Locked in Temptation

by Brenda Jackson

  “No, you don’t have to remind us of anything,” one of the men snapped.

  “Good. Then the Brotherhood should feel confident that I’ll take care of any issues regarding the surrogate farm. It’s a smooth operation, and the people who allowed that girl to escape were dealt with. It won’t happen again.”

  “You make sure that it doesn’t. You can go now.”

  Norm chuckled under his breath at the bastard thinking he could dismiss him. Oh, well. They would discover soon enough that although Erickson was no longer running things, neither were they.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  “SO WHAT’S THIS RECONSIDERATION?” Stonewall asked as he sat down at the kitchen table with Joy. He didn’t suggest they eat on the terrace because she didn’t know it yet, but he had a table set up out there where he planned to give her a full body massage.

  She glanced across the table at him and smiled. “First, I want to thank you for this. Just look at it.”

  He did, very much aware he’d prepared a lot of food. But he’d had plenty of time on his hands today and had been at the grocery store when he’d texted her. He’d never prepared her a full-course meal and decided to do so. “I don’t expect you’ll eat all of it, but it’ll make delicious leftovers, too,” he said, although he didn’t plan on sending her home anytime soon. At least not before tomorrow morning.

  “I still have ribs and chicken left from the cookout on Saturday. I ate a portion for dinner yesterday and planned to do the same tonight.”

  “Now you won’t.”

  “Well, thanks for going to all the trouble.”

  “No need to thank me, Joy. It was something that I wanted to do.” And it had been. All she had to do was say she needed pampering and he figured a home-cooked meal was the way to start. He’d always enjoyed cooking, but after a while it was much easier to grab something to eat on the run. It had been nice rolling his sleeves up and getting back into the kitchen. It had been especially nice today since he wanted to impress her.

  Impress her...

  When had he ever gone out of his way to impress any woman? Okay, he would admit taking her to Martha’s Vineyard had been to impress her, as well. But then, Joy was someone he didn’t mind impressing.

  They said grace and she quickly began eating, tackling the huge piece of fried chicken breast on her plate. Over dinner she told him about her meeting that day with two of her detectives and the ME.

  “Are you saying that you suspect they weren’t random killings but were set up to look as such?”

  “Right now it’s just a theory, though it seems like a possibility. I have a gut feeling we’re onto something much bigger, although I have no idea what. Tomorrow I’m telling the chief what I suspect. Going back to the crime scene helped, and it raised even more questions in my mind.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Like, why would she have returned to work after leaving for the day? She hadn’t mentioned any plans to do so to any of her staff. According to them she rarely works late.”

  “That would mean if she was the intended target, someone had to know she would be there.”

  “Yes. But who?”

  “What about the pharmacist?”

  “Our investigation indicates it wasn’t unusual for him to work late. If anyone had been canvassing the pharmacy for any period of time to plan a break-in, they would have known that.”

  Stonewall shook his head. “Who would want to shoot a woman, directly in her heart? There has to be a motive.”

  “I agree. We’re obtaining the log of her phone records and talking to her brother sometime this week. Tomorrow is the funeral, and I prefer we not interview him before then.”

  “What a sad thing for anyone to have to go through.”

  “Yes, it is. So what do you think?”

  He appreciated her asking his opinion. “I think you should follow your gut feelings. While locked up I got to know this man who’d been an assassin for hire. A man paid him to kill his wife. To make it look random, he mapped her movements, and one day when she was at the park, he took her out as well as five others.”

  “How did the cops find out the truth?” Joy asked.

  “Someone filmed it on their cell phone. When he was caught he spilled the beans for a lesser sentence and told the cops the husband had hired him. The cops arrested the husband. If the assassin hadn’t gotten caught and fingered the husband, the man would have gotten away with his crime.”

  Joy took a sip of her iced tea before asking, “Why did the man want his wife dead?”

  “He wanted to cash in on her life insurance policy. Nobody, his family or hers, or their friends, had suspected him of anything. In fact, I’m told he played the part of the grieving widower very well.”

  “Some people have sick minds,” she said, pushing away from the table to stand. “I can help with the dishes.”

  He stood, as well. “Later,” he said, knowing he had no intention of letting her help him. “Now I want to pamper you. Come with me.”

  Stonewall took her hand and led her toward the terrace. “I think you’re going to like this.”

  Opening the door, he kept his gaze trained on her face, and from the look that immediately appeared there, he knew she did. He followed her gaze and saw the lit candles all around the terrace and the massage table draped in a white silk sheet. Beside it was a smaller table that held a number of scented lotions and oils. Draped from wall to wall was a swathe of sheer panels that he’d put up himself, and it hadn’t been easy. He’d gotten the idea from watching television earlier that day. Funny how much free time he had these days. And he spent most of it thinking about this woman and about things he wanted to do to her and with her, in and out of bed.

  “Stonewall, it’s simply wonderful. You did this for me?”

  He heard the sounds of awe and amazement in her voice. Had her former fiancé never treated her special like this? If he hadn’t, what a wuss. “I did this for you. You asked me to pamper you and I will.”

  He released her hand and cupped her face. “I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of it.”

  * * *

  JOY WONDERED HOW they’d gotten to this point. When had she ever asked a man to pamper her? When did she begin thinking she needed pampering? She was tough, always. The work she did required it. She didn’t go to work looking like a fashion model. She dressed appropriately since she never knew when she might have to wrestle a criminal to the ground.

  Being around Stonewall made her want to be soft at times. Made her want to have those things she’d missed out on before. Made her want to be pampered, but then, she wanted to pamper him, as well. He was giving her tonight and soon she would give him his night. He was a man any woman would want to be in a serious relationship with. A man who could have his pick of any woman he wanted. Beautiful women. Women who enjoyed looking like fashion models, sexy goddesses, alluring twenty-four hours a day. That kind of woman wasn’t her, so why was he allowing himself to be nothing more than her diversion?

  “I’ll leave you to undress,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “Don’t worry about anyone seeing you out here since my terrace is blocked from the view of other buildings.”

  She glanced around and saw it was. The light from the candles and the way he had the panels draped gave it the effect of a romantic hideaway. She looked back at him. “In that case, you don’t have to leave.”

  Already she was unbuttoning her blouse and knew Stonewall was watching her every move. “Unless, however, you have something better to do,” she said, tossing her blouse aside to remove her bra.

  She saw the flare of heat in his gaze as he continued to watch her. “No, there’s nothing better. I’ll just sit right here,” he said, pulling out the chair from the table. “I’m beginning to feel weak in the knees.�
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  She chuckled as she watched him slide his tall frame into the chair. Nude from the waist up, she leaned down to remove her shoes and socks. She glanced up when she heard the sound of his heavy breathing. “Is anything wrong?”

  He held her gaze as he shook his head. “No, there’s nothing wrong.”

  She nodded as she began sliding her slacks down her legs, followed by a pair of lacy black panties. When she stood there completely naked, she saw how his gaze roamed all over her. “Now what?” she asked, hearing a strain in her own voice.

  “Now you can lie facedown on the table so I can give you a body massage.”

  She nodded. “Have you ever given anyone a massage before?”

  “No, but I figured it can’t be hard to do. The lady at that store was very helpful in giving me tips.”

  “What store?”

  “Wonderful Lady Spa. The one in the Town Center Mall.”

  She was familiar with the place and knew the kind of women who worked there. Young. Beautiful. Curvaceous. Most walked around in those hottie shorts and tops that showed way too much skin. “Yes, I bet she was.”

  Joy ran her gaze over him. He was sitting with his long leg stretched out in front of him with a huge erection pressing hard against his zipper. The erection she definitely couldn’t miss. She would admit for a minute she’d gotten jealous, but now, seeing him aroused and knowing that erection was about her and no other woman tempered the jealousy. Besides, she had no right to be jealous. After all, she and Stonewall were not in a relationship no matter how many times they shared a bed.

  Deciding she was thinking way too much and too hard, she walked over to the table, more than ready to feel his hands on her. She merely glimpsed at the bottles on the small table before climbing the portable steps to get on the massage table to lie facedown. “I didn’t know you owned a massage table,” she said, drawing in a deep breath. Even the silken sheet was scented.

  She could hear him move, and knew that he was moving toward her. “I didn’t before today.”

  Joy lifted her head to look over her shoulder and he was there, standing beside the table. She could actually feel his heat. “You bought a massage table?”

  “Yes. It’s a fold-up table. I figured I could use it again for other things if I wanted to.”

  “Oh.” But still, for him to go out of his way and do all of this for her made her feel special. They had spent the weekend together and today was only Monday. Yet she had awakened wanting to see him and regretted it when he had left her home yesterday. Stonewall Courson was growing on her, and the thought didn’t bother her as it had before.

  “Which do you prefer,” he asked her, “lotion or oil?”

  She thought about his question and then asked one of her own. “Which do you prefer using?”

  “Umm, doesn’t matter. Either way I get to put my hands on you.”

  Desire, hot and sharp, began clawing inside her. “You want that? To put your hands on me?”

  “If only you knew how much.”

  She doubted it was any stronger than her desire to have him put his hands on her. “Then tell me the benefits of each one.”

  “No problem. Like I said, the woman who sold me this stuff was helpful.”

  Joy just bet she was. “And what did she say?”

  “She said the oil would make you feel slippery and smooth.”

  “And the lotion?”

  “It will penetrate into your skin and hey, I’m all in for penetration of any kind.”

  She wished his words didn’t have the ability to make her body throb with a need she couldn’t ignore, but they did. “In that case, I’ll take the lotion.”

  “Good choice. I like the way it smells. Now close your eyes and enjoy.”

  Joy did as she was told, and the moment he uncapped the bottle of lotion, her nostrils were filled with the scent of jasmine. “That’s my favorite scent.”

  “I know, and before you ask how, I couldn’t help but notice it in your bedroom and bathroom.”

  She smiled. “I can get carried away with it at times.”

  “Your home is your place to do whatever you want.”

  Although she couldn’t see him, she could visualize him taking his time to squeeze lotion from the bottle into his hands. Those big, strong, knew-how-to-stroke-a-woman hands. Pretty soon those same hands would be...

  Before she could finish that thought, she felt his hands on her, touching her shoulders, rubbing the lotion onto her skin. He was slowly and meticulously kneading tension out of her and making her feel stress-free. Relaxed.

  He needed to talk or else she would fall into a state of utopia. His hands moving across her shoulders felt so good. “Thanks to Whit, people around the office think you’re my boyfriend.”

  “Do they?”

  “Umm.” His hands had moved down from her shoulders, lower to her spine.

  “And what did you have to say about that?”

  “I told them you were. No need to explain anything to anyone, right?”

  “Yes, no need.”

  She felt his hands move lower to her backside as he continued to rub lotion into her skin. She let out a moan and then another when he began stroking the cheeks of her bottom.

  “If you keep making that sound, I’ll be tempted to...”

  “...do what?” she coaxed. She had an idea but wanted him to tell her.

  “Let’s finish your massage first and then I’ll show you.”

  He continued to knead her skin and she continued to moan. Not to tempt him but because she just couldn’t help it. His hands were making her feel so good.

  “Your skin always felt soft to my touch, Joy. Now it feels softer. And you have beautiful skin.”

  “Thank you.” And he had a wonderful touch. She had discovered that the first night in her home when they’d made love and he’d touched her all over.

  “Now I need you to flip over on your back.”

  She shifted from her stomach to her back and stared up into his eyes. He broke eye contact to roam his gaze over her body. He returned his gaze to hers and asked, “Have I told you what a beautiful body you have?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m telling you again. You have a beautiful body, Joy.”

  “Thank you.” He could say some of the nicest things. She decided then and there not to compare Stonewall to Omar. Stonewall was in a class by himself and didn’t deserved any comparison.

  “And your breasts...”

  She saw how he was looking at them. No doubt he was seeing how the nipples were responding to his close scrutiny. Hardening before his very eyes. “Yes? What about my breasts?”

  “They’re perfect.”

  He’d told her that the last few times they were together, and she knew she would never tire of the compliment. Although she thought he was stretching it a bit.

  Joy watched as he picked up the lotion bottle and squeezed some into his hands. She thought he would start with her breasts, but he smoothed the lotion on her stomach instead. Frissons of fire raced through her when she felt the intensity of his touch. He glided his hand from one side of her abdomen to the other. Her breathing quickened as if she was about to draw her last breath.

  “Your breasts are tempting me, Joy,” he whispered, and she heard the urgency in his voice.

  “Tempting you in what way?” She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she couldn’t stop herself from doing so.

  “This way.” And then he leaned down and sucked a budded nipple between his lips and immediately began laving it with his tongue.

  “Stonewall!”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re supposed to pamper me, not torture me.”

  He lifted his mouth and held her gaze. “You want me to stop?”
/>   The answer was easy yet came out in a shaky breath. “No.”

  He smiled and lowered his head to her pert nipple again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  STONEWALL WAS CONVINCED that Joy was the most sensuous woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Definitely the most sensuous one he’d ever kissed or tasted. And he couldn’t get enough of doing either. Every time he put his mouth on her, tasted the richness of her skin, he was driven to want more. That’s why he lowered his head back to her breasts to kiss each one openmouthed before easing a nipple between his lips. He loved the feel of the nipple swelling inside his mouth.

  He felt a twitch in his fingers and knew why. They wanted to stroke a part of her, a part he couldn’t deny them because he wanted the feel of her on his fingers, as well. Moving his hand from her stomach, he began inching it lower until he reached the area between her legs. Parting the womanly folds of her feminine mound, he inhaled her seductive scent. A combination of jasmine and Joy.

  At that moment he couldn’t help but recall when he’d first tasted her there. He was convinced that after the first intimate kiss between her legs, his taste buds hadn’t been the same. He could remember her taste no matter what he was eating. Whether it was drinking coffee or consuming one of his grandmother’s tastiest desserts. Her taste was simply Joy. There was no other way to describe it. The thought of tasting her again made every nerve in his body sizzle. Joy tasted of honeyed richness, and Stonewall was convinced he was addicted to her flavor. That was why at some of the oddest times he would actually yearn for her essence.

  Like now.

  Pulling his mouth away from her breast, he stared at her face and met her gaze. Her desire-glazed eyes staring back at him made blood pump fast and furious through his veins. He licked his lips, letting her know he was getting them ready for what he thought of as a very tasty meal.

  “Stonewall.”

  His name was whispered in a way that made his erection harden even more. He could feel her getting wetter beneath his fingers. Wanting her to know how much he was anticipating laving the very essence of her, he removed his hand from between her legs to bring the fingers to his mouth and lick her juices off them.