Page 35 of Hot and Bothered

He didn’t answer. He just stared in a way that made her feel hot and desired.

Ravenous.

“We’re practically related,” she went on, striving for her most reasonable tone. Someone had to keep their head here. “We’re always going to be in each other’s lives and to think it would be difficult between us…or cause problems for everyone else…that’s just not worth it.”

Well handled,Good Girl Jules said.

Note we didn’t dismiss it out of hand,Bad Girl Jules responded dryly.

A very focused look knotted his face and a vein at his temple jumped, but when he spoke, the contrast astonished her. Deep, low, calm. “I thought we could be adults about it. We scratch an itch and then move on.”

“Scratch an itch? I’ve got an itch”—not that her itch was a Tad itch, but more a general itch than any guy could attend to—“but what’s your excuse? You could have anyone. Surely, you haven’t run through all the Hot Taddies?”

Ruh-roh.A black curtain descended over his face and that twitch at his temple went nuts. He opened his mouth. Closed it.

“Forget it,” he ground out. “It was a stupid idea.”

He skirted her, careful not to touch her, and headed for the door.

Nah-ah.He was not walking out just because he didn’t like the direction of the conversation.

“Tad DeLuca, stop right there.”

He halted but didn’t turn. His broad back muscles rippled in anger.

“You know what I’m saying. You have your pick of the crop so the only conclusion I can draw here is that you see me as some object of pity. You’re not attracted to me. That much I know, so—”

A chink of light creaked open in her brain.

“The photograph? You saw how well I scrubbed up in that photograph and now you want to tap some of what you haven’t had? That was just a Lili-crafted illusion. This is it.” She carved a shaky hand through the air in front of her baby-ravaged body, feeling suddenly more vulnerable than she had ever felt in his presence. “Half the time, I have cornflakes in my hair and my clothes are stained and I barely have time to shower.”

He turned slowly, deliberately. Statues had nothing on him. His deep blue eyes blazed his annoyance.

“You think I’m that shallow, that I’m only here because you looked good with some make-up on? Jesus, Jules, I thought you knew me better than that.”

Oh, but wasn’t that the problem? She knew him far too well.

“Tad, I know what kind of women you like and we both know I’m not it.”

Hurt flashed across his face. Probably just an ego hit, but what if it wasn’t? What if she had truly wounded him? Mouth working furiously, he wrenched open the door.

“Got it,” he bit out as he slammed the door behind him.

That went well. She hadn’t meant to insult him but really, his offer was a sandwich short of a picnic. Tad as her lover? It beggared belief. Fantasizing about it was one thing but to have it suddenly presented as a possibility was just crazy cakes.

Wasn’t it?

A faint tap on the door pulled her out of her guilt trip. She opened up to find him standing like a raging bull, still scowling.

“Tad, I’m sorry—”

His mouth covered hers, crushing the words and forcing the apology back down her throat. The sweet, chocolate-y taste hit her at the same time as her lips fell apart, the loss of control inevitable. Her muscles quickly followed suit.

Tad was kissing her. This shouldn’t feel so good but the possessive claiming thrilled through her, confirming this man’s mouth could work miracles. She clutched at his shoulders, molding her body flush to his in recognition that she may never get this chance again. His arms encircled her, one hand tight against her back, the other cupping her arse professionally. The hard ridge of his erection pulsed against her belly.

Their tongues mated, tangled, delighted in the dance. His musky body scent, the taste of cocoa andhim, all combined to send her reeling in a downward spiral of pleasure. It was a movie kiss, the one in the rain, the reunion in the desert. That first, humiliating fumble all those months ago, was finally erased by this most perfect melding of mouths.

He pulled back, breathless, before she could get busy with her hands. A helpless little sound, part lust, part disappointment, emerged involuntarily from her throat. She wasn’t proud of it.

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