Maya Banks - Sweet Temptation

He hardened all over again.

She looked up when he entered, but she didn’t move. She simply waited.

He set the tray aside, knowing the sandwiches would keep. In a matter of seconds, he had his jeans off, and he strode toward the bed, eyeing the delectable curve of her ass. He’d take her there later, when he had time to prepare her. For now, he wanted inside her so badly that the need consumed him.

He grasped her ankles and pulled her toward the edge of the bed. When her ass was level with his cock, he cupped her full bottom and lifted and spread, baring her pussy to his advance.

With no work-up, no preamble, he shoved into her, sliding deep into her silken clasp.

He fell forward, his hands slapping the mattress on either side of her body. It wasn’t a time for slow, easy loving. That would come later, when some of the edge was gone. She was a need that fired deep in his blood.

There was desperation to his movements. His hips pumped forward in quick, jerky motions. His hips slapped against her ass with little finesse. It reminded him of a crude, quick fuck. And it was.

No words, no gentle endearments. It shamed him even as pleasure sizzled through his groin and painfully through his dick.

He was getting off quick, and it didn’t really matter if she did or not.

You’re a bastard. You have no business touching her.

It didn’t matter that he’d warned her. He’d been brutally honest with her. She knew what to expect and she’d accepted that. And still, guilt ate away at his gut.

He slammed into her, driving harder as he felt his orgasm flash over him. One ... two more quick, brutal thrusts and he was spilling himself inside her.

As he eased away, his cum smeared over her skin, and it turned him on all over again.

He turned away in disgust, reaching for the tray. He’d turned into an animal. Always, always he’d put a woman’s pleasure above his own. He loved and cherished women, and yet he treated Angelina with contempt almost. All because she claimed to care about him.

His hands shook when he set the tray down on the bed. Angelina slowly got up and walked into the bathroom. When she returned, no accusation reflected in her eyes. No animosity. He could swear they still brimmed with affection and trust.

She crawled onto the bed and sat cross-legged next to him. He handed her a plate but didn’t look at her.

“Do you have the remote?” she asked.

He reached over to the nightstand to get the remote and handed it to her.

They ate in silence, the television covering the awkwardness. She ate the sandwich he’d fixed and periodically switched channels. After the thirteenth channel, he cast her a sideways look.

“I thought guys were the serial flippers?”

She grinned. “Can’t help it. Short attention span. It used to bug the shit out of David. Hannah would leave the room when we started arguing.”

For the first time since Angelina had burst into his well-ordered existence, he didn’t experience a surge of pain when she talked about David and Hannah.

“She never did like arguing. She was a born peacemaker.”

Angelina nodded. “And I was a born hothead. Not sure where I got it. David said our dad was a lot like Hannah. Quiet, reserved. I think David took after him. He was always so even keel. He used to tease me and tell me I got all the Latin genes.”

She put her sandwich down and turned her soft dark eyes on him. “Do you ever see your folks, Micah?”

He recoiled and looked away. Where the hell had that come from? How much did she know about his family anyway? He never talked about them. As far as he was concerned they didn’t exist. His family was David and Hannah, and they were dead.

“No,” he said shortly.

“Why not?” she prompted. “It’s been a long time. David said you hadn’t seen them since you left home all those years ago.”

“Then you have the answer to your question.”

She sighed. “I thought maybe you’d gone to see them after David and Hannah died.”

He turned back to her, his expression hard. “Why would I do that? They aren’t my family, Angel. My family died.”

She frowned unhappily. “What happened with them? Why do you hate them so much?”

His laugh cracked and sounded pretty pathetic. “I don’t hate them. To hate someone you have to feel. I don’t think about them at all. They donated genetic material to me. That’s the extent of the credit I give them in my life.”

“Wow,” she breathed out.

“There won’t ever be any Hallmark make-up moments with them. They stopped existing the moment I walked out of the door when I was eighteen. I’m happy with the arrangement, and I don’t really give a shit whether they are or not.”

“What did they do?” she asked softly.

He shook his head. “That’s been years ago, Angel. No sense dragging it back up. It just doesn’t matter anymore.”

She turned her attention back to the TV and continued flipping the channels until he was ready to snatch the damn remote from her hand and knock her in the head with it.

“You done?” he muttered as he reached for her plate.

“Mmm hmm.”

He gathered the dishes and the tray and trekked downstairs to return everything to the kitchen. When he got back upstairs, Angelina had burrowed under the covers, the remote still firmly in her grasp.

He stripped down to his underwear and stood by the side of the bed.

“If you promise not to knee me in the balls, I’ll ditch the underwear too.”

She looked up and laughed. “Have problems with women being too active in their sleep?”

He grunted as he slipped out of his underwear and climbed into bed.

“You try getting your balls rearranged in the middle of the night. Not a nice way to wake up.”

She giggled and quickly burrowed into his side. She made a sweet sound of contentment and lifted the remote to turn off the TV. Thank God.

“Micah?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Did you, David and Hannah all sleep together? I mean in the same bed?”

He paused. Where the fuck had that come from?

“Angel, honey, you lived with us. Surely you ought to know the answer to that.”

“I never ventured into your part of the house. I was never sure how much you were comfortable with me knowing.”

Micah frowned. “Hannah never talked to you? I mean I thought women dished about pretty much everything.”

“Hannah wasn’t like that. You know how private she was.”

“We had two bedrooms but more often than not, we shared the same one. Sometimes if one of us wanted some private time with Hannah, the other would bunk in the other bedroom for the night.”

“I always thought yours and David’s relationship was pretty special. You were there before Hannah, I mean with David.”

Micah nodded. “I met David right after I left home. Your father had just died and he was taking care of you.”

“Yeah, I remember,” she said softly.

“I met Hannah after we got out of the academy. Since David and I were so close, we all naturally spent a lot of time together. I suspected they had feelings for each other, but both were too honorable to act on them. They were both afraid of hurting me.”

He smiled at the sudden flash of memories.

“It takes a pretty special man to do what you did.”

He shrugged. “It just seemed natural. I never gave it any thought. It never occurred to me to be jealous. If it had been any other man, I would have killed him, but it was David and I knew David would never do anything to betray our friendship.”

He hadn’t realized he was stroking her arm. She was nestled in his arms and his fingers wandered up and down her skin as he remembered the good times. It was nice to be able to think of them without the flood of grief that always came.

“I’m not trying to replace her,” Angelina whispered. “I know how much you loved her.”

Micah pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head. “I know, Angel girl. I know.”

Angelina stirred and stretched against the warmth of Micah’s body. Lazy contentment invaded her limbs, and for a moment she lay there, enjoying the comfort of his arms.

Remembering the events of the night before and the fact she hadn’t had a shower made her roll away and head for the bathroom. She left Micah sound asleep, his other arm thrown carelessly across his pillow.

Moments later she stepped under the hot spray of the shower and closed her eyes in pure ecstasy. Hot water was the cure-all. Wars could be prevented if everyone started the day with a steaming hot shower.

She stood there, letting the water stream over her face, washing away worry, strain, fear and hopelessness. It was a new day.

Eyes still closed, face turned up into the spray, she reached blindly for the bottle of shampoo. A hand gripped her wrist, and she pulled her head back and opened her eyes.

Micah, naked, droplets of water beading on his chest, stepped into the shower with her. He gently lowered her arm back to her waist and retrieved the shampoo himself.

He stepped in behind her and squeezed shampoo into his hand.

“Lean your head back,” he said huskily.

He lathered the shampoo over her hair, working it into her scalp. When he was done, he pressed forward, forcing her underneath the showerhead again.

With the water beating down, rinsing the soap from her hair, he hiked her right leg upward, her knee rubbing against the shower wall.

He positioned his cock at her pussy and thrust forward. The force sent her into the wall, her hands flying up to brace herself.