Forbidden Pleasure by Lora Leigh Page B
Authors: Lora Leigh
Tags: Fiction, Erotic Literature
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deeply. Sliding back into his bed wasn't a problem, and if he was aware of the fact that he made certain he didn't touch her as he settled down to sleep, then he didn't give it much thought.
Things had been odd for him for a while now. He was tired of the Bureau, tired of chasing damned perverts, and tired of being aimless. Maybe after this vacation he would follow Mac's example and just turn in his resignation. His cousin had a nice little investigation company that he had been begging Jethro to join. He was thinking about it. Some nights, he was thinking too damned hard about it.
He could pick his own jobs. Pick the deranged individuals he wanted to deal with, and maybe take a decent vacation rather than a forced suspension. Usually without pay. And he could kick some ass without getting written up over it later. He'd stopped a rapist, for God's sake. It wasn't like he had pulled a piddling teenager off a giggling girlfriend and beaten the shit out of him. Not that the director saw it that way. Hell, now, Director Scarborough was madder than hell that he had to deal with the fallout instead.
And maybe it was him. He knew he had been riding a fine line lately. The cruelty and horror men could inflict upon women were starting to really piss him off. He loved women. Cherished them. Thought there was nothing finer than the female mind and softly scented feminine flesh. They were a wonder. Treasures. They should be worshipped by a male hand for the pleasure they gave, never beaten, raped, or terrorized by diseased minds.
Yeah. Maybe it was time to resign. Before he did the world a favor and killed a few of them.
But first, he would go to North Carolina. Hopefully some of the restlessness would ease there, some of the darkness would find a shimmer of light in Keiley's presence. At least, that was his hope.
He stared at the darkened ceiling, the image of her flitting through his mind with a smile hot enough to heat the sun a few degrees hotter, and warm enough to ease the ice in his soul whenever he was around her.
She scared the shit out him.
His lips kicked up at the corner at the thought.
Keiley was the one woman he had dared go after, because he knew he could love her.
Hell, he did love her. So he had given her to Mac, because he knew Mac would do more than love her.
His past had struck again. The moment he had met Keiley he heard his own screams as his uncle dragged him away from his mother's dead body. His father lay beside her in his own blood, a suicide-murder that had ended in Jethro losing the only stability in his life.
His beautiful, adoring mother.
A week later he had entered his first foster home. His uncle had wiped his hands of him, sneering at the thought of raising his brother and sister-in-law's child. A child that came with nothing but the ragged clothes on his back.
And then hell had begun. One foster home after another because the angry child he had become was too much for the harried families to handle.
As he grew older, he grew colder. He pushed back that pain and let the ice build. Until Mac.
Hell, it wasn't even Mac. It was the fact that Mac had dared him to care about the women they shared. He had pushed Jethro, chided him, made him see the joy in sharing a part of himself with those women.
Mac wasn't a man that ever went into anything half-heartedly. And he hadn't let Jethro do it, either.
And then Jethro had seen Keiley.
God, he remembered her smile that night. Remembered her eyes. Remembered feeling his heart ache as he gently steered her and Mac toward each other. Because he knew Mac would love her. He had known beyond a shadow of a doubt that the wild child Keiley kept carefully restrained inside her would call to Mac. That he would cherish her, marry her, and one day, perhaps, allow Jethro to share a stolen moment or two within that warmth.
Because Mac knew all the things Jethro had never learned, despite the other man's attempts to show him how. Mac knew how to capture a woman's
Things had been odd for him for a while now. He was tired of the Bureau, tired of chasing damned perverts, and tired of being aimless. Maybe after this vacation he would follow Mac's example and just turn in his resignation. His cousin had a nice little investigation company that he had been begging Jethro to join. He was thinking about it. Some nights, he was thinking too damned hard about it.
He could pick his own jobs. Pick the deranged individuals he wanted to deal with, and maybe take a decent vacation rather than a forced suspension. Usually without pay. And he could kick some ass without getting written up over it later. He'd stopped a rapist, for God's sake. It wasn't like he had pulled a piddling teenager off a giggling girlfriend and beaten the shit out of him. Not that the director saw it that way. Hell, now, Director Scarborough was madder than hell that he had to deal with the fallout instead.
And maybe it was him. He knew he had been riding a fine line lately. The cruelty and horror men could inflict upon women were starting to really piss him off. He loved women. Cherished them. Thought there was nothing finer than the female mind and softly scented feminine flesh. They were a wonder. Treasures. They should be worshipped by a male hand for the pleasure they gave, never beaten, raped, or terrorized by diseased minds.
Yeah. Maybe it was time to resign. Before he did the world a favor and killed a few of them.
But first, he would go to North Carolina. Hopefully some of the restlessness would ease there, some of the darkness would find a shimmer of light in Keiley's presence. At least, that was his hope.
He stared at the darkened ceiling, the image of her flitting through his mind with a smile hot enough to heat the sun a few degrees hotter, and warm enough to ease the ice in his soul whenever he was around her.
She scared the shit out him.
His lips kicked up at the corner at the thought.
Keiley was the one woman he had dared go after, because he knew he could love her.
Hell, he did love her. So he had given her to Mac, because he knew Mac would do more than love her.
His past had struck again. The moment he had met Keiley he heard his own screams as his uncle dragged him away from his mother's dead body. His father lay beside her in his own blood, a suicide-murder that had ended in Jethro losing the only stability in his life.
His beautiful, adoring mother.
A week later he had entered his first foster home. His uncle had wiped his hands of him, sneering at the thought of raising his brother and sister-in-law's child. A child that came with nothing but the ragged clothes on his back.
And then hell had begun. One foster home after another because the angry child he had become was too much for the harried families to handle.
As he grew older, he grew colder. He pushed back that pain and let the ice build. Until Mac.
Hell, it wasn't even Mac. It was the fact that Mac had dared him to care about the women they shared. He had pushed Jethro, chided him, made him see the joy in sharing a part of himself with those women.
Mac wasn't a man that ever went into anything half-heartedly. And he hadn't let Jethro do it, either.
And then Jethro had seen Keiley.
God, he remembered her smile that night. Remembered her eyes. Remembered feeling his heart ache as he gently steered her and Mac toward each other. Because he knew Mac would love her. He had known beyond a shadow of a doubt that the wild child Keiley kept carefully restrained inside her would call to Mac. That he would cherish her, marry her, and one day, perhaps, allow Jethro to share a stolen moment or two within that warmth.
Because Mac knew all the things Jethro had never learned, despite the other man's attempts to show him how. Mac knew how to capture a woman's
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