Guilty Cravings (The Steamy South 1) (2 page)

A man was creeping across
the floor away from her. She screamed and froze.

Muttering curses, he
spun and faced her. Broad shoulders, longish blond hair and silver eyes.

“Nick?”

His gaze, darkening
to smoldering, slid slowly down her body and back up. “Good god,” he muttered,
low and deep.

I’m naked!
Burning with mortification, she
shrank back into the bathroom and shoved the door closed. Where was her robe?
Back of the door. She yanked it off the hook, her hands trembling as she
struggled into it.

“Shit! What’s he
doing here?” she whispered. Her late ex-husband’s younger brother had no business
coming into her house uninvited, especially her bedroom, even if he was sex on
legs.

Once she was covered
in the silky pink robe, she inched the door open, half hoping he’d be gone.
Maybe he’d only been a figment of her imagination. No, he was still there, but
in a different spot, near the door.

“Trying to escape?”
she asked, coming into the room.

“Eh, yeah.” He
appeared to be examining the doorframe.

“What’re you doing
here?”

He blew out a harsh breath
as if he were letting off steam, and finally glanced her way. One would think
gray eyes were cold, but his burned into her. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got all day,”
she said, crossing her arms over her chest. He wasn’t getting off the hook that
easily, no matter how smoking-hot he was. She knew he was the type who’d try to
charm his way out of any tough situation. And though he was three years younger
than her ex, Nick was two years older than Emily, which made him twenty-eight,
plenty old enough to take responsibility for his reckless actions.

He motioned toward
the bathroom. “Your shower’s still running.”

“Don’t move.” On
shaky legs, she ran into the steamy bathroom, shut off the water, then
returned. “Okay. Explain what you’re doing in my bedroom. How did you get into
my house?”

Nick shifted on his booted
feet, apparently searching for the answer on her ten foot ceiling. “Where do I
begin?” He finally met her gaze. “Jared was murdered.”

She was expecting
anything but that. Sudden chills prickled across her skin. She’d known her
ex-husband died three weeks ago. His car had careened off a bridge into the
Savannah River where he drowned. “How do you know he was murdered? The police
said it was an accident.” Even though Jared had been a jerk who’d cheated on
her, he didn't deserve to be murdered.

“Don’t ask me to
explain how. I just know.”

“So, why are you
here, in my house? In my bedroom?” He made the cool, spacious room seem smaller
and hotter. Even the subtle male scent of him was an intrusion—leather and some
pheromone-laced cologne. Few men had been in this house during the past year.
Her friend Tia thought she should get out more. Get laid. But who the hell
needed a man?

“I was looking for a
clue or evidence. Jared had a lot of antiquities lying around. Maybe some so
rare and valuable someone would be willing to kill for them. I already searched
his apartment and didn’t find anything. I thought he might have hidden
something here. Or maybe you got something in the divorce that was more
valuable than anyone realized.”

She shook her head. “I
didn’t get any of his antiquities. He put most of them in storage or safe
deposit boxes while we were still married. He always had a safe too.”

“The safe in his
apartment was cleaned out,” Nick said. “Does this house have any concealed
nooks or secret passages where Jared might have hidden something?”

“No. There’s a safe,
but it contains nothing but my important papers.”

“Damn,” Nick
muttered. As if lost in deep thought for a moment, he scratched the short
stubble on his square jaw. She wondered what it would feel like brushing
against her sensitive skin. A prickle of excitement raced through her.

Abruptly, his
attention shifted back to her, his gaze dropping briefly to her cleavage. She
tugged the robe tighter over her breasts. Her tingling nipples were beaded so
hard, she couldn’t hide them beneath the thin material. Was he remembering what
she’d looked like naked?

He turned toward the
door. “Well, I’ll get going.”

“Wait. You think you
can simply break into my house anytime you want? You didn’t say how you got in,
or why you didn’t ask my permission first.”

He gave a slight grin
which was far too charming. Naturally, he’d try to wriggle out of this. “You
don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. You’re
supposed to be a cop. What're you doing breaking and entering?”

His jaw clenched hard
and his silver eyes turned piercing. “I
am
a police officer, and I
wasn’t
breaking and entering.”

“Really? What do you
call it, then?” Her heart-rate spiked with excitement at her own daring words.
Was she nuts to challenge him this way? She didn't think so; she truly wanted
to get to the bottom of why he was in her house uninvited.

“Look, I know I’m out
of my jurisdiction and bending the rules. My only brother was murdered. I have
to find out who did it and see them behind bars.”

“The end justifies
the means?”

His hardened cop look
intensified. “Exactly.”

“So, you picked my
lock. Or did you break a window? Why didn’t you drop by—and use the
doorbell—when I was home? I would’ve let you search.”

He shrugged, giving
her a dark and mysterious look. “I didn’t know if you would. I preferred that
you weren’t here, telling me where to look. I had to cover all the bases.”

Holy crap.
She hoped he hadn’t searched her
lingerie drawer. She kept things in there no one could ever know about.
Certainly not him. Not the man she hated herself for fantasizing about. Even
when she’d been married to his brother.

A blush seared her
entire body and he happened to be observing her with that expression in his
eyes—the one he’d had the first time they’d met at her and Jared’s engagement
party. What the hell was that look? It crackled with tension and electricity…a
communication. A connection. Almost as if he wanted to pounce on her, but he
always glanced away or walked off.

He wasn’t doing that
now. He practically pinned her to the spot.
Hunger.
That's what she saw
in his eyes.

“Well…” She was the
first to break eye contact. She didn’t mean to notice the fly of his jeans, but
she did in passing. Was that a protrusion? Did he have a hard-on?

Breathless excitement
raced through her. She focused on the wide boards of the hardwood floor and
tried to steady her breathing, her heart rate.

What the hell was
wrong with her? An intruder was in her bedroom and all she could think about
was what was in his jeans?

No guesswork there.
She’d accidentally caught sight of his hard cock one time. It was large, thick
and mouthwatering. No matter that one of her friends had been trying to swallow
it at the time. She’d observed it and his entire naked, muscle-sculpted body in
action. He made sex an art form. His hips thrusting powerfully, his cock
gliding smoothly. She had fantasized about that memory too many times to count.
Had put herself in her friend’s place. Former friend.

Now, Emily was wet
and tingly…and wearing no panties.

“If you’d like to wait
downstairs…” She barely got the words out and they sounded breathy.

“You got it.” He
slowly turned and headed out the door, his black motorcycle boots clunking on
the oak floor. His ass was damned sexy in those worn jeans. His too-long,
tawny-blond hair, broad shoulders and tattooed biceps stretching that black
T-shirt were equally appealing to her. Delectable bad boy.

Once he left, she
wanted to collapse. The tension that had filled the room in his presence
overwhelmed her. And she couldn't believe how turned on she was, just from
standing across the room from him.

Chapter Two

Nick paced across the
oriental carpet in Emily's living room. He couldn’t get the vivid image of her
nude body out of his head. Damned if she wasn’t luscious in every sense of the
word. He’d love to lick and nibble every inch of her pale smooth skin. Her
breasts were perfection, not too small, not too large. Perky with hard,
suckable nipples.

A moan escaped, but
he cleared his throat to cover it, glancing toward the stairs. She was still
dressing, no doubt.

The memory of that
sweet little patch of short, light brown hair and the slit peeping through
tormented him. He wanted to spread her legs, then her pussy lips. He yearned to
tongue her clit, making it swollen and wet, and then suck it until she screamed.
Fuck, how he craved a taste of her. His jeans constricted his granite-hard cock,
and he adjusted his fly.

Despite knowing he
shouldn’t, he’d lusted for her from the first moment he’d seen her. Considering
she was his brother’s soon-to-be-bride at the time, that probably made him an
asshole and a bastard. But what could he do about it, except not look at her
and try to stay far away?

Three years ago, the
first time her eyes had met his, a shock had zapped through him. Those first
few minutes after their introduction were rife with chemistry, at least for
him. He thought she’d sensed it too. She’d had an expression, almost like a
startled hunger, a recognition, a flare of unexpected and stunned attraction.

When he’d kissed her
cheek in greeting and smelled her sweet lavender-vanilla scent, his erection
had sprung to life. He didn’t know what the hell was going on with his damned
reaction to her, nor could he control it. He’d tried to avoid her.

When a bridesmaid
who’d had a couple glasses of champagne had come on to Nick, he’d gone for it.
Cassie had taken him upstairs to an empty hotel suite—at least he’d thought it
was empty. But he recalled with vivid clarity every moment of that night and
how aroused he’d been.

Closing his eyes, he
let the memories flood through him.

Maybe he was an
ass for fantasizing about Emily while he ripped Cassie’s clothes off, but he
couldn’t help himself. His cock had a mind of its own.

While Cassie was
giving him a blow-job, Nick noticed movement from the corner of his eye in the
darkened bedroom area of the suite. Someone in a long white gown moved behind
an open closet door. It had to be Emily. Was she watching? Powerful arousal
burned through him.

He was going to
explode in a matter of seconds. He urged Cassie up and headed her toward the
couch. He wanted to be inside her now. Hell, why not be honest? He wanted to be
inside Emily right now, but that was impossible. So Cassie would have to do…while
Emily observed.

Would this disgust
her, or turn her on? For some reason, he knew it would turn her on. He hoped
she was staring at his cock as he rolled the condom on, and he hoped she liked
what she saw. When he drove into Cassie’s pussy, he imagined it was Emily’s.
Her dark pubic hair was trimmed into a neat little triangle.

Beneath lowered
lids, he covertly glanced at the closet again. He sensed Emily’s gaze on him
and it made him so horny his balls ached. Spreading her legs wide, he drove
into Cassie again and again, pounding her fast. She cried out, writhed and
begged for more. He wanted Emily to witness every moment of the action.

And though it made
him a bastard, he wanted her to fantasize about him. Why? He didn’t know. She
awoke his inner animal, a rutting beast that wanted to do nothing but fuck her fast,
hard and furiously.

But the connection
felt like more than a simple physical attraction. That first spark had happened
when he’d looked into her eyes. Something challenging and ever fascinating
awaited there. Something unreachable, untouchable. Something he’d never have.
She was his brother’s wife and he would never touch her aside from the innocent
pecks on the cheek.

Still, the thought
of her watching him come revved up his arousal. The orgasm raced through him
from his toes to the top of his head, pure hedonism and driving force, urging
him to grind into her deep. Imagining at that final moment that Emily squeezed
his cock as they came together.

He muttered a
string of nonsensical words, then bit his tongue before he mistakenly said
Emily’s name. That might be all it would take to ruin his brother’s marriage
before it had begun.

After he finished,
he ached to send Cassie away, go over to the closet and see how fiery Emily’s
blush was. If he did that, what would she do? Would she run out, shocked and mortified?
Or would she ask for her turn?

His cock hardened
again moments later, tingling and eager for more. He knew he was nothing but a
horn dog, but he couldn’t control his own arousal. Putting the formal clothes
on again, he tried to ignore the woman behind the closet door as he left the
room with Cassie.

All the way back
to the reception, he wanted to rush back to that room and see if Emily was
still there. Was she undressing and revealing all those silky curves?