Leanne Banks: Trouble in High Heels

“Maria?” he interjected.

She nodded. “It’s not fair for him to go away with nothing.”

“Then cover his travel expenses,” he said.

Lori silently met his gaze for a long moment.

“You’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”

She nodded.

Jackson frowned. “He’s taking advantage of you.”

“No, he’s not. It was my idea.” Miserable that Jackson clearly didn’t approve of her, she bit her lip. “I don’t want you to be mad at me,” she whispered.

Jackson closed the distance between them and slid his hand behind her back, tugging her against him. “Your generosity is amazing. I just don’t want you to be hurt by it.”

She snuggled against him, loving the sensation of his body against hers. “Did you think about me at all last night?”

He paused a half beat. “Yeah. I did.”

She looped her arms around the back of his neck and looked up at him. “I thought about you, too, but when I woke up this morning, it almost felt like Vegas had been a dream.”

He paused again and lowered his mouth closer to, but not touching, her lips. “Are you saying you need a reminder that you’re married to me?”

Lori felt an illicit thrill race through her. “I might,” she said, meeting the challenge in his gaze.

“You’re telling me that you can’t remember what we did for two days straight in that hotel room,” he said.

Her heart pounded in her chest. “I didn’t say I didn’t remem-”

“You said it felt like it was a dream,” he said and slid his hands under her bottom and hiked her legs around his waist.

Clinging wildly to him, she glanced over his shoulder as he strode farther into the barn. “Where are we go-”

“To the office,” he said. “So I can remind you that you’re married.”

Lori felt a heady anticipation at his determined stride. He walked into the small office and closed the door behind him. And locked it. “What if someone comes?”

“It’s not likely, but I’ll take that risk,” he said and rubbed his lips against hers. “Will you?”

She swallowed over a lump in her throat. “Yes,” she whispered.

He took her mouth in a possessive, mating, claiming kind of kiss that made her feel dizzy. With the exception of a high, narrow window, the room was dark, making her acutely aware of the sound of his mouth and hers, their breaths, and the sensation of his erection pressed against her, where she was already moist.

Allowing her to slide down his body until she stood, he unfastened her jeans and pulled up her shirt. He tugged it over her head and immediately reached for her breasts. “You feel so good,” he muttered. “Look so good.”

He shoved her jeans down with a barely restrained savageness that thrilled her. There was nothing wishy-washy about every move he made. Suddenly she was naked and vulnerable, but she felt incredibly powerful.

He slid his hand between her legs and found her sweet spot. “This is a reminder,” he said against her lips, kissing between each word. “I am your husband. You are my wife,” he said and slid his finger inside her.

Lori gasped at the primitive nature of his strokes, his words. With trembling hands, she loosened his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down over his large, hard shaft. She stroked the length of him until she felt a drop of his essence. His breath was harsh against her neck. “And you are my husband,” she said, her knees weak from the power of her desire.

“Damn right,” he said and picked her up, backing her against the wall. Lowering her onto him, he let out a hiss of a sigh when she completely enveloped him. She felt so voluptuously full, so… taken.

Thrusting upward, he slid his hand between their bodies to where she was aching and wanting and rubbed her. The combination of his delicious caress and fullness inside her took her to another place, and she cradled his hard jaw with one of her hands and kissed him deeply.

The sensation inside her built with each stroke, each pump.

“Think you’ll remember this?” he asked in a thick, gruff voice.

“Oh.” She felt herself spiral over the edge. “Yesss.”

Heartbeats later, she felt him stiffen and plunge one last soul-searing time.

“Will you remember?” she asked, slipping her arms around him, cradling him against her.

He swore. “I couldn’t forget if I tried. You killed my knees, so I’m going to take us down now.” He slid to the floor, pulling her onto his lap.

She was still breathless, her heart felt like a ping-pong ball, and now he was holding her in his arms. “Is sex always like this?” she couldn’t help asking.

He gave a rough chuckle. “Depends on who your partner is.”

“Why is it like this with us?”

He shook his head. “You’re asking me to explain something as old as time.”

She inhaled and felt her pulse calm just a little. “I want you to like me,” she said.

He met her gaze. “What?”

“I like it that you want me, but I want you to like me, too.”

He paused, then lifted his hand to stroke her hair. “I do. I just feel like I need to watch out for you. You need a reality check sometimes.”

She rubbed her hand over his rough jaw and smiled. “I like the reality check you just gave me.”

“You’re making it hard to keep our marriage a secret,” he warned her.

“Just a little longer,” she said, lifting her mouth to his, enjoying the sensation of his lips and tongue. “I want it between you and me just a little longer.”

Lori awakened to the sensation of Jackson ’s body against hers. She loved his masculine scent. She loved his broad shoulders and the way his strength permeated his body and his mind. She loved being close to him.

She loved… him.

The realization slipped into her consciousness. Her usual arsenal of denial and self-defense must have still been asleep. Lori looked at Jackson ’s face and knew she was in love with him.

How? When? Her lungs squeezed tight, taking her breath away. She’d known she could trust him. She’d known she was attracted to him. She’d known he would watch out for her. She’d also known he would never fall for her.

Crap. So now she’d fallen for her so-called husband, was stuck with him until she was thirty, when they would amicably divorce.

Panic raced through her. How was she going to manage this? How was she going to keep it from him? Because heaven forbid, Jackson would probably just feel sorry for her, and she couldn’t bear that.

Desperate for a moment alone, she rolled over to get up. A large, warm hand snaked around her waist and she closed her eyes. “Where you going?” he asked in a sexy, deep voice.

“I need to take Kenny outside. His bladder won’t wait.”

“Are you coming back?”

“I need to get my shower,” she said, scooting the rest of the way out of bed and pulling on her clothes. “I’ll see you at breakfast. Okay?” she said, more than asked, then raced out the door.

By the time Lori took care of Kenny, tried to wash away her feeling of panic during her morning shower, and arrived in the kitchen, Jackson was drinking his coffee at the breakfast table. Alone.

Darn, she’d hoped for a buffer from someone else this morning. “You beat me down. Have you already eaten?” she asked, picking up an egg biscuit from the warming pan on top of the stove. “Do you want a biscuit?”

“Already had mine,” he said.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she sat across from him at the table. Feeling his gaze on her, she took a bite of the biscuit but found it hard to swallow. She wondered if he could sense a change in her. For such a practical man, Jackson could be incredibly intuitive. Her stomach felt like a jumble of nerves. She wondered if she could hide her feelings. Or would it be useless to try? Would he be able to read the fact that she loved him, as if she were wearing a billboard?