First Temptation(8)

By: Joan Swan


Three others stepped into the aisle to check Zoe out, two women and a man. From the information Rio had given her, Zoe knew one of the women was the store owner, Xiomara Cruise. She guessed the other two were customers.

Walker set the box in his hand down on a shelf and started toward Zoe. She knew a lot of men, but only a few who could pull off a good swagger and even fewer who could make it look sexy.

Walker was one of the fewest.

He gathered Zoe into his arms with an ultimate sense of confidence that fascinated her. It was as if he knew her body intimately, knew exactly how they’d fit together and simply placed all the pieces where they were meant to be.

She pressed her hands to his chest and leaned away automatically. It wasn’t like she had guys sweeping her off her feet every day. Unless, of course, she counted the illegal immigrants who somersaulted with her down an embankment, then held a gun to her head. Zoe hadn’t had a normal guy hold her like this in over eight months. Hadn’t had one make her feel this…untied…this quickly in…forever.

Her body filled with the same languid pleasure that came with a deep-tissue massage, or sinking into a Jacuzzi after a stressful week. But Walker’s hot body and spicy scent added an edgy quality that made Zoe restless. Hungry. Impatient.

“You clean up nicer than I expected, Brooks.” His gaze slid slowly to her hands holding him away. His full lips tilted in challenge or mockery, she couldn’t tell which, and he met her eyes again. “But…are you on board…or not?”

“O-of course.” Her voice broke, and color burned her cheekbones.

Walker grinned. That grin that made her spine soften. “Then relax, sugar. And enjoy your work.”

He lowered his head and kissed her.

He kissed her.

And Zoe had one of those surreal how in the hell did I get here? moments. She was standing in a sex shop, kissing a stranger, in front of more strangers.

But his kiss was nothing more than a soft press of his lips. And not the least bit romantic with his eyes open and on hers, filled with silent challenge.

Now, challenge was something Zoe knew all about.

When he leaned away, Zoe released her air, let her body relax against his, and linked her fingers behind his neck. She hummed at the sensual feel of all that muscle, and her underused libido surged.

“Oh yeah,” he murmured, his voice soft, thick, and lavishing approval. “That’s better.”

“Wait,” she whispered. “I’m not done yet.”

She stretched, sliding her body along his slowly, feeling every swell and groove and plane before she pressed her lips to his. His mouth remained firm, chaste. His eyes remained open, but a clear new awareness burned hot.

She tugged on his neck, pulling their mouths flush, and licked his bottom lip. His hands fisted in the waistband of her slacks.

She gazed into those blazing golden eyes and pulled back just enough to whisper, “Are you on board, Walker, or not?”

He growled. Opened his mouth. Closed his eyes. And really kissed her.

Zoe swore a conduit existed between her mouth and her sex. The touch of Walker’s tongue flooded her pelvis with heat where it melted between her legs. He tasted like specialty coffee heated to perfection. Sweet, bitter, and decadent. One hand curled into her hair and cupped her head. The other used her belt to pull her hips up and into his, making sure she felt every inch of his package—not easily missed. His tongue slowly stroked hers, moving, probing, tasting. Zoe had never realized how much like fucking a kiss could be. But she’d obviously been kissing the wrong men. He broke away only to suck at one of her lips, then dive back in to do it all…freaking…over…again.

Christ…that was so…goooooood.

She had no doubt sex with him would be even better.

“Excuse me…”

An expectant female voice pulled Walker out of the kiss. But not away from Zoe. His gaze had darkened to molten bittersweet chocolate, his breath hot on her lips. “Damn.” His voice touched her ears in a thick rasp. “I love this fucking job.”

A soft buzzer sounded near the cash register, and Zoe recognized it as a signal of an open front door. When she glanced that direction, Zoe was glad Taft had kept one arm around her waist, because not only had he left her dizzy, her brain cells were scattered in a dozen different directions. She caught sight of the customers leaving before she turned back to the woman standing in front of them, the owner Zoe should be engaging. But her mind was focused on the burn in her lips, the heavy pulse between her thighs, the ache in her breasts. All with one kiss. Their first kiss.

“I’m Xiomara Cruise. Call me Mara.” The woman clasped her hands at her chest and gave Zoe a once-over but remained serious. “And you are lovely. What a surprise.” She shot Walker a frustrated look. “Definitely the light to your dark.”