Too Much Temptation. Lori Foster

had gone all soft and sympathetic, putting Noah on edge.

      It was bad enough that he’d slept with her, that he’d had all those luscious curves under him and couldn’t remember a thing about it; the idea that he might have been a whiny ass, too, was intolerable.

      Through his teeth, Noah said, “I’m fine.”

      “Good.”

      He needed to get back on track. By the second, Grace became more appealing. He almost wished she wasn’t such a sweetheart, in which case he’d already have her panties off her and apologizing would be the last thing on his mind.

      Resigned, Noah gulped down the last of the coffee. “I wanted to apologize.”

      “No need.” Her smile now was genuine. “I didn’t mind. I even…” She blushed. “Well, I enjoyed myself.”

      Noah could only stare. Grace was a lady, always. Not a priss like Kara, but just as proper. Surely more moral. Yet she’d enjoyed herself?

      He heard himself say, “Well, thank God for that.”

      “What?”

      He shook his head and decided a few admissions were in order. “I was so damn drunk, I had no idea if I’d embarrassed myself.” Noah could just imagine how much more awkward this would be if he’d fallen asleep in the middle of things, leaving Grace unsatisfied.

      But God, he wished he could recall her satisfaction.

      Grace frowned. “You don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me. Besides, you were justified.”

      His head started pounding again. Noah set the mug aside and caught her shoulders. “I shouldn’t have touched you, Grace. Drunk or not, whether you liked it or not, that was out of line. You should slap my face, not make excuses for me.”

      She appeared to be holding her breath and staring at his mouth.

      “Grace?”

      “You didn’t,” she gasped out, and her breasts heaved, drawing his attention.

      “Didn’t what?” Noah asked, even as his brain began an erotic fantasy with those bountiful breasts as the focal point.

      “Didn’t…” She gestured between their bodies. “…do what you’re thinking.”

      Noah had meant to make amends, to promise Grace it’d never happen again. He should have been relieved that things hadn’t gone quite as far as he’d feared.

      Instead, disappointment weighed him down.

      “That’s…good, then,” he said. It was better this way, he knew that, but the feel of her under his hands, so smooth and warm, made him forget his resolve. She was close, and she stared up at him with blatant invitation—whether she realized it or not.

      He wanted her now, more than ever.

      “Noah,” Grace murmured in a hesitant whisper, “are you saying you didn’t really want me?”

      The question threw him. “I want you all right.”

      “You’re not drunk this morning?”

      “Dead sober.” He’d never be drunk again.

      “Then…” She shifted, looked up at him. “Okay.”

      His knees almost gave out. Was Grace trying to kill him? He tightened his hold on her upper arms and tugged her the smallest bit closer. “Okay? What the hell does okay mean?”

      “Yesterday you were so drunk, I knew I couldn’t take advantage of you.”

      “You couldn’t…” She left him speechless.

      “I especially wanted to touch you. Leaving you in your boxers wasn’t easy. But I promise, I behaved.”

      She behaved? “Grace, are you saying we really didn’t do anything? As in nothing? As in not even kissing?”

      “You don’t remember?”

      “Not much.”

      “Oh.” That one word held a wealth of disappointment. “You, uh, well you did kiss me a couple of times. It was…really nice.”

      The timid way she confessed that made Noah want to kiss her again. He had to kiss her. As he leaned down toward her, Grace went on tiptoe to meet him halfway. He took her mouth without his usual care. But then, at the moment, he could barely think, much less summon up any finesse.

      Grace’s lips parted at the first touch of his tongue and he sank deep, groaning and then feeling the responsive bite of her nails on his shoulders.

      Oh yeah. He loved the bite of a woman’s nails.

      Her mouth was hot and sweet and his body tensed with razor-sharp hunger. “Grace…” He kissed her throat, beneath her ear; he drew her skin against his teeth, marking her.

      “You said you wanted me,” Grace admitted on a soft moan. She clung to him, her head tilted to give his mouth free access to her throat. “But I figured it was just the alcohol talking. I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret this morning.”

      Very slowly, awareness sank in. Though it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, Noah forced his hands to open and he released her.

      Christ, he hadn’t touched Grace last night in a drunken stupor, but he was about to lay down with her today, when he wouldn’t even have the excuse of being drunk.

      He turned away and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Grace.”

      Silence.

      Noah wanted to kick his own ass. He turned to face her and saw her ravaged expression. Her face had paled, and her arms were crossed defensively.

      Her pain twisted in his heart. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her. “Gracie…”

      “No, I understand.” She took two hasty steps back—away from him. Her eyes glistened wetly but she didn’t cry. She tried a small laugh that fell flat. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Dumb.”

      Noah had been through the emotional wringer, and none of it had anything to do with his grandmother or his canceled wedding plans.

      It all had to do with Grace. He narrowed his eyes and firmed his jaw. “What the hell does that mean?”

      “I’m twenty-five.” She laughed again. “I should understand these things better.”

      He took a purposeful step forward, crowding her, stalking her. For sixteen years he’d lived on the edge, growing harder each day in order to survive. That hardness was now ingrained in his psyche, and even his grandmother, with all her refined living and influence, hadn’t been able to soften him.

      He’d learned to cover it up, but he’d never conquered it, and now, with Grace standing before him, her body soft and warm and timid, he felt every single rising surge of that primitive past. “These things?”

      His tone brought out her wariness. “Drunken men, sex talk, the combination of the two. It doesn’t mean anything.” She shrugged and again retreated. “It’s okay, Noah, really. If I’d been thinking, I’d have realized…well…” She glanced up at him, then away. “I’d have known you didn’t want me.”

      There were a thousand and one reasons why he couldn’t get involved sexually with Grace Jenkins. None of them mattered in that moment. “You blind, Gracie?”

      “I…what?”

      “You know what a boner looks like?”

      Her face went comically blank, then she shook her head so hard her hair whipped over her shoulders. “Not exactly, no.”

      Noah damn near smiled. Honest, silly Grace. She forever amused him at the most surprising times.

      Noah dropped his arms to his