Welcome to Temptation: A Romantic Comedy

by Hughes, Charlotte

  “I didn’t want the water to get cold since you’re planning on using it. If you like, I can try to find something for you to wear after your bath. My grandmother could not bear to get rid of my grandfather’s clothes once he passed so she and I moved them to the closet in the spare bedroom. I’ll see if I can find a bathrobe.”

  “Thanks,” he said and handed her the flashlight. For a moment, they stood looking at one another. Michelle decided it was time she put some distance between them. The bathroom had suddenly grown too small, and it seemed to be lacking in oxygen. That probably explained why she felt breathless and light-headed. She hurried out and closed the door.

  Gator shucked off his clothes and got into the tub. The water was still warm. He scrubbed from head to toe. Once he washed his hair he realized there were no more buckets of warm water available so he rinsed in cold water beneath the bathtub faucet. Instead of feeling cold, it cooled his body temperature, and he did not feel so hot.

  Michelle tapped on the door a few minutes later. “I’m leaving my grandfather’s bathrobe outside the door.”

  “Thanks,” Gator said.

  She hesitated, listening to the sounds of Gator washing. Her mind was instantly filled with images of him sitting in the tub, his naked body slick and wet, the light from the candle illuminating those black eyes. She heard him climb from the tub and she hurried away.

  Gator emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing the bathrobe and looking refreshed. Michelle thought he’d never looked sexier. The robe was short on him, the hem falling well above his knees, exposing a pair of hair-roughened calves and thighs that were lean but slightly muscular. She felt her stomach tighten at the sight of him. His wet hair fell about his head carelessly.

  “Well, that certainly felt good,” he announced, sinking on the couch beside her. The cushion dipped under the weight of his body. He leaned back and propped his feet on Reba’s coffee table.

  He smelled of soap and male flesh, Michelle noted, kicking her own feet up next to his, trying her darnedest to appear casual about the whole thing. But how could she hope to pull that off when her thoughts refused to cooperate? How was she supposed to forget that he was completely naked beneath that robe?

  A large calico cat leaped into her lap and curled into a fat ball. For a moment Michelle and Gator merely sat there, both of them gazing at the candle she had place on the coffee table.

  “When do you think someone will come for us?” she finally asked.

  “In the morning probably.”

  “So we’ll sleep here tonight?”

  He nodded. “I don’t know anyone dumb enough to venture out on the bayou at night.”

  “I hope Reba isn’t worried.”

  “She knows I’ll take care of you, Mic,” he said gently.

  Michelle raised her green eyes to his black ones. She knew he spoke the truth. Reba might be concerned when she didn’t return, but she would feel comfortable knowing Gator was with her. And the odd thing about it was Michelle felt equally comfortable. Gator, in his own way, inspired confidence. He might make her mad as at times, but she knew she was safe in his care. She smiled at the thought.

  Gator didn’t miss it. “What’re you thinking, Mic?” he asked softly.

  “I was just wondering how on earth you came up with a nickname like Gator.” Actually, she was trying to come up with something to take her mind off his nearness. It wasn’t an easy task.

  He chuckled. “How do you know that’s not my real name?”

  “Reba told me your real name was Matthieu.”

  He arched one dark brow. “So you were asking Reba about me?”

  She blushed. “No. Reba mentioned it the day of the storm when you arrived in your boat.” She shot him a sideways glance. “So how’d you get the name?”

  He shrugged. “I once raised a baby alligator from birth. The kids called me Alligator Man for a while, and then just shortened it to Gator. I never cared much for my real name anyway.”

  “I like it.”

  He turned to her. “You do? Well, that’s a first. You finally discovered something about me you like.”

  His words surprised her. “I’ve always liked you, Gator,” she said. “I just don’t understand you, that’s all. You’re so … different from the other men I know.”

  He faced her, propping his elbow on the back of the couch. Michelle tensed when his robe fell open slightly, exposing part of his chest. He didn’t seem to notice.

  Gator studied her in the flickering candlelight. It accentuated the lovely contours of her face, bringing out her high cheekbones and emphasizing her wide green eyes. She had never looked lovelier. “Is that so bad, to be different from other people?”

  Michelle took a long time answering, not only because it was difficult concentrating with him so close, but because she felt her answer was important. Maybe it would explain to both of them why their relationship was so tense. “Not bad, I guess. I just feel … unsure about myself when I’m with you. I never know what to expect.” And she never knew what to expect from herself, she wanted to add.

  “So you don’t like surprises, huh?” He smiled gently.

  “I like knowing where I stand with a person.”

  He pondered her remark. “I’ve always thought highly of you,” he said. He reached for a lock of damp hair and rubbed it between his fingers. She didn’t seem to mind. “Even though we were never intimate, I never forgot how you smelled, how your mouth tasted when I kissed you. I’ve never experienced that sort of thing with another woman.”

  “It didn’t stop you from trying, though, right?” she asked, offering him a wry smile.

  “I never had any reason not to.” He wound the lock of hair around his index finger. “You were special, Mic,” he said simply and honestly.

  “Too bad I had no way of knowing that.”

  “You had just turned sixteen. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Sixteen years have passed since that summer, Gator. That’s a long time.”

  He released her hair and let his hand fall to her shoulder. “Mic, if I had thought for one minute you were interested in hearing from me—” He didn’t finish the sentence.

  “I thought you’d at least write.”

  “I wanted to, believe me.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I was scared.”

  “You? Scared?” She looked doubtful. “I can’t believe Gator Landry would be scared of anything.”

  His eyes held hers tight. “I’m scared to death right now, Mic.” At her look of surprise, he went on. “I’m scared about all these feelings that come to the surface when I look at you. I’m scared because of the things I want to say to you, of the things I want to do to you.”

  His words sucked the breath right out of her. “What … things?”

  “Things like—” He hesitated. “Like maybe I fell in love with you that summer,” he finally said. “I know I was young at the time, but I think I loved you just the same. Sometimes you just know these things. You know when a person has touched you. And, despite the passing of time, those feelings never went away.” He raised a finger to her neck and stroked the white skin there, finding it incredibly soft. “I must’ve made love to you a million times in my dreams,” he confessed.

  Michelle shivered at the sound of his voice; her skin prickled as his fingers trickled up her neck and traced her ear. She attempted to smile, but she could feel her bottom lip tremble with the effort. “And did you … enjoy it?”

  “More than you’ll ever know.”

  For a moment, all they could do was stare at each other. Michelle knew he was going to kiss her, and she couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. His gaze held her rooted to the spot. He lowered his face to hers slowly and hesitated one heart-stopping moment before touching his lips to hers.

  She had been waiting for him to kiss her, Michelle realized, and when his tongue prodded her lips open, she was only too happy to oblige. She met the thrust of his ton
gue boldly, and the kiss deepened and became more erotic than anything she had ever experienced. He sampled the textures of her mouth, sliding his tongue across her teeth and dipping into the dark nooks and crannies as though searching for a hidden treasure. He took her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged it gently, then raised his calloused palms to her face and turned her head just so, giving him free access to her mouth. Michelle had never been so thoroughly kissed in her life.

  Gator paused briefly so they could gulp air into their lungs, then, he captured her lips once more, at the same time trying to hold himself in check so that he didn’t rush the moment. He wanted it to last forever, but he was already so aroused that he couldn’t think straight. He raised his head and looked at her. When he spoke, his voice was raw with emotion. “If you are going to stop me, do it now, Mic.”

  Michelle was almost frightened by the intensity of his gaze. “Gator, I can’t think—”

  “The time for thinking is over, Mic,” he said gruffly. “You either want me or you don’t.” He gazed at her for a moment, feeling as vulnerable as he ever had in his life. He was almost crazy from wanting her, but he wasn’t about to make the first move. This was what 16 years of dreaming about her had done to him. It was scary to want a woman that much.

  Michelle slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, so close his lips brushed hers as lightly as a butterfly’s wing. Heat radiated from his body. “I do want you, Gator,” she whispered against his mouth. “I’ve always wanted you.”

  Chapter Six

  Gator gazed at her for several seconds as the full measure of her words sank in. Her eyes were soft with invitation, her slight smile beguiling and sexy as all get-out. He leaned his head forward, touching her nose playfully with his own, the look in his eyes saying more than he possibly could at the moment. He stood, reached for her hand and tugged gently. Michelle came to her feet. Gator paused briefly, reached for the large ornamental candle he’d carried from the bathroom and led the way to the stairs.

  Once they reached the top, Michelle pointed toward the guest room. Gator followed her direction and set the candle on the night table beside the bed. The room was bathed in a golden light that made it appear warm and cozy. Michelle noticed that Reba’s old furniture didn’t look as harsh in the soft light; but she could not have cared less. The only thing she cared about was the man standing before her.

  Gator stared at Michelle as though she were an apparition, which wasn’t far from the truth as far as he was concerned. If someone had told him a week ago that he’d be sharing her bed, he would have laughed. He still couldn’t believe it. Surely he had done something good in his life to deserve this.

  “Take off the robe, Mic,” he said gently. “I’ve waited sixteen years to see you, and I can’t stand it any longer.” When she hesitated, he added, “Please.”

  Michelle reached for the tie on her grandmother’s robe and tugged the knot free. She pulled the garment open, slid it from her shoulders, and let it fall to the floor.

  Gator heard his own quick intake of breath as he greedily devoured the woman before him with his eyes—the gentle sloping shoulders, the high, softly rounded breasts, and dark coral nipples. Her waist dipped at her navel, then flared into perfectly proportioned hips. The dark blond tuft at the base of her thighs sent a tremor through his body and a rumble of pleasure low in his chest. He raised his eyes to her face. She looked so vulnerable, so unsure, as though she feared she wouldn’t measure up. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he knew the last thing he needed to do was rush her, even though his body cried out for her.

  “It was worth waiting sixteen years, Mic,” he said. He opened his arms, and she went willingly.

  His mouth was warm and soft, giving way to a kiss that was gentle and caring and blessedly unhurried. Michelle leaned into the embrace, drawing strength from his big body and confidence with each gentle, slow-handed caress. She could feel Gator holding back, taking his time with her, and she appreciated it.

  Soon, the kisses turned hot and frantic, Gator’s tongue more insistent. He pressed his mouth against the hollow of her throat, where her pulse beat wildly. He moved to an earlobe, nipped it gently, and then dipped his tongue inside. Michelle shivered.

  Gator had cautioned himself not to hurry. He wanted to savor each moment and give Michelle time to relax with him, but he could not look at her without touching her. He raised his hands slowly and covered each breast with an open palm. Her skin looked like fine porcelain against his dark hands. Finally, he lowered his head.

  Michelle slipped her fingers through his unruly black hair, holding his face close as his lips and tongue toyed with each nipple. For a moment, she merely held him there, stroking his hair as a feeling of tenderness washed over her. Then slowly, the feeling was replaced with something more intense and erotic, warming her lower belly and spiraling downward, congregating at the juncture of her thighs. She trembled with pleasure and anticipation.

  Gator shrugged out of his own robe, and Michelle gazed at him, thinking if a man’s body could be described as beautiful, Gator would win the prize hands-down. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man, only brown flesh and tight muscle. She touched his chest lightly, running her hands through the springy curls that grasped her fingers like silken rings.

  “Touch me, Mic,” he said simply.

  Michelle complied, gently closing her palm around him.

  Gator closed his eyes. How many times had he felt her do just that in his dreams? His blood roared in his ears as she began a gentle lover’s caress that in a matter of seconds had him hard and ready for her. “Not yet, Mic,” he said, stilling her small hand with his. Taking her into his arms once more, Gator eased Michelle onto the bed, following as she went, the mattress dipping under their weight. Once again, he moved his mouth to her breasts, then inched his way to her navel, swirling his tongue around her belly button. Then he kissed his way to her concave stomach. His hands never quieted, stroking and tantalizing her flesh. Finally, he probed the curls between her thighs and dipped his fingers inside. He grinned when he found what he wanted. She was wet.

  “Oh, baby,” he moaned. His black eyes glittered in the candlelight.

  Michelle sighed with ultimate pleasure as Gator’s fingers made contact with the very root of her desire. She arched against his hand, letting her thighs fall to the side as he worked his magic. And even as her inhibitions tried to keep her from losing control, Gator whispered words of encouragement—some of them sweet and tender, others demanding and erotic enough to bring a rosy blush to her cheeks and send her over the edge.

  Heat surged through her, and a feeling of such pleasure gripped her that Michelle cried out. She trembled as Gator moved over her. He waited for her to guide him to her center, then he gently pressed forward until she had buried himself inside.

  For a moment, Gator merely lay there, his body propped on his elbows. He gazed down at Michelle and thought she had never looked lovelier, her green eyes soft, her smile tender. He kissed her lightly on the lips and very slowly began to move inside her. She was hot and tight, gripping him, making him crazy with desire. He kissed her again, deeply, and her tongue met his eagerly, just as her hips met his steady thrusts. They moved in unison, as though in time to the same dance tune, hard lines complementing soft curves. He heard her breath quicken. As before, she cried out his name and arched against him. He gave one finale thrust, hovered on the brink, then shuddered.

  When Gator finally raised his head from her shoulder, he was smiling. Actually, he was grinning from ear to ear, as though over some private joke.

  “What’s so funny?” Michelle asked.

  Gator didn’t answer right away. Instead, he rolled aside and gathered her into his arms. He sighed, and the sound was one of pure male satisfaction. “I was just thinking what a shame it was that we let all those years pass us by before we finally got together. And to think, it took a damn hurricane to do it.” He sighed again, this time wistfully. “All that go
od lovin’ we missed out on. Kind of makes you sad, doesn’t it?” He stroked the back of her neck as he talked.

  Michelle frowned. How could Gator be so casual about what had just happened between them, when for her, the earth had moved. He’d simply referred to it as a bit of “good lovin’.” Her gaze fluttered up his chest to his face.

  “What’s wrong, Mic?”

  She could not keep the annoyance out of her voice. “I think lovemaking is highly overrated in a relationship, Gator,” she said. “It’s important, but it’s not everything.” There now. She could be just as casual about it as the next person.

  Gator knew a moment of intense disappointment. But what could he expect? Just because their lovemaking was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him didn’t mean it had been the same for her. “Well, you certainly seemed to be taking it seriously a moment ago,” he muttered.

  Michelle’s face flamed. Wasn’t it just like Gator Landry to poke fun at her? Why had she thought their lovemaking would alter him, anyway? She pulled away, but he refused to let her go. Instead, he laughed and pulled her tighter against him.

  “I’m just teasing you, honey,” he said. “I like a passionate woman. In fact, I prefer it.” That wasn’t entirely true, he reminded himself. He wanted her to tell him she wasn’t normally so passionate, that he had been the reason for that passion; he needed her to suggest that he had done and made her feel extraordinary things, things like he was feeling.

  “You’re laughing at me, Gator. You’re always laughing at me.”

  He was clearly surprised by her outburst. “I’m not laughing at you, honey. I was just teasing. There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun in bed, is there?”

  “You’re always laughing at me,” she repeated, “wearing that grin … that cocky smile … you’re doing it right now, Gator Landry,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him.