Temperatures Rising

by Brenda Jackson

  The kiss they had shared hadn’t helped matters. A part of her wished she could toss caution to the wind and engage in the type of affair he was used to, but she was too quick to give her heart. An involvement with Terrence would be heartbreak just waiting to happen.

  But boy, was she tempted…

  “If you’re sure that you’re ready to leave, I’ll walk you down.”

  His words filtered through her mind and interrupted her thoughts. He was giving her a chance to change her mind, to reconsider his invitation. But she wouldn’t. “Thanks, and yes, I am sure.”

  “All right.”

  She watched as he rounded the table to walk toward her, and her heart pounded deep in her chest with every step he took. He would escort her down but he intended to kiss her again before he did. She felt it in her bones. She felt his intentions in the very air she was breathing. It was there on his face, in his expression, especially in the eyes that held her in their direct gaze.

  She suddenly felt hot, light-headed. When he came to a stop in front of her, saying nothing but concentrating on her mouth, she felt weak in the knees. Although she wanted to deny it, desire was flooding her body. Blood rushed fast and furious through her veins. A hard thump pounded in her chest and a pool of heat gathered between her legs. The last thing she needed at that moment was all these sexual feelings, but they were there, complicating things.

  He shifted his gaze lower, and, following the path of his gaze, she saw what now held his attention. Her nipples had hardened and were pressed against her blouse, making her arousal obvious.

  His eyes returned to her mouth and he stood there for several moments before finally reaching out and placing his hands at her waist. The smile he gave her made her breath catch, and then he lowered his head and in one absolute imprisonment confined her lips to his.

  She wound her arms around his neck. It was either that or slither to the floor from the impact of his kiss. The moment he captured her tongue, she was a goner. Then he released it, taking free rein of her mouth, unrestricted. She felt every touch, every flicker, every bold movement of his tongue—direct, unguarded, unrestrained.

  A moan escaped from deep in her throat. She felt her resolve weakening when a scene of her in that bed across the room flashed through her mind. And he was there in that bed with her, hovering over her, making any resistance melt away.

  A loud bang below had her jumping back out of his arms, drawing in a deep breath. She suppressed an inner shiver when she met his heated gaze, and she knew if given the chance he would pull her back in his arms and kiss her again, even take it to another level. Lord help her, but she needed to get out of there.

  “I need to leave. Now,” she said in a strained voice.

  As if he understood, he nodded. “All right.”

  Taking her hand in his, he led her out of the room and toward the elevator. Lucky for her the doors opened the moment he pressed the button, and she quickly stepped inside.

  When she saw he was about to join her, she said quickly, “You don’t have to ride down with me.”

  The smile he gave her made her breath catch. “I know, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Regardless of what you might think, I can be a gentleman,” he said, pushing a button for the lower floor.

  Instead of speaking, she just nodded. She would be sure to add gentleman beneath good kisser on her list of his many attributes. Though she tried to ignore him once the elevator closed, he stood against the wall staring at her like he wanted to cross the space separating them and devour her.

  She released a deep breath when the elevator stopped and the door swooshed open. She quickly stepped out and headed for the exit door. It was then that she heard the music. The band had started playing and the slow tune they were performing was one of her favorites. She unconsciously slowed her pace.

  “Let’s have at least one dance before you leave,” Terrence whispered close to her ear as he took her hand in his.

  She nodded, and within seconds he led her toward the dance floor. Heat surged through her the moment he pulled her into his arms. A frisson of sensual awareness invaded her entire being and the air surrounding them seemed supercharged. As if they had a mind of their own, her arms wrapped around him the same way his embraced her. She closed her eyes and placed her head on his chest despite thinking that she really needed to leave, go back to the safety of her home, and that dancing with him this way was too risky. But then, being held in his arms felt good, and like always when they were this close, she could feel her body responding to the pure masculinity of him. His muscles felt hard and firm beneath her fingers and she felt herself pressed even more tightly against him. Then her mind began wondering again. She wondered how it would feel to have his skin beneath her fingertips, how the texture of it would taste on her tongue.

  “Sherri.”

  It took her a full minute to realize he had called her name. She looked up into the darkness of his eyes, desire lining his pupils. “Yes?”

  “I was dead serious when I invited you to spend the night,” he leaned down and whispered huskily.

  She considered his invitation, really considered it. Although it had been a long time since she’d been involved in a physical relationship with a man, she still wasn’t ready to give herself to him so fully and completely. Because of Ben, she was going out of her way to safeguard her heart from further hurt and pain, and she believed an affair with Terrence would lead to just that.

  The song had ended, but they were still standing in the middle of the dance floor. “Come, let’s sit over here,” he said, leading her to one of the tables near the windows.

  “We want the same thing, Sherri,” he said when they were seated. “I think you know that.”

  She glanced over at him. “I want more from a relationship than just the physical. I’ll never settle for just that again, Terrence.”

  He nodded. “And a physical relationship is all I can ever offer a woman.”

  Sherri stared at him for a few moments before slowly standing. Her words held finality when she spoke. “Then it would never work between us, because we want different things.” She sighed deeply. “I’m leaving, since we fully understand each other.”

  And then she headed for the exit door without looking back.

  Chapter 4

  “T his is the Holy Terror, and you’re tuned to WLCK, the Keys’ most important stroke on your radio. Although some of you die-hard football fans want to get a head start discussing the coming season, today on Sports Talk we’re talking about Wimbledon, the oldest tennis tournament in the world, which starts shortly. There’re many tennis fans out there in the audience, and I want to hear from you.”

  Sherri stood in the glass-enclosed booth next to where Terrence sat with a computer monitor flashing in front of him. Mark, the person who was usually available to screen incoming calls for Sports Talk, had called in sick and with a limited staff working during the summer months, she’d pitched in to help, which would have been fine if it hadn’t put her in close contact with Terrence.

  It had been almost two weeks since that night he had invited her to dinner. Two solid weeks during which time they’d passed each other in the halls and sat across from each other in meetings while trying to ignore the sexual tension radiating between them. Sexual tension that her parting words to him hadn’t been able to eradicate.

  Sighing deeply, she checked the clock in the hall. Terrence’s show lasted an hour, and it had just started. Even separated from him in the booth, she felt the effect of him just by listening to his voice. He had what most in the industry would refer to as a stroking voice, one that could pull a listener in.

  He had gone into advertisements, giving five minutes before he was ready to take the first call.

  As if he knew she was in the booth, he turned off his mike, took off his headset and looked her way. Their gazes locked. She felt the sensations she’d been trying to ignore, sensations she’d convinced herself had actually been a figment of her imagin
ation. At this very moment he was proving her wrong. He was also making her remember that night the two of them had shared dinner alone. The kisses. Their dance. For her the Holy Terror experience was coming back in full force.

  Her lips tightened when he leaned back in his chair and continued to study her. He should be keeping an eye on that computer monitor instead of on her. Likewise, she should be screening his incoming calls. She tried to ignore him but felt his gaze still glued to her, like that of a hungry predator with its next meal in focus.

  Her only saving grace was that the jingle was about to end. She watched as he sat up straight in his chair, put his headset back on and turned the mike back on. Only then did he shift his attention from her.

  She released a deep sigh. It was destined to be a long hour.

  “Hi, Holy Terror, this is Monica.”

  Terrence couldn’t help but smile. Monica Kendricks was a frequent caller no matter what sport they were discussing. And she was a notorious flirt. “Monica, what can I do for you today?”

  “Several things,” she said in that feminine chuckle that actually had the tendency to grate on his nerves. “But the one I’m safe in requesting of you is for you to end a disagreement between me and several of my girlfriends. They say the nineteen courts at Wimbledon are composed of just rye grass but I remember reading somewhere it was Bermuda grass.”

  The first thing that came into Terrence’s mind was who gave a crap. Were there really women somewhere who’d been arguing about the type of grass on the courts at Wimbledon? He shook his head. “I hate to tell you this, Monica, but you lose. All the courts at Wimbledon are composed of rye grass.” And before she could comment, he moved to the next call.

  “This is the Holy Terror.”

  “Holy, this is Thomas.”

  “Yes, Thomas. What’s your question?”

  “It’s about Serena and Venus.”

  “What about them?”

  “Rumor has it you use to date one of them,” Thomas said.

  “And if I did?”

  “Will you be joining one or both in London later this month?”

  “No, sorry to disappoint you,” Terrence said, smiling.

  “Hey, you could never disappoint me, man. I was there that night when the Dolphins clobbered the Cowboys to go to the Super Bowl thanks to your winning touchdown. You’re the greatest.”

  He chuckled. “No, Muhammad Ali is.”

  “Oh, then you’re the second greatest, and if you did date one of the Williams girls, then you’re also my hero.”

  Terrence shook his head again. It was one of those days.

  An hour later Terrence turned off his mike and removed his headset again before standing to work the kinks out of his body. He had gotten a record number of calls today. It seemed everyone had to say something about the Grand Slam season.

  He glanced over at the glass booth. He could see the top of Sherri’s head, which meant she was still there, probably telling disappointed callers the show was over. His lips curved into a smile when she stood and caught his eye. They hadn’t said a word to each other for a couple of weeks while effectively waging one hell of a mental battle. As far as he was concerned such a battle could be fought anywhere but could only end in the bedroom.

  Okay, so they were at opposing crossroads. She had happily ever after in her sights and he had no plans of indulging in anything remotely close. But what did that have to do with overactive testosterone and raging hormones? They were adults. They had needs. Who said they couldn’t enjoy each other without any promises of tomorrow? No expectations. No obligations.

  He imagined she assumed that she’d had the last word, and for the past couple of weeks he’d let her. That had given him time to think, make a few decisions and formulate a revised plan. The bottom line was that, for a reason he still hadn’t yet figured out, he wanted her. He’d wanted other women in the past, but none with this degree of wanting. It kept him up at night with thoughts of how it would feel to slide between those luscious-looking thighs.

  The two kisses they’d shared that night had done more damage than good. He thought if the kisses alone were that explosive, how would it feel to get naked with her, share her bed, get inside her body and take the word stroking to a whole other level and then some? He got hard just thinking about it. With him, being hard equated to one thing: getting laid.

  Playing Mr. Nice with her hadn’t gotten him anywhere, so it was time he lived up to his name. Determined, he moved toward the booth at the same time she came out of it. He stopped dead in his tracks wondering how a woman could look both professional and sexy at the same time. She liked wearing those business suits, and one of these days he intended to peel one right off her body, along with whatever she was wearing underneath.

  He began walking again and came to a stop in front of her. He felt the sexual tension, a lot stronger today. “Hello, Sherri.”

  “Terrence. It was a nice show.”

  He smiled. “Thanks. And you look nice.”

  He hated making small talk when what he really wanted to do was scoop her up into his arms and take her somewhere—her office was one consideration—and make love to her until she begged for more and then start the hot and delicious process all over again until they were out of each other’s systems.

  “Thank you.”

  “So what are you doing for lunch?” he asked, looking at his watch.

  “Haven’t made any plans yet,” she responded softly. “More than likely I’ll work through lunch.”

  He looked back at her and smiled. “And miss the opportunity of going off somewhere with me to make out?”

  Any doubts he’d had that she wanted him as much as he wanted her dissolved then and there. Desire was there in the eyes looking back at him. It was there in her expression, although she was trying like hell to hide it. Why was she so opposed to a short, no-strings-attached affair? Why couldn’t she forget about that jerk who evidently hadn’t appreciated her? And couldn’t she temporarily suspend the idea of a little house and white picket fence? That could come later with some nice, willing guy who shared her views on the whole forever-after thing. What she and he needed to concentrate on was the needless torture they were going through now.

  “How many times do I have to tell you that an affair between us won’t work, Terrence?” she said with impatience in her voice.

  “As many times as I’m going to tell you that it will not only work but it’s a necessity.”

  She rolled her eyes. “A necessity? That’s a good one.” Her lips twitched in a smirk.

  Now he was the impatient one. “Don’t let me wipe that smirk off your face in a way that will have you moaning my name, Sherri.”

  Her smirk immediately turned to a frown. “I think you’ve said enough. My uncle may have given you free rein to say or do what you please around here, but I’m not included on your agenda.”

  He moved a step closer. “Baby, starting today you are my agenda,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Don’t confuse the Mr. Nice and Persistent guy from before. Now all is fair in love and war.”

  She lifted her chin and glared at him. “Oh, now are you saying you’re capable of falling in love?”

  Now it was his turn to frown. “No, what I’m saying is not even close. But actions will speak louder than words. You’ll see what I mean.”

  “I’m opposed to whatever you’re thinking of doing.”

  A mischievous smile touched his lips. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She inhaled deeply. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s kind of hard for me to get it when you’re emitting such hot vibes whether you want to send them or not. Now I’m giving you fair warning that I plan to act on them. And trust me when I say that you’ll be the one getting it. Now if you will excuse me I need to go check on things at the club. You’re welcome to join me for dinner if you like.”

  “No, thank you,” she said firmly.

  He smi
led. “If you change your mind, just show up. I like surprises.”

  “He likes surprises. The nerve of the man!” Sherri muttered under her breath as she made her way back to her office. She had a good mind to turn around and tell him just where he could stick those surprises he liked so much.

  Her footsteps halted when she saw her uncle walking quickly toward her office. “Uncle Warrick, you need to see me?”

  “Yes, I just got a call from Jeremy Wilkins. He’s decided to sell WSOV after all and wants to give me first dibs.”

  Sherri couldn’t help but smile. “Uncle Warrick, that’s wonderful. I know how long you’ve wanted to operate a station in Memphis.”

  “Yes, well, keep your fingers crossed that the negotiations are successful. Wilkins can be hard as nails at times, and he knows how much I want that station. The worst thing you can ever do is to let your opponent know how anxious you are to get something.”

  Evidently nobody ever told that to Terrence, she thought. “How soon will you be leaving?”

  “Just as soon as I can get to the airport,” he said as they walked toward her office. “Wilkins has sent his private jet for me. I put my feelers out, and from what I hear he’s in a little financial bind. He might know I want to buy the station, but it helps me to know just how much he needs to sell it.”

  Sherri admired her uncle. His goal had been to own at least five radio stations before he turned forty, which he’d done. Now, at fifty-five, he owned fifteen across the country.

  “That means I’m leaving you completely in charge while I’m gone,” he said as they entered her office. “It might take me a full week to work out all the details and return as owner of station number sixteen.”

  Her uncle’s excitement was contagious. “Don’t worry about a thing while you’re away. I’ll handle everything and everyone.”

  His brow raised. “What about the Holy Terror? Have the two of you been getting along any better than the last time we talked?”