What Happens After Dark (38 page)

“I know.”

“I’m on the pill, and everything was clean on my last doctor’s appointment.” She always had herself tested. Stroking his cock, she kept her eyes down, focused on the flat circles of his nipples. “I want to feel you inside me.”

A man had not taken her without a condom in years. They always had them. As if before they touched her, they knew she was unclean. That it was written on her face, on her body.

Luke had made her clean again.

“There’s only been you.” He stroked her cheek with one finger. “But I always wanted to protect you anyway. Above all else. Now I want you to take me with nothing between us. Flesh to flesh.”

It was like a vow.

Pulling back, she bent down to caress his cock with her tongue, licking away the drop of pre-come, savoring it. He was salty-sweet against her tongue. She’d always loved doing this to him, for him, despite what other men had done to her in the past. She’d loved the power of it with him, even as the power frightened her. Now she could enjoy it simply for the taste of him and that perfect groan that fell from his lips as she sucked him hard and deep.

She rose once again, leaving the glisten of her saliva on his cock. She could do this. She could be normal. She could have everything. “I want you.” There was no shame, no fear. Yes, those emotions would rear their heads again. But not in this moment. And when they did, he would be there.

Lifting slightly on her knees, she laid his cock to her center, rubbed him against her, the heat of his naked flesh branding her his forever. Lowering slowly, she eased him inside, the broad tip of his cock piercing, then filling her all the way to her heart. She closed her eyes, tipping her head back to savor the feeling, so different than when she lay prone beneath him. This was her doing the taking, her staking the claim.

He cupped her breasts, feathered his fingers over her nipples. “Christ, you are so fucking gorgeous.”

Yes. She was. She wasn’t the ugly thing that had knelt at her father’s feet begging forgiveness. She would always have those thoughts and memories, always have to fight them. But it was all right. Luke would help her. For him, she
was
beautiful.

“Fuck me. Take me. Make me yours,” he pleaded.

She rose and fell on him, a steady rhythm that stoked her fire and stroked her G-spot. He put his hands to her hips, but didn’t force the pace. He let her have it the way she wanted it.

And it was so damn good. His hips were firm between her thighs, the hair of his legs soft against her calves. Then he put his thumb to her clit and rubbed her as she rode him.

“Oh my God.” The touch shot her higher. She took him faster, bracing her hands on the bed beside him so she could slam down on his cock. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted.

Then he pinched her nipple. Bree cried aloud. She liked the pain, as if there were a direct line between her nipple and her clit. When he pinched both, she felt everything cut loose with a burst of heat that shot out to her extremities, then flashed back, inward, and exploded in shards of light. She felt his throb, then the pulse of his climax. He wrapped her tight against him, thrusting up to drive deep as the heat of his come filled her, perfect and pure with nothing between them.

“Christ,” he muttered into her hair.

She slid her legs down luxuriously against him, then rolled them both to the side so his cock could remain inside her.

She wanted him inside forever. “That was good,” she said, her lips muffled against his chest. She suddenly felt oddly shy.

“Yeah.”

She tipped her head back to look at him. His gaze was on her, eyes seeming to see straight into her head. “Did it feel like I’ve changed?”

He curled his finger beneath her chin. “That was perfect. And the only change I wanted was for you to let me in.”

“I will.”

“I won’t get pissed if sometimes you pull back.” He said it as if he had no doubt she would at some point.

Of course, she would. She’d get frightened, maybe a bad day at work, or a man like Marbury, a man who reminded her too much of her father. “But I’ll tell you, I promise.”

“Tell me now,” he murmured. “Tell me what happened Thursday. Tell me why you really went to the club.”

She could try to explain that Marbury had frightened her. But Luke couldn’t understand that without knowing everything else, and she’d never told a soul all the details, never said them aloud. Not even this morning with her mother. Even then, she hadn’t said it
all
. Her mother hadn’t needed to hear it. Living in denial, she’d still known the truth deep inside.

Her mother. Sometimes, if you were to move forward, you had to put everything else behind you. You had to forgive so you could forget what needed to be forgotten.

“Tomorrow I have to go talk to my mom, and I want you to come with me.” She twirled a finger in the hair on his chest. “And on Monday I have to see a man who makes me nervous and tell him he’s fired. So I need to practice that confrontation with you.” She would face Marbury, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t still scared. She would always be scared. That just made it all the more important when she confronted what she feared. It would be that much more of a triumph.

Luke tipped her chin, his gaze tender on her. “I’ll help you with anything you need.”

She’d never asked anyone for help. She’d never trusted anyone to help her. She’d never trusted anyone with her fears. Or her terrible secrets. Not since the day her mother had chosen to believe her father rather than her. But now, she would give Luke her trust. “I have a lot of secrets I need to tell you,” she whispered. “And some of them are not so nice.”

She knew without a doubt that Luke would accept her, believe her, stand by her, and never leave her.

In his arms, she was saved. With him, she could face anything, where alone, she’d been lost. She wasn’t lost anymore.

 

HE WAS RELATIVELY NEW TO THE AREA, HAVING MOVED THERE TO start a job last fall, only five months ago. But even so, he didn’t make a habit of prowling grocery stores early in the morning looking for a partner. He’d needed a couple of items, and he didn’t like waiting in line, so he’d stopped in after his run along the canal. That’s when he saw the woman staring at the refrigerated juice section, like a child in front of a candy store window seeing the very thing she wanted and knew she couldn’t have.

She was perfect: blonde hair just past her shoulders, a pretty profile that showcased full ruby lips, tight white T-shirt outlining mouthwatering breasts that were more than even his big hands could hold, and jeans that hugged the delectable curve of her ass. She wasn’t too thin, yet seemed well taken care of. Best of all, there was no ring on her finger. He never played with married women. He came from a long line of attached players with no limits, and he wasn’t about to be like any of them. He’d even gone so far as to avoid marriage for the same reason.

She was no sweet young thing, but closer to his age, forty, or possibly a couple of years younger. He wasn’t into sweet young things, preferring his partners to be older, seasoned, more sure of themselves, of who they were and what they wanted. Women who were old enough to want to try something new, something daring.

He was as staid as they come during work hours, with a position that required a quiet, unwavering authority, steadfast diplomacy, and a lot of psychology. But after hours, his life was his own business. After hours, anything goes.

He smiled as she finally made up her mind and reached for the fridge door. Her breasts plumped with the movement.

Oh yeah, he’d like to try something daring with her.

 

 

RACHEL STARED AT THE ROWS AND ROWS OF JUICE BOTTLES. SHE was a frugal shopper, buying only what was on sale, because in her mind, the sale price was the real price, and anything else meant you were overpaying. She lived for coupons. Penny-pinching was the only way she could make ends meet. Sure, her ex paid half the boys’ expenses since they had dual custody, but the cost of living in the San Francisco Bay area was high; gas prices were astronomical; and cable TV and high-speed Internet, not to mention the boys’ cell phones, just might bankrupt her. She had a full-time job she enjoyed with excellent medical benefits, but she was a receptionist. Her salary barely covered standard monthly expenses. Her ex was the real breadwinner. Their house was underwater so they hadn’t been able to unload it during the divorce settlement, and they were still waiting for the market to recover. In the meantime, she lived in it. The boys were with her every other week; teenage boys could eat you out of house and home. For the most part, she made healthy, home-cooked meals and only occasionally brought home fast food. It would have been cheaper to buy soda for the boys to drink, but she did her damndest to make sure they learned healthy habits.

So she wanted that damn juice, which was on sale at half off, plus she had a coupon. Wouldn’t you know, though, the last bottle had twisted on the rollers, stuck fast, and there wasn’t a grocery clerk in sight to help her out. Well, she was
not
going to be bested by a damn juice bottle. Yanking open the refrigerator door, she put a foot up on the rubberized track, grabbed the edge of the shelf, hauled herself up, and stretched until her fingers just brushed the plastic bottle. If she could just knock it a little, dislodge it . . .

“Let me help.”

The male voice was deep enough and close enough to send a delicious shiver down her spine. She would have gotten out of his way, but she felt him along her side as he leaned into the fridge door with her. His hand to the small of her back set a flame burning low in her belly. She couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. Oh no, this was just too good to miss. With barely a stretch, he straightened the bottle and set it rolling down the tracks to her waiting hand.

She was breathless when she turned to look up, and up some more. He was close enough to make her eyes cross, and she could focus only enough to take in short blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a square, smooth-shaven chin.

“Thank you,” was all she could manage. She didn’t want him to move. It had been so long since she’d felt a man this close, breathed in his pure male scent, musky with testosterone and clean workout sweat.

He stepped back out of the fridge slowly, his body caressing the length of hers for what seemed like eternal moments, until his heat was replaced by the cool blast of refrigerated air.

“My pleasure,” he said in a deep voice that sent her blood rushing through her veins.

She was so used to her ex’s average height that this man, though she was five foot five, made her feel petite. Tall and broad, he was a Viking who’d just stepped off his ship. Except for the running outfit. All in black, tight jogging pants outlined his muscled thighs, and the Lycra shirt framed his powerful chest. She was staring, probably even drooling. In days of old, yeah, he’d have been a Viking or a knight. These days, a cop or a fireman. Or a corporate raider.

The man made her remember how long it had been since she’d had sex. With the divorce and all the crap that went before, it had been two years. Two
years
. She’d been so busy and worried, she’d hardly noticed. Until
this
man had stood so close to her, awakening her.

She realized she must have been staring at him like he was an ice cream cone she was dying to lick. And suck. And swallow.

Too bad she couldn’t afford a relationship right now.

“Well, thanks again.” With great effort, she tore her eyes away and grabbed her shopping cart. A man was the
last
thing she needed in her life. She had enough trouble managing her sons—teenage boys were murder—not to mention her ex. No siree bob, she did not need a man.

Yet she allowed herself one last glance over her shoulder as she wheeled her cart down the meat aisle. He was watching her. His gaze turned her hot inside and out.

No, she didn’t need another man in her life. But she sure wouldn’t mind a little casual sex. At the very least, the Viking was something to fantasize about.

 

 

HE WAS A BELIEVER IN THE LAW OF ATTRACTION. IF YOU WANTED IT badly enough, it would come to you, whatever it was. Like attracts like. He’d felt the sizzle of her body against him. He’d felt her scrutiny, sensed her desire in the quickening of her breath, the perfume of her hormones. So when he started his engine just as she was exiting the grocery store, her full cart and a young clerk trailing in her wake to help load the haul into her minivan, he didn’t feel any need to rush her, get her phone number, give her his. Law of attraction, he’d knew he’d find her again.

Or she’d find him.

With a bachelor’s degree in accounting from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo,
Jasmine Haynes
has worked in the high-tech Silicon Valley for the last twenty years and hasn’t met a boring accountant yet! Okay, maybe a few. She and her husband live with numerous wild cats (one of whom has now moved into the house of her own accord). Jasmine’s pastimes, when not writing, are speed-walking in the Redwoods, watching classic movies, and hanging out with writer friends in coffee shops. Visit her at
jasminehaynes.com
and
jasminehaynes.blogspot.com
.

 

WHAT HAPPENS AFTER DARK
PAST MIDNIGHT
MINE UNTIL MORNING
HERS FOR THE EVENING
YOURS FOR THE NIGHT
FAIR GAME
LACED WITH DESIRE

UNLACED