Yeah, he was very good at spinning fiction-both with his words and in his head.
WHEN CALLIE WOKE UP the sun was low in the sky and she felt refreshed. She took a quick shower, then put on a pair of tight black shorts and a skimpy white cotton peasant top that bared her midriff.
Slipping her feet into a pair of black gladiator sandals, she exited the room, listening intently for any noise from the interior of the house. Hearing nothing, she walked downstairs and out into the yard. Wondering if Jammer had gone back to the shed, she made her way there. Pulling open the door, she was greeted with the sight of him dressed in a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a muscle T-shirt, standing next to a wooden table. The aroma of alcohol laced with…cherries hit her as she stepped inside and shut the door.
“What are you doing?”
He looked around, his hair spiky, his eyes a bit lazy. He smiled and it was as if the sun came out in that small space. His teeth were white in the dimness and she literally had to catch her breath.
“Tasting the cherries to see if the brandy is ready.”
“I’d say you’ve done your fair share of tasting.”
He laughed. “I have. Come over here and help me.”
“You were supposed to wake me.”
“I know, but you were tired and I thought I’d do some more work before you got up.”
“This is work?” she asked with an arched brow.
“It is.” He laughed again and she realized he was a bit tipsy.
And she had to wonder if he’d come out here to escape from the tortured thoughts that haunted him.
“I’ve lost everyone who matters to me.”
“I’ve got enough death on my conscience to last me…”
Who had he lost? Who had he cared about? Why were their deaths on his conscience?
She stopped herself from going down that road. It was dangerous to want that knowledge. She had all she could handle just getting through this op.
“Come here,” he said softly. Something in his voice sent off fireworks in her midriff. At least she could pretend that was part of the op.
She approached him and could immediately feel the heat from his body as she got closer.
“I don’t want to interrupt your…work,” she said with a teasing smile.
“Tasting cherries is one of my favorite things to do. I don’t mind sharing,” he said. His eyes ran down her body to her groin, where they lingered, frank and outrageous.
She didn’t move. Couldn’t move with the aura of sin around him like a halo. He was temptation personified.
She had the sense, as she looked up into that calm, stunningly handsome face, that he was running possible scenarios through his head. Hot, dark, erotic. The air around them seemed suddenly charged with his powerful sexuality. It enveloped her, penetrating through the pores of her skin and stoking her blood with fire.
A delicate shiver of arousal rippled through her, followed closely with an aching tension deep in her core.
She couldn’t help remembering the way his words about his father had touched her even though she hadn’t wanted them to.
Sympathy was equated with weakness in her line of business; it could draw a person into a situation where perspectives could become warped, and emotions took over where logic should rule. But she’d already succumbed to it once.
He startled her with his next words.
“You don’t trust me,” he whispered, tenderly brushing the wet strands of her short hair then grazing his fingertips along the line of her cheekbone. “You shouldn’t. I’m not good for you.”
The warning was diluted to nothing by the sadness in his face. His mouth twisted into a half smile that was cynical and weary. His dark eyes looked a hundred years old. Bad Jammer. The devil in cutoff denim. Self-professed seducer. Warning her away. He didn’t see the paradox, but Callie did. He was nobody’s hero, but he would save her from himself.
She had spent too much of her life with truly evil people. Jammer claimed to be bad and she had the reports to prove it. But why didn’t she sense it in him? She wouldn’t want him to kiss her right now, touch her, hold her while the scent of desire and cherries surrounded her.
He’s deliciously dangerous.
Yes, she had thought that. And if Jammer himself wasn’t dangerous, then what she felt for him when he was this near surely was. She couldn’t fall for him, not for his body or his tarnished soul or his allure of the forbidden. There was no room in her life for a rogue. She couldn’t have her heart stolen by a man like him. She was above that. She had to be.
She told herself that. But then he touched her, setting off a fire in her blood.
He gripped her waist, pulling her close, his hands warm and firm on her bare skin.
“This isn’t what I ever intended,” he said, lowering his head, his gaze on her mouth.
“Yeah, I know. Me, either.”
He laid his mouth gently on hers, his kiss soft, but only for a moment, like testing the waters. Then it blossomed, and he kissed her as if the world was coming to an end, rolling his mouth over hers, his hands molding her to him like a second skin.
His kiss stole her breath away.
Her head was swimming and her body came alive. Damn, he was good at this. She wanted it to go on-would have in that second risked her life to stay right here and let him take her like some trophy.
But to her surprise, he broke the kiss and stepped back. “Got to get this job done. Want to help?”
Regaining some of her equilibrium, she braced her hand on the smooth wooden workbench behind her. “Yes, if it’ll get it done any faster.”
He chuckled. “Patience is a virtue.”
“Patience sucks.”
“Exactly what I would expect you to say, Gina.”
She shrugged without apology.
He opened a jar and poured the reddish-black contents into a colander, straining it into a bowl beneath. The smell of the cherries filled Callie’s nose. The fruit remaining in the colander was soft from the fermenting.
Jammer picked up a spoon and selected a cherry. “Don’t take it whole. Lick it first…” His lean jaw clenched, as if he was barely holding on to his restraint.
Fire licked through her, deep and low.
He smelled sweet and tasted tart, and she thought she’d rather eat him than the cherry he held out to her on the tip of the spoon.
She indulged him because he was making her wait. Callie put out her tongue and licked at the cherry on the spoon, allowing her mouth to absorb the hot, spicy richness. “Oh God, that’s amazing.”
His gaze darkened with heat. “Now, bite it in half.”
He watched raptly as she did so, her lips tingling from the juices. She closed her eyes as the liqueur’s flavor burst on her tongue. When she swallowed, the brandy burned a path down her throat to settle in her empty stomach like a bomb, radiating heat outward like the concussion from an explosion.
She heard him exhale a deep breath and she smiled before she opened her eyes. Giving him an even badder bad-girl smile that told him she loved having the upper hand, she leaned forward and tried to take the half of the cherry still on the spoon.
He pulled it away and shook his head. He set the spoon down, grasped her around the waist and lifted her easily up onto the table. Spreading her thighs apart, he settled in between them, bracing his hands on either side of her hips.
“Are we done tasting?” she asked with a pout.
The feel of his lips on hers was exquisite, warm and heated, undeniably demanding. When their tongues touched, then tangled silkily, sparks ignited inside her stomach. He tasted like wild, untamed lust, and she thrilled at the amazing sense of feminine power that she could make this man so hungry for her.
With a low growl deep in his throat, he closed the scant distance between them and pressed his lean body up against hers, his strong thighs on either side of hers, trapping her so his thick, impressive erection made itself
