Welcome to Temptation Page 11

  “She fell in love with a bear?”

  “No, a bear ate her.” Phin rolled his head to look at her. “Appalachia is not big on silly love songs.”

  “A bear ate her.” Sophie shook her head. “Leave it to you to think that’s romantic.”

  “The song’s beautiful.” Phin looked back at the stars. “It ends with her ghost wearing a crown of sorrow. Very romantic.”

  “Dead women are not romantic,” Sophie said flatly.

  “Okay, she’s not dead,” Phin said. “The bear ate her, and she came her brains out.”

  Sophie felt her laugh spurt before she could stop herself. “Oh, very nice. That’s not romantic, either.”

  “It is if you do it right.”

  Sophie thought about it. “I must not be doing it right.”

  “It wouldn’t be you that isn’t doing it right,” Phin said. “It’d be the bear.”

  “No picking on the bear,” she said. “Liberated women take care of themselves. ‘I’ve read The Second Sex. I’ve read The Cinderella Complex. I’m responsible for my own orgasm.’ ”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, ‘Why?’ That’s a line from a movie. Tootsie. It’s a famous line. I can’t believe you didn’t recognize it.”

  “I don’t watch movies,” Phin said. “I read. And I repeat, why would your orgasm be your responsibility during oral sex?”

  Sophie sat up a little. His tone was matter-of-fact, but his subject matter wasn’t. “I don’t think I want to talk about this.”

  “Okay,” Phin said.

  Sophie splashed her feet in the river and tried to think of something else. Talking about oral sex with Phineas T. Tucker was not something a smart woman would do. If you talked about sex with men, they often took it as a sign you wanted to have some. And then where would she be? She let her mind slide off that one fast, and it ended up back on his question.

  Of course she wanted to be responsible for her own orgasm. She was an independent woman in control of her own life. She wasn’t about to throw herself at some man and selfishly demand that he satisfy her while she just lay back and enjoyed herself—

  No, that wasn’t right, either.

  “It’s because I’d have to depend on somebody else to give me what I want,” she said, and Phin rolled his head to look at her. “I’d be one of those clingy women like Virginia Garvey or Georgia Lutz who just wait for men to take care of them and then are disappointed when they don’t. If I take responsibility, then I can’t be disappointed with anybody but me. I have control.”

  “And you see that as an improvement.”

  “It’s empowering,” Sophie said uncertainly. The rum and Coke were wearing off and so was the river. It still sounded and felt wonderful, but the fish stink was there, too. Reality, making its usual appearance just when she was getting somewhere.

  “ ‘Empowering.’ ” Phin didn’t sound impressed.

  “Well, it’s better than just lying back and hoping for the best.” Sophie kicked the water.

  “Ever tried that?” Phin said.

  Sophie kicked the water again. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Okay,” Phin said, and went back to watching the stars.

  The amount of water she was splashing was ruining the peaceful effect of the river so she stopped and let it flow past her ankles. The silence stretched out until all she could think of was Phin lying behind her. He wasn’t that attractive. He was a pain in the butt. He probably thought she was uptight just because she was independent. He didn’t even know what he was talking about. Her heart pounded harder the more she thought about him.

  “Sex isn’t what’s important anyway,” she said loftily. “It’s the relationship that matters, and relationships take work.” He didn’t say anything, so she went on to fill the silence. “I mean, sure, it sounds good to just hand everything over to somebody else, but that’s not how it works in real life.” She felt angry about that, which was totally inappropriate, and she was pretty sure it was the rum and Coke betraying her, but it might have been her life.

  “Depends on the version of real life you’re using,” Phin said.

  “Well, in my version, you have to be careful all the time and you get nothing for free,” Sophie said waspishly. “Especially orgasms.”

  “Then you need another version.”

  Sophie lost her breath as the silence stretched out again. Well, if he made a pass, she’d say no. She’d just turn around and look at that great face and better body, and say no. Who did he think he was, anyway? She certainly knew who she was, and she wasn’t the kind of woman who—

  “Come here,” Phin said, and Sophie felt his voice in the pit of her stomach.

  She shook her head.

  “You’ve got nothing to lose,” he told her. “Day after tomorrow you’re gone, and we’ll never see each other again. This is your one shot at being selfish. Let somebody take care of you for a change.” She swallowed as she tried to get her breath, and he said, “Come here and let me give you an orgasm you don’t have to work for.”

  The heat spread fast and low in her, and Sophie bit her lip and tried not to feel anything. Don’t be dumb, she told herself. You are not this kind of woman, this is not what you want, but her breath came faster and it was what she wanted, he was what she wanted. She opened her mouth to say no, but what came out was, “Why would you want to do that?”

  “So I can touch you,” he said. “I’ve wanted to since the first time I saw you on the porch.”

  There definitely wasn’t enough air by the river. The heat was driving it away. If she turned around and looked at him, she’d probably asphyxiate. “You didn’t even know me on the porch. You don’t know me now.”

  “That’s the beauty of it,” Phin said. “No guilt. No responsibility. Just pleasure.”

  She did turn to look at him then, and he met her eyes coolly. He had propped himself up on one elbow, but there was no tension anywhere in his body —she closed her eyes because he had such a beautiful body— no pressure there on her at all. He could have been offering her dinner and his voice would have sounded the same.

  “You wouldn’t care if I said no, would you?” Sophie said, and he looked surprised.

  “It wouldn’t ruin my evening.” He sat up slowly. “Okay, not a good idea. I apologize. Let me walk you back to the house, and we’ll forget—”

  “I’d have to be depraved to say yes to something like that,” Sophie said, and her voice sounded thick. “I’d have to be ...”

  She stopped because she couldn’t get the words out, and he watched her for a moment and then he leaned closer. “Wild,” he said, softly. “Reckless.” He was so close his lips were almost touching hers, and she knew he was going to kiss her. But then he whispered, “Satisfied,” and bit her lower lip, and the ache made her moan, and then he did kiss her, tasting her mouth as if she were candy, easing her down onto the dock as she clutched his shirt and arched into him, depraved and abandoned after all.

  Chapter Five

  Phin’s mouth was hot on hers where Sophie had been sure it would be cool, and she tasted the beer he’d been drinking and something else that she thought might be the intoxicating promise of sex without responsibility, or maybe it was just Phin. Then he pulled her hand off his shirt and put his hand on her breast, and the world swung around.

  She broke the kiss and tried to catch her breath even while she clung to him. The river gurgled away under the rough boards of the dock, and the breeze was warm, and his hand was hot on her, and when he kissed her again, this time teasing her lips with his tongue, she opened on a quick breath and let him take her mouth completely.

  This is wrong, she thought, but she couldn’t remember why anything that felt this good would be wrong unless it was just because it felt so good. He kissed his way down the curve of her neck, into the hollow of her shoulder, and found a nerve there she didn’t know she had and brought it alive as he pressed her onto the dock with the hard length of hi
s body, and when she rocked under him, she heard him suck in his breath and that made her hotter, too.

  Then his hand was on her thigh, and she felt him slide the short skirt of her dress up, and the slipperiness of the fabric and the weight of his hand and the prickle of her skin made her shudder. He kissed her again, and his mouth was as hot as before, his tongue as tantalizing, but his fingers were moving across her hip, under her dress, and she couldn’t concentrate on his mouth anymore. He eased the elastic of her underpants down, and then his fingers slid against her, between her legs, and she went mindless.

  She closed her eyes at his touch and said, “Oh” —too hot to feel embarrassed— and he kissed her again as he stroked her over and over. Then he slid his finger inside her and made her body jolt from the pure pleasure of it. “Tell me when it feels good,” he whispered in her ear, and she said, “Oh my God,” and he laughed —the first time she’d heard him laugh— and said, “No, when it feels really good,” and moved his finger to curve it inside her. “Here?” he said, and she shook her head, wanting to tell him that the clitoris wasn’t inside, that he’d passed it on his way in, but he said, “Wait,” and slipped a second finger in. He moved higher this time until he hit something so good that Sophie jolted against him and said, “Oh, God, there.”

  “I’ll be back,” he said and slid down her body, shoving her dress up at the same time so that the breeze that had been so warm chilled her stomach. And then he bent and licked into her, finding her clitoris with no problem at all, while his fingers made her crazy from inside.

  She gave one fleeting thought to panic, and then she crossed her arms over her eyes and let her body take her where he wanted her to go, living in the heat of his mouth and the rhythm he built in her and the shudder and the shake of her breath as the tension twisted tighter inside her. He pressed her down, holding her to the dock as she moved mindlessly against his mouth and hand, letting him do it all, and the pleasure built and built and built until she felt the first surge in her blood. She cried out in the darkness, shuddering against his mouth, and he brought her back again and again while she did absolutely nothing at all, and it was glorious.

  When he finally stopped, she lay there, letting her mind seep back in, feeling every muscle and nerve in her body celebrating. He pulled her underwear back up and kissed her stomach, and she felt the nerves there jump, and then he smoothed her dress down with the flat of his hand, and the weight of it felt wonderful, and through it all, she lay there thinking she should be feeling guilty, should be feeling grateful, but instead feeling too damn good to move.

  Phin stretched out beside her, and she rolled her head to see him, almost surprised that it was him. The mayor, no less. “So, it’s you,” she said, her voice thick and satisfied.

  “Yep,” he said. “It’s me. How soon we forget.”

  It was odd, not feeling the need to take care of him after sex. No relationship to foster. No ego to stroke. She looked back up at the stars, content to float in post orgasmic mindlessness. “Well, you were gone for days.”

  “I had work to do,” he said. “Everything okay up here?”

  “It was incredible,” she said politely.

  “I know,” he said, and she thought about how nice it was that they weren’t in a relationship so she wouldn’t have to kill him for being arrogant about being right all the time.

  “I think this is the part where you say something nice about me,” Sophie said, not really caring.

  “Why?” Phin said. “You didn’t do anything.”

  Sophie smiled dreamily up at the stars. “I like you after all. You’re consistent. And competent. You know, you don’t get stars like this in Cincinnati.”

  “There’s a lot of stuff here you don’t get in Cincinnati,” Phin said. “In fact, you just got some.”

  “I could tell Br—” Sophie began. “Oh, no.” She sat up, cold with guilt, sandbagged by reality once again.

  Phin sighed. “What now?”

  “I just cheated on my significant other,” Sophie said. “I didn’t even think about him, I just invited you right on in and cheated on him. I’m scum.”

  “You didn’t cheat on him,” Phin said. “Although you might have mentioned him sooner.”

  Sophie looked at him with all the scorn she felt for herself. “Like you care.”

  “I don’t,” Phin said. “I just like having all the information I can get.” He turned his head to meet her eyes. “And the damnedest thing, Sophie, I always have this feeling you’re holding something out on me.”

  “Clearly I wasn’t holding out tonight,” Sophie said, not liking the look in his eye or the turn the conversation was taking. “I can’t believe I cheated on Brandon. I am not a cheater, but boy, I sure rolled over for you.”

  “Many women have,” Phin said. “And you didn’t cheat, so stop beating yourself up. Unless you enjoy it.”

  “How is this not cheating?” Sophie demanded. “We had sex. Right here on this dock. I was here. I remember.”

  “We didn’t have sex,” Phin said. “I was here, and I didn’t have sex. You’re too drunk to have sex. I’d be taking advantage of you.”

  “What? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Sophie stood up and closed her eyes as her body remembered what a good time she’d just had. Which was wretched of her, she reminded herself, and then she stretched a little so her muscles would remember some more. “We had sex,” she said, and her body telegraphed back, Sure did. She looked down at Phin, still stretched out on the dock, and the thought of what his body could do for her made her want to kick him. And then jump him. She looked away. “And now I’m going to call my lover and tell him what a scum I’ve been and hope he’ll forgive me. Thank you very much for a lovely evening. Let’s not do it again.”

  She walked off the dock and felt the cold grass on her toes just as Phin said, “Hold it, Julie Ann. Nice exit, but you forgot your shoes.”

  She turned and watched as he rolled to his feet and picked up her shoes. He strolled toward her and held them out, and she met his eyes and saw heat there and wanted him again.

  Sophie took her shoes. “I’m not Julie Ann. I’m still alive and I’m staying that way.” She looked into his eyes one last time, and then she turned back toward the house, toward safety and away from temptation.

  “Maybe,” Phin called after her as she walked away from him. “But the bear got you just the same.”

  Sophie closed her eyes and kept walking. The devil wasn’t inside her after all. He was back there on the dock, making her crazy.

  The dog greeted her with rapture when she came in, which made her feel even worse, keeping him shut up inside while she was having sex on the dock. She was a terrible mother. She took him outside and told him what an wonderful canine he was, and then she went upstairs for a long shower to scrub away the guilt. It didn’t work; she could still feel Phin everywhere. And hooray for that, her body said, let’s do it again. Then she put Dusty on for comfort and crawled into bed to call Brandon so guilt would give her some perspective. It worked pretty well: When he said, “Hello,” she felt like throwing up.

  “It’s me.” She swallowed.

  “Sophie?” Brandon sounded as if he’d been drugged.

  “Brandon, I’m a horrible person,” Sophie said. The dog jumped on the bed and she patted its solid little barrel body.

  “No, you’re not,” he yawned. “What happened?”

  “I had sex,” Sophie said. “Of course, he says it wasn’t sex, but it was, and now I’ve called you and made you feel awful in the middle of the night so I won’t feel so guilty, and that’s worse.”

  “What do you mean, ‘he says it wasn’t sex’?” Brandon said, not yawning. “Who was this?”

  “A guy I met here. The mayor. We were talking and then he kissed me, and then things got... out of hand.”

  “If all he did was kiss you, he was right. You didn’t have sex.” Brandon sounded a little grumpy, which wasn’t quite the reaction she’
d been expecting. “Look, I know you think I haven’t been paying enough attention to you and I should have called before this but—”

  “You’ve been paying plenty of attention to me,” Sophie said. “And it was more than one kiss. It was—”

  “You’re just tired of walking the straight and narrow.” He sounded exasperated. “So you went for a little harmless excitement by necking with an authority figure.”

  “Excuse me?” Sophie said.

  “You didn’t even give this man a name. You said he was the mayor. That’s obviously more important than who he is as a person.”