Sultry

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  “That’s no problem. I have that with me.” Tim handed him a sealed envelope. “Anything else?”

  “Not at the moment.” Freeman scooted the chair back and stood.

  “Hey,” Tim said anxiously, “where’re you off to in such a hurry? I have some more questions. I want to know exactly what I’ll be getting and when.”

  Freeman’s features turned cold. “All in due time, Doctor.”

  “And you can assure me that this is all aboveboard, that the product’s the real thing?”

  Freeman smiled. “Of course. Don’t give it another thought. This is going to be the easiest money you’ve ever made.”

  Tim hoped so. God, he hoped so.

  “Good morning, Daddy.”

  Cooper acknowledged Lindsay’s greeting with an absent smile before leaning his head back and draining his coffee cup.

  “Are you headed to the golf course?” she asked, her eyes giving him the once-over. It seemed as if he’d never been in an accident, much less an almost fatal one. He seemed one hundred percent his old self.

  “That’s right. But I’m going to stop by the office first.”

  “Ah, checking on Tim, huh?” Lindsay’s tone was teasing.

  Cooper didn’t respond in kind. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Oh, Daddy, you ought to leave him alone, let him do his own thing.”

  Cooper snorted, then wiped his mouth with his napkin before tossing it down beside his plate. “Just like you’re doing your own thing, right?”

  Lindsay blanched, but her tone was innocent. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That doesn’t deserve an answer, because you know what it means.”

  Lindsay curbed her anger. She didn’t want to begin this hot but clear day arguing with her daddy. But if he had his way, that was how it was going to be.

  She had come to the sunroom with its array of green and flowering plants and colorful furniture to get inspired. While the computer was a valued tool, she oftentimes did her best work away from it.

  She hadn’t expected to find her daddy already there.

  “I suppose you’re talking about my project,” she said at last.

  “What else?” Cooper’s tone was clipped, and his mouth was set. “How could I not? After all, you asked two of my oldest and dearest friends for money.”

  Lindsay didn’t flinch under his harsh words and scrutiny, but she wanted to. It was still so hard for her to buck Cooper, to go against what he wanted for her. But if she didn’t, she would shrivel up and die inside. It had come to that.

  “I didn’t mention money,” she said quietly.

  “But you will.”

  “For now I’m only asking for their time.”

  “Time and money.” Cooper gave a heavy shrug. “One always follows the other.”

  Lindsay forced a smile at Dolly, who walked in and refilled Cooper’s empty cup. When they were alone again, she asked, “How did you know I’d been in contact with Ash and Peggy?”

  “They attended the same dinner party I did last evening.”

  Lindsay smothered a sigh. That was what she’d anticipated would happen, but she had kept her fingers crossed that if it did, they would influence him to join the cause. Such was apparently not the case.

  “I know you don’t approve—”

  “You’re damn right I don’t.”

  Lindsay’s lips snapped shut, and she looked beyond him through the expanse of glass. A squirrel was sitting on a flimsy limb, its paws gripping a nut of some kind, while its little mouth was busy munching. For a moment the sight of the animal held her spellbound.

  So much for the simple side of life, she thought, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. Her daddy had just given her self-confidence another whack.

  It had been three days since her mind-boggling encounter with Mitch and her subsequent lunch with Mary Jane. During that time, she had tried to keep herself busy, to keep from thinking about Mitch and how much she would love a repeat performance of that evening.

  She had worked like a Trojan on the project itself, trying to iron out the details. While she had accomplished a great deal, she still had a lot of loose ends to tie up. Hence this morning’s brainstorming session.

  “I’m still convinced this crazy idea of yours will never get off the ground.”

  Her daddy’s harsh statement forced her back to the moment. “It will if you don’t sabotage it.”

  Cooper’s mouth thinned. “I won’t have to. In the end, I’m convinced you’ll come around to my way of thinking and let it go.”

  If he wanted to think that, then so be it. At least it got her off the hot seat. She stood, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

  “No, you won’t. I’m leaving town after my golf game.”

  “Oh?”

  “Patty and I are driving up to her horse farm for the night.”

  Patty was his latest woman friend. She seemed really nice—one of the few older women he took out. “Be careful, and have a good time.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Lindsay shook her head. “Don’t ask. You don’t want to know.”

  Without waiting for a response, she turned and made her way back upstairs to her room, where she remained until late afternoon firming up plans for an upcoming banquet. She had suggested this fund-raising event to her friends, who in turn had suggested they use the banquet to organize a golf tournament, also for the purpose of raising money.

  Lindsay had been ecstatic and couldn’t wait to get started.

  She also spoke with the president of the board of the local junior college, who agreed to meet with her the following week.

  All in all, it was a productive day.

  So why, later, did she feel so restless, so in need of human contact? She knew the answer to that. It wasn’t in her best interest to be alone. Her psychiatrist, Dr. Milbrook, had stressed that over and over. It allowed her too much time to think about things she had no business thinking about.

  Mitch Rawlins was certainly one of those forbidden things. She felt a tightening down low—the same feeling she had experienced when he’d kissed her.

  She closed her eyes, imagining him in her mind, imagined him touching her in all the right places. Her breathing quickened, and she placed a trembling hand to her damp forehead.

  Lindsay lurched out of the chair, fighting off a suffocating feeling in her chest. What she needed was some fresh air to clear thoughts of that reckless evening from her mind. She had been cooped up too long.

  With that, she fled her room, not realizing she was holding her breath until she reached the outdoors. Her eyes scanned the premises as she started to walk. All seemed clear. The workers had apparently shut down for the day, which meant Mitch was probably in his cabin.

  Dare she?

  Her heart upped its beat even as she told herself no, that what she was thinking was ludicrous and not going to happen.

  Still, she found herself heading in that direction, as if her legs and feet had a will of their own. She refused to delve into the sane part of her brain that might know why she was pulling a stunt like this.

  By the time she reached his cabin, her breath was burning her lungs. “Don’t do this,” she whispered, hearing the desperation underlying her own words. “Please, don’t do this.”

  Her footsteps didn’t falter until she stepped up onto the porch, where her conscience once again pricked her. However, curiosity mixed with desire won. She peered in a window. Instantly her feet froze to the spot, and she stared, her mouth gaping.

  He was walking across the living room, as naked as the day he was born.

  Fourteen

  Lindsay couldn’t move. She could only stand there and continue to stare with her heart beating in her throat. Even when he moved, she remained motionless, watching as he strode to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer and popped it open.

  He tossed his head back and took several healthy gulps. Linds
ay’s eyes soaked in every angle and curve of his hard, tanned body, targeting the wash-board-flat stomach that tapered to his manhood.

  Perspiration. It was oozing through every pore on her skin. Though the air was hot and humid, her condition had nothing to do with the weather.

  Lust.

  That was what she was experiencing—pure, raw lust, as she watched him take another swig of the beer, then swipe his mouth with the back of his hand. She felt herself dissolve under the heat of that lust, melting as though she were made of wax and had been set on fire.

  As if he sensed something was not quite right, Mitch turned and peered through the window. She saw rather than heard him catch his breath. An incredulous expression crossed his features at the same time that the flesh between his legs burgeoned. She tried desperately to avert her gaze, but her efforts proved futile.

  Mitch dropped the beer and strode toward her. Suddenly he seemed more like a stranger than ever—a dangerous stranger.

  Rather than turn and bolt the way she should have, Lindsay stood her ground, though her mind screamed at her to move. But again her body failed to cooperate. It was as if it had control of her, instead of the other way around.

  Lindsay’s breath rushed in and out of her lungs at such a rapid rate that she feared she might black out. She dug her fingernails deep into her palms and watched him charge out the front door into the inky blackness, one expletive after another spilling from his lips.

  “Mitch…I’m sorry,” Lindsay whispered, dry-mouthed.

  He stopped in front of her, within touching distance, his eyes piercing and his breathing hard—harder than hers.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he muttered harshly, continuing to bear down on her.

  She peered up at him out of shocked, rounded eyes. But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

  “Dammit, Lindsay,” he said in a strangled voice.

  Then, without warning, Mitch grabbed her by the arm and pushed her toward the door. Once they were inside, in the middle of the room, the lamp cast an eerie glow around them. Lindsay’s teeth began chattering as the repercussions of what she’d done and where she was hit her.

  And he was still naked.

  She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep, shuddering breath. That didn’t help. All she did was pull the clean scent of him into her lungs, feel herself drowning in it. Dear Lord, had she indeed lost her mind?

  “Lindsay, look at me.”

  He sounded thick-tongued, as if he’d been drinking too much. She knew better, especially when she stared into those killer blue eyes. They were as clear and heart-stopping as ever. But he wasn’t nearly as in control as he appeared. His voice had given him away.

  “I’m looking,” she whispered, another shudder going through her.

  “This is insane,” he rasped.

  “I…know.”

  “You also know what’s about to happen, don’t you?”

  Heat boiled anew inside her, but when she swallowed, it felt as if she had nails in her throat. “Yes.”

  She barely got that tiny word out of her mouth before he had her backed against the wall, his lips grinding into hers. There was no pain, only pleasure, as those lips probed, delved, sucked until she thought the top of her head would come off.

  Lindsay had never before been kissed like this—not with such all-devouring intensity. And while it should have frightened her, it didn’t. She gave him carte blanche, returning his passion with a fire all her own.

  When he pulled his head back, his eyes were blazing. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into his bedroom, where another lamp burned in the far corner.

  She whimpered as he laid her on the bed, then leaned over and sank his lips on hers again with that same hungry intensity. She curled her arms around his neck at the same time that he ran a hand under her shirt and rubbed her breasts.

  “Mitch,” she moaned against his lips.

  “Does that feel good?” he asked thickly.

  “Oh, yes.”

  It was too late to pull back now. Lindsay had asked for what she was about to get. Minutes ago, she could have sneaked back into the night without his knowing she’d been there. Yet she hadn’t. As she’d thought that day with Mary Jane, she wanted to get burned.

  Why?

  The answer was a no-brainer. She wanted him. She had wanted him from the first time she saw him, and she was no longer going to deny that, even to herself. She just hadn’t realized just how severe the craving was until now. Until she had seen him naked. Now she had to have him, as if he’d become an addiction.

  Yet she knew what they were doing was wrong, being done for all the wrong reasons. And while the sane side of her demanded she call a halt to this madness, she couldn’t.

  Without taking his heated gaze off her, Mitch suddenly ripped the buttons off her camp shirt, then tugged at the snap on her cutoffs. With her panties entwined around his strong fingers, he jerked them off her.

  Wordlessly, his mouth fused with hers again. Her arms circled his broad shoulders; she wanted him as close as possible, ached to feel all of him.

  As if he had read her mind or was rabid for the same thing, he pressed against her until they were heart to heart, belly to belly.

  “Please,” she said achingly.

  “Please what?”

  His voice was even thicker now, like rich cream that couldn’t seem to shake loose from its container.

  She couldn’t answer. His mouth was on her breast, sucking on the nipple, while his hand kneaded the other breast.

  When his lips deserted that nipple, she made a strange little sound, wanting him to continue his sweet assault. He did, taking his mouth lower.

  While she clung to him, he licked a fiery trail between her breasts, down her slender belly, and stopping at her navel.

  “Oh, Mitch,” she panted, his tongue spearing that tiny hole time and time again, while the palm of his callused hand moved to the apex of her thighs, where it simply rested.

  But not for long. Soon he began to rub ever so softly, up and down and around, causing that ever-building heat to spark all through her body.

  “Mitch, please.”

  This time she was begging, begging him to put out the fire that was scorching her insides. He didn’t relent. He seemed to take pleasure in driving her mad, and himself, as well.

  She could feel him. He was so hot and hard, as if he could explode at any second. She wanted him to—but inside her. She wanted him to fill that void that his lips and hands had created.

  Yet he seemed determined to punish her, but ever so sweetly, with those lips and hands, continuing to touch, to kiss, to nibble, showing her absolutely no mercy.

  Then he touched her there.

  Her hips bucked, and her eyes widened on him. He peered at her, and their gazes locked. Finally he broke the contact, lowering his head and dipping his tongue into the dewy center of her.

  “Oh…”

  Lindsay dug her fingers into his hair, clutching him in a death grip, reveling in the feel of him as he took her to dizzying heights, heights she’d never reached before.

  Then he was above her, spreading her thighs. She arched her body, and when she did, he thrust into her, robbing her of her breath.

  He was so big, so hard, so filling, that she was powerless against his strength. But she need not have worried. He was gentle, moving ever so tenderly. At first, that was, until the length of him was high inside her. Then he upped his pace and his strokes to the savage level, taking her on the ride of her life.

  Their ahs and oohs rended the air simultaneously.

  For the longest time afterward, neither said a word. He moved off her but didn’t let her go, turning her so that their sweat-drenched bodies faced each other.

  “Mitch…”

  He touched her lips with a finger. “Don’t say anything.”

  “I guess there’s really nothing to say.”

  “N
ot now.” He kissed her on a breast that was still as firm as an unripened peach. “Our bodies just said it all.”

  Lindsay sighed as his arms closed tightly around her, holding her as if he would never let her go.

  And the problem was, she didn’t want him to.

  Lindsay couldn’t say how long she slept.

  She didn’t bother looking for a clock when she disengaged herself from Mitch’s arms. He moaned, and for a second she feared she’d awakened him. But she hadn’t, thank goodness.

  As silently and as cautiously as possible, she eased out of bed, slipped into her clothes and tiptoed to the door, then out.

  By the time she reached her own bedroom a few minutes later, she was completely out of breath, having run all the way home.

  Immediately, she shed her clothes and stepped into the shower, where the tears flowed along with the water.

  She had done it.

  She’d had sex with Mitch. Fear welled up inside her as she turned off the faucet and reached for a towel. Once her body was dry, she padded back into her room, climbed into bed and curled into a fetal position.

  In retrospect, she had definitely gotten what she’d asked for. And more. Much more. Having Mitch inside her had been everything she had ever hoped for. Yet she knew there would be no repeat performance.

  Even if their worlds weren’t on a collision course, there was Cooper, whose image loomed large in her mind. Her father would go berserk if he ever found out that she’d had sex with an employee.

  Cooper would terminate Mitch on the spot.

  She couldn’t allow that to happen. What had happened had been her fault. She’d come on to him, and he’d given her exactly what she’d asked for.

  If she had it to do all over again, would she do the same thing?

  Yes.

  In spite of the chill of the air conditioner, Lindsay felt her body rekindle its fire for him. Even now, she ached for the feel of his hands and mouth on her. So how could she stay away from him?

  She couldn’t—not when he made her feel as she’d never felt before—desirable and whole. Oh, Mitch, she wept silently.

  Come morning, Lindsay still hadn’t closed her eyes.

  Fifteen