Reckless Pleasures

Deciding she was tired of the endless rattle of the air conditioner, not to mention the soggy, barely cold air it coughed out, she’d asked the front office for a fan and more often than not, she also left the door open until it was time to sleep.

She tossed the remote to the bed. “You’re right.”

He pushed from the jamb and came inside. “I’m always right.”

She smiled. “I’d laugh if I didn’t think you believed that.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, near but not touching. “Have I not proven myself and then some yet?”

Strangely, he had. But he was the last one she’d let know that.

She fingered the cell phone again, tilting it to look at the blank display.

When she turned back, she caught Jason watching her, wearing an expression with which she’d become familiar in recent days…and found somewhat disconcerting. If only because it touched some of those itchy places.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking that it must be hard. You know, to be in the middle of this and having Dari so far away and out of contact.”

She looked forward and nodded. “Yeah.”

They sat silently for a few minutes.

The nightly visits had become a ritual of sorts, with one or the other of them showing up at the other’s room for a few minutes of conversation, something to help them relax a bit after official business was taken care of. Megan realized she’d come to look forward to them.

Maybe a little too much.

She slanted him a look. “You know, you don’t have to do this…”

“Do what?”

“Take care of me.”

“Who says I’m doing this for you?”

She laughed. “Right. Isn’t there a barmaid or waitress somewhere you should be chatting up?”

He rubbed his chin and averted his gaze, his self-conscious expression making her throat tighten in awareness.

Uh-oh…

JASON CONSIDERED HER QUESTION and what he’d almost said in response—that lately he wanted no one but her.

He ran his fingers through his hair several times and pushed from the bed. This wasn’t happening. There was no way he was gunning for his best friend’s girl.

Why, then, wasn’t he with the waitress he’d met the other night? She’d slipped him her number with his beer and she’d certainly been a stunner. Just his type with golden-blond hair, lush curves and a smile designed to make any guy think of getting her between the sheets.

But whenever he imagined taking a woman to bed, the only woman he was thinking about was Megan.

Which was crazy. He wasn’t that guy. The one who slept with his best friend’s girl.

He turned around and bumped straight into her, not realizing she’d also gotten up and stood behind him.

She was close. Too close. Their noses were nearly touching.

The first thing he registered was the clean scent of her skin. Just the soft smell of motel soap, no perfume, no flowery lotion.

The next thing he saw was the way she licked her lips anxiously.

Jason groaned deep in his throat.

This…was…not…happening…

“Um, I think I better go,” he managed to grind out, trying not to notice the way the hard tips of her breasts strained against her tank top, skimming the wall of his chest with every shallow breath she took.

“Yeah. That, would, um, be a good idea.”

Neither one of them moved.

Truth was, Jason was afraid to. He was afraid that if he twitched a muscle, it would be to back her up against that bed and down on top of it.

No, she would have to be the one to move first.

Hopefully away from him.

Instead, she stepped in closer.

Christ…

MEGAN CAUGHT HER BREATH. To say she hadn’t known this might happen would make her a liar. She and Jason had been working too closely together over the past ten days for some attraction not to develop.

They probably should have been a little more careful, though.

Of course, she had no way of knowing her power to deny her own fundamental needs would hover somewhere around zero when the moment did occur.

Or accept the possibility that Jason’s would, too…

She swallowed hard, watching his eyes sharpen, much like a black panther that had just caught sight of his mate. His nostrils flared slightly as he tried to drag in air that suddenly seemed scarce in the too-hot room. She could smell his sweat…and, yes, his sex.

She was caught between needing to step away, yet yearning to move closer.

Without realizing that’s what she was going to do, she leaned ever so slightly forward, pressing her open mouth against his in the lightest of kisses. She didn’t expect him to respond. But the instant their lips made contact, she felt a fire ignite in her veins, burning her from the inside out. She wanted him to respond.

Oh, God…

He groaned somewhere deep in his chest and she felt his hands on her upper arms, as if poised to push her away. Instead, he hauled her closer.

Megan caught her breath, unprepared to have him crush his mouth down on hers…or for her welcome of the thought-robbing action.