Instant Temptation

CHAPTER 10

Harley clutched TJ’s sleeping bag to her body and strained her ears, but she could hear nothing. Well, nothing except the light wind, the occasional cry of a bird, and…crunching pine needles beneath someone’s feet. “TJ?” she whispered, thinking oh please let it be TJ.

“Just me.” He came out of the woods in nothing but those still unbuttoned, low-slung Levi’s, hair a little wild-from her fingers, she realized with a bit of a shock-eyes cool and calm as they took in their surroundings. “I thought I heard someone, but I didn’t see anything.” He appeared to be at ease, but on second look, she could see that was an illusion, because in truth he was battle ready.

And she? She wanted to lick him from sternum to belly button and beyond, thank you very much. She realized she had other issues to be concerned with, but holy smokes.

Standing there by moonlight, he was all raw, sexual, barely contained power, and she felt a little ping in the region of her gut, another in her heart, and a third in a place where no one had given her a ping in a long time.

Including Nolan.

TJ dropped more wood on the simmering fire, then crouched at her side, all powerfully toned and tanned. He reached out and put a finger under her chin to close her mouth, which had been hanging open. “You’re giving me ideas,” he said very softly.

She slammed her mouth and her eyes shut.

“Are you warm enough now?” he asked, sounding amused.

Sure. If sweating in unusual places counted. She nodded jerkily and felt him rise. She opened her eyes and saw him go for her sleeping bag.

Wait a minute. “You’re…going to sleep over there?” she asked.

He stopped and met her gaze across the fire. “Your choice.”

She opened her mouth to say he should absolutely stay waaaay over there, maybe even move to the next ridge, but all that came out of her was expelled air.

He came back, once again hunkering at her side. His movements were slow, easy, and entirely uninhibited.

And God help her, she wanted to be uninhibited, too. He cradled her face in one of his hands, ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “I’m going to need more of a sign, Harley.”

Dammit. Couldn’t he just be a he-man and take the choice away from her? She realized that the thought set women back a few hundred years, but she didn’t know if she could verbalize the truth.

And that truth was that she wanted him against her. In her.

He pulled back his hand, but he remained crouched at her side, patient and calm. And with the firelight flickering over his bare chest and shoulders, unintentionally sensual as hell.

She felt fluttery and trembly. Being with him always made her fluttery, but the trembling thing was new.

This was more than a crush. Which meant that she was in way over her head. She knew this. But did she put up the white flag? Did she call the cavalry? Did she run like hell?

No.

Even knowing that despite trying to keep her distance, he’d gotten hold of her heart, even knowing that she couldn’t entirely trust him to be careful with it, she lifted the edge of the sleeping bag in a clear invite. “For warmth only.”

His lips curled into just a hint of a smile as he slid in. He leaned over her and kissed her softly, just a warm, gentle press of his lips that registered shockingly high on the intensity scale for having no tongue involved.

She shivered and found herself clinging to him. Good. Great way of keeping her cool.

He met her gaze, then closed his eyes and flipped her away from him. She had no idea if the emotion that rushed through her was relief or disappointment.

“For warmth,” he said in her ear, pulling her back against his chest, spooning her. Her back was immediately infused with warm, sexy male, and she had to bite her lip to hold her moan in. One of his arms rested loosely on her hip, the other crooked up and behind his head, his elbow her pillow.

In spite of herself, she felt a shiver of sheer lust race through her and she squirmed.

“What was that?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, you wriggled your ass against my-”

“I did not!” But she did it again, a completely involuntary movement that she couldn’t control.

“Harley.” He sounded a little rough. “You’ve got to stop moving, or-”

“You’re too close!” Stop moving or what? a very bad part of her wanted to know.

“Keep rocking your hips and I’ll show you just how close I can get.”

She inhaled and went as still, caught between wanting him to follow through on that threat and wanting to run screaming into the night.

After a long silence, during which time she held herself so rigid she couldn’t even breathe, he sighed. “Relax. You know I’m not going to jump you.”

Yeah, that wasn’t what she was worried about. She was worried she’d jump him.

“Go to sleep,” he commanded softly in her ear.

Uh huh, like that was going to be possible with his delicious warmth and sexy bod cradling hers! She wasn’t the only one affected if the rigid length poking her butt was any indication. “TJ, you’re-”

“Ignore it. I’m trying to.”

She snorted, and the hand lightly gripping her hip tightened. “You’re laughing at me.”

“A little. It’s just that you’re usually the one so in control.”

“And you are?” he countered. “In control? Unmoved by the proximity?”

“Completely.” She went still, waiting to be struck by lightning for the lie.

“Really.” His fingers skimmed her belly; slowly, achingly slowly, stroking up and down, not quite reaching her bra or the edging of her panties, but coming close enough that she was breathing again. Or more correctly, panting.

Her nipples were hard. Between her thighs, she was damp.

“You’re completely unmoved,” he repeated.

She bit her tongue rather than lie.

“It’s easy enough to check,” he said in a raspy, sexy voice, his fingers just barely slipping beneath her panties, heading south.

With a squeak, she caught his wrist. “Okay, I’m not unmoved!” She threw his hand off her. “But it’s not you. It’s that I’ve not-it’s been a long time.”

“How long?”

“Long.”

At that, the bastard chuckled.

She rolled her eyes, not that he could see her. “Go to sleep!”

“I’ll try, but if you crawl all over me again, all bets are off.”

“I won’t crawl all over you!” She hoped. She lay there for a long time.

“Harley?” His voice was husky low, as if he’d nearly drifted off.

“Yeah?”

“You think about me?”

“All the time,” she murmured without missing a beat.

All the time? She wrestled with second thoughts over that little tidbit for a few minutes until he pressed his hot mouth against the nape of her neck. “Brad?” she murmured. “Brad Pitt, is that you?”

He gave a soft laugh. “I could make you pay for that.”

Who was he kidding, she’d willingly pay for that.

“Why are you still awake?” he asked.

“Why are you?” she countered.

When he spoke, his voice was soft. “I keep going over it in my head.”

“I’m not going to admit I’m not unmoved again, TJ,” she quipped, pretending to misunderstand him, trying to keep it light. And talking about what had happened that long ago night at Long Lake wouldn’t be light. Not for her. “That was a onetime confession. A gift.”

“Not that.” He wasn’t playing. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so damn sorry for that night. If I could take it back, if I could grovel for forgiveness…” He paused, and she heard him swallow hard. “I can’t get it out of my head, what it must have been like for you. Your first time. With a drunken idiot.” He hugged her in a little closer, pressing his face into her hair. “In a fucking open truck bed.” His voice was hoarse and filled with self-loathing. “With others all around us. Christ, I was such an ass back then.”

“Back then?” she teased.

He said nothing to that. Okaaaaay, he was clearly not ready to find it amusing, and he was beating himself up to boot. Deep down, she could admit that’s what she’d wanted from him for years.

Hurray. Mission accomplished.

Except…She rolled to her back to see into his face. Looking up at him, into his pained expression, she didn’t suddenly want him to pay at all.

The fire was nothing more than a flicker, and she’d always loved looking at people by the firelight. Somehow it was so revealing, and let her see right through to the heart and soul of a person.

As she was seeing TJ.

Did she want to see through him, right to his heart and soul? It was a deep question, a difficult question, but the simple answer was yes.

His eyes were two dark pools, but his concern and regret rolled over her in waves. His legendary cool was gone. In another time and place, it’d be fascinating. “I told you that you didn’t hurt me,” she said quietly, watching a grimace twist his mouth at her words. “I meant it, TJ.”

He said nothing to that, and she tried nudging him, a smile on her face. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing more about the possible groveling.”

He still wasn’t playing and couldn’t be distracted. “Your first time,” he repeated so softly she barely heard him.

Her eyes drifted shut as she let memories wash over her. Between the wild crush she’d had on him and the time he’d spent stroking her body into a quivery boneless mass of bliss, the pain of his first penetration truly had been shockingly minimal.

In fact, if truth be told, the reality of that night had haunted her through her following sexual experiences. None of them had come close to measuring up.

Which of course, at the time, had only upped her resentment factor.

“If I didn’t hurt you,” he murmured, stroking his hand up her arm to cup her face, “why have you hated me all this time?”

Oh yeah.

That.

She was already sorry she’d turned to face him, and considered switching back around, but his hand went to her hip and held her still as he waited with that bottomless patience she knew he’d earned the hard way.

“I told you, it was fine. I was fine. You were fine, we were all fine. Can you let it go now?”

“Fine,” he repeated, forcing the word out like she’d just insulted his manhood.

“Yes. Fine.” Yet another big fat lie. Which settled it. She was going straight to hell in a handbasket.

Because the truth was, it had been amazing.

So.

Damn.

Amazing.

Not that she intended to share that little tidbit, no sirree. That confession just might kill her. “As for why I was mad,” she went on, knowing he needed to know to move on, “I guess it’s that I got to remember it all this time and you didn’t. I know it’s silly and juvenile, but there it is. So can we stop talking about it now? Or yesterday. Yesterday would be even better.”

He was quiet a moment, and she let out a breath. Good. They were moving on. She began to relax.

“I was out of control,” he said after a few minutes. “And we both know it. I slept with half the population of Wishful and I barely remember a fraction of it.” He sighed, sounding disgusted with himself. “I’ve always said that the past is the past, and it’s never bothered me much-until now.”

She tipped her head up and met his gaze, his filled with regret and a softness that made her heart catch as he touched her face, running a finger over her temple. “I really hate that I don’t remember that night, Harley.”

“I know.” And she did. But it was finally, somehow, okay for her. Besides, she remembered enough for both of them. “Close your eyes, TJ. Go to sleep.”

He closed his eyes, his lashes dark and thick. “In the back of a fucking truck,” he muttered to himself.

She closed her eyes, too, because looking at him made her want to do something stupid, like soothe him, which would be a bit like trying to soothe a wild mountain lion.

“Where it was,” he went on, “apparently, fine.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him speculatively. “Is all this self-flagellation because I used the word fine?”

His wincing expression said she’d hit a bingo, and she had to laugh. “I’m going to sleep now, TJ.”

With that, she turned back over and was very careful not to wiggle. She tried to stay on her side of the sleeping bag, but he put a hand flat to her belly-oh, God-and tugged her back to him.

“For warmth,” he murmured.

Right.

For warmth.

His fingers danced lightly over her skin, and her heart kicked into gear, leaping against her ribs. She couldn’t help it, and she certainly couldn’t control it. His hand was big and warm, his palm was callused, and it felt good.

Too good.

It took her another heartbeat to decide not to fight him, especially since it was warmer all spooned up against him, even if she was incredibly, shockingly, erotically aware of his hand spread wide on her abs, his thumb only a fraction of an inch from the curves of a breast, his pinkie finger actually touching the edging of her panties. She hoped to God that he couldn’t feel her heart reverberating off her ribs and against him.

Exhaustion finally took over, but just as she drifted off, she’d have sworn she heard him mutter “fine” again, like he would an oath, and she smiled as she fell asleep.