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“But you’ve been volunteering so much lately.”

He’d decided to volunteer at the senior center on a whim,
much as he’d decided to sext Karyn. One day he would learn. He hoped. But he’d
had too much time to think, and the center needed help.

Somewhere along the way, he’d grown to enjoy going there a
couple of times a week. Much to his surprise, he’d discovered sometimes he
liked people. Emphasis on
sometimes
.

He sighed. “So you think that means I’ve got my sucker card
already punched?”

She ignored him as she usually did. “You don’t want to help
little kids?”

“You said they were high school students.”

“Junior high. It’s career day. They come to the shops on the
block, check out the different businesses, participate in a typical day. Then
they get candy at each stop.”

“So what the hell’s the thing with the clown?”

“Well, duh, there have to be people in costume. You’ll be
wearing the most rockingest wig ever and I’ll do your hair. Live
demonstrations. Come on. The kids will love you. You’ll be the meanest clown
these kids have seen since the Stephen King movie.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Jeffy—”

“If you call me Jeffy one more time, you’re going to find
your clown wig in a very unpleasant location.”

Her giggle made him grin. “Threats of violence won’t deter
me. Now what do you say?”

There could be only one answer, and they both knew it. Even
if he wanted to say no, he couldn’t have. She’d made such progress in the last
year. Transferring into a diploma program at the cosmetology school, sticking
with her new job, booting Karyn’s sloppy seconds to the curb—though it had
supposedly been mutual.

It had also occurred shortly after
he
and Karyn had
spent the night together.

As tempted as he’d been to do some investigating to see if
Lon had left his sister to reunite with his wife, he hadn’t. If they’d gotten
back together, he was happy for them. Ecstatic. He wished them the
mother-effing best.

“I’ll do it,” he said under his breath, hoping she couldn’t
hear him.

“Yay, thank you. You’re the most awesome brother ever.” She
puffed out a giant breath. “So what size clown suit should I get you?”

A few minutes later, clown suit sizes squared away, Jeff
propped his bare feet on the railing of his balcony and picked up the bottle on
his side table. He was working his way to drunk—slowly, steadily and with
little enthusiasm. The wine had yet to give him the slightest buzz. But with
the fall breeze carrying the aroma of some lucky jerk’s bonfire and his body
comfortably slumped in his chair, it tasted mighty fine.

He closed his eyes, let his head fall back. Gorgeous night.
Warm, windy, ripe with possibilities. Would be perfect if he—

His cell went off and his eyes shot open to the sounds of
All
My Ex’s Live in Texas
. But it wasn’t a phone call, as evidenced by the
abbreviated tone. He stared at the readout, his heartbeat slamming against his
ribs in damn near manic joy.

What r u wring?

His thumbs moved of their own accord. Just as well because
he couldn’t think. He was reasonably certain he wasn’t asleep, but this felt
like a dream.

A loincloth and body oil. U?

The pause lasted just long enough that he wondered if he’d
imagined the whole thing. Then came more bars of the song that would make him
smile for the rest of his life.

Plastic wrap.

His eyebrows shot up.

A full roll or partial?

Another pause.

U r easy, aren’t you?

When it comes to u, yes. Vry. Where are u?

Every second that passed made him ache for George Strait.
When the ringtone sounded and he read her text—
look over the railing
—he
leaped to his feet and braced his forearms on the cool metal. In the advancing
twilight she stood next to a sleek coupe in the small parking lot, face tilted
upward. And she was grinning.

Like an angel. Like every fantasy he’d ever had, with or
without optional whipped cream. She waved and he waved back, feeling vaguely
stupid but unable to keep a dopey grin from forming.

I’m looking. U coming up?

R u up?

U know it. R u wet?

Oh yeah. And I brought condoms.

His grin threatened to split his cheeks.

Genius. Apt. 301.

He watched her until she disappeared under the small awning
that shaded the back entrance, awed by the long, dark hair swinging down her
back. Distracted by it, he almost missed the sway of her butt in what looked
like dark denim and the click of her heels—

Heels. Dark denim. Dear God.

He practically ran to the door just to watch her ascend the
stairs. She reached the top step, transforming the ripped stair runner and
dingy, paint-chipped walls just by virtue of her sexy smile.

It wasn’t even Christmas yet and his gift had just arrived.

Loose hair, tight jeans that clung to her butt, a scanty
little shirt that left a slice of her belly bare and showed off her freckled
shoulders. And her nipples. She hadn’t worn a bra, as requested.

Holy fuck.

She’d swept her eyelids with smoky makeup and her dark-pink
lips looked plump enough to suck. His cock jumped against his fly with such
urgency he had to brace a hand on the doorjamb to keep from tackling her.

“What do you think?” She turned, modeling for him. “I went
for three-inch heels instead of four because I didn’t want to trip. And this
isn’t exactly a tube top—”

Close enough. “Get in here.”

Instead of doing as he asked, she shook the plastic
drugstore bag she carried. Friggin’ tease. “Uh uh. If I go in there, we’ll be
staying.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes.” She nodded solemnly. “I have things to show you.”

He didn’t doubt it. “Like what?”

“Like my cottage.” At his prolonged look, she added, “And my
studio. Just in case you forgot them.”

He grinned. She’d fought for the house? And won it,
apparently? He wanted to hug her but he managed to restrain himself. Giving her
a hug in the state he was in might mean a whole lot of getting naked right here
in the hallway. “Your cottage, hmm?”

“Yes.” Her smile lit up her face. “All mine. Decorated just
the way I want it. No coloring within the lines. I changed the bedroom
completely too. Now nothing matches.”

The glee in her voice triggered a laugh. He loved seeing her
like this. Sexy and happy and most of all, free.

He hoped to God she was free.

“I can’t wait to see it. All of it. But why don’t you come
in? Since you’re here already and all. Promise, my apartment’s not quite as bad
as I made it seem,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to ensure he hadn’t
left any old takeout cartons on the coffee table. Nope. No dirty clothes on the
sofa either. He was golden. “It’s small and I’m not the best housekeeper but—”

She eased around him, wiggling that taut butt over parts of
him that greatly appreciated the attention. “So give me a tour.”

He shut the door and stared as she strode across his living
room. Hot damn, had she spray-painted on those jeans?

“You convinced me. I want to see your place before we go.”

“Go?” Why couldn’t he just come? The way she looked, it
wouldn’t take more than a minute or two.

“Yes.” She swiveled on her heels and planted her hands on
her hips. “What did you think? That I’d just stroll in here, we’d have sex and
that’s that?”

“I didn’t think it so much as not see any other option.” He
glanced down at the front of his jeans. His weren’t nearly as noteworthy as
Karyn’s, if one somehow missed the painfully obvious erection poking through
them. “Get my drift?”

“Another booty call, huh?” She glided across his threadbare
carpeting as if were a priceless rug, her expression intense.

Shit, had he pissed her off? No matter. He would beg.
Without shame. Anything she asked for would be hers for the taking.

As she reached him, he glimpsed the light in her eyes. The
challenge. “I tried to make it a full year since we met,” she said before he
could speak. “So we could celebrate our anniversary.”

“But you caved, huh? Which I’m very glad about, by the way.”
He smiled and dropped his gaze, unable to help himself.

Correctly deciphering his quick glance at her hand, she held
it up. Four silver rings gleamed on her fingers. “I’ve been divorced for three
months and sixteen days, just so you know.”

He gave a brisk, businesslike nod as she set aside the
drugstore bag. From where she stood she couldn’t hear the wild thumping of his
heart. He hoped. “Know the hours too?”

“Hmm.” She tapped one lavender nail against her lips. “I’d
say ei—” The word ended under his mouth, right before he swept his tongue
between her lips and got to work showing her how much he’d missed her.

She met him kiss for kiss, her hunger every bit as palpable
as his own, winding her fingers through his hair while she used her other hand
to start opening buttons. Too many buttons. By the time she’d stripped him to
his thin undershirt he’d cursed his tendency to dress in layers.

“What about you?” she asked between gasping breaths. She
tugged his shirt out of his jeans and shoved her hands beneath, exploring his
abdomen with rapid, grasping strokes.

What about him what? She didn’t really think he could
process questions right now, did she? Especially when she stepped back and
tugged her tiny top over her head and revealed all she wasn’t wearing
underneath. Taut rosy nipples crowned her glorious breasts, twin cherries on
the sundae he wasn’t eating. Yet. Soon she’d be his goddamn dinner, dessert and
midnight snack all in one.

She grasped her thin leather belt, pausing. “You’re not
seeing anyone, are you?” A year’s worth of doubts hung in the question.

Annoyed she’d somehow slipped out of his arms, he drew her
right back and trailed openmouthed kisses down the side of her neck. She
smelled of soap and crisp cotton, hanging fresh on the line. No fancy perfumes.
No floral shampoos. Just pure, sexy woman.

“Not seeing. Not dating. Definitely not fucking. Any other
questions?”

Without hesitation, she flipped open his button fly and
yanked down the zipper, her nails scraping his rigid cock through his boxers.
“Just one,” she breathed, falling to her knees and drawing him free of the worn
denim. Whatever that question was soon became unimportant, at least for the
time being.

She tugged his jeans and boxers down his thighs and lowered
her head to take him in her mouth. He hissed at the contact, hissing again as
she flicked her tongue over his slit. Soft noises left her throat when she
sucked him in deep. Then deeper still.

His legs locked and his mind went beautifully, blissfully
blank. He couldn’t overthink when he was with her. She took him to a whole new
place, one he’d missed for three hundred and fifty-seven interminable days.

He couldn’t stop watching her. This wasn’t just an act to
her, something she had to do to get where she wanted to go. She got off on it.
Her intent expression and her rhythmic sucking proved it.

That and her low, desperate moans.

She didn’t swallow him or try anything crazy, merely
pleasured him. Giving herself the same unselfish way she’d opened up to a
virtual stranger in a coffee shop on a snowy night. Her excitement fed his own.
Multiplied it. Made him shake and yes, beg. He couldn’t have held back if he
tried.

He dropped his head against the wall and reached down for a
handful of her hair. So soft. It poured through his fingers yet offered a
sturdy rope when he needed to hold on. She moaned when he pushed deeper,
testing her limits. But she only opened farther and took more.

Her entrancing eyes riveted him in the advancing twilight.
Smoky, sensual. Almost as arousing as her mouth. They offered a wordless urge
for him to fall and let her catch him. To believe she would.

A flash of silver caught his attention and he saw her thumb
moving against the seam of denim between her legs. Pressing. Digging the fabric
against her center, building the friction just like she increased the pressure
on his dick, sucking so hard he didn’t jump so much as lurch over the edge.

His shout reverberated through the room, followed by the
sound of her swallowing. So damn sexy. He shuddered and gripped her hair,
anchoring himself to reality while his system spun out of control.

Her low murmurs continued while she gave him her own version
of a sponge bath, licking and nuzzling until he no longer thought his weak legs
could support him. Then she rose and wrapped her arm around his neck, bringing
his mouth to hers for a long, erotically wet kiss. She slid her tongue around
his, pulling it between her lips and reminding him exactly where she’d had her
mouth last.

As if he could ever forget.

Though it pained him, he made himself put some distance
between them as he cupped her face. “So what was that you said about not
rocking a man’s world?” He asked hoarsely.

Not surprising he was hoarse. She’d just given him the best
blowjob of his damn life.

“Technically that counted as foreplay.” She licked her lips
and smiled at his groan. “The
rocking
portion of the evening will have
to wait.”

“You’re telling me. My fucking knees are still shaking.”

When she grinned, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around,
settling her back in his arms where she belonged. She gasped as he undid her
jeans and pushed his hand into them, expecting to encounter her panties. What
he found was the scorching heat of her wet pussy.

“Shit, Karyn.” He bit her earlobe and savored the jolt that
shot through her body. “You like giving blowjobs, don’t you?”

“I like…” She moaned at the insistent press of his index
finger against her clit. He palmed her breast with his other hand, squeezing
gently. He plucked at her nipples, first one then the other, her soft cries
goading him. God, he loved her breasts. Full and perfect and meant for him to
suck. His. All his.