by Aimee Carson
“Would have had a cow,” Memphis said dryly.
Despite everything, she smiled at her old expression from childhood. “They would have had a whole herd.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I don’t think they could have handled learning you were human at the same time their only son was seriously injured.”
“My parents are well aware that I’m human.”
“Are they?” he said, narrowing his eyes in doubt. The reservation on his face was real. “Sometimes I’m not so sure.” He crossed his arms on the table. “You didn’t struggle with their expectations like Brian did; being a royal Anderson came easy to you. But he hated the pressure your parents placed on him to conform.” He sent her a look that eased a bit of the tension in her belly. “When we first met, he was looking to push the boundaries and I was an out-of-control kid looking for trouble.”
“The dynamic duo was a pretty lethal combination.” Despite her tension, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Most of the time I didn’t know who infuriated me more. Brian,” she said. “Or you.”
“Which was always half the fun of any stunt we pulled.” He leaned back in his seat, his eyes amused. “Did Brian ever tell you we used to take bets as to which expression would come out of your mouth when you’d hunt us down?”
“No,” she said, leaning forward curiously. “He never said a word.”
A sound of amusement escaped his lips. “You Andersons are way too secretive.”
She ignored his statement. “So what were the reprimanding phrases I used again?”
“‘Dad’s ready to blow his top, Brian,’” he said, and Kate had to laugh at his lousy job at imitating her voice. “Or the old standby that was usually directed at me, ‘How could you be so stupid?’ But my personal favorite involved your warning there was an imminent bovine delivery at the Anderson house.” The grin on his face grew bigger. “You know,” he said, his smile grew wistful. “My family was dirt-poor, but those years were the happiest times of my life.”
The confession surprised her. “Better than now?”
“In some ways.” His smile turned cynical. “But certainly not all.”
“What do you miss the most?”
He looked out over the city, the words soft. “I miss the days of planning stunts with Brian.”
Her fingers stilled on her glass, and she waited for Memphis to go on. He squinted, as if to block the bright sunshine limiting his view of the city. She sensed the weight of his guilt about the accident, blaming himself.
Well, Kate. That might have something to do with the fact that you told him he was to blame.
She gripped her iced tea, remembering more of her awful, painful words the day she’d pushed Memphis out of the hospital waiting room, scared her parents would exit Brian’s room and find him there. Scared of the turbulent scene that would surely follow. Her parents were distraught, livid and they would have certainly taken the emotions out on Memphis.
Memphis clearly didn’t want to discuss her old accusation, but she had to try again. “It’s not your fault,” she said.
This time his scoff was infused with denial. “Brian chose your family’s building for the jump because he knew it would piss your parents off the most. But I chose the day with the unfavorable wind conditions.”
She reached out to touch his arm. “Memphis,” she said. “We really need to talk—”
The words died when he removed his arm from her hand and pulled out his wallet, tossing a large bill on the table. The amount more than covered their two drinks and a generous tip.
“I’ve got to go, Kate,” he said as he reached down and slid both arms into his backpack. It was then she noticed a smaller bag attached with a cord.
This was no ordinary backpack.
“Memphis,” she said. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and the warning that had been buzzing in the back of her brain since he’d first asked to meet her here, of all places, grew louder. “What are you doing?”
He stood, backpack now securely strapped to his back, the smaller bag in his hand. And the grin he sent her was full of mischief. One she knew far too well.
“Taking the fastest way down,” he said.
A low strangled sound escaped her lips. “Memphis James,” she said. She shot to her feet and followed him as he started to jog toward the railing, her voice growing louder, increasing her pace even as her throat closed over, squeezing her heart. “Don’t you dare—”
Without pause, or fear or any sign of a second thought, Memphis nimbly vaulted over the rail.
Kate gasped and reached the rail just as the bartender let out a shout, and several of the patrons rushed to join Kate. There was a one-second pause of shocked silence, until Memphis’s falling form threw up the smaller pack, a tiny parachute opening, pulling out a bigger one which caught the air with a whoosh, abruptly slowing Memphis’s descent. Loud whoops of cheers and relieved laughter came from the guests. The smattering of applause and whistles were clearly ones of approval, and Kate bit back the frown, hoping Memphis couldn’t hear.
As if the infuriating man needed any encouragement.
Kate gripped the rail, her whole body throbbing from the adrenaline as she watched him glide gracefully through the air toward the empty lot far below. She didn’t breathe again until he landed and she was sure he wasn’t dead.
Which was great, because now she was going to hunt him down and throttle him herself.
CHAPTER TEN
IT TOOK Kate longer to show up at his apartment than Memphis had expected. After enjoying the peaceful sound of rushing air, he’d landed, quickly gathered his chute and hopped into his car parked by the empty lot—making a fast getaway before the cops arrived. And it was a full twenty minutes after he entered his apartment before he heard the inevitable pounding on his door, and his lips twisted wryly.
He opened the door to the beautiful sight of Kate’s face, flushed with fury, her delicious body elegantly attired in the light pink sundress that probably cost more than his father had made in a month.
“Memphis Nathanial James,” she bit out, hands on her hips. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, you won’t need to continue to court death for a living, because I will kill you myself.”
“Hmm,” he said, his lips quirking as he stepped back and held the door open. “Though I miss the birthing a cow reference, I like the sassier new reprimand.”
She brushed past him, leaving a trail of lavender-scented air. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
He closed the door. “That’s hardly appropriate language for a representative’s spouse.”
“I am not a representative’s spouse anymore.”
“I don’t think Senator Anderson and his wife would approve of you cussing, either.”
She came to a stop in his living room and whirled to face him. “Memphis,” she said. For a moment she looked as if she would stamp her foot in frustration. “I don’t care if my parents approve or not.”
His mouth twisted at the irony. “Well, there’s a first,” he said, the sarcasm oozing out before he could stop it.
There was a two-second pause before she said, “Why do you insist on antagonizing them?”
For a moment, the question stumped him. “What are you talking about?”
“You know my parents will hear about the jump. You know they’ll figure out it was you.” She stepped closer, her blue eyes snapping. But her expression was more about a woman trying to figure out a puzzle, and growing exasperated that she couldn’t. “Why do you go out of your way to make things difficult?”
A tiny seed of anger formed in his chest. “This might be a bit of a stretch for you to understand, but my decisions are based on my needs, not those of the almighty Anderson family. And if they don’t approve, then that’s too bad.”
“I just spent brunch trying to explain to my parents how nice you were to accompany me to the reunion.”
“Why would you bother?” he said. He cocked his
head, holding her gaze. “And I thought you said my name didn’t come up.”
She blinked twice before responding. “I … I lied.”
“You do that a lot.”
For a moment, Kate looked at a loss for words, and Memphis decided to help her out.
Not that she would appreciate his efforts.
“So who brought up the subject of Memphis James? You?” he said, knowing the question was absurd. “Or your parents?”
She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Tabitha told my mother you came with me to the party.”
Damn, he hated being right. He digested the news, wondering how the cool little princess had managed the conversation with her parents. No doubt with finesse and grace, like always.
He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway. “Did you tell them you were involved with me?”
She heaved out a breath. “Of course not,” she said.
The bark of laughter that broke from his throat was bitter, and Kate pressed her fingers to her temples, as if trying to keep her head from exploding.
After a silence-filled moment, she dropped her hand to her side. “Memphis,” she said, clearly struggling for patience. “My parents loved Dalton. They doted on him and were as active in his political campaign as anyone else. More so. The publicity from the divorce has been hard on them too. I’m just—” She stopped and inhaled slowly, as if she wanted to hold it together but was suddenly too weary from all the effort. “I’m just trying to keep things as calm as possible.”
He refused to release her gaze. “Because we both know you don’t like it when things get difficult.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open, as if on the verge of a dispute. But then both her lips and her lids closed. Whatever she’d been about to say, she wiped the anger from her face, choosing a different question. Finally, she opened her eyes, her voice resigned as she said softly, “What do you want from me?”
And the answer came roaring into his head.
Anything. Everything.
But that was one truth he would never utter out loud.
He slowly shook his head, feeling a little wiped out himself. “Nothing, Kate,” he said as he turned to face his living-room window, staring down at the Miami street below. Why had he come back to this town again? “Nothing at all.”
There was a long pause, and then Kate spoke from behind. “That’s not what you said at the restaurant.”
Desire stabbed him in the gut, the force so powerful it hurt to breathe.
“If I remember right,” she went on. “You said if you wanted to sleep with me every night between now and the reunion you would.”
“I remember what I said.”
“It’s been two nights now.”
Need coiled tightly in his gut. He didn’t respond, just stared down at the cars on the road and tried to ignore the woman who was driving him insane, his heart pounding out a crazy rhythm.
When he didn’t reply, she tried again, as if searching for what was bothering him. “Way back when, I had to go back to Dalton,” she said quietly, and his chest pinched his lungs. “I couldn’t have lived with myself, especially after what I’d done, unless I tried everything within my power to fix my marriage.”
He dragged in a breath. Deep down he’d known the truth. He’d always known. Not that it had made it any easier.
“It’s okay, Kate,” he said. “I understand.”
But it was hard as hell being the one left behind. And as he continued to stare down at the street, he finally realized Kate didn’t have to walk away to cause him pain. She was doing a mighty fine job in person.
“I’ve always wanted you, Memphis,” she went on softly, the words curling in his chest, expanding, taking up more room than they should. Threatening to overwhelm his every thought. “Even as a teen. Even as you and Brian used to antagonize my parents with your hell-raising antics. Even as you used to tease me and drive me nuts.” Memphis turned to face her, taking in her steady gaze. The frank honesty on her face. “You were big and you were bold and you were so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” she said, and desire licked at his body. “I just didn’t want you to know.”
His voice was rough. “I knew.”
And it was immensely unsatisfying to suffer through an intense attraction when the other person seemed damn determined to pretend it didn’t exist. He’d always wondered if the wanting but not having was what had made her like a drug he couldn’t quit.
Unfortunately, now he knew it wasn’t true.
He wanted to pull her into his arms. But he’d waited years to hear this confession and he wasn’t going to touch her until she finished.
“I’m sure you could sense it,” she went on. “Even as I was yelling at you and Brian for pulling a stupid stunt.”
“You were frustrated.”
Her laugh was shaky. “I was so hot for you I didn’t know which way was up.”
The words escaped before he could corral them. “You were damn good at hiding your feelings,” he said. “Every time you lifted your chin and shot me that cool, disapproving expression I wanted to jerk you into my arms and kiss the reserved look right out of your eyes. And then when I approached you at your prom, to say congratulations, you looked right past me.” He let out a soft snort of old anger, the self-mocking smile easing it a touch. “I was so ticked off at you.”
She sent him a sad smile. “If it’s any consolation, I knew exactly when you and Tiffany went to your car.” Her beautiful lips quirked, but he couldn’t tell if it was from amusement or sadness. “There I was with Dalton. A charming, smart and handsome guy a person couldn’t help but love, and that included me and my parents.” She met his gaze again, her voice clear, the years of longing evident in her troubled eyes. “But I couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to be the one in your backseat.”
With a crude curse, Memphis hauled her against his chest, letting loose the bottled-up energy via a scalding kiss.
He didn’t bother with finesse as he speared his fingers into her hair, knocking the pins loose, the strands falling free, angling her head to take her mouth with all the pent-up sexual urges and resentment he’d felt in his teens. Problem was, the mountain of discontent from those years was too large to be so easily leveled.
He attempted anyway, the kiss turning raw, his mouth trying to merge with hers, his teeth intermittently nipping at her lower lip, his tongue subduing hers into a dance he led with a vengeance. And she kissed him back.
This wasn’t about her years of going without sex. This wasn’t about just the crackling electricity that burned whenever they were in the same room. This was about the frustrating teenage years they’d endured. And the hormonally driven angst of wanting and not having.
As if sensing the extent of his need, Kate didn’t try to direct the moment, simply going along with whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to do it. She returned his kiss with, if not total submission, at least with a concession that right here, right now, Memphis James owned Kate Anderson.
It was Memphis who shucked his clothes and tossed them aside.
It was Memphis who unzipped her dress and pushed it and her panties to the floor.
And when Kate’s hands shifted to his hips, as if to pull him close, Memphis gruffly muttered something even he didn’t understand and grabbed her wrists, pinning them at her sides. The desire to consume every inch of her, to stamp his claim on Kate, left no room for subtlety. His lips worked their way down her body, an open-mouthed, hungry kiss over the pounding pulse at her throat, a soft scrape of his teeth across the tantalizing tip of her breast, thrilling at the sounds coming from Kate. With the scent of lavender in his nose, the salty, silken skin of her abdomen on his tongue, he knelt in front of her.
His voice rough, he gave a single command. “Kate.”
And she complied, parting her legs.
His mouth tasted, his tongue teased and the choked sounds of pleasure coming from Kate’s mouth brought him immense satisfaction. When
he couldn’t wait any longer, he stood and lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the corridor. She buried her face in his neck, her warm breath coming quick, but she said nothing as he strode down the hallway and, with a small kick, pushed open the door to his room.
Never letting her hips go, he planted a knee on his mattress and laid her back on the bed, moving over her and into her with a sure thrust of his hips.
Kate bowed her body, arching her back.
He laced his fingers through hers. Pressing her hands above her head, he repeatedly and relentlessly rocked his hips with the force of a passion born of the years of denial: every surreptitious look from their teens, every cool slide of her gaze to somewhere over his shoulder, and every heated argument that he now knew, in part, was born of sexual frustration. For every one of those moments his hard length drove deep between her legs, seeking more of the softness—as if to confirm that, yes, he hadn’t been alone in the wanting. And though he led the wild, reckless pace, Kate followed willingly, meeting him thrust for thrust.
The promise of deep pleasure tightened low in his back, the age-old ache devouring him from the inside out, and he lifted his head to look down at the beautiful face he’d fantasized about in his youth. Cheeks flushed, her blue eyes smoky, she was close to orgasm, he could tell. And when she arched her neck, her lips red from his rough kisses, his name spilled from her mouth as she called out her completion, and his need became acute.
The torturous burn low in his back became a raging fire. Pushing him further. Driving him higher. Until the height of pleasure grew so great that, with a final thrust, he took the greatest high-fall of his life.
As their overheated bodies cooled, Kate listened to Memphis’s heart slowly recover, her cheek resting on his hard chest. Her muscles slack, her limbs loose, she basked in the afterglow of their explosion, her fingers tracing the scar on his collarbone. She didn’t care that her body was damp from the exertion. She didn’t care her hair was so tangled it would take a shower and a whole bottle of conditioner to comb it out. All she felt was a bone-deep contentment.
