Swelter by D. Jackson Leigh

Author:D. Jackson Leigh
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781626397965
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2016-12-12T23:00:00+00:00

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Teal quietly closed her bedroom door and collapsed against it. Why the heck had she done that? She hadn’t had the courage to look into August’s eyes to judge her reaction. She’d just spun on her heel and escaped down the hallway. August might still be standing there in the dark living room. Or she might be in the office right now, telling BJ that he had to put her on the next bus to New Mexico.

She remained slumped against the door for several minutes. What was she waiting for? Did she think August was going to come knock on her door, then kiss her senseless when she opened it? This wasn’t one of those romance novels she was always reading. Things didn’t really happen that way. Nobody was that romantic in real life.

She pushed off the door with a sigh and tossed her new hat onto the bed. It was sweet that August had bought it. On the other hand, you could think of it as creepy that she was checking up on Teal’s browsing history. Too bad August used a personal log-on so Teal couldn’t check her history.

After her shower, she slid into some soft boxers and a thin racer-back tank. She’d taken her time, enjoying the soapy lather, washing her hair, shaving her legs. Those small physical pleasures always made her feel better when her mind was littered with unresolved mental and emotional detritus. Still, a small headache was beginning across her forehead, probably her sinuses swelling from the humidity of the storm. She found her decongestant tablets, but she needed a bottle of water from the kitchen. Maybe she should throw on a shirt over her thin tank top. Nah. She’d be quick. Everybody else was probably in bed by now.

Teal opened her bedroom door and slipped into the hall, only to come face-to-face with August, still in her damp jeans and sleeveless shirt white against her tanned arms. The yellow glow of a lamp filtered through the partially open door of August’s bedroom behind her. Her blond hair, barely darkened by the rain, was slicked back to fall around her collar.

Clutching the pills in her hand, Teal felt nearly naked as August’s gaze roamed over her bare legs and very short boxers. She wondered if her nipples were visible under the thin, white ribbed tank, because she’d swear she could feel them harden as August’s eyes lingered there. She opened her mouth to say something.

August stepped forward, gently grasping Teal’s nape and pressing her against the door she’d just closed. Before words could come, August’s lips were on hers, hot and insistent. Yes. Teal hooked her fingers in the belt loops of August’s low-riding jeans and held on. August still smelled of horses and saddle oil, sun-warmed flesh, and cleansing rain—things that were real and honest. Teal hummed as she opened to August’s hungry, exploring tongue. Sweet Jesus, her knees were actually going weak. She clutched fistfuls of August’s shirt to steady herself, then jerked the shirt’s tail from August’s jeans.

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