| |
|
Forbidden Pleasure |
 |
|
|
©
Copyright, Lora Leigh |
|
All Rights Reserved |
| ISBN:
0312368712
|
|
Note: Lora Leigh's Books are intended
for those readers 18 years old or older. |
Excerpt:
“Mac, did you see my comb?” Keiley called from the bathroom, her
voice a little sharp with irritation and simmering with impatience.
“I have my own, Kei,” he reminded her in the same tone.
She moved from the bathroom, naked as the day she was born, water
still beading on her shoulders, her cap of dark hair mussed around
her face as she began searching the tops of the dresser, the vanity,
the bedside tables.
Delicate and fragile. That was his wife. At twenty-six she still
captivated him, made him harder than hell, and made him think of
fairies on a fantasy night. A sensual, sexy fairy sandwiched between
two male bodies and gleaming with moisture.
He shook the image away, frustration surging through him as his
control weakened further.
“It was just in there yesterday,” she muttered as Mac cinched his
belt and considered uncinching it just as quickly.
If he moved fast enough, he could be undressed, have her flat on her
back and his cock sinking into the fist- tight heat between her
thighs.
He was loosening the his belt when her gaze sliced to him.
“Don’t even think about it.” Hazel eyes were still dark with
lingering anger.
“I’m still in the dog house, then?” Mac grinned as he fastened the
belt before sitting down on the end of the bed to pull on the
scarred work boots he wore on the farm.
He tended to indulge Keiley whenever he could, but he had to admit,
there were times he was tempted to indulge more than just her
feminine wiles. That glimmer of confrontation and defiance in her
eyes often tempted him to indulge a dominance he had so far managed
to keep strictly under control.
“However you want to consider it.” She bent down, her delightful
little tush sticking up in the air as she looked beneath the bed.
“Keep flashing that ass at me and I’ll show you how short that stay
in the doghouse is going to be.”
He felt he owed her at least a warning. She had good reason to be a
shade upset with him after all. Standing a woman up for an intimate
dinner at home, complete with candlelight, because he had became
distracted at a horse sale wasn’t a good idea. Especially when he
had been warned to be home on time. He hadn’t forgotten a damned
thing. His control was just that shaky. He hadn’t dared show up on
time.
She had waited up on him, too. Dressed in scarlet red silk, thigh
high stockings and heels. She met him at the door, told him good
night as sweet as sugar, then went to bed.
His dinner had been in the oven. The candles had burned to nubs. She
had obviously eaten. And he had managed, for one more night, not to
mention the hungers tearing him apart.
“Touch my ass and you’ll lose your hand,” she informed him as she
straightened and looked around the room with an expression of
confusion. “That was my favorite comb, Mac.”
“Did you look under the cabinet?”
She had so much fussy female stuff in there that he sometimes
wondered how she found anything.
“Of course I did.” She shot him a frown that warned him he should
have already known that.
He flashed her a grin that had better warn her that he was getting
damned horny watching her run around naked. He wasn’t above seducing
her. She could protest until hell froze over, but they both knew
that after the first kiss she was going to cave. It was a given. He
knew it, she knew it, and his cock knew it.
She did beat a hasty retreat back to the bathroom as Mac drew in a
silent breath of relief.
“You know, you need to get a handle on yourself,” she told him,
causing him to catch his breath again minutes later as she left the
bathroom.
“That waistband is too damned low.” He glared at the sight of her
lovely hip bones above the elastic band of the shorts. And the so
called t-shirt wasn’t much better. It flashed too much belly, and
showed her navel ring. A navel ring that had been driving him crazy
the past few months.
“Get used to it, Daddy,” she pouted sarcastically. “Do I bitch over
your t-shirts that stretch over your chest, or your ass in your
jeans?”
“My jeans aren’t low enough to flash my dick, either. There’s not
enough material to those shorts to keep yourself decent, Keiley.”
Let alone him. He was almost panting now. His balls were tight. He
was ready to fuck and he was ready to go for it now. She was
tempting a hungry man. And she knew it. Over the past year his fiery
wife had become a sexual force to be reckoned with.
“That’s too bad. I’m sure you would get a lot of notice if they
were.” She eyed the bulging crotch before glancing back at him with
sparkling amusement. “Arrested, too, most likely, but it would
definitely be interesting.”
“Change clothes.”
“Not on your life.”
She slid her feet into a pair of sandals and walked sedately out of
the bedroom, her ass twitching in those damned too- tight shorts,
flashing it at him like a matador flashes a red cape at an enraged
bull.
Did she intend to go out in public like that?
Mac jerked his shorts on, working the buttons as he stomped through
the hallway and downstairs to the kitchen.
“Where are you going today?” He asked as he came to a stop in the
doorway, watching as she put coffee on.
“No place, unless you start demanding I change clothes first. Then,
I don’t know. Main Street shopping, or if you prefer, hooking the
street corners.” She blinked back at him innocently.
“Smartass.”
“Don’t start, Mac.” Her frown said it all.
“You might as well go ahead and forgive me, Keiley,” he warned her.
“Why should I do something that stupid?” he asked incredulously.
“This is three days in a row that you’ve come home late from some
sale or meeting. Normally I’m in the bed asleep before you ever walk
in the front door. If I did that to you, you would have a fit.”
“I’d paddle your ass,” he muttered.
“Don’t tempt me, McCoy. I still have the baseball bat.” Tense,
narrow-eyed, and now spitting mad, she faced him like an enraged
little fairy. All she lacked was the little gossamer wings
fluttering for effect.
“Did you find your comb?” He changed the subject quickly.
She wasn’t fooled, but at least she let it slide.
“No.” Ruffling her fingers through her hair, that little confused
look filled her face again before she turned back to the coffee pot
and flipped it on. “I must have moved it without thinking.”
Which wasn’t like Keiley. Then again, the atmosphere between them
had been more than a little strained lately. He shouldn’t have
stayed out late, no matter how hard he was trying to avoid looking
at himself in the mirror. He just had to do it again the next
morning anyway. And it wasn’t as though wasn’t like he could forget
the hungers that raged through his mind.
The missing comb bothered him though. His mind refused to let go.
“Have you lost anything else?”
“You’re not an FBI agent anymore, Mac,” she reminded him as she took
cups out of the cabinet. “You are now a farmer and horse and cattle
breeder. Remember?”
“You know what they say, Kei, you can take the boy out of the
agency”, he shrugged.
“Well, un-agent.” She pulled the refrigerator door open and
collected eggs, butter, and bacon. “I’ve just misplaced the comb
without thinking. That’s all. I’ll find it before long.”
Maybe he was going a little overboard, Mac thought, but it felt
funny. Keiley didn’t just lose things. For all her fussy feminine
girly stuff, she was so organized she made his back teeth clench at
times.
“I’ve been distracted lately ,” she finally admitted. “It’s been a
long month.”
He heard the note of censure in her voice and felt an edge of guilt.
Guilt wasn’t something he liked feeling in his marriage. It meant he
was failing her. That he had hurt her, and the last thing he wanted
to do was hurt Keiley.
Hell, he had said one could take the boy out of the agency, but this
had nothing to do with his work as an agent. It had to do with his
sexual past. One could take the man out of the club, but the club
still lingered in him. The needs were beginning to eat him alive.
But if he wasn’t wrong, Keileys were now eating at her as well.
Restraining the dominance knotting his gut was becoming harder by
the day. Restraining his sexual hungers was becoming impossible. And
it was giving his delectable little wife the impression that his
back was made for her delicately shod feet to walk right over.
“I’ll try not to be late again,” he promised, watching her back
tense as she laid bacon in a pan.
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll just make certain I don’t make any more plans
to surprise you.”
Damn, that one hurt. Mac winced. He liked her surprises. When she
met him in silk, stockings, and heels and smelling of a faintly musk
and floral fragrance that made his dick pound and his hands ache to
touch her.
No more surprises meant no more wild sex on the coffee table, the
couch, or the chair. That didn’t suit him at all.
“I could always surprise you instead,” he suggested.
“You could.” She nodded. “You could start by telling me what has you
wound up tighter than one of your studs during breeding season?”
She glanced back at him too fast for him to contain his reaction.
Hell, he had been out of the agency too long. He knew she caught the
flash of guilt in his eyes, the telltale wince of his expression.
The tightening of his lips.
“It’s been a busy month, Kei.” That was his story and he was
sticking to it. For now.
Until he knew for certain where she headed with it. In the past
three years he had watched her grow in sexuality and confidence.
He’d pushed the boundaries needed to help her deal with the gossip
and the people of a quickly growing community and helped guide her
toward the friends he knew would aid in that. Now, Keiley was making
her own steps. For the past year, she had been pushing herself, and
him.
And it appeared she was beginning to reach for an even higher goal.
His dick tightened painfully at the thought, every muscle in his
body tensing in preparation for it.
“As I said, it would surprise me.” She turned back to the bacon, but
her shoulders were straighter, her back still tense.
That damned sleeveless t-shirt was riding up her back, too, flashing
skin. Skin he could be kissing right now if he weren’t such a
jackass. If nightmares and desires weren’t haunting his dreams and
pushing his own tension higher. A tension Keiley was obviously
reading well, and reacting to as their marriage progressed.
In the past three years he had found a place within the social
structure that existed in Scotland Neck. As an independent computer
analysis and programming expert, she had joined the Business Council
in town. She was a part of several charities, and worked several
hours a week as a volunteer at the local women’s shelter. She was
thriving here. The years she had spent under suspicion because of
her father’s embezzlement at a high level D.C accounting firm, and
his subsequent imprisonment and death, were slowly being forgotten.
On the surface, their marriage seemed perfect. In a lot of ways, it
was perfect. If it weren’t for the darker sexual hungers that filled
him, then the unnatural stress beginning to grow between them would
never have been there.
“Coffee.” There was a note of thankfulness in her voice as the
machine beeped to indicate it had completed the brewing cycle. “Sit
down Mac, you make me nervous hovering over me like that.”
He wasn’t exactly hovering over her. Just trying to get a little
closer as he considered another attempt to get into those indecent
shorts.
Instead, he did as she suggested and sat down at the kitchen table
while she cooked. It occurred to him that while she was frying bacon
might be the wrong time to risk making her any madder. She only
fried bacon in black iron, and if she ever decided to use it as a
weapon, he was in some serious trouble.
But he couldn’t help the hunger gnawing at his insides, either. Over
the past three years he had become something, someone, he wasn’t.
And it was beginning to leave a funny taste in his mouth.
He had always been an extreme lover. The dark sexuality that drove
him had always been a part of his character. It was one of the
things that made him a good investigative agent. He understood the
darkness, the shadows that could drive a man to extreme acts.
It was a part of himself he hid from Keiley. And in hiding it from
her, he was beginning to become wary of the press of darkness in his
mind.
“I think you miss your friends in Virginia,” Keiley announced as she
set breakfast on the table, causing Mac stare back at her warily.
Mac arched his brow allowing his expression shift momentarily with
the hunger eating away at him.
It was beginning. He could feel it now, it was in the air as thick
as the scent of bacon frying and coffee wafting beneath his nose.
The challenge was being laid on the table. Finally.
For years he watched her navigate the gossip that begun with their
appearance in his hometown. Old would-be flames prodding at her.
Innuendo, smug smiles and outright lies concerning his activities
away from her had gone from worrying her, to amusing her.
Now, she was stepping into territory she had left unexplored when
she escaped Virginia, and the fear of his past sexuality. The fear
was no curiosity. The gleam of it in her gaze had fire ripping
through his body and for the first time since he realized what meant
to him, he let it free in his expression.
Keiley’s lips parted almost in surprise, as though the arrogance and
sexuality of the look had come as a shock to her. And it would have.
Mac rarely allowed enough of a chink in his façade to let her see
the shadows that tormented him.
She cleared her throat delicately. “You know, all your male bonding
guy things at Sinclair’s Club.”
She stared back at him with supreme innocence. Her hazel eyes were
bright and compassionate, her expression sympathetic. As though she
were talking about a baseball buddy or guys’ night out at the local
bar. But he saw the heat shadowing it, burning behind the blander
emotions
“There were no bonding guy things there, Kei.”
“Do you miss it?” She tilted her head to the side, watching him
curiously.
“You know what the club was,” he reminded her. “I don’t miss fucking
other women if that’s what you’re asking me.”
Keiley kept him more than satisfied sexually. She knew how to tease
him, how to make him crazy and she was as adventurous as hell. More
adventurous than he deserved. And yet less than he needed.
“That wasn’t what I was asking you, Mac.” She rolled her eyes before
lowering them to her breakfast. “Just forget I mentioned it.”
“Why did you mention it?”
She stared back at him once again, her gaze reflective. “Because,
you’re too tense. You have very few friends here and despite the
invitations we receive, you never want to socialize. You weren’t
like this in Virginia, Mac.”
“I’m busy, Kei.”
“You’re hiding,” she denied. “And hiding never works. It’s
definitely not going to work with me. Are you missing your sex games
in Virginia, Mac? Is that the problem?”
If her tone had been anything but understanding and faintly sad, he
could have snapped back at her. He could have stood up and stomped
out. He could have avoided her.
But she was staring at him with that faintly frightened expression
she had used the first time she asked him about the club. Wariness
filled her eyes and he felt like a jerk. Like a bastard. Like he was
failing her.
“I’m not missing any sex games.” The lie came easily to his lips,
but there was that bad taste in his mouth again. “Now eat your
breakfast.”
And stop talking about sex games and the club.
“What was it like?” She asked as he dug his fork into the scrambled
eggs on his plate.
“What was what like?”
“Sharing a woman with Jethro Riggs? Didn’t you ever get jealous,
Mac?”
Close Window
|
|