Brenda Jackson

Locked In Temptation


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nothing was forever. At least, for him it wasn’t. He learned to take life one day at a time.

      He drifted back to sleep and wasn’t sure for how long. All he knew was that when he woke again, it was to the scents of bacon and coffee. A great combination, in his book. Had he died and gone to heaven? He noticed the pictures on the wall, no doubt of various family members. Probably her siblings and parents since each individual favored her.

      Stonewall studied the framed photograph of the man he figured to be her father. He was standing on a fishing dock next to a boat and holding up what had evidently been a good catch for that day. The older man was tall, robust-looking and muscular. He looked like a person who wielded authority even when he was in a relaxed mode. There was just something about a cop. You could recognize one even without the uniform.

      With the exception of Joy...

      The two times he’d seen her all dolled up, he would not have figured her for a cop. There was definitely nothing rough and tough-looking about her in a pair of stilettos. She was pure woman. Hell, she was pure woman even without the stilettos. But with the heels she was sex on the most gorgeous pair of legs he’d ever seen.

      And he didn’t want to think about her without any clothes. That would only make his body hard, which would tempt him to go drag her out of her kitchen and back to bed. He chuckled. Drag her out of the kitchen? He was smart enough not try it or else he might find a Glock to the side of his head. He had a feeling not anyone—man or woman—would be stupid enough to make any attempt to drag Joy Ingram anywhere. You couldn’t let her size fool you.

      He shifted on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Yellow ceilings? Who did that? Weren’t all ceilings supposed to be white? Who painted their ceilings to match their walls?

      “Good morning. I see you’re awake.”

      He jerked his head around and found the giver of so much pleasure from last night standing in the doorway. Immediately that verse about enduring something for a night but finding joy in the morning popped into his mind. Well, he’d lucked out and found it. Joy in the morning. She was definitely his joy. He was experiencing such contentment after spending a night in her bed and waking up beside her.

      She wore a short, cutesy floral print sundress that looked sexy on her. His gaze roamed all over her, appreciating everything he saw and a few things he didn’t see but knew were there beneath the dress.

      “Good morning to you, and yes, I’m awake. I didn’t hear you leave the bed,” he said, trying not to stare at her legs.

      “You were sleeping soundly, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

      He frowned. He never slept soundly. It was part of his profession never to sleep soundly. Even off duty while in his own bed, he never slept so deeply that he wouldn’t awaken at the faintest sound. He must have been more exhausted than he’d thought. But when had sex with a woman ever tired him out?

      “I’m cooking breakfast if you’d like to join me. I figure you worked up an appetite last night. We both did.”

      He lifted up in bed, thinking he would definitely agree with that. “And how do you feel this morning?” He was asking for a reason and they both knew why.

      She shrugged. “I’m still somewhat sore even after soaking in the Jacuzzi tub for nearly an hour.”

      Soaking in a tub? For nearly an hour? He’d slept through her doing that, as well? He rubbed a hand down his face. Damn.

      “Are you okay, Stonewall?”

      Was he? Hell, he wasn’t sure. One night in her bed and he was off his A-game. Sleeping like a damn baby. “Yes, but I feel like an inconsiderate bastard.”

      “Why?”

      “I should have run your bathwater for you. That’s the least I could have done.”

      “Why? It’s not like I crawled to the tub, Stonewall. I was sore, not disabled.”

      Still, something about her doing that without his help bothered him. Just like knowing he’d slept through her getting out of bed. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra toothbrush around here, would you?” he asked, swinging his legs off the bed to get up. He glanced around for his clothes and then remembered where he’d left them.

      “Yes, I have an extra toothbrush. I placed it along with a washcloth and towel on the vanity. I also hung your shirt and pants up on the back of the bathroom door. I figured the steam from my bathwater would get rid of any wrinkles.”

      And he’d slept through it all. “Sounds like you’ve been busy.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He appreciated a person who was on top of things, but Joy was too much. It sounded like she needed to learn how to slow down and relax some.

      She chuckled. “Yes, that’s me. Busy beaver Joy. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. I’ll be in the kitchen finishing up.” And then she turned and left.

      He rubbed a hand over his face. Hell, regardless of how off-kilter he felt, he still liked seeing Joy in the morning.

      * * *

      JOY KNEW THE moment Stonewall entered her kitchen, but when she turned around, the air was suddenly sucked from her lungs. In the bright morning sunlight that flowed through the kitchen window, he looked as yummy as the eggs, bacon and pancakes she’d been busy cooking. He’d put on his slacks and shirt, and on him they looked freshly pressed. It was as if the creases in his slacks had automatically fallen in place. She always thought she had a pretty nice-sized kitchen, but once he walked in, it seemed rather tiny.

      “I didn’t properly greet you yet,” he said, crossing the room to her and pulling her into his arms. “Good morning, Joy.”

      He kissed her, reacquainting her tongue with his. Not that it needed to be done. She was certain there was no part of her body that could forget him. He had such a lasting effect. He’d showered, and the manly scent of him delighted her. He deepened the kiss and she knew if she didn’t pull back now, they would be making out on her kitchen table.

      She broke off the kiss, but he still kept her wrapped in his warm embrace while nibbling on her neck. She in turn took advantage and rubbed her nose against the side of his face, loving the feel of the manly texture of his beard. “I wish I could make love to you again before I leave,” he murmured softly.

      A part of her wished the same thing. “Any reason you can’t?” she asked.

      “Yes. You’re still sore and you’ve taken enough of me in one day.”

      That was definitely being straightforward, she thought. “Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?”

      “Not this time. I know your body’s limitations.”

      He really thought so? “And how is that possible?”

      A smile touched his lips. “I was inside you last night. Remember?”

      How could she forget? It felt strange standing in the middle of her kitchen, holding a conversation about whether or not she could handle him again today.

      He leaned closer. “But you can get as much of this as you want,” he said, kissing her more deeply this time. She felt her knees weaken and wrapped her arms around his neck at the same time he wrapped his around her waist.

      He finally released her mouth but kept his arms around her. “I could get used to this,” he murmured softly against her moist lips.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      “I THINK OUR first date was simply spectacular, don’t you?” Stonewall asked as his lips moved from her neck to nibble her ear.

      “Umm, most definitely.”

      “I could get used to that, as well.”

      She chuckled and he could feel the vibrations. She pulled