Teague (12 page)

Sabrina couldn’t help but giggle. “Of course I do. We could hear you. In fact I’m pretty sure that all of Gravenhurst could hear you.”

“Well, you made me give you a play-by-play because you and Brent weren’t getting busy at the time on account of you being pregnant and sick to your stomach.”

“And?”

“Payback’s a bitch,” Allie said with a wink. “I want my own play-by-play.” She paused. “On account that I’m having another baby and I need something to get me through the nights when I’m as big as a house.”

Sabrina squealed and enfolded her friend in a hug.

“It’s about time you told her,” Paul said with a smile, sliding up to his wife and kissing her on the cheek.

After a round of congratulations and a kiss pressed to her son’s face—one he tried to wriggle out of with all his might—Sabrina decided it was time to head home.

Teague had followed her to Allie’s in his truck and he pulled in behind her on the road back to the lake. The music was on low and she drove home under a star-sprinkled night sky.

Everything out here was so big and on a night like tonight it made her feel small. Insignificant. She thought of Allie and the growing life inside her.

She’d wanted one more child, but then Brent had gotten sick and the dream was lost. Would she ever feel the thrill of a miracle inside her again? Allie was right. She
was
young. There were still possibilities out there. She just had to be brave enough to find them.

Or rather, she had to be brave enough to take them when she did.

Sabrina pulled into her driveway and cut the engine. She watched Teague’s truck until it came to a stop at his place. The headlights went out and she waited until he exited his vehicle before sliding from her own.

The crickets were loud tonight and in the distance, an owl hooted.

They looked at each other across the open space between them and Sabrina didn’t even know she’d stopped breathing until Teague slowly raised his hand and she heard a quiet, ‘goodnight’.

She exhaled, gasping a little to draw in another breath and turned toward her own place.

Maybe Allie was wrong and maybe Sabrina was plain old crazy.

Or maybe doing nothing about what was there between them was for the best, because the one thing that Sabrina was sure of was the fact that a connection with Teague Simon wouldn’t be easy. It would be complicated. It would be messy. Wasn’t her life complicated enough?

Or was Teague Simon worth the complication?

Chapter Thirteen

Teague Simon was restless. It had been a full day—out in the sun for more hours than he could count, and then a couple rounds of water volleyball. Add to that a basket of ribs and enough homemade pie that he should have been face down on his bed asleep.

Should have
being the operative words. He closed his eyes and all he could think about was silky brown hair and blue eyes. He’d been staring at the ceiling for at least two hours and by now it was well past midnight.

“Screw it,” he said, rolling out of bed wearing nothing but his boxers. He strode out of his room and headed to the deck. He needed to clear his head and maybe some fresh air would help.

Or one of his Cuban cigars.

A thousand stars shone down on him and the full moon lit the deck as he searched for the damn cigars. He’d just located them when a splash turned his head toward the water. There was a shadow down there.

Someone was at the boathouse.

More intrigued than anything, Teague tossed his cigars back into the compartment where he’d stowed them and on silent feet, moved across the deck and down the stairs.

It was so bright that it didn’t take much for his eyes to adjust and even before he hit the dock, he knew who it was out there.

Sabrina.

She was sitting at the end of the dock, dangling her feet in the water as the soft breeze of the lake lifted her hair into a cloud around her shoulders. She turned slightly and dragged some of that hair off her face. She was so damn small. So delicate.

A powerful need erupted inside him, and yet wasn’t it was a need that had been there for days? A need he’d been trying to push back.

Silently he moved forward, his bare feet not making a sound. Teague didn’t stop until he was inches from her, and hell, that honeysuckle scent surrounded Sabrina. It rode the wind and he inhaled a heady shot of it.

For several long moments, the water lapped at the edge of the dock and it was the only noise in his ears. He couldn’t take his eyes off her and when she pushed back a tangle of hair, his eyes fell to the exposed skin at her neck.

He wanted to taste her there.

He took another step forward—not even thinking—and then stopped himself. What the hell was he doing? This right here was dangerous. Why in hell was he contemplating getting involved with a young widow who had two kids?

He couldn’t be good for them. Hell, he hadn’t been good for anybody in a long, long time. Even before Syria.

“Are you going to join me or stand there all night?”

Her voice was soft and she spoke haltingly, as if unsure of herself. Her shoulders were hunched a bit and she looked so damn vulnerable. It tore at something inside him.

Teague took the last few steps and then he was beside her, sitting down on the dock, dangling his feet over the edge.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

She shook her head, not looking at him, but staring up into the big night sky. “No. It’s a bit of a problem sometimes.”

“Something we have in common.”

She looked at him then, lips slightly parted. “What do you do about it?”

What hadn’t he done? “I used to drink a lot. And then there were the pills. Took me a while to realize those things only made it worse, so now when I can’t sleep I—”

“Walk around in your underwear?”

He laughed softly. “You complaining?”

Her tongue darted out and his gut tightened when she let her eyes roll over him. “No,” she whispered.

“Good to know.”

She glanced away then, those small delicate shoulders hunched forward once more. He eyed those shoulders for a long time, enjoying the play of shadows along her upper arms. Abruptly he jumped into the water and she glanced up sharply, those eyes of hers glistening under the summer moon.

The water at the end of the dock reached his neck and he moved along the side to where it was shallow. When it was at his waist, he stopped and glanced over to her. “How about that swim lesson?”

She was silent, watching him, and her chest rose and fell, her nipples hard and easy to see through the thin material of her tank top. She was so feminine. So damn breakable. When she slowly pushed up onto her knees, with all that hair around her shoulders and those big eyes looking at him, it took everything inside him to stay still and not scoop her up into his arms.

She was unsure. He could see that. Hell, he was unsure. But this thing between them, whatever it was, he wanted to explore it and a jolt ripped through him when he realized how badly he did.

Or maybe it was more that he
needed
to.

Sabrina slowly slid into the water and he eyed her hungrily. She would taste amazing. He knew this.

She stood before him, arms crossed over her chest, shivering slightly, and something about the way she looked tore at a place inside him—a place that he thought was long dead.

Teague reached for her and she didn’t resist when he drew her into his arms. He had no idea how long he held her like that, but he sure as hell loved the feel of her against him. If not for the thin cotton between them, they’d be skin on skin. That thought fired him up and Teague clamped his jaw together tightly, concentrating on keeping things relatively innocent.

At least for now.

“You ready?” he murmured into her hair.

She tensed in his arms, eyes big when she looked up at him.

“For your swimming lesson,” he said watching her carefully. Sabrina glanced to the side, eyes skimming over the water and he felt her fear. He wondered about it but didn’t press for details.

“We’ll just stay right here where it’s shallow, all right?”

She nodded but didn’t speak and he bent low, his lips close to her ear. “I won’t let you go.”

“Okay,” Sabrina said quietly.

He led her away from the dock making sure the water didn’t get any deeper, but looking for more room to maneuver.

“Okay,” he said. “Lie back.”

She glanced down at the water. “Won’t I sink?”

“No. We need to get you used to floating on your back.”

“Oh, okay.” She still sounded unsure and he slipped in behind her.

“I won’t let you go under, but you gotta trust me.” Teague put a hand on her shoulder and felt just how tense she was. “Relax,” he breathed into her ear, pulling her back toward him. “I won’t let you go.”

Carefully he eased her onto her back, moving to the side so that he could slip an arm underneath her waist. Stiff as a board, she looked like a soldier. “Relax,” he coaxed once more. “You’ll float.”

He held her and kept her from going under until she eventually relaxed. “Move your arms,” he commanded, leading her in a circle. “There, you’re getting the hang of it.”

Her clothes (which he realized must be her pajamas) were wet and he had no trouble seeing her breasts or the junction between her legs.

Keep your eyes on her face.

But it was hard to do. She was perfect for him, with pert breasts that were no more than a handful, a tight little body that would fit him like a glove, and eyes that were…

“You’re so damn beautiful.”

She froze at his words and her hands stilled. If not for Teague’s quick reflexes, she would have went under.

“Hey,” he began slowly, helping her to stand. “I don’t want…” Jesus, he was screwing this up. His body was hot and tight and all he could think about was how she would taste and feel. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to put his hands on a woman this badly.

“I don’t want to scare you,” he said softly.

Her chest rose and fell. “You’re not,” she replied, her voice so low he could barely hear her.

The water lapped at her ribcage and his hand slid to her cheek. He needed to be clear about things. He looked into her eyes so that there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings. “Sabrina, unless you say no, I’m going to kiss you.”

Her lips parted and she blew out a long, shuddering breath. But she didn’t move away and she didn’t say a word. His thumb caressed the corner of her mouth and damn but his heart thudded inside his chest so loudly he was surprised she couldn’t hear it.

“Sabrina?” he asked once more.

But there was no need. Her hands crept up his chest as she moved closer and Teague took the opportunity to move his hands lower. He didn’t stop until he cupped her butt and then he pulled her up so that her legs were wrapped around his waist.

“This is good,” he murmured, keeping one hand on her backside while the other sank into all that silky hair that now hung in wet ropes.

Her face was level with his and he stared into her eyes for half a second before sliding his mouth over hers. Her lips were soft and full, but there was hesitation there—he felt it.

Teague eased into the kiss, taking his time to taste and to touch and to savor. He slid his tongue along the corner of her mouth, but went no further until he felt her relax. And then he slid inside, his tongue coaxing her open.

Damn, if it was possible, she tasted even better than he’d imagined.

Teague kissed her slowly. Thoroughly. He tasted every inch of her mouth before making his way down her neck. She was pliant against him and when he found the spot where her pulse beat so rapidly, he knew she was just as affected as he was. She moaned and clutched at his shoulders.

“Teague,” she whispered.

He paused, eyes on her face. “Do you want me to stop?” It was hard for him to get the words out because he was so damn worked up for this woman.

Half lidded, she looked down at him and shook her head, those big eyes of hers glistening. She mouthed the word, ‘no,’ and with a wicked grin, he continued his assault. He held her tightly and when she bent backward, he took the opportunity and opened his hot mouth over her breasts.

Even through the thin wet cotton of her shirt she felt amazing, and he nipped and tugged, using his tongue and mouth until she was squirming against him.

By this time Teague was breathing heavy and dealing with his own situation. His erection was painful and if he could have ripped off her bottoms and buried himself inside her, he would have. The need in him was strong, and he paused for a moment, resting his head on her chest.

“I want you,” he said roughly.

For a few seconds, there was nothing but his heavy breathing, the gentle swell of water lapping at his waist, and the night sounds of cottage country.

Tentative fingers rested on his shoulders and he tilted his head so that he could see her face. Wait…was that…was she crying?

“I don’t think I can, Teague.” Her voice trembled. “I mean I want to but I…I’m not sure.”

He took a moment, startled to realize how badly he wanted her. Maybe he should have backed off. Taken the hint and cut things off before they got too intense. But something in her eyes—the vulnerability and the pain—struck a chord inside him and he pressed one last kiss to that sweet spot in her neck.

Her pulse still pounded hard. He liked that.

“We’ll take this slow. You say when. We don’t have to have sex tonight. We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

She gazed past him, up at her dark cottage. “Could we just sleep together?” Her eyes shot back to his. Anxious. Luminous. “Without the sex? I’m sure that sounds weird, but I…”

He watched her intently, liking the play of shadow on her delicate features. Liking the heartbreaking honesty. “It doesn’t sound weird.”

She stared at him for a long time, saying nothing, her hands tracing the scars that dimpled his shoulder.

“I miss being held,” she whispered, her words tumbling from her. “I miss the warmth of another body beside me. I miss knowing I’m not alone. Even if it’s just for a night, that would be so…nice.”