Temptation in Texas: A Christmas Special (2 page)

The man was as big as Logan himself, and he stared
right back at him, no doubt understanding that he was facing a man
who was as mad as a junkyard dog. “Christ, buddy, calm down.” With
that being said, keeping one eye on Logan, the guy picked up a tape
measure off the floor and hooked it back onto his work belt.
Glancing at Lauren, he said, “Look, lady, like I said before, the
job’s going to be difficult enough to begin with, but with him,” he
jerked his head toward Logan, “yeah, I don’t need the business that
bad.”

With that, the man sidestepped Logan as he walked
around him, obviously wanting no confrontation, which was a damn
good thing, and then continued on, climbing down the stairs. A few
seconds later, Logan heard the front door slam and an engine
start.

With the worker gone, Logan turned back to Lauren,
who was avoiding eye contact with him as she wiped the dust from
her hands onto the back of her blue jean shorts. Shorts, for god’s
sake . . . which she’d probably put on that morning, not giving a
single thought to the strange man she was about to let enter the
house. This just kept getting worse and worse; he felt his
temperature kick up another notch as disbelief at her actions held
him in its grip.

It didn’t once occur to him that she’d cheat on him,
or even flirt with another man; he believed in her fidelity that
much. But Jesus Christ, did she have to have such a trusting
nature? Would she never learn? Did she think the world was one
huge, safe playground? Somewhere in the furthest recesses of his
mind, the knowledge that he wasn’t giving her enough credit entered
his head; his wife was incredibly brilliant and capable but he
refused to allow the thought to soothe him. He was
pissed,
probably more pissed than he’d ever been in his life, and the
reason he was so pissed was because she had scared him
half-to-fucking-death, and that was the only thing he could
concentrate on at the moment.

While he held himself still, trying to breathe
evenly, trying like fuck to get his raging emotions under control,
he ran his gaze over her, up and down, just to make sure she was
all in one piece.

Her tongue shot out to lick her lips and despite his
anger, he felt a bolt of white-hot sexual lightning pierce his
guts. He could clearly see that she knew he was angry; her lips
quivered before she spoke. “Hi, babe . . . you’re home early.”

Ahhh
…so his little wife was feeling a bit
apprehensive at this point and well she should be. His lips
flattened as he took a single step toward her. “Sure am. What ‘ya
doing, hon?” he spoke the words way too innocuously, allowing his
tone to ring with sarcasm.

“N-nothing.”

He took another two steps forward and she quickly
stepped back, bumping the back of her head on the slanted beam
behind her. He winced for her and came to a halt; no matter how
pissed he was, he didn’t want her to hurt herself. “It didn’t look
like ‘nothing’, babe,” he replied slowly.

“No, it’s just the . . . just the—” her words trailed
off as she motioned behind her toward where she’d been on the floor
only moments ago.

Logan didn’t take his eyes from her to see what she
might be indicating. “Just the what?”

She shook her head, as if she had no idea what to
say.

He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Lauren. Come
here.”

She glanced away before looking back at him. “No, I’m
good.”

At her denial, he felt his insides electrify with
aggression, but he attempted to keep a cool head, even as the
heated blood roaring through his veins reminded him he was on a
short leash. “Come here, baby.”

She licked her lips. “Are you mad?”

He took another slow, deep breath.
Fuck, yeah, he
was mad
. “Why would I be mad?” he asked a little too
sarcastically as he placed his hands on the rafter above his head,
feeling his biceps bulge against the short-sleeve t-shirt he’d
thrown on for the drive home.

“Because . . . .” she stopped speaking and swallowed,
staring at him with wide eyes.

He could see she was thinking frantically, he’d give
her that. She knew him too damn well not to be able to figure it
out. “That’s it, sweetheart, keep going, keep talking and it’ll
come to you in a minute.”

At his fully condescending and smart-ass remark, her
eyes suddenly sharpened and any slight alarm she might have felt,
very obviously disappeared. “Don’t speak to me like I’m a
child.”

“
Then don’t act like a child,”
he barked back,
more pissed than he cared to think about.

“Are we about to have a fight?” she snapped.

His muscles tensed. “That’s a goddamn given, don’t
you think?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, hostility and
challenge in every line of her body. “You think you’re always right
about everything!”

“
That’s because I am always right about
everything!”
he roared.

“You are so
not,”
she bit back.

Logan took a moment to try to calm down, but it was
next to impossible. “What possible fucking explanation can you have
for a strange man being up here,
with you,
in the goddamn
attic, while I’m out of town?”

“You’re not out of town!” she shouted in
accusation.

He pulled his hands from the beam and took a step
forward. “Don’t give me that shit. You know what I mean. You
thought I’d be out of town for another day. Is something broken? Is
the fucking roof leaking? What? What could be so goddamn bad that
you couldn’t wait to call a repairman when I’m at home and can keep
you fucking safe?”

“Logan,” she began placatingly, which just set him
off again.

“There’s no excuse and you know it. You know what the
goddamn rules are. You’ve known me long enough to know what I
expect from you.
And I don’t expect you to purposely put
yourself in harm’s way, you understand me?”

“It’s not always about your rules, Logan. I’ve got a
brain in my head.”

Losing it, he reached out and snagged her wrist,
pulling her torso into his. “It’s
always
about my rules when
it comes to your goddamn safety, you understand me? It always has
been, since the day we met. You
knew
how it would be before
you signed on the dotted line, so don’t suddenly act like you
didn’t.”

****

Lauren’s chest slammed up against Logan’s stomach and
she took a deep, fortifying breath at the contact. Yeah, he was
right, she’d known how he was before she married him . . . and this
particular episode was
not
going to be good. When he found
out that she’d had not just one contractor up in the attic, but had
gotten three estimates, he was going to lose it triple time.
And
just for a Christmas gift.
She blew out a disgruntled breath.
This was it, after this, she was going to quit obsessing over the
perfect present for him. She could
not
win on that
front.

As her breasts pressed into his stomach and his hands
landed on her butt, she felt her nipples harden when she breathed
in his perfect scent and realized it had been four days since she’d
seen him. His anger only made the chemistry that was always between
them sizzle to an even higher degree.

“
Shorts?”
he hissed out, as she felt the
callused fingers of one hand slide up the back of her thigh, inside
the hem of the denim material and touch her butt cheek.

She sucked in a breath at the contact with her naked
flesh. “What?”

“You’re wearing fucking shorts,” he accused between
gritted teeth, his pissed-off tone in disparity with the fingers
that caressed her skin.

“It’s hot outside . . . it’s hot up here . . . I
don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the humidity,” she mumbled,
feeling tongue-tied as arousal slid down her spine.

His mouth twisted angrily. “It’s November.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” It was still
autumn on the Texas coast, for Christ’s sake.

With one hand on her naked butt, he brought the other
around and lifted her chin until his eyes were on hers. “Could you
not, at least, have put on some damn clothes?”

She stiffened in his arms even as her torso swayed
toward his of its own volition. “What are you accusing me of,
exactly?”

“It really never occurs to you exactly how fucking
hot you are, does it? You look in a mirror lately, babe? Have you
noticed those legs?”

Her heart beat loudly in her ears. Her husband had
this crazy idea. Just because he thought she was all that, he
assumed every other man did, as well. “I know you like the way I
look, Logan,” she said softly, trying to calm him down.

“Every goddamn man who sees you likes the way you
look, get it?”

She exhaled on a sigh. “I didn’t wear them on
purpose.”

Though his expression was held in severe lines of
anger, his eyes suddenly held a glimmer of pardon. “I know that,
babe.” His hand ran from her chin and speared into her hair,
fisting it in a captive grip at her scalp. “If I didn’t believe
that, this conversation would be going in a very different
direction.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” she asked,
her body going rigid.

Retaliating to her question, his fingers speared
higher into her shorts, gripping her entire left buttock and
squeezing it in warning, just short of pain. His jaw tensed but he
remained silent, only staring at her with a darkening frown.

She attempted to wriggle out of his arms. “If that
was a threat of some kind, have the balls to say it directly.”

His steely strength seemed to multiply, his grasp
becoming stronger as he pushed his rigid length against her
stomach. “You think this is a good time to question my balls,
sweetheart?”

As she felt his erection pushing against her in
almost maddened restraint, Lauren opened her mouth and then snapped
it closed. Why was she fighting with him? He said crap to her all
the time, but that didn’t mean he’d ever carry through with his
veiled threats. He’d certainly never hurt her, physically or
emotionally. She felt completely safe with him; she
was
completely safe with him. She was as sure of that as she was that
he loved her to distraction. She knew what this was all about; he’d
been seriously scared for her safety and when Logan became worried
about her, he also became pissed at whatever had worried him in the
first place. Did he go a little ape-shit crazy sometimes? Yeah, he
did. But he was right; she’d known exactly who and what she was
marrying: Logan Crenshaw, twenty-first century Neanderthal man.

Could he act like a douche sometimes when he didn’t
get his exact way? Yeah, he could. But she loved her douche-bag to
distraction . . . if only he wasn’t about to rage and yell and get
all worked up over nothing.

She sighed and blew out a breath. Best just to get it
over with in one fell swoop. If anything, she’d learned how to
handle him after all these years together. She always told it like
it was, and when he didn’t like something and his primal instincts
came roaring to life, she let him blow off steam by dominating her
in the bedroom. It was the only thing that seemed to calm the fires
raging in his system, and as a consolation to her, she loved him
doing it.

She had to admit, she’d been tempted to piss him off
a time or two just for his reaction, but she never did. She didn’t
want to upset him needlessly and besides, according to him, she
screwed up enough without any playacting on her part. Now, as he
held her in a grip that shouted his supreme right to make her tow
his line, hot anticipation licked down her spine when she realized
exactly what kind of sex they were about to have. The basic caveman
variety. Hot. Dirty. Animalistic. Tingles ran down to her toes as
she tried to look apologetic, when truth be told, the only thing
she was sorry about was that the surprise of his Christmas present
would be blown. “Babe, look, I do have a confession to make.”

She felt him stiffen immediately and her pulse rate
increased in reaction.

“
Tell me.”

She took a glance around at the basic plywood
flooring and sheets of insulation covering the area, knowing damn
good and well how his anger would manifest itself. She saw
absolutely nowhere up here that would be conducive to naked skin
and hot sex with an enraged Logan. “Can we go downstairs
first?”

“Why?” he asked succinctly.

She held his eyes and bit her lip. “Because the attic
is hot, and you’re going to get
really
mad at me, and then
you’re going to rip all my clothes off, and it’s not even carpeted
up here—” She was still talking as a look came over his face.
Without even a second to take a breath, he swung her up into his
arms, crossed the attic and set her down next to the stairwell. He
began to climb down with rapid, jerky movements that betrayed both
his arousal and his anger, and then he held his hands braced on the
sides of the ladder and motioned for her to follow. “Be
careful.”

She turned around, came down the steps backwards,
carefully, as he’d ordered, and when she was down, he stood behind
her, his hands braced on the ladder, caging her in. One hand
dropped to the vee between her legs and he squeezed, at the same
time propelling her backwards until her back pressed tightly into
his chest. His mouth came down to her ear while he massaged her
clit through her clothing, and her breathing fractured as stars
began exploding in her head. Pushing his hand inside her shorts and
panties, he slid a finger inside her, her damp heat easing his way.
She felt the vibrations of his low growl against her ear as he bit
her lobe, and when she adjusted her stance slightly, he slid that
big, blunt finger all the way up and inside of her. She closed her
eyes as he began biting her lobe and manipulating her, his touch
causing the last shreds of sanity to escape her.