

“Aren’t they always?” she said.

He grinned. “Most of the time. Come on, we’ll find your luggage and get you home. Mabel has been at the house all morning cooking up a storm. No matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t get that woman out of our kitchen.”

“That’s cause she’s sweet on you,” Faith said, grinning as they walked toward the baggage carrousel.

“Pftt. Now don’t go spreading that rumor around,” he said. “Half the congregation has been trying to get me to court her. I don’t have the time or inclination for such things at my age.”

Faith laughed. “Daddy, you’re not too old to date and Mabel is a lovely woman.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and grinned.

“Okay,” Faith said. “So she’s ten years older than you and has more chins than you and me combined, but she’s sweet. And she can cook.”

“Having a sweet cook isn’t enough to make me want to marry a woman. Especially Mabel. She’s too bossy and tries too hard and no, before you even say it, her weight doesn’t bother me. It’s what is in a person’s heart that matters, not the exterior, but I’m not interested in remarrying.”

“The fact you just said that makes me believe you’re trying to convince yourself you aren’t sweet on her, too.”

“Don’t even start young lady.” He found her bags and lifted them from the carrousel, groaning at their weight. “What do you have in here?” he asked. “An Elvis impersonator?”

She laughed. “No. He wouldn’t fit. I brought you a showgirl instead.”

“Oh, I can see me explaining to the church come Sunday what I’m doing with a Vegas showgirl on the front pew.”

“Just tell them what you always do. ‘Brothers and sisters, pray with me and help this child find her way from the sin that’s corrupted her life!’”

He stopped and turned to look at her, giving her that look that said she was getting too sassy for her own good. “I can already tell that trip has ruined you. I should have sent Jacob along to chaperone.”