Memories for Eternity: Taming Clint Westmoreland. Brenda Jackson
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“Umm, that looks interesting. Can I play?”
She whirled in her seat and startled dark eyes seemed to clash with his as she stood abruptly. “I’m sorry. I should have asked to use your computer before—”
“You didn’t have to ask, Alyssa,” he said, interrupting her apology. “You are more than welcome to use it. Please sit back down and continue what you were doing. You seem to be having fun. What is it?”
She hesitated briefly before retaking her seat. Slowly her gaze slid from him to the computer screen. The one thing he had noticed when she stood was that the T-shirt was even more sensually appealing than he’d first thought. It barely covered her thighs and if that wasn’t bad enough, it outlined her curves in a way that had blood racing through his veins.
“It’s a game called ‘Playing with Fire,’” she said softly and he had a feeling he was making her nervous. She glanced back over at him. “Have you ever played Atomic Bomberman before?”
He smiled, inwardly fighting the acute desire he felt at that moment. “No, I don’t believe that I have,” he said.
“Oh. ‘Playing with Fire’ is sort of a flashy remake of ‘Atomic Bomberman.’ The object of the game is to blow up your opponent before they blow you up,” she explained.
Clint chuckled. “That sounds rather interesting. I take it you like playing games on the computer.”
She shrugged. “Yes, it’s a way for me to unwind. Whenever I can’t sleep I usually get up and play a game or two,” she said.
He leaned against the closed door. “I see. Is there a reason you can’t sleep?” Already his mind was thinking of his own version of “Playing with Fire” and the various ways it could be played. “Is the bed not comfortable?” Although he wished it wouldn’t go there, his mind quickly thought of her in that huge bed alone.
“No, the bed is fine, really comfortable,” she responded with what he denoted as a soft chuckle before adding, “It’s just that I’m not used to sleeping in any bed but my own.”
“I see.”
She cleared her throat before standing again. “Well, I don’t want to keep you out of your office,” she uttered as she prepared to leave.
“You’re not. I had come in to use the phone, but I can make the call from my bedroom just as easily. I’ll leave you to your game.” He paused a second then asked, “By the way, who’s winning?”
He saw the smile that touched her lips, the sparkle that lit her eyes and the proud lifting of her chin. “I am, of course,” she answered.
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me? Good night, Alyssa,” he said, returning her smile.
“Good night, Clint.”
Clint turned and moved toward the door. When he felt the sudden rush of blood to his loins he muttered a curse under his breath and turned back around. Before Alyssa could blink he crossed the room and pulled her from the chair. The moment her body was pressed against his and her lips parted in a startled gasp, his mouth swept down on hers at an angle that called for deep penetration. He took hold of her tongue, wanting the taste of her again with a need that was hitting him all at once, and when she returned the kiss—their tongues participated in one hell of a heated duel—a disturbing acceptance entered his mind. He was not prone to giving in to sexual desires like this, he thought. He could get turned on just like the next guy, but never to this magnitude. His response to any woman had never been this strong, this intense, this mind-bogglingly obsessive. The more he tasted her, the more he wanted, and it wasn’t helping matters that she felt perfectly right in his arms. Her softness felt so good against his hardness. What the hell was wrong with him?
He quickly decided he would have to figure out this change in him later, but not right now. Not when she’d wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer to his, and not when he could feel the tips of her breasts through the cotton of his shirt. His mind began imagining all sorts of things. He imagined how it would feel to have the tips of those breasts in his mouth, to toy with them using his tongue, or how he would love to spread her on his desk and take her there. Then there was the idea of him sitting in the chair and tugging her down in his lap and...
She suddenly broke the kiss and he watched as she backed away while forcing air into her lungs. He was doing likewise. He was breathing like he had just run a marathon, but each time he inhaled, her scent filled his nostrils. It was a scent that was getting him aroused all over again.
She lifted her head to look at him and that’s when he noticed the knot in her hair had come undone and it was flowing wildly around her shoulders, making her look even sexier than before.
“Was that supposed to be a good-night kiss?” Her voice was soft and breathy.
That hadn’t been what he’d expected her to say. Actually, he had expected her to dress him down in the worse possible way. Was it possible that she was admitting that she had wanted the kiss as much as he had? She didn’t seem to be placing the blame entirely on him, although he had been the one to make the first move.
He leaned back against the door as his gaze went to her mouth. “Yes, it was a good-night kiss,” he said. “Want another one?”
“No. I doubt if I could handle it,” she responded, shaking her head.
A smile touched his lips. Again her comment had surprised him. “Sure you can. Do you want me to prove it to you?”
“No, thank you.”
He chuckled softly. “In that case, I’ll let you get back to your game.” Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he opened the door and quickly walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
He paused for a second thinking it was obvious that they had the hots for each other. If she remained under his roof there was no way he would be able to keep his hands off her. He wondered if the kisses they’d shared would be a determining factor in whether she stayed or went back to Waco. Would living together be too much of a temptation? Thirty days was a long time.
She’d said she wasn’t used to sleeping in any bed other than her own. In a way he had been glad to hear that. On the other hand, he figured she had to know that if she remained at the Golden Glade, at the rate they were going, she would eventually share his.
As he made his way toward his bedroom, thinking about the explosive chemistry between them began to annoy the hell out of him. He was a man known to have a multitude of control. In the past when lust consumed his body he had a way of dealing with it. Any available and willing woman would do. But he had a feeling that his usual solution would not work this time. His body wanted only one woman and that wasn’t good.
* * *
Alyssa released a deep breath the moment Clint closed the door behind him. It was simply amazing that one man could have that kind of effect on her. Every single time she saw him, every time he kissed her the result was the same—passion. When would the attraction she had for him wear off? What if it never did?
Maybe she needed to rethink her decision to remain at Clint’s ranch for the thirty days. It was a decision she hadn’t yet told him she’d made, only because she had mentioned that she would need to sleep on it. And she had, which was the main reason she was up now. Once the decision had been made she couldn’t get her body to go back to sleep. It had become restless and for the first time ever, fiercely aroused.
And for him to find her in his office wearing only a large T-shirt was embarrassing. But the house had been quiet for a long while and she figured everyone had gone to bed for the night. His bedroom was in a different wing and so she had assumed the coast was clear. She thought that she could sneak into his office for a while and not be noticed. But he had noticed. And so she made a new promise—no more late-night game-playing on the computer for her.
She inhaled deeply. In the morning she would tell him of her decision to stay. She would also tell him that her decision came with stipulations.