Backlash Tender Trap Aftermath - Lisa Jackson Page 0,52

wanting her, the years he’d wished she had warmed his bed.

Smiling, Tessa would toss her head back, moaning softly, her hair floating around her as he gently parted her thighs, teasing that special little bud until she was writhing and wrapping her arms around his neck, dragging him into the water with her, begging him to make love to her and never stop.

A quiet rap on the door startled him. He had to stretch his legs and shift on his buttocks to ease the swelling that pressed hard against his jeans. “What?” Damn, but his voice sounded unnatural and husky.

Tessa pushed the door open and poked her head inside. Her fingers were wrapped around the edge of the wood, but she didn’t enter. Denver used every ounce of control he possessed not to fly out of the chair and tear that silky pink wrapper off her body. Seeing the wet strands of her hair, knowing how soft and yielding her flesh was beneath the quickly donned robe, he could think of nothing more than giving in to the sweet temptation she was so innocently offering.

“I just wanted to warn you that we’re out of hot water—I’ll have the element on the tank checked in the morning.”

“Thanks,” he said, hoping to appear busy as he leaned over the desk. Then, unable to resist, he flashed her a lazy smile as he glanced up at her. “I think if I take a shower tonight, it should be cold, don’t you?”

“Whatever you want.” But she smiled.

He propped both elbows on the desk and rotated his pen between his hands. “What I want has nothing to do with the temperature of the water around here.”

“Oh.” She bit her lower lip and seemed about to leave when a mischievous light sparkled in her eyes. “Does this mean I should lock my door tonight?”

“Don’t tease me, Tessa,” he warned with a wicked grin.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, chuckling, her lips curving softly.

Denver’s throat tightened and the heat in his loins grew. What was she doing here, flirting so outrageously with him? “It’s a good thing I’m a gentleman,” he said gruffly, and she had the audacity and lack of common sense to laugh, a merry tinkling sound in the old, creaky house.

“You? A gentleman? You couldn’t prove it by me,” she quipped before ducking back through the doorway.

Denver couldn’t stop himself. Feeling as if he were seven years younger, he was on his feet in an instant. He fairly flew across the room, yanking open the door so hard it crashed against the wall and hearing Tessa’s laughter ring through the house, he saw just the hem of her wrapper as she hurried up the stairs.

Knowing he was going to hate himself later, he took the steps two at a time and landed on the second floor just in time to hear a door close and a lock click soundly. So she thought she could tease him and get away with it, did she? he thought, smiling inwardly.

At the door to his parents’ room, he knocked softly.

“Go away,” Tessa said, but she couldn’t stop the giggles that erupted from her throat.

“Open up.”

“No way.” She backed across the room.

“Do I have to break it down?”

“Don’t be silly—”

His foot crashed into the door and she laughed. “Denver, don’t—this is crazy. Be reasonable—”

Bang! The door wobbled, and he gave it one last shot, the wood splintering away from the casing as his boot crashed against it. His eyes gleamed, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Reasonable?” he repeated. “The original, ‘insufferable, arrogant bastard’—wasn’t that what you called me?”

“You deserved it.”

“That and more, I suspect,” he admitted, still smiling. Surveying the damage to the door, he asked, “Did you really think you could lock me out?” His voice was low and seductive, but his eyes crinkled at the corners.

Tessa swallowed hard. The backs of her calves met the mattress. “I—I didn’t think I’d have to.” He was teasing, she could see the amusement in his gaze. But, despite the playful glimmer in his eyes, his jaw was rock hard, the cords in his neck visible.

He took a step into the room, his silhouette dark against the light in the hall. His gaze slid slowly from her face to her throat and the wet ringlets that coiled at her neck, then to the delicate circle of bones at the base of her throat, and lower still.

Tessa’s nipples hardened, thrusting against the thin wrapper, visible in the