Yours for the Night (40 page)

“I forgot the condom,” he said, still holding her flush against the wall though he had zipped up.

She’d broken the courtesan cardinal rule. In her need to have him, she’d actually forgotten the cardinal rule. It had never happened before. And she didn’t care. This was Dax. He was everything. “I’m clean. I get tested regularly.”

Backing off, he tipped her chin. “I’m more worried about what you think of me.”

“I—” See? There he was worrying about her again, above himself. 251

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She closed her eyes, vaguely wondering why these people hadn’t figured out they were on the doorstep. Hadn’t they heard the car? And maybe thinking about them was an excuse not to face the truth about herself, not to make him face it.

Hard as it was for her, she met Dax’s gaze. “I think only the best things about you.” He’d done nothing bad to her. He’d treated her with respect, provided her with unparalleled pleasure, never judged her. In return, she’d let her insecurities, guilt, and fears punish him.

“I want you. I don’t know how else to prove that.”

Noelle put her hand to his cheek, her eyes drinking in every detail. “I have lied and cheated most of my life.”

“You might have made some mistakes in your marriages—”

She covered his mouth with her fingers. “It’s not like I can tell you every story and confess every crime right now.” She pointed to the front door beside them. “But I will tell you. All of it. You need to know exactly who I am.”

“I know everything I need to.”

“Then maybe I’m the one who needs to tell you.” She dipped her head, rested her forehead against his throat. She’d never been good at confessing. She’d always run when things got tough, found another man to satisfy her; then, in her guilt, she’d rushed headlong into Isabel and Courtesans. She’d never tried to change, never been honest enough to help any of her husbands see what she needed. If she didn’t change now, she never would. And she’d lose another man. Perhaps the most perfect man who’d ever walked into her life.

“Dax, I know this sounds really two-faced, but I’d rather die than watch you make love to another woman. I’m selfish and vain, and I don’t want you to walk away from me, but I can’t reconcile myself to watching. I don’t want you to want her more than you want me.” Her lips trembled. She felt like a child. “I can do everything you want me to, anything, but I can’t watch you do that.”

He tipped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “So you’re jealous of her, but the fact that I’m fine with another man or a bunch of men having you doesn’t bother you?”

She shook her head. “No. Because you always end up making it about me. I don’t know how you do that.” She sighed. “That’s wrong. I know exactly how you do it. You kiss me and you dress me and you shave me and prepare me for them. You make me into a present, and that’s the hottest, most exciting thing 252

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I’ve ever known.”

The blue of his eyes deepened to sapphire as his gaze roved her face. “But I take it all away if I want another woman.”

He’d described it precisely. “Yes,” she whispered. But did he understand?

“I don’t need another woman.”

“How can you not need it? How can you let me put that kind of demand on you?” She didn’t completely understand her own need for it; it simply was.

“Because it doesn’t compromise me or what I wanted out of this relationship.” She opened her mouth, but he didn’t stop long enough for her to say anything. “In the beginning I just wanted a woman to do this with me for fun. I didn’t expect it to last very long. But now I want you to do it with me. It isn’t any good if it’s another woman. I get what I need with you.”

“But I’m self-absorbed, and I—”

With a finger to her lips, he shut her up. “Listen to me,” he said. “I love to watch you. I love to find new and exciting ways to give you pleasure. I’ve never had a woman who would allow me that. It’s more important to me than fucking some woman Isabel found for us. I’d rather watch the two of you share her husband’s cock. I don’t care about any other woman as long as you let me be a part of every sexual adventure you have, whether you plan them or I plan them. Whether I’m there with you or you call me before, during, or afterward. If you’re a freak, then I’m just as bad, because that’s what I’ve been looking for since I was fourteen years old. We match seamlessly.”

She couldn’t do much more than stare at him. Words escaped her. She clutched his shoulders, squeezed, then ran her hands up and down his arms, the smooth material of the tux as sensuous as bare skin. Because it was him.

“You want to be mine, Noelle? Share everything? Every date you have as a courtesan?” His face descended with each sentence until his lips were almost on hers. “Share my bed? My fantasies? My nights? My days?”

She had never trusted a man to do that for her. She’d never trusted a man enough to tell him the truth about her feelings. Dax was different. For him, she wanted to be different, too. “I’d be a total freak if I said no.”

“Then don’t say no.”

“I do, Dax.” It felt like a vow. “I want to be completely yours.”

“Good. Because we’ve got a date.” He pulled back without actually kissing her. She found she could wait. Because he always had a surprise, he always 253

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upped the ante, he always provided exactly what she needed.

“And you look like you’ve just been fucked.” He smoothed the lipstick beneath her mouth. “Properly fucked.” With her hand still in his, he rang the doorbell.

She had thought she didn’t know how to love, that she was incapable, unworthy. He made her see things so differently. With him, everything was different. “Dax,” she said, her heart swelling in her chest, “I think I love you.”

The corner of his luscious mouth lifted. “I know I love you. You’re my dream come true, baby.” He grazed her knuckles with a sweet kiss. “Now let me give you more pleasure than you’ve ever imagined.”

She knew he always would.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jasmine Haynes
has been penning stories for as long as she’s been able to write. With a bachelor degree in accounting from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, she has worked in the high-tech Silicon Valley for the past twenty years and hasn’t met a boring accountant yet! Well, maybe a few. She and her husband live with Star, their mighty moose-hunting dog (if she weren’t afraid of her own shadow), plus numerous wild cats (who have discovered that food out of a bowl is easier than slaying gophers and birds, though it would be great if they got rid of the gophers—but no such luck). Jasmine’s pastimes, when not writing her heart out, are speed-walking through the Redwoods, hanging out with writer friends in coffee shops, and watching classic movies. Jasmine also writes as Jennifer Skully and JB Skully. She loves to hear from readers. Please e-mail her at [email protected] or visit her website www.skullybuzz.comand blog at www.jasminehaynes.blogspot.com.

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