Call to Honor

by Tawny Weber

  Harper curled her fingers around the rigid hardness of his bicep. She knew she couldn’t circle the impressive muscles. But, dammit, she needed something to hold on to.

  Breath shaky with need and her body turning into a puddle of sensations, she could only whimper when he slowly pulled his mouth from hers.

  She could barely think. She could only stare into those intense, dark eyes, watching and wondering what he was thinking. Wishing he’d kiss her again.

  More, she wanted to beg. So much more. But she couldn’t find her voice.

  Just as well, she realized as a few of her brain cells reengaged. She’d feel like an idiot saying that aloud.

  Admitting need aloud.

  “Look, that probably wasn’t a very good idea.”

  Well, that cleared her head. Harper blinked away the lust from her vision to study Diego’s face. She could see the echo of his words in his eyes.

  She frowned. It was one thing for her to have doubts, but she didn’t like knowing he had them, too.

  “Why not? Unless you’re actually in some sort of committed relationship with another person, which would definitely put you off-limits,” she conceded with a wave of her hand.

  “Of course I’m not. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I was,” he grumbled, looking so offended that she had to smile. He wasn’t the kind of man who’d lie or cheat.

  She’d had no idea how sexy that was. How attracted she could be to the idea of honor in a man.

  “Are you not attracted to me? Is that why you don’t like the idea?” Not exactly a pleasant thought, but she’d rather face the truth now and spend the next two weeks bandaging her ego.

  “You’re kidding, right? You’re hot enough to melt glass, babe. I could be deaf, dumb and blind, and I’d still be attracted to you.”

  Oh, my.

  Those words trembled through Harper’s body, stirring delight and passion and the sort of excitement she’d never felt before. The sort that guaranteed more pleasure than she’d ever felt before. The sort that promised more than just orgasms.

  And he thought she was going to let it go without a fight?

  “Then what’s your reason?” She arched her brow at his silence. “I think I deserve to know.”

  “I’m not a relationship kind of guy,” he said. Apology and warning mingled together, overlaying the implacableness of his tone.

  “That works. I’m not interested in a relationship.” God forbid. Having her life turned inside out once was enough.

  Apparently Diego wasn’t buying that.

  “You trying to tell me you’re a one-night-stand type of woman?” he scoffed.

  No. But given that she didn’t know whether telling him that would hurt her chances of getting lost in the naked distraction of his body, she kept her mouth shut.

  Instead she slid her finger along that rigid bicep, over the sleeve of his faded black T-shirt, then under it to skim the warm flesh. Wishing she knew what was going on beneath that inscrutable expression of his, Harper shifted her fingers to scrape gently with her nails.

  His eyes flashed.

  Mmm, that worked.

  It worked well enough that he grabbed her hand.

  “I’m serious about not being here for a relationship. I’ve got nothing to offer, including time.” In case she didn’t get that, he added, “I’ll be leaving soon. Could be in a week, no more than two.”

  From the look on his face, even that long was unlikely.

  “I’m not open to more than two.” Since honesty had gotten her this far, she figured she might as well keep using it. “If we do this, whatever you want to call it. However hot, however awesome, in two weeks my son is home. Whatever happens—” she wiggled the fingers of her free hand between their bodies “—it ends when Nathan gets home.”

  “And you’re not going to change your mind after a few nights of the best sex you’ve ever had?” His words were light, but the easy conviction on his face assured her that he wasn’t just boasting. “You’re not going to want to keep on having it? To see if it’s enough to build into something more?”

  Something more? Like a relationship? That mythical Happy Ever After? She’d long ago given up believing in fairy tales. So it was with complete assurance and a personal vow to never go back on her word that Harper leaned forward to tap her finger against the full temptation of his mouth and make her promise.

  “Not even if you’re a god in bed, not even if you fall head over heels in love with me.” She kept her gaze steady but let slip a hint of a teasing smile.

  Then she waited, breath tight. His stare was intense, deep and mysterious as he studied her.

  As she wondered how he could be even more appealing like this, with his expression unreadable and his eyes cool, he reached out again. Instead of tangling in her hair this time, his fingers skimmed along her jaw. He cupped it in his hand, leaving his thumb free to rub over her mouth.

  It was calloused and just a little rough, a sensual contrast to the soft fullness of her bottom lip.

  Harper almost purred.

  “So you’re looking for, what? A little sexy distraction while your son is away? A diversion to keep you from thinking about missing your kid? No strings, no expectations, just sex?”

  She almost said yes.

  Actually, with him touching her like that, she was pretty sure she’d say yes to anything. But while she wouldn’t let her past make her decisions for her, she wasn’t going to ignore its hard-learned lessons, either.

  “I do have expectations,” she admitted, trembling a little at the sensation of her words vibrating against his thumb. “I expect to be treated with respect and honesty. I won’t...can’t do less. I can trust you for that, though, can’t I?”

  Not that she was really worried.

  Unable to resist touching, exploring, Harper skimmed her fingers along his chest, reveling in the hard planes rippling beneath the soft cotton.

  No. She wasn’t worried. Not about this.

  If she’d learned nothing over the last eight years, she’d learned to trust her instincts. They said that she could trust Diego.

  That he was an honorable man.

  * * *

  DAMN IT ALL TO HELL.

  She’d had to push the trust button? Diego wanted to groan his frustration. Why’d she go and do that? Hadn’t sexy temptation been enough?

  Now, even as Harper’s fingers took a teasing walk down his chest, Diego was walking along the edge of danger zone.

  He’d walked it often enough in various guises to know the signs. His senses were on full alert. His body tense, adrenaline surging in a dozen directions. His mind blank, clear, waiting to assess the risks, to develop the best strategy to get through the situation with minimal damage.

  He wasn’t a spy. Special ops weren’t maneuvered between the sheets.

  But he had his orders.

  Stay on her good side, make nice and get as much information as possible.

  And he had his body’s orders.

  Go for the pleasure today because chances were, tomorrow would bring pain.

  His mind screamed at him to make his excuses and leave. Every second he stayed played to the odds of him giving in to need, going for pleasure.

  Diego fought the internal struggle between those orders, his own clamoring needs and his mind’s warnings. Maybe there was some third-date rule that he could invoke here, something that would keep his pants on.

  “I want you.” Harper’s words were a quiet caress that slid under his skin. Her fingers traced a silken path down his bicep, so light they almost tickled his forearm before she meshed them over his. “You can tell me that you don’t want me. We can write this off as a nice evening and go back to being temporary neighbors.” Her shrug said she’d be fine with that.

 
But the look in her eyes, the depths of the vulnerability he saw there, said different.

  Diego gave up playing the gentleman. It wasn’t a familiar role and definitely didn’t fit. He’d always been better at being bad.

  He turned his hand so their fingers entwined, palm to palm, taking a moment to delight in how delicate her hand was compared with his. Then his eyes met hers.

  “I won’t lie to you.” That didn’t mean he’d tell her everything—or anything, really—but he’d never straight-up lie to her face. Something he was starting to think Ramsey had done on a regular basis.

  “What will you do to me?”

  His smile turned wicked. “Let’s find out.”

  He took her mouth, breathing in her flavor like it was air. Afraid he needed it just as much.

  He started by sipping. By dipping his tongue into the well of honey and tasting. Testing.

  She was so sweet. Heady. Her tongue swept over his, welcoming him into the dance. Tempting. Her fingers dug into his biceps, gripping as if she were afraid that otherwise she’d fall. Addicting.

  Diego took the kiss deeper. His tongue plunged, sweeping through the wet heat of her mouth. His teeth scraped and tugged. She met every move with one of her own.

  That she didn’t even hesitate was even sexier than the rich flavor coating his tongue. Each time he plunged his tongue into her mouth, she sucked it in deeper. Each time he changed his angle, she did, too.

  He cupped her breasts, his palms sliding over the cool fabric of her dress as he weighed their fullness. His blood pounded hard and fast, heading south to fill his throbbing dick with need. His heart pulsed in time with the flexing of his fingers as he gripped her breasts, molding the soft flesh to fill his hands.

  Damn, she was delicious.

  He shifted, angling so he trapped her body between his and the couch. He took a moment to enjoy the view, her blond hair splayed over the rich leather, that pale skin flushed with desire. Her lips were wet, pouting and bruised from his mouth, and her eyes filled with slumberous need.

  Need he was happy to answer.

  This time the kiss went wild. Tongues dueled, lips crushed, teeth snapped.

  Hard enough to rip through his jeans, his dick throbbed against her thigh. Every move—his and hers—was a lesson in painful pleasure. He pressed harder, wedging his thigh between her legs.

  He knew his actions, his voracious need, might scare Harper. A part of him hoped it did.

  So he didn’t bother tempering the fever of his need.

  Instead, he took.

  He tucked his fingers under the top of her dress, pressing deeper so his knuckles rubbed the hardened nipples. Her gasp was a fast whip of air over his mouth as she arched her back to press her breasts tighter against his teasing fingers.

  Damn, she was responsive. Deliciously responsive.

  He slid a series of wet kisses over her cheek, along her jaw. He stopped for a brief second to nip at her earlobe before moving on.

  Shit.

  “No condom,” he realized, his words a groan of frustration against her throat. He steeled himself, pressed one hand on either side of her head, then forced himself to push away.

  His smile fell somewhere between wicked delight at the sight of her—so tousled and flushed with her eyes filled with desire—and relief. He’d never figured a missing raincoat could save his virtue. So to speak.

  Even as he tried to bullshit himself into believing that, he saw the small gold foil packet Harper was holding between her fingers.

  “Check you out.” The relief faded in a blast of heat, because who the hell cared about virtue when sex was on the line?

  “I was den mother to Nathan’s Cub Scout troop,” she said, her smile wide and soft, a strong contrast to the hot desire in her eyes as they roamed his face. “I was lousy at the camping stuff, but I rocked at being prepared.”

  “Babe, you might think you’re ready.” He leaned down, his lips rubbing over hers in a gentle caress before he nipped—just hard enough to make her gasp. “But you have no idea what I’m bringing your way.”

  He didn’t notice her hand leave his waist, but it sure as hell caught his attention when she reached between them to cup it over the throbbing length of his erection.

  “I think I know what you’re bringing my way.” This time it was Harper who nipped at his lip. She soothed the tiny hurt with her tongue. Diego groaned and swore he felt his dick groan right along with him. “And I’m ready. So why don’t you give it to me?”

  That was all it took.

  His brain shut off. Instincts took over—passion-fueled instincts. The kind of instincts that pushed him to grab cloth, to tear it away. The sound of the tearing fabric, of her breathy gasp, was almost as erotic as the view.

  Her breasts were full and heavy. Her cream lace bra covered but didn’t hide the milky-white flesh or the large raspberry nipples.

  For all her sexual energy and welcoming moves, she was damn near innocent. He should remember that. He should take it slow. Ease her into bed with soft moves and sweet words. But as he met her eyes, he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  His.

  That was his only thought as he took her mouth. The kiss was too hot and much too intense to worry about things like delicate emotions or old-fashioned courting methods.

  Hell, no.

  He wanted.

  She was willing.

  He was taking.

  His finger slipped under the delicate strap, sliding up and down between the lacy fabric and her silken skin. He took each pass a little lower, each slide bringing his finger closer to that full breast.

  He slipped the strap all the way off her shoulder with his teeth, licked his tongue over her flesh.

  She was delicious.

  Like a man falling off a steep cliff, he grasped for one last toehold on sanity. For all her willingness to get naked, he had the feeling that this first time, they’d better take it to a bed.

  He licked his way up her chest, along the side of her throat, took her mouth. As she welcomed his kiss, he scooped her into his arms and straightened. Her fingers teased and scraped along the side of his neck as he headed up the stairs.

  He hit the landing, ready to drop and take her there, but he started to turn instead. At the last second, he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to know her house this well.

  “Bedroom?” he murmured against her mouth.

  “That way,” she said, tilting her head toward the left. Her eyes were still closed so that her lashes left fringed shadows over the delicate curve of her cheeks.

  He deepened the kiss as he carried her down the hall. Wanting to see her, planning to enjoy every nuance, he used his elbows to flick on the light as he stepped over the threshold.

  His tongue dipped even deeper, sweeping in slow, seductive swirls. She tasted like heaven, and he’d happily walk his way through hell to continue enjoying her response.

  Figuring there was no point in fostering any illusion that he was a gentleman, or even gentle, Diego gave her a little toss so she bounced on the bed.

  She didn’t look shocked. Or disappointed. She looked pleased. Her hair splayed out around her head like sunbeams against the rich copper satin of the pillow, and her eyes gleamed with a satisfying mix of passion, appreciation and curiosity.

  “Welcome to my lair,” she said, her smile much too wicked for a face so innocent.

  A small part of him made note, worried over that fact. But most of him was too busy appreciating the view. She made a damned pretty picture laying there, dress gaping open to highlight a pair of luscious breasts and skirt puddled high on her thighs.

  Thighs he wanted to get between.

  He pressed his palm against her calf, appreciating the muscle tone for a brief second before moving highe
r. Over her knee, along that tight thigh, to the fabric of her dress where it barely covered the peach-colored lace of her panties.

  “I want in,” he breathed.

  “I’ll let you in.” Her fingers flicked his nipples, sending a shaft of sharp heat through Diego’s body. “Just as soon as I get a look at what you’ve got.”

  “Afraid?”

  Her laugh was nearly as sexy as the body laid out beneath him.

  “Why don’t you strip down and show me if I’ve got anything to be afraid of?”

  “My pleasure.’

  And it would be.

  Because the minute he was out of these clothes, he was getting into her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  OH, BABY.

  Harper was lost in the power of the passion coursing through her system, but even that wasn’t enough to distract from her appreciation of Diego’s body.

  Standing at the foot of her bed, his body lit from behind by a soft wash of light and his eyes locked on hers, Diego pulled his T-shirt over his head. It was like watching the sun rise as the faded black fabric slowly peeled away to expose his gold-hued skin. With every inch revealed, her body tightened in anticipation.

  She wanted to ask him about the scar. She wanted to lick the tattoos. But mostly she just wanted to enjoy the moment.

  The sculpted hardness of his chest was covered with a sprinkling of silken hair with nary a curl that trailed a downy path down his belly. That dark shadow emphasized the chiseled perfection of his six-pack, abs so well muscled, so beautiful, that her fingers itched to trace over them. To see if they were as hard as they looked or if there was softness overlying the steel. The brilliant colors of his tattoo stood in stark contrast to the soft gold of his lower belly.

  Diego tossed his shirt aside, the fabric fluttering like a pennant, declaring the games had begun. Then his hands moved to his belt buckle.

  Her mouth was desert dry. Harper thought she could hear the click of her own throat as she tried to swallow. She could hear her heart, roaring in her head. She could hear her breath, coming fast and hot and just a little shaky. She could hear the slide of leather as Diego unhooked his belt, the snick of metal as he unsnapped his jeans.