Bayou Heat (11 page)

“Yes,” she whispered back, finally. “It will be enough.” And when he took over the
kiss this time, she knew that she lied.

His mouth possessed her in a way that made her feel cherished, needed, owned body
and soul. No, this wasn’t going to be enough. She wanted all of that for real.

But she’d take this.

He was glorious. She moved his shirt higher, until he stripped it off with an almost
violent yank. It made the gentle way in which he took her back into his arms almost
heartbreaking.

She pressed her mouth to his stubbled jaw. It felt good, sharp, alive against the
softness of her lips.

She buried her nose in his neck, tasting the light
tang of salt while she breathed in the scent of the summer heat on his skin.

She pushed him gently and after a moment he released his tight hold. As slowly as
she was able, she looked at him, from the strong legs still encased in weathered jeans,
over the flat belly and up to the chest she’d tasted and touched. She studied his
hands, the long strong fingers and broad palms, and shivered at the idea of them touching,
holding, all of her. Her gaze traveled over muscled forearms and biceps to his broad
shoulders, to his neck, then along his jawline. She paused on his mouth. Those wide
sensual lips. Another shiver raced over her and she lifted her hands to cup her breasts
without even being aware of it.

His low growl jerked her gaze to his eyes.

Black fire. That’s what they were now.

“
Mon dieu
, you are trying to kill me,
ange
.”

She trembled to hear his need for her.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. He stepped up against her, covering her hands with his
own. She gasped, the intensity of the pleasure he took in her actions immediately
erasing any embarrassment she might have felt.

When he molded his hands to hers, manipulating her nipples with her own fingers under
his, she thought she might explode from the wild, aching pleasure of it.

She moaned, swaying into the joint pressure of their hands.

“
Mais yeah, chèr
. Just like that. We feel so good on your skin.” He spread her fingers, then bent
his head and touched the tip of his tongue to one nipple.

A short soft scream escaped her mouth before she bit her bottom lip to keep her mouth
shut.

Teague immediately lifted his head, kissed her lips apart.

“No, don’t hold back. Release, Erin. Let go. I’ll catch you,
ange
.”

She took in several steadying breaths.

“What about you, Teague? Do you ever let go?”

He took a heartbeat too long to cover his surprise.

“You can let go here,
chèr
. With me.” She leaned down and ran her tongue over his nipple, making him gasp and
shiver at the unexpected act.

His hands gripped her shoulders and she lifted her gaze back to his. “You don’t know
what you’re asking.”

A slow smile crossed her face. Again he was unguarded before her.

“Afraid of me,
mon cajin?
”

The fierce light in his eyes was devastating. “Terrified.” He took her hands and laid
them on his chest. “But go ahead. Scare me, chèr.” He took a short deep kiss, his
tongue pushing hard and fast in her mouth. In and gone, like the thief she’d once
accused him of being. “We might just catch each other before this is all over.”

His boldly delivered challenge was all it took. Erin kissed him hard, then pushed
him backward until he came up hard against the wall by the bathroom door.

So he wanted to play. The idea of playing with Teague Comeaux was tremendously appealing.
And arousing.

It was also about the only level of emotional honesty
she could deal with right now. Uninhibited by her nudity—her body was the easiest
thing to reveal to him—she wanted only to get him as naked as she was.

She let her hands fall to the waistband of his jeans. His smile broadened.

“
Mais yeah, chèr
. You want I should help you with that?”

She shook her head. “No, I think I can handle it.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I’m counting on that, chèr.”

She pulled at the snap and kept tugging until the zipper slid down an inch or so.
Oh my
. She swallowed hard. “Dressed in a hurry did we?”

“Something like that.”

Between the hot night air slowly filling the room, and the heat coming off his body,
Erin felt trapped in a sensual steam bath. She felt the perspiration slide down her
throat and between her breasts and lifted a hand to wipe it away.

Teague caught her hand in his. “I have an idea. Come on.” He pulled her with him into
the bathroom, and flipped off the harsh light, casting them instantly in moonlit shadows.

“What are we doing?”

He turned her into his arms. “I owe you a shower.”

“I have bathed, you know.”

“Yeah,
ange
, but you haven’t bathed with me.”

The moan slipped out without warning.

His groan echoed hers. “Oh
chèr
, I do like it when you do that.”

“What?”

“Respond to me without thinking.” He tugged on
her waist before she could respond. “Come on, let’s get wet.”

He let her go long enough to turn on the water and draw the curtain. He looked up
at her. “Hot or cold?”

“Moderate.”

He stood and pulled her against him so swiftly she lost her breath. He stole what
was left with a deep, slow kiss. When he had her moaning against his mouth, he lifted
his lips from hers. “Nothing in moderation with us,
chèr
.”

Erin felt herself sinking deeper into the promise of pure, unadulterated pleasure
he offered. “Then hot it is.”

Steam filled the room, but her slick skin made her feel erotic, sensual. She watched
Teague’s skin take on a sexy sheen as he bent to shuck his jeans.

She lifted her hand instinctively, then halted.

He paused, his waistband open and around his hips. “What?”

She shook her head.

“Tell me. No thinking, Erin. Just react.”

“Don’t take them off yet.”

He dropped his hands and straightened. “Okay.” Erin had never felt such power, such
confidence. She wanted to share it.

She slid open the curtain and stepped into the tub. He caught her elbow to help her
maintain her balance.

She turned and crooked her finger. “Come on, come on,
ange
.”

Without so much as a heartbeat of a pause, he got in after her, sliding the curtain
closed behind him.

“These aren’t going to come off easy now,” he said.

She slid her hands around his waist. He felt so good she shivered. “Nothing good comes
easy,” she murmured against the skin below his ear, then nibbled her way down to his
shoulder.

He clutched her closer to him, moving his hips against her. “Keep doing that and I
wouldn’t bet on that right now,
chèr
.”

Erin slid her hands down, pushing at his wet jeans. Her hand hit something hard in
the back pocket. It took a second for it to register, but when it did, her hands stilled.

“What’s the matter?” he said against her wet hair.

The shower might as well have turned to a sheet of ice. She stiffened and pulled away
from him. “I’d appreciate it if you would climb out of the shower. Be careful not
to get your back pockets any wetter than they already are if you can help it. I’m
not sure if I made copies of those tapes yet.”

Not caring if the floor flooded, she yanked open the curtain and clambered out of
the tub.

“Erin, wait.”

Staying out of his reach, she turned off the shower then grabbed a towel from the
rack. Teague took a moment to climb out after her. Even half-wet, his jeans were a
hindrance.

She flipped on the light, the unkind brightness a harsh reminder of just how far she’d
gone in ignoring her responsibilities.

To the people funding her. To her father.

To herself.

But for once you were doing something just for yourself, the real you
, a little voice beckoned.
And it felt damn good
.

The idea that this was all there was to being Erin McClure made her stomach clench.
No. She knew better now. But knowing there was more, and that she couldn’t have it,
didn’t exactly improve her mood.

Still, she didn’t dare look at Teague. She wasn’t any more immune to him angry than
she was aroused … and she was both. She also knew better than to let him get even
a toehold in the confrontation they were about to have.

Wrapping the towel tightly around her, she spied her opened tote bags on the sink.
She grabbed them, and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving the door open behind her.

“Just leave the tapes on the towel shelf.”

He followed her, heedless of the mess he was making on the floor. He wedged his hand
in his back pocket and pulled out the tapes. “Here.”

She took them, wiped them on her towel, and dropped them in her bag without looking
at them. “Thanks. Please go, now.”

He stepped closer. “Thanks. Please. So polite, Erin? To your
voleur?
Your thief?”

“Except for being my guide, you’re not ‘my’ anything. I’d like it if you would go.”

He took another step. “You’d like it if we were finishing what we started in the shower.”
He stopped right in front of her, all big, wet, and aroused.

He was right, damn him.

“What I’d like and what I’m going to do are two
different things. I’m sorry, but being reminded you were here to steal from me sort
of killed the mood, you know?” Her breathing was way too fast. She had no doubt he
knew just how turned on she still was.

“I had to check the tapes, Erin. I’d have returned them.”

“Why? Belisaire? Or because there is something on there that could incriminate you?”
The accusation was finally put out between them.

She’d expected him to look angry or guilty. Nothing at all.

But hurt? No. Not once would it have occurred to her she could hurt him.

The resignation that quickly followed tore at her even more deeply. How many times
had people not had faith in him? And why?

“I have my reasons, Erin. One was to protect you.” She snorted, her empathy for him
quickly dissolving.

He raised his hand to touch her, but when she flinched he dropped it, then looked
away. She tightened her grip on her towel to stop herself from doing something stupid.
Like reaching for him.

“But you’re right, that wasn’t my main motivation in coming here tonight.” He looked
back to her. “There are things going on here you know nothing about, Erin. And I’m
not about to enlighten you. For everyone’s good. Just do your research and leave the
rest of it to me.”

“It’s none of my business, right?” “Something like that.”

She studied him for a long moment. Just what was really happening in the bayou? And
what was his role? She shook off the questions. He was right. “Fine. I don’t want
to do anything to jeopardize my research either. But there is one thing I want to
make clear. I’ll trust that you know how to handle things down in Bayou Bruneaux,
but the next time you have something you want from me, ask me.”

“Be careful what you ask for, Erin.” With no more than a handful of softly spoken
words and a look, arousal returned full force.

He moved closer. “Are we done arguing for now?” For now. Implying they would again.
Implying there would be other kinds of activities they would do together again. And
again. “I think you’d better go, Teague.”

“And I think you think too much.”

“Teague—”

“I’ll go.” But just as she let out a sigh of relief, he closed the distance between
them and took her face in his hands. “But you’re going to deal with this, Erin. With
me. If not tonight, then tomorrow. Or the next night. Or the next morning.” He rubbed
his thumb over her lips, then pressed it inside. “Taste me again, Erin. I want more.”
He slid his thumb out and replaced it with his mouth. His kiss was intoxicating. When
he lifted his head his breathing was as erratic as hers. She marveled she was still
able to stand.

“What are you doing to me, Teague Comeaux?” she whispered.

“Not a fraction of what I want to do, Dr. Erin McClure.”

“But we shouldn’t, we aren’t—”

He stopped her with another kiss. She groaned and clutched at his arms for support
as she returned it with everything she felt, her confusion, her arousal, her need.

When they broke apart this time he released her altogether. She swayed but held her
own. He didn’t look any steadier than she did. It was little reassurance. Very little.

“Yes, we are.” His voice was raw. “And we will. Oh yes,
mon chèr
, we most definitely will.”

He walked to the bathroom. She saw him collect his shirt and shoes and ease silently
out the French doors. A black panther sliding back into his milieu. The dark, hot
night.

“Teague.”

He turned at the last second, one hand gripping the doorframe so tightly she saw his
bicep muscle jump. He said nothing, simply stared at her.

“Why?”

He held her gaze for what felt like eternity before finally answering. “Because you’re
good for me, Erin. And I never do what’s good for
me
. Just this once, I want to. With you.”

Then he was gone, leaving her to deal with the naked truth of his words. And the fact
that she felt exactly as he did.

Erin felt the heat the instant she opened the door to her apartment. She stopped the
inward motion of the door and rested her head against it. She’d left the air-conditioning
on high. So that meant only one thing. Teague was here.

It had been ten days since he slipped off her balcony into the night. She hadn’t seen
or heard from him since.

Taking in a deep steadying breath—which did absolutely nothing to calm her suddenly
racing pulse—she pushed the door open the rest of the way.

Without looking in the bathroom or balcony, she knew instantly he wasn’t there. She
didn’t feel him. Purposely ignoring that unsettling thought, she moved to the window
unit. Maybe the thing had finally caved in to the overwhelming forces of nature. But
it was humming just fine.