Page 64 of Falling For Temptation

“I want to take you somewhere today.” He’s got that sexy, scratchy morning voice that sends jolts down into my belly.

“It’d better not be somewhere high up,” I respond. My voice is always a little raspy in the morning.

I’m suddenly aware that down near my upper thigh, there’s a hard, very male shape, and my eyes go wide. His cheeks turn the color of my favorite harlot lipstick. He tries to pull back, but I reach a hand under the covers to wrap around his torso and pull myself closer. His body tenses, eyes dark, breathing a fraction above the normal range. His lips are just open enough to fit my tongue through, but I resist. He tries again to pull away, and this time, I let him, so I can crawl on top of him, our bodies flush together in all the right places.

His neck is corded, straining as he struggles with where to put his hands. Mine are braced on either side of his head, knees pressed into the mattress near his hips. I lean in, my mouth releasing a breath into his ear, the long shape growing.

“What should I wear?” I rasp.

He doesn’t respond for at least thirty seconds. I would check his pulse, but that’s highly unnecessary.

“Maybe, uh, something that’s…uh, you look good in red,” he finally chokes out. His hands that were on the mattress have finally begun to drift onto my backside, over the blanket.

“Hmm, what are you going to wear?” I ask, nibbling at his ear.

“I didn’t know the guy was supposed to wear anything,” he replies, voice wheezing a bit.

I lean back, finding a comfortable place where we fit. He’s winded, like a marathon runner near the finish line.

“I meant, to wherever we’re going today.” I quirk a brow at him.

He grabs my hips, hard, twisting us around in the blankets, pushing me onto my back. “I know exactly what you meant, buttercup,” he whispers, his teeth grazing over my neck for a brief moment before he lifts off, strutting toward the bathroom.

I notice the front of his athletic shorts is stretched out.

I lie breathless for a moment before muffling a laugh with the pillow.

I feel the top bunk shifting, and a mass of blonde curls starts to crawl down the ladder on the side. She lies beside me, eyes closed.

“Are y’all back together?” she mumbles sleepily.

I roll onto my back, staring up at the slats holding the twin mattress up.

“I hope so.” I pause, biting into my lip. “I was pretty awful to him when we…cut things off,” I admit, thinking of my angry screaming in the storm behind Billy’s Pub.

She doesn’t hesitate. “He’ll forgive you, Har, but you have to forgive yourself too. You deserve a good one. I hope you know that.”

I gulp at my friend’s words. Do I?

The good guy in question walks out of the bathroom, going to the dresser and selecting fresh clothes.

“Either of you want to jump in the shower before I do?” he asks.

“Harley could just jump in with you to save the hot water for the rest of us,” Kenna blurts without hesitation, the smile in her voice evident.

His wide shoulders tense.

I laugh, laying my head on her shoulder.

“She’s kidding,” I breathe out through the giggles.

He turns to us, strategically placing his bundle of folded clothes in front of himself. “Maybe you should, Harley, to preserve the…hot water,” he challenges.

Our chuckles halt, and I sit up in bed. “All right, Farm Boy, you’re on.”

We don’t back down. The shirt challenge set the stakes.

I hop out of bed and walk toward the bathroom. Pulling open the door, I wait for him to follow. He does, slowly clicking it shut. I’m struck with a sense of déjà vu. He reaches over me, our eyes tied together as he locks the opposite door into Silas and Levi’s room.

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