Gotta Have It. Lori Wilde

Gotta Have It - Lori Wilde


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of control. And he made her feel both of these things.

      Her nose itched.

      Thank heavens, she’d taken an antihistamine on the drive up, even if it did make her mouth all cottony. It was better than sneezing her head off.

      “After all these years, you still remember me,” he said.

      “Of course she remembers you,” Tess babbled. “She still has sex dreams about you and—”

      Abby trod on Tess’s instep. Shh.

      “Ow!” Tess glared and hopped around on one foot, grossly exaggerating the slight injury.

      Abby sent her a look that said, serves you right for interfering in my love life.

      Durango’s grin widened. “And you were going to be satisfied with just shaking my hand? You haven’t changed a bit, Angel. Still holding back. Still keeping your emotions under wraps.”

      “I don’t think that’s…” Abby began, but got no further.

      “Come ’ere.” He strode forward, encircled her in a bear hug and lifted her off her feet.

      Oh, my.

      Contact with his hard, masculine body threw her into a tailspin. Her breasts were smashed flat against his broad, honed chest. He smelled delightfully of wind and sun and leather.

      His muscles rippled as he squeezed her tight. His hair tickled her ear. His chin made contact with her cheek and the slight scrape of beard stubble shoved her long-dormant libido into overdrive.

      She wanted him.

      Badly.

      Abby froze. She remembered now, with distinct clarity, why she hadn’t taken his side all those years ago when everyone in Silverton Heights had turned against him.

      She’d been too afraid.

      The strength of his life force was just too overwhelming, his passion too raw, his intensity too intimidating for her to handle. She had been the good girl with the stark dread of ending up bad, just like her incorrigible mother.

      Durango kept holding her. His big laugh rumbled intoxicatingly in her ears, his ebony eyes sparkling with devilment, his exhilarating scent blinding her to any other smell.

      No.

      She would not allow herself to get swept away by the force of his energy. She would just wait him out. Eventually he would have to put her feet back on the ground.

      It was like waiting out a hurricane.

      He just kept standing there. Holding her.

      Abby didn’t move. She most certainly did not hug him in return, but his embrace transported her back in time.

      In her mind’s eye, she saw the sexually repressed young girl she had once been longing to explore the red-hot passion surging through her veins but was too scared to act. That’s why she’d kept fantasizing about Durango all these years. Because he was the flame she hadn’t been brave enough to extinguish.

      At last, Durango set her down and stepped away to eye her once more.

      “You look amazing,” he said huskily.

      She dropped her gaze. So do you, she yearned to say but prudently murmured, “Thank you.”

      “You still living in Phoenix?” His face was lively with interest, his body language compelling.

      “Uh-huh.”

      “She’s still living in her father’s house.” Tess rolled her eyes. “Of course, she was getting married, but that deal sort of fell through. The groom ditched her for a stripper on their wedding day. Thank heavens. Ken was all wrong for her.”

      “Ken Rockford?” Durango cleared his throat.

      At the private high school in Silverton Heights that they’d all three attended, Durango and Ken had been archenemies, with Ken the class president and football quarterback to Durango’s rebel without a cause, smoking in the boys’ room.

      Abby nodded but didn’t look at him. Gee thanks, Tess, for making things so much more awkward.

      Durango snorted but said nothing. An uncomfortable silence fell.

      “I’m Tess, by the way.” Tess stepped forward to shake his hand. “Remember me? I was away at boarding school when you and Abby were dating, but we met at your father’s annual Christmas party that year.”

      “Didn’t you used to be a blonde?” he asked.

      “Yep, and a brunette before that and once I did the tricolor blond-brunette-red-hair thing. So I guess you could say I was a calico.” She shrugged. “I’m not like Abby who’s had the same tame hairstyle all her life. I get bored easily.”

      Durango laughed. “I like you, Tess.”

      “I like you too, Durango.”

      Dammit, was Tess flirting with him? And criticizing her hairdo to boot? Abby experienced a flick of jealousy so hot and quick it startled her.

      “Are we going to do this vortex thing or not?” she snapped, irritated with herself because she sounded jealous.

      “Sure, sure.” Durango nodded. “Who’s calling shotgun?”

      “Abby is!” Tess said.

      “Or we could both just sit in the back.”

      “No, no, you two need to catch up on old times,” Tess announced, and shoved Abby toward the passenger side of the Jeep.

      “No, really, there’s no need. I’m happy with the back,” Abby argued.

      But Durango was getting behind the wheel and Tess was sprawled out across the back seat.

      Move over, Abby mouthed silently.

      Tess shook her head.

      Abby waggled her finger at her. I’m going to get even with you for this.

      Saucily, Tess stuck out her tongue.

      Durango started the engine, leaving Abby no choice except to climb into the passenger seat beside him.

      She stopped short when she spied a credo medallion dangling from the rearview mirror. The silver lettering against the red background caught the sun and glinted enticingly.

      Freefall, it read.

      Freefall. Didn’t that just about sum up Durango? And her fantasies concerning him.

      Her dreams always involved an element of danger and risk. In her reveries, he was usually a virile pirate or a black-hearted bandit or a lawless mercenary.

      She remembered his hot kisses, how they’d both frightened and thrilled her. She recalled the way his fevered hand had felt sliding up underneath her shirt, expertly unhooking her bra. She recollected how he’d shocked her young sensibilities by pressing the length of his male hardness against her yearning thigh. She could not forget the way her heart had pounded and how much it had scared her. This desperate wanting.

      And it appeared nothing had changed!

      I am not giving in to desire. I’m not like my mother. I’m a controlled person. I am. I am. I am. This had been her solemn mantra in high school and it was still her mantra now.

      So why did she suddenly feel like she was in an irrevocable tailspin?

      Abby sneezed into a tissue and then fastened her seat belt. She dropped her hands into her lap and struggled to get her heart rate under control. She had had no concept that seeing Durango again would affect her so profoundly.

      Of course if she hadn’t been ambushed by Tess’s subterfuge, she would have been more prepared for their meeting, more in control of her emotions, more patient with her distressing reaction. She shot a glance back at her wily friend, who had her face tilted up to the morning sun and was grinning one


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