Terms of Desire: Tempt Me Twice, Part One (2 page)

When he leaned over to check the air in his tires I dropped my purse into the dirt. His ass was tight, tight and hard looking, and for the first time in a very long time I found myself wondering what it would be like to touch someone other than my husband.

“Callie.” I jumped, startled, at the touch of a hand on my arm. It was Austin, of course it was Austin, and concern shot out of his grey eyes, eyes that I knew and loved and, God help me, was still attracted to, as he handed me my purse, now coated with a fine layer of dust. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”

“I…” I tried to casually turn my glance back to Mr. Sexy at pump two, so riveted had I become, but he was no longer there, though his truck was. “I’m fine.” I offered my husband, the man that I had forsaken all others for, a bright smile and shook my head to clear it of forbidden images.

Like the one where I slid my tongue over the muscle of the strange man’s hard butt.

“Well, good thing you are, because the car’s not.” Austin rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, which made half of the hair on his head stick straight up.
Frustration was apparent in every line of his body.

“What are you talking about?” The battered blue vehicle looked fine to me, sitting still and silent where we had left it ten minutes earlier.

“The heat gauge is going crazy,” Austin informed me,
and I could feel anger emanating from him. I trembled as he fixed his eyes on me, and wanted to apologize, even though I knew that he wasn’t upset with me.

“I think we hav
e a radiator leak.” H
e smirked
a bit
when I raised an eyebrow blankly. “It means that the rad fluid is leaking out. See that neon green stuff under the car? Rad fluid cools the engine. Otherwise it overheats and can cause some serious damage.”

“I see,” I replied cautiously, because the explanation was simple enough. “What do we do now?” We moved to the hunk of junk vehicle that I had had since my teens, and Austin popped the lid. The inner workings were a smelly, dirty mess to my eyes, but I could concur that it was, indeed, hot under the hood.

“I’ll go call AMA,” he replied, grimacing. And I knew what the grimace was for. We weren’t anywhere near an urban destination, and heaven knew how long it would take to get a truck here. Which meant that
we’d be no better off than we had been in the car, trapped alone with the frustration of not being able to reach one another.

“You folks having car trouble?” I looked up, startled, to see Mr. Sexy crossing the macadam towards us. He looked even better up close, shoulders broad and arms well defined, legs long, hips narrow. The hair on his head was thick and dark, so brown that it was almost black, and startlingly dark eyes peered cautiously at us out of a leanly angled face.

Well, I say us, but really I thought that they were looking at me. Taking my measure. Drinking me in.

“Looks that way.” I was grateful that Austin spoke, for my tongue had become immobilized in my mouth. I stepped backwards, out of the way as the men had a short, testosterone filled conversation that was difficult for me to follow.

But that was okay. I was completely entertained by the spiky edges of the black tattoo that peeked out the shirt sleeve of the man’s button down shirt.

“Excuse me.” I realized that I was in the way after all when I blinked my way out of my reverie and found that same shirt inches in front of my nose. I looked up, way up, to meet the amused stare of the stranger.

“Sorry,” I muttered and looked down at my toes, which was easier than looking at him, because something in those licorice black eyes had my nipples tingling beneath the clinging cotton of my ribbed tank.
Though he had asked me nicely, I felt that if I hadn’t moved, he would have simply picked me up and moved me bodily out of the way.

For some reason, the thought sent a shiver rolling over my skin.

“It’s no bother.” After grabbing a black case from the back of his truck, he leaned over the mysterious innards of our car, and as my eyes, which seemed to have developed a will of their own, returned to the hard planes of his body I realized that we were alone. Austin must have gone to the rest room.

My heart skipped a beat, then began to pump double time. I was drawn to this man with the same intensity with which I had wanted Austin when we first met, a need so painful that I ached.

At the same time, something in those dark eyes scared the hell out of me.

“What’s your name?” I hadn’t meant to ask, but something in me was desperate to possess something, anything of this man before he drove away, though the something that I knew I’d prefer even more shocked my sense of propriety.
I was sure that he was going to find me rude, but he simply grinned, a
slow, predatory curve of his lips
, and removed a cap from a
big black thing under the hood.

“
Brave little one, aren’t you?
My name is Liam. Liam Fraser.” Watching those long fingers as they nimbly nipped at a small cardboard box had heat suffusing my chest and cheeks, and I wished desperately for a bottle of cool water.

As he began to pour a chunky grey stream into the opening he had revealed by what I assumed was the engine, I caught sight of the label on the box. “Is that pepper?” I was slightly horrified, certain that our vehicle was being wrecked.

“
Indeed
.” He chuckled; I imagined he’d seen that reaction before. “See that puddle of neon fluid?” He gestured to the same pool that Austin had shown me only minutes before. When I nodded, he continued. “Contrary to how it may look, that’s not a lot of rad fluid, compared to how much is actually in the car. That means you only have a small leak. Pepper is small enough to be able to still flow through the engine, but big enough to clog the leak. And it doesn’t dissolve like a lot of other powders would. Easiest and cheapest stop gap there is, until you can get it fixed.”

I heard him, was amazed by his knowledge, even as I imagined sliding one of those long fingers into my mouth.

What was the matter with me?

“
And what is your name, pet
?” I watched, fascinated, as he finished pouring, closed the box and set it aside.
The softness of his words did nothing to belie the strength behind him, and my stomach did a slow, uneasy turn.

“Me? I’m Callie.” My tongue darted out to lick at my dry lips. “Callie Mahone. We’re on our way to Montana.” I didn’t mention that the other half of the ‘we’ was my husband, though all Liam would have had to do to find out was to look at my ring finger, where the etched gold band shone brightly.

Liam replaced the cap, twisting it until we both heard the click, then stood and stretched. Reaching for a rag to wipe his now black stained hands on, he smiled at me again, and I was struck dumb by the evenness of those teeth, at the sexy twist of that mouth. I wanted nothing more than to launch myself into his arms, to wrap my legs around his waist and rub my clit against his denim clad cock, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted Austin to come back and save me from myself, or to stay away so that I could do it.

“Well, the car should work for now, Callie Mahone.” I tucked a wisp of hair that had escaped from my ponytail behind my ear and tugged at the hem of my top, which had ridden up at the movement.

“Thanks.” It might have been wishful thinking, but I thought that I saw his eyes drop to the band of naked flesh that was briefly exposed. I shuffled my feet, nervous energy rolling over me in waves. “So… are you a mechanic, or something?”

“Or something,” he agreed, and when I stuck my tongue out in exasperation, he let loose with a deliciously throaty laugh, one that tickled low in my belly. “Actually,
I have varied interests
.
My brother
,
however,
is a mechanic, and he taught me the basics when we were just kids.”

“Which is why you carry a box of ground pepper in your trunk,” I added, smiling despite my nerves.

“Exactly.” The thread of conversation died off, leaving us staring intently into each other’s eyes, black into gold.
Even had I wanted to, I was fairly certain that I wouldn’t be able to look away.

Austin chose that moment to return. “Sorry about that.” His
gaze sharpened as he looked from me to Liam and back again, and nerves rioted throughout my frame.

What was wrong with me, that I was so drawn to someone other than my husband?

I felt dirty and guilty as hell, even though nothing had happened. Hanging my head, I let penitence wash over me before forcing myself to push it away.

I rose my head to find both men staring at me. I couldn’t quite interpret either man’s stare.

Liam turned abruptly, remaining
silent as he tucked the cardboard box of pepper back into the black case that I now assumed was his roadside emergency kit. He was packing up to leave, and I didn’t understand why every cell in my body was screaming, yelling at me to beg him to stay.

Truth be told, it scared me a little. Enough that I took a deliberate step back, far enough away from him that I could no longer smell the masculine tang of his sweat as it mixed with the spicy notes of his aftershave. Far enough away to at least fool myself that nothing had happened here, that our knight in shining armor hadn’t twisted my innards into knots.

I could feel Austin’s presence beside me, and I cringed inwardly, certain that he knew the
traitorous thoughts that were rioting through my head.

He said nothing to me, instead extending a hand to Liam.

A jolt of heat shot through me when the two men clasped hands. My mouth went dry.

“Thank you so much for your help.” Austin extended a hand, and I murmured an assent, reflecting that therein lay the problem. Liam was our knight in shining armor, me and Austin’s. Because of that, I couldn’t express my feelings. Couldn’t slyly slip him my cell number, or ask for one in return. And I really wasn’t sure what to do with the fact that that disappointed me so, to the point that tears were stinging the backs of my eyes.

“Not a problem. Get that car into a shop as soon as you can.” He swung his long body up into the driver’s seat of his truck. “Later.” He nodded at Austin. To me he simply said my name, the two syllables rolling off of his tongue like they’d been dipped in chocolate and he was savoring the taste.

His dark eyes burned with enough intensity as he said my name that I knew I hadn’t imagined it all. He felt the pull too.

I was a disloyal slut.
I chastised myself as I buckled the belt back over my lap, settled my sticky skin against the prickly upholstery of the seat again. I felt tired, listless as Austin gunned the engine and the Crown Vic roared out of the dingy parking lot. And I was slightly pissed off at myself for the extremities of my emotions.

Had my marriage really deteriorated that far? Had it gotten so bad that I was using some stranger, a handsome stranger but a stranger nonetheless to drive a wedge into the gap that already existed between me and Austin?

I couldn’t, I told myself. More so, I wouldn’t. Sneaking a glance at my husband, I reminded myself of how handsome he was. How desirable.
Maybe the romance had faded, maybe he deferred to me a little more often than I liked in recent years, and maybe I questioned him more than
he
cared for.

Fantasy
was normal, wasn’t it? Could even be healthy, if used appropriately. Well, I was worked up and then some right now, thanks to sexy Liam with the tattoo around his hard arm. Why couldn’t, indeed, why shouldn’t I transfer some of that excitement to my husband?

Keeping our earlier debacle in mind, I kept my hands to myself. Instead I began to inch the soft cotton of my tank up, bit by bit, exposing skin for Austin to look at, to lust over.

He didn’t notice. I coughed and raised my top higher, offering a view of my braless breasts, small but firm. Austin glanced over, did a double take and swore.

“Dammit, Callie! Why do you always do this when I can’t do anything about it? You never do when we’re alone. Always creating a barrier. Do you even want to have sex with me anymore?”

“I do too do it when we’re alone!” I retorted sharply, before realizing that his outburst had startled me, hitting a little too close to home. Was he that frustrated as well?

“Name one time in the last six months.”
His voice was grim.
I opened my mouth; c
losed it again. He had a point.

I had stopped approaching him, because I was no longer comfortable in our intimacy. I wanted him to be the aggressor, to know that he found me as hot now as he once had. I wanted him to make the decisions, to take control.

I had always been jittery, my mind full. Though I loved my husband, and though he had at one time come closer to emptying my mind of that never ending stream of consciousness, he no longer did. We were so far out of our groove, had been for so long, that I wasn’t entirely sure that we would ever find our way back.

I knew that I could continue to argue, could press the fact that the past didn’t matter, but the fact was that it did. Somewhere along the line we’d screwed up, we meaning me as well, and it was up to us, both of us, to fix it.