Leanne Banks - Trouble in High Heels

“What’s your mother like?”

“She’s a hard worker. Always has been. Always had to be.” He muttered the last part under his breath.

“And your father?”

His eyes narrowed, and she saw a dozen emotions come and go in his gaze. “Undependable. Sometimes there, but usually not. Sometimes working, but usually not. It would have been easier if he hadn’t been around at all. Then my mother and brother wouldn’t hope he would come through when he didn’t.”

“Oh,” she said, at a loss.

“Yeah, oh, ” he echoed, meeting her gaze. His facial features were neutral, but the way his hands clenched the steering wheel revealed his anger. “Aren’t you glad you asked?”

“Yes and no,” she said, knowing she was treading on eggshells. “Yes, because it makes me understand you a little better. No, because the subject is obviously a painful one for you.”

“Painful,” he mocked. “You have to give a damn in order to feel pain. I don’t.”

It might have been wiser to let it go at that. There was really no need to disagree with him, but Lori had glimpsed his honesty. She skimmed her fingers down his arm to his still-clenched fingers on the steering wheel. “I think I feel some damn right about here,” she said gently, rubbing the tense tendons in his right hand.

His eyes darkened with an emotion that made her feel a little nervous. She almost retracted her hand and her statement, but she had the odd sensation of playing truth or dare, and if she didn’t take the dare, then he would never respect her. She would Super Glue her lips together before she confessed, but she wanted Jackson ’s respect in a big way.

His right jaw twitched once, twice, and he narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to sustain the anger but was having a tough time. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I’ve never heard anyone suggest that my hands had some damn in them,” he said.

“Well, they do. Look at them,” she said, but his hands were relaxed now. “Okay, well, they did have some damn in them.”

“Sure you didn’t imagine it?”

She dropped her jaw in surprise. “Absolutely not, and you know it. Your hands were-” She broke off when she saw the beginning of a chuckle. He was teasing her. She punched his bicep.

“Ouch!”

“Oh, right,” she said. “Like you barely even felt that. You think you’re so clever.”

He grabbed her hand. “There’s more to you than meets the eye. And what meets the eye is enough to cause trouble,” he said with a sigh and tugged her closer. “I don’t like talking about my father,” he said, his mouth a breath from hers.

The atmosphere changed in an instant. Passion took the place of anger. Her heart slammed against her rib cage.

“If anyone else had said what you did, I would have cut them off right away.”

“Maybe you can’t resist my girlish charm, after all,” she managed in a husky whisper, feeling out of her depth but determined to stay in the water with him.

“We’re in trouble if I can’t,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers, barely touching her lips.

Lori strained to press her mouth more fully against his. Her reaction was so fast and instinctive it took her by surprise. Where was this coming from? Why did she want him?

He groaned. “Just this once,” he muttered and really kissed her, shoving her questions far from her mind. Sliding his hands behind her back, he pulled her against him and devoured her mouth with his. His strength, physical and sexual, made her dizzy. He slid his tongue past her lips and demanded a response from her. She felt her nipples grow taut and her internal temperature ratchet upward.

Echoing his moves, she slid her tongue into his mouth and he gave another groan that vibrated all the way down to her toes. She’d been kissed nearly to the point of no return before, but no one had ever made her feel so hot she was certain steam would rise from her skin.

Something about him made him seem so much more like a man to her. Something about him made her wish she was more experienced so she could make him half as hot as she was.

She rubbed her achy breasts against his chest and he took control of the kiss again, sliding his tongue over hers. She suckled it, drawing him deep into her mouth, and she felt his thumbs brush the sides of her breasts.

More, more, more. She wriggled against him and lifted her hands to slide her fingers through his hair.

She felt his thumb move closer to her nipple and a wild, carnal need ricocheted through her like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. Touch it, touch me.

He moved his thumb away and she couldn’t quite swallow the whimper crowding her throat.

“Oh, you like that,” he muttered against her mouth. “You want more.”

He rubbed his palm over her nipple and she shuddered.

He swore. “I didn’t think you would be this hot.” He French-kissed her again, still rubbing his palm over her breast. “All it takes is a touch and you kiss me like you’d spread your legs and let me take you right here, right now. I bet you’re already wet.”

Lori felt her cheeks heat at his words. He was right. She was wet and wanting, but she didn’t want him to know. It wasn’t fair that he still sounded in control when she was hot and bothered.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled away from him. She cleared her throat. “That was educational. Now that we’ve done that once, we won’t need to do it again.”

He gave a nonchalant nod. “If you can control yourself.”

His attitude nettled her. “I didn’t start it.”

“The way you look at me started it. You look at me like you want to rip my clothes off and indulge your darkest, baddest thoughts.”

“I do not,” she lied. “You have an inflated opinion of yourself, but that’s no surprise. Your arrogance isn’t the least bit seductive.”

“Well, something about me works for you, because you were begging me to kiss you and touch you. You were begging for more.”

“Don’t take it so personal,” she said, feigning a breezy air although she still felt jittery. “It’s been a while for me. I’m going inside to see Virginia.”

Frowning, Jackson watched Lori get out of the car and walk across the rough parking lot. Although she wore jeans, she also wore heels, which were impractical as hell. The heels, however, did things to her gait that kept his gaze fastened to her backside.

He remembered how she’d felt and tasted and grew hard again. Swearing, he adjusted his jeans and narrowed his eyes at the woman who, just minutes ago, had acted like a scorching man-eater determined to consume and be consumed.

Kissing her had been a mistake. Knocked sideways by the strange conversation they’d shared about their families, he’d told himself and her it was just that once.

But now he knew how she felt and tasted. Now he knew she was hotter than black pavement in Dallas in August. He had the unsettling feeling that he’d opened Pandora’s box by kissing her.

She’d seemed cool as a cucumber when she’d stepped out of the car and left him with a lingering whisper of her French-perfumed scent, but the way she’d responded to him made him doubt her easy dismissal of her reaction to him.

“Actions speak louder than words, princess,” he muttered. No matter, he told himself, his arousal finally starting to wane. If she was determined to be Miss Cool, then all the better. As long as she didn’t toss him those I-want-you-now looks, then they would be just fine.

Lori climbed the slanting wooden steps of the large farmhouse. The house needed a new coat of paint and a few repairs, she noticed as she felt a board wiggle beneath her foot. As she approached the screen door, however, she smelled the scent of a fresh-baked pie. She inhaled and closed her eyes. Cinnamon, apples… Eager to see Virginia, she knocked on the door.