Guilty Cravings (The Steamy South 1) (10 page)

His tongue moves were
positively sinful when he tortured and teased her, invading her mouth.
Mmm,
yes.
He tasted of sexy masculinity and the red wine they’d shared earlier.
She shouldn’t have had two glasses…or was it three? Because now she had no will
to halt the delectable kissing he was laying on her. Honestly, she had never
been kissed with such erotic passion.

Holding her face
between his palms, he gave her one last firm kiss and backed away. “I have to
stop, dammit.” He turned away, but not before she saw the prominent swelling
behind his fly. Wow. She forced herself not to pull him back to her.

“I have to stay
focused,” he muttered. She wasn’t sure whether he was talking to her or to
himself.

Me too.
Yes, how could she focus?

Ignoring her
arousal—she’d save it for later when she indulged in a good fantasy—she strode
across the room and tried to think with some rationality about what the caller
had said.

“I didn’t see any
sort of phallic object among Jared’s antiquities. If he had one, he must have
bought it within the last year or two, which wouldn’t surprise me. The only
problem is I have no idea where he would put it.” She knew she was talking too
fast, but it was the only way to move beyond the kiss and not drag Nick to the
couch and maul him.

“Were his safe
deposit boxes cleared out at the reading of his will?” Nick asked, his pupils
still dilated. Obviously, he was trying to ignore the attraction just as she
was.

“Yes. Nothing like
that was mentioned.”

“Hell, even if he did
own it, he may have already sold it months ago.”

“Exactly.” She
dropped silent, her mind going blank and fantasies of continuing that kiss
invading. It didn’t take much to set her mind on that pathway. Nick’s dark gaze
told her his mind was in the same place. Most any glance from Nick was heated,
and had been from the moment she’d met him, his smoky-gray eyes lingering on
her until he’d usually turned and walked away.

But getting sexually
involved with him would be about as intelligent as jumping off a cliff.

Focus, Emily!
Damn, her mind was mush around
Nick.

“I have to call Tia
and tell her about the threat to our bridal shop,” Emily said.

“Good idea. And I’ll
call the police and see if they’ll keep an eye on the place.”

* * * *

An hour later, hot
water sluiced down Emily’s body from the massaging shower head, rinsing the
fragrant pomegranate shower gel suds from her body. Anything to make her forget
the tantalizing scent of Nick. But nothing could erase his sexy image from her
mind. She visualized him showering and getting ready to go to bed in the guest
room downstairs.

The skin of her
breasts, belly and thighs was extra sensitive from the arousal that had gripped
her through dinner and after. Especially during that kiss.

She hoped Nick had
locked all the doors and windows as he’d mentioned he would after they’d made
their calls. Since he was a police officer, he’d more than likely cover
everything relating to the security of the place.

She didn’t want that
psycho invading her home again. Did he know Nick was a cop, or was this lost on
him since Nick was undercover and didn’t look like a cop? He certainly didn’t
wear a badge and he’d kept his guns hidden.

What if the murderer
even now lurked in the back garden? The gate had a flimsy latch on it and he
could easily break it. The trees and bushes that clustered in the walled garden
would provide good cover to hide in. She’d have to investigate tomorrow and see
if any of her flowers were trampled.

A memory came back to
her from a couple months ago. As she’d been walking home from work, she’d seen Jared
pull away from the curb outside her house and drive down the street in the
opposite direction. At first, she’d thought he might have tried to go into her
house. It would’ve done him no good because she’d had the locks changed.

She hadn’t bothered
to ask him about it. But later, she noticed some of her flowers broken and
fresh dirt and mulch on the brick walkway. Had Jared done that?

Now, she quickly
turned off the shower, got out and grabbed a thick towel. What if the two were
connected—Jared’s appearance at her house and the disturbed garden? At the
time, she’d thought one of her neighbors’ dogs had snuck in there. After all,
the gate had been ajar. But Jared had always known how to open the gate from
the outside without a key, with a lift and a shove.

What if Jared had
buried something in her garden? Shivers slid down her spine.

After yanking on
lounge pants, a T-shirt and her old walking shoes, she jogged down the stairs
to find Nick. They needed to do some digging in the garden.

She tapped her
knuckles against the white painted oak door of the guest suite.

No answer. Where was
he? She rapped again, harder this time.

Silence. Dear god,
what if the killer had knocked him out while he was locking up for the night?

“Nick?” she asked,
anxiety pitching her voice high. She quietly turned the knob and inched the
door open. The spraying sound of the shower relaxed her muscles a bit. That was
why he couldn’t hear her.

A harsh groan reached
her from the bathroom.

“What the hell?” she
whispered. Was Nick hurt? She tiptoed toward the noise. The bathroom door was
ajar about six inches. Pushing it, she peered through to see if Nick was
unconscious on the floor. For all she knew, he could’ve slipped in the shower
and thwacked his head on the granite tile.

No, he wasn’t
sprawled on the floor.

She started to call
his name again when she noticed movement in the shower. Steam obscured most of
the upper portions of the glass, but the water had rinsed the bottom portion,
allowing her a clear view through the transparent glass.

Nick grasped his
sizeable and very erect cock within his hand, slowly stroking.

Whoa.
She stood transfixed, heat
rushing over her. She had never seen anything so erotic. Correction, yes, she
had, but the other time had involved Nick and his gorgeous cock too.

What was she, a
voyeur? She should turn and run from the room.

But she couldn’t
move.

She was paralyzed
with fascination over the decadent image of Nick stroking his long cock. His
wet, soapy hand slid over it easily with firm movements, at first slow and then
faster. Sexy male moans and curses emanated from the glassed-in shower. Would
he sound the same if he were between her legs, driving deep into her? Her pussy
ached, craving the thick length of him spreading her.

When he’d stimulated
her to orgasm that morning, she’d found his naughty talk and growled words
highly arousing. When he’d urged her to come for him, how could she resist
doing just that? Besides, she’d been on the verge right before he’d asked.

She wondered if he
would let her stroke his cock. What if he saw her standing there now? What
would she do, flee or join him? Once he’d rinsed the soap from his body, maybe
she would drop to her knees before him and lick him, draw that delectable cock
into her mouth. What would he taste like?

“Oh fuck. Yeah, Em,”
he growled.

Her breath halted.
Had he actually said her name? Or had she only imagined it?

He muttered another
curse and cum jetted from his cock, the white liquid spewing into the air and
flowing over his knuckles. That scorching image and his words, combined with
the thick steamy air made her lightheaded.

Forcing herself to
move, she silently backed away from the bathroom, leaving the door as it had
been, and quietly jogged from the guest suite and up the steps on trembling
legs. Her nipples still tingled and her panties were drenched. She might have
to drag out her dildo later, though plastic was far less appealing than
flesh-and-blood man.

She returned to her
room, closed the door and slumped against it. Oh god, why had he said her name?
Had he been fantasizing about her? He hadn’t seen her, or he would’ve let her
know and quick. How mortifying it would’ve been to get caught spying. He’d
tease her and call her a voyeur.

Nick fantasizing
about her? The idea was shocking. Ridiculous. Maybe he’d said
Mmm
instead of
Em
. That was probably it. Her heart sank, leaving her hollow.
Jared had thought her unsexy and uptight. Cold, even. Maybe she’d been with the
wrong man, because she certainly hadn’t felt cold watching Nick. She’d almost
gone up in flames.

Anyway, she now had a
second erotic memory to add to her list of fantasizing material.

The first involved
something she’d seen right after her wedding—her new husband’s scorching-hot
brother getting his clothes ripped off by one of her own bridesmaids.

Nick’s shirt had gone
first, and she’d seen he had pecs and abs to die for. Then Cassie yanked up his
formal kilt. His fully erect cock leapt out at her. The woman had dropped to
her knees before him, wrapped her fingers around his shaft and devoured the
head in obvious erotic worship.

Close your eyes,
Emily!

But she couldn’t. He
was the most scrumptious eye candy she’d ever seen. He gently buried his
fingers in Cassie’s hair and moaned. His expression was blissful. Emily forced
herself to look away. Seconds later, a guttural curse came from Nick and she
couldn’t resist seeing what he was responding to. Cassie stroked his shaft up
and down, then took him down her throat.

With another curse,
he yanked her up. “Take off your clothes.” After removing his kilt, he ripped
open a condom while urgently guiding her toward the sofa.

Cassie was able to
fling her dress away before Nick laid her back on the cushions. He quickly
stripped her panties down her legs, and tossed them. Emily couldn’t believe how
aggressive yet gentle he was as he spread her legs and knelt between, his cock
sheathed in a condom.

From her vantage
point in the closet, Emily watched his cock slid in, first shallowly, then
slowly deeper. Cassie gasped, then cried out while arching her back. Clearly,
she wanted more. Who wouldn’t? Though guilt swamped Emily, she wished in that
moment she could switch places with Cassie. Nick was the hottest man she’d ever
met.

Emily had dealt with
the guilt since she’d first seen Nick and realized how unbelievably attractive
she found him. Apparently, most women felt that way about him, so she wrote it
off as some instinctive, biological power he held over females. She’d tried to
ignore it and focus on making her marriage to Jared happy. She had loved him,
or at least she thought she had.

What did she know
about love anyway? He’d cheated on her with another woman. End of story.

Emily had struggled
with whether she’d mentally cheated on Jared by fantasizing about Nick and
thinking about him when she was down or annoyed with Jared. Nick was
undoubtedly an even bigger womanizer than Jared had been. He knew his own
appeal. He knew women lusted over him, and he likely took advantage of that.

To be attracted to
Nick was normal, because all women were. But to think it would lead to anything
more was insanity. He wouldn’t know the meaning of emotion or commitment.

But why had he been
masturbating in the shower moments ago? Surly she didn’t turn him on that much.
Or maybe she did…a little. She hoped. It was quite an ego boost to be able to
arouse a sexy man like him. Had he done the same thing that morning when he’d
given her an orgasm, then gone to take a shower? He’d come out much calmer than
when he’d gone in. She would bet anything he had. He was a highly sexual man.
But why would he need another release now? The kiss?

Either way, she had
to go downstairs and face him. How could she talk to him without blushing
furiously…or melting with arousal?

She splashed cold water
on her face and dried it, then headed back down to the first floor. She forced
her expression to remain neutral and business-like as she knocked on his door.

A few seconds later,
he opened it and eyed her as if trying to guess what she wanted before she had
a chance to tell him. He wore a pair of faded jeans and nothing else. The
defined muscles of his chest and abs, and the way the soft denim cupped his sex
almost distracted her.

“Yes?” he asked in a
low voice. Or maybe it wasn’t a question at all. Maybe he was saying
yes
to her unspoken need.

Glancing away, she
cleared her throat. “I remembered something.”

“What’s that?”

“It might be nothing.
Follow me.” She strode toward the kitchen.

“Where? I don’t have
my boots on.”

“So, put them on.”
Folding her arms across her chest, she waited.

“This better be
good,” he grumbled. Hmm, maybe he was still a bit sexually frustrated. She
could hope.

A minute later, he
exited the room wearing black motorcycle boots and followed her to the mud room
near the back door. She took a garden spade from a closet along with her
gloves.