“Sex is only dirty when you do it right.” –Anonymous

Lara

Fear pools at the base of my spine, but I keep moving to the other side of the bar.

He isn’t supposed to be here.

He’s supposed to be dead.

And while I’m reeling with the joy of finding him alive and well, I’m having difficulty breathing knowing why we’re here. He can’t figure us out.

“I always wanted to visit New Orleans,” Aleister interrupts the panicked thoughts that have been swirling in my brain since I entered the dining car and saw Mark sitting at the bar. I couldn’t believe it was really him until Esterhaus confirmed it. “Tell me your favorite part of the city.”

Aleister has a thin mustache and greasy hair, and he smells like the inside of a shoebox. Still, I keep him between Mark and me like a shield.

“The darkness,” I answer truthfully. “I miss the supernatural hanging in the air.”

His eyes light, and I know I’ve said the right thing to tempt him. I know everything about him. I came prepared—or I thought I did. Still, I didn’t come this far, do this much work, to be thrown off my game by a ghost. No matter how many of my dreams he has haunted.

“I am a student of the supernatural,” Aleister says, rising from his chair. “If it’s the supernatural you seek, we can contact it easily in my room.”

A noise like a growl comes from the guy crouched over a tumbler of scotch behind him. I ignore it.

My eyes narrow playfully. “Monsieur Fragonard, are you trying to lure me to your state room?”

“I would never insult you that way.” He steps back and presses his palm to his chest, a gesture he seems to favor. “My family comes from a line of gypsies. I myself am a medium. I can serve us tea and read the leaves, or…” He inspects the group, eyes gleaming. “We need at least three people to have a séance. You all shall join us, yes?”

“Oh, I don’t know… I’m afraid.” Molly widens her baby blue eyes and steps back from where she has been allowing Baron Esterhaus to examine her necklace—while also giving him an excuse to grope her body.

“There, there,” the old man says, patting her shoulder. “You have nothing to be afraid of as long as I’m here.”

Other than your cock, I think with a sneer.

“You’ll protect me from the spirits?” She clutches his arm and arches her back, jutting her breasts upward so they make contact with his chest.

The baron coughs, and I imagine that put a rise in his pants. It makes me nauseated, and I struggle to keep the past out of my mind.

It’s a constant struggle, ongoing and fierce.

“I’ll play.” Mark rises from his seat and turns to face me.

His voice has changed in the years since we’ve been apart. It’s deeper, more formal, manly, like the beard covering his face. It’s the first time I’ve ventured this close to him since I entered the car. He towers over me, and a shiver passes through my body. A memory of our bodies intertwined nudges at the recesses of my mind.

Turning away, I feign ignorance. “What exactly are you saying?” I ask Fragonard.

“We shall have a séance.” He extends his arms dramatically. “We shall call on the spirits that dwell in this land to tell us their secrets. It’s a perfect night for it, dark and wild.”

Little does he know…

He steps forward, and I’m left standing shoulder to chest with Mark. I don’t look up, but the heat radiating off him melts away the chill of this night, the tension of what’s to come.

He was always tall, but when I knew him before, he was slim. Now his suit strains around his biceps and across his chest, hinting at a bulk he didn’t have as a young man running around a broken-down theater, pretending he could protect me from the demons.

I wonder what scars he’s hiding.

I wonder if beneath that beard I would find a silver line from the blow he took to the chin.

The blow I thought had killed him.

“We can’t start right away.” I don’t take Fragonard’s elbow when he extends it.

“We must strike while the iron is hot!” he says, excitement thick in his tone.

“I’d like to freshen up first.” I step away from his pressure, needing time to prepare.

“Yes, and you were going to show me the book about my necklace,” Molly says to the baron. “What if we meet in a half hour?”

Aleister is pouty, but he agrees. “I shall set the stage.” His eyes go to the brass clock above the entrance. “Arrive at my state room at eleven-thirty.”

I’m at the door, and my eyes are irresistibly drawn to Mark’s. Our gazes catch, and for a moment, I can’t look away. My heart beats faster, and I have trouble breathing normally.

So many words need to be said, so many questions. They stick in my throat like shards of glass. Our possible reunion drifts through my brain like a piano refrain—pure notes, high and clear like crystal raindrops falling one after another from the pointed tip of a leaf.

My hesitation draws him to me. I want him to follow me, and it’s all I can do not to beckon to him with my hand.

I don’t need to.

As I leave the dining room, I feel him behind me. I walk steadily but slowly through the tilting hallway to the first set of doors connecting this car to mine. The latch is stiff, and I jerk, trying to open it until warm hands cover mine. Another shiver as I’m surrounded by the scent of fresh citrus and clean linen.

He pulls the latch easily to the side, and I whisper a thank you. He doesn’t speak, and I continue through the next hallway with him at my back, all the way to my door.

With every step closer, the muscles in my stomach grow tighter. My heart squeezes out every beat, and anticipation flames hot in my veins. My entire body is tight as a wire when I touch my door handle.

He waits, and my insides clench. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I slide the wooden door open and step into the dim, narrow room. I don’t close the door behind me. I remain facing the bed, which has already been turned down. A small square of chocolate is on my pillow.

Behind me, I hear the door slide shut, and my hand covers my stomach. I turn slowly to see him waiting there, standing just inside the room. His blue eyes are round as if he’s wondering what I will do, if I will scream or tell him to get out.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

I’m the first to speak. “I thought you were dead.”

“I never thought I’d see you again.” His voice is quiet like mine, thick with tension.

“What happened to you?” It’s out before I can stop it—the question has been cycling in my brain for years.

He answers as if he knew it would be the first thing I’d ask.

“They took me as far away as they possibly could, dumped me in a ditch in the wilds of Alaska.” He hesitates, clearing his throat before continuing. “What happened to you?”

Shame flares in my chest. “It doesn’t matter. You’re a cop now?”

“A detective, yeah.”

“I’m sorry.” My chin drops, and a curtain of hair slides past my cheek. “I didn’t mean it that way—”

“It’s okay.” His voice gentles, and I dare to look up through my lashes.

A near-smile is in his eyes, and I acknowledge he’s even more handsome now. He’s a man.

“It’s what you always wanted to do. You never changed your mind?”

His brow lowers, and his face grows darker as he thinks about my question. “I wanted to keep you safe,” he says. “I had no power to stop them then, but now—”

“No!” I take a half step forward, and my hand rises. “You did. You were my hero…”

“Heroes didn’t last long in that place.”

The words are bitter, and it almost seems as if he’s been repeating them in his mind the way I’ve been repeating the sight of him battered and bloody, the men kicking him over and over, the gurgling sound of blood filling his lungs, his mouth, until the blow to his head I thought had finished him.

“You’re stronger now. You look…” My cheeks heat as if I’m still a girl. Silly. “You look really good.”

“You’re more beautiful than my memories.” His blue eyes are serious, and I see the lines around his mouth at the edges of his beard. His sensual mouth… “I’ve never forgotten you.”

Those words light a fire in the center of my tight stomach. He moves closer, and my insides quiver, my body draws to him. He’s so close now, my hand is on his chest, and when he looks down, his breath skates over my skin, raising the little hairs there.

“Sometimes when I’d lie in my bed at night alone, I’d imagine you’d escaped from that place.” He places his palm against the bare skin of my upper arm before slowly closing his fingers around me. It’s such a sensual gesture, possessive. “And now you’re here. What are the chances?”

Pretty good, I think, but I don’t want to think that. I want to savor this moment, hold it close and revel in it.

“Sometimes when I’d lie in bed at night alone, I’d remember your kiss.” My voice wavers. “I’d think of how you wanted us to run away.” Blinking up, I meet his darkened eyes. “Where would you have taken us?”

“Anywhere. I would have taken you anywhere to keep you with me.”

My chin lifts, and I mean it as an invitation. “I would have gone.”

Two hands on my upper arms tighten, and he pulls me firm against his chest. I exhale a gasp, and he’s breathing as quickly as I am. Our mouths are so close. My lips are heavy with need, and my panties flood with heat.

Still he hesitates.

“I want to kiss you,” he growls, leaning forward. The grip on my upper arms grows tighter, and he moves closer, inhaling deeply at the side of my hair. “You smell like everything good I remember from those days. I want to taste you again…”

“Please…” The word escapes on a whisper.

Full lips cover mine, capturing and pulling them with his kiss. I’m consumed by his heat. My fingers clutch the fabric of his sleeves, and I press myself flush against his granite chest. Holding my arms, our lips never part as he walks me the short distance, slamming my back against the wall. I’m off my feet, and my chin drops back as his mouth follows a line down my throat, kissing, lightly biting.

His beard scrapes at my skin, and I moan. My pussy clenches, hot and throbbing against the friction of his waist. My back arches, and I push my breasts higher, craving the rough feel of his mouth on my body.

“Fuck,” he groans, finding the line of my collarbone with his lips. “I want you so much.”

“Yes,” I murmur. “Yes, yes.”

Reaching for his collar, I grab and push the blazer off his shoulders. His hands leave me briefly to allow it to fall to the floor. The moment it’s off, his hands are back at my waist, pulling my silk shirt higher, sliding rough palms against the smooth skin of my sides.

“You feel so good…” His lips move against my neck, and I tilt my head to the side to give him better access.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” I gasp. “Make my dreams come true.”

A low groan, and he leans back. Our eyes meet, his gaze hot with desire. His caramel hair is messy and pushed forward from my fingers threading through it, and his lips are a straight line in his luscious beard. It’s a moment of heavy breathing and evaluation, and it lasts a half second before we’re reunited in a kiss.

His tongue is in my mouth, tasting and sliding along the length of mine. I’m gripping, squeezing with my thighs, riding him as he stands holding me against the wall with his body.

Large hands grip my ass, and he turns us, taking the few steps to the bed, before depositing me roughly on my back. My legs fall open, but my pants keep it from being the invitation I want. Quickly, I unfasten my waistband and shove them down, taking my thong bikini with them.

He watches, unfastening the cuffs of his dress shirt and the top two buttons before pulling it over his head. My breath disappears at the sight of his body, muscles flexing with every breath, lines crossing his abdomen, light hair dusting his chest. His arms are at his sides, and his fists clench as he watches me lie back again, allowing my legs to fall open, giving him a full view of wet heat.

“Larissa,” he says, and he falls to his knees at the side of the bed.

“Oh, God!” I cry out as massive arms circle my thighs, pulling me to his mouth.

With a long, slow pass, he drags his tongue from my core to my clit, and my back arches off the bed as I moan loudly. He pauses at my clit, pulling and sucking at the sensitive bud until my thighs jump with every pass. My hands grip his broad shoulders, clutching and scratching, wanting more and yet at the same time, not being able to take much more of the intense pleasure.

“Mark!” My hips buck and my stomach shudders as the orgasm blazes through my pelvis.

He leans back and looks at me. My body lowers, and I’m panting, watching him with hazy, sated eyes as he stands and lowers his slacks. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, and my throat catches. His cock is long and fat and rising like a steel rod from his pants, just like remember.

“Oh, yes,” I gasp.

He leans forward again and kisses my inner thigh, making me jump and emit a little cry. I’m a live wire of sensitivity.

“Turn over,” he orders, and I’m quick to comply, rolling onto my stomach.

I look over my shoulder, and he exhales another noise before catching me by the hips and jerking my ass up. My stomach flutters and my forehead drops to my hands. He’s rough and demanding. I half expected him to be gentle, filled with wonder, but he is not. He approaches me as if he knows exactly what he wants and is determined to possess it.

He positions me on all fours at the end of the bed then moves my knees wider, lowering my pelvis so it aligns with his. Two fingers dip inside, testing my wetness, and I arch up with a moan.

“Yes,” he hisses. “You’re ready for me.”

I am so ready…

He lines his tip, sliding it up and down my wetness, then with no warning, he drives his enormous cock balls deep into me. My head drops, and an animalistic moan rips from my throat. Just like before, I’m completely filled. His thighs are flush against mine, and he holds it a moment, swearing low and savage.

As if finding his breath, he pulls back and slams into me again, finding a rhythm as the thrusting begins, hard and steady.

In…

In…

In…

My eyes roll back in my head. He’s so big, with every thrust, he hits my G-spot, and my second orgasm tremors, searing the lower half of my body. It’s rising fast and strong, and I’m almost afraid for it to break. I’m afraid the onslaught of pleasure will consume me.

His large hand grips my hip, jerking me against him, and I’m bucking my hips, helping him drive deeper.

“You like that.” His voice is a decadent, dirty growl.

“Yes… Yes…” My voice is a shuddering wail, and I’m lost in the rising crest of my orgasm. “More—give me more…” I beg for everything this man will give me.

I’m only dreaming of it when a firm slap! sends pain stinging across the skin of my ass. He smooths it quickly with his palm, and my legs begin to quiver.

Slap! Another strike against my tender skin, and my pussy clenches around his massive cock.

“Oh…” I wail, the stinging pain heightening my pleasure.

“That’s good.” A rough laugh is in his voice, and he gives me one more firm Slap! before returning his grip to my hip for three more deep thrusts.

My knees lift off the mattress. My orgasm twists into an unbearable tightness in my stomach, and I break, shattering into a million pieces, all screaming his name.

I’m shaking, thighs convulsing, and with a shout, he holds me steady, pulsing and filling me until it’s slipping down my legs. We ride it out together until we’re left breathing heavily, trying to recover.

My hips are clutched in his fists, ass raised, and he holds me against his pelvis, his cock still inside me. I’m collapsed forward on the bed, boneless and deeply satisfied. It’s been so long since we were together, so long since I had a mind-altering fuck.

Slowly, he lowers me, placing a hand against my back when he slides out. I don’t move. I lie weakly, listening to him inside the tiny bathroom. The sound of water running, and he returns to me, touching me gently with a warm cloth, cleaning me.

He’s briefly gone again before he returns, kneeling on the bed and pulling me into the pillows. He tucks my body against his chest, and I wrap my arm around his waist. My cheek is at his shoulder, my nose to his neck, and I inhale the scent of sweat and sex and him. A faint hint of citrus lingers on his skin, and I can’t resist kissing him.

“I knew it would be this way.” His voice is a low rumble. “Fiery and wild.”

“You make me come so hard.”

My arm is in his hand, and he traces his thumb back and forth over my skin. His other hand wraps around my long hair, holding it in a ponytail and then sliding down the length over and over.

“When I would remember being with you…” He hesitates as if choosing his words. “I could hear the little noises you make. I could taste your pussy. I could feel you clenching around my dick. It was torture.”

My eyes squeeze shut, and I fight back the past. I’ve kept those days locked down tight inside. I wouldn’t let my memories of him torment me. Now we’re together. It’s like a dream come true, and I have to let him go.

I can’t let him make me weak or distract me from my purpose. My strength has returned, and I push against the mattress, moving so I’m sitting up beside him on the bed.

He fucked me so well I saw stars, but it doesn’t change the reason I’m here.

“It’s so good to see you again,” I say, daring a look at his face.

His expression is not surprised. He smiles as if he knew I would behave this way. Everything he does should be a warning sign to me. It’s as if he knows exactly what to do to me and exactly how it will affect me, how I’ll respond.

He sits forward in the bed, and my brow collapses at the sight of his stomach muscles flexing. He rotates his legs and stands, giving me the full view of his square, compact ass. The man is a column of tight, rippling muscles, and he’s so fucking sexy.

“I’ll leave you to get cleaned up.” He steps into his slacks and jerks them over his hips. They hang loose for a moment while he pulls the pale blue dress shirt over his head again.

As he fastens the buttons, his blue eyes never leave mine. He shoves his shirttail into his pants before fastening them and stepping to the door to scoop up his blazer.

It’s all very calm and methodical, no anger, simply what happens next. It’s unnerving to me. It makes me want to stop him, tell him to wait.

Try to explain.

“I’ll see you in Fragonard’s stateroom in…” He checks the clock on my bedside table. “Five minutes.”

“Shit!” My head jerks to check the clock as well, and I scamper off the bed.

“I’m sure Aleister won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late.”

I look up in time to see him stepping through the door into the narrow hallway. A sly grin curls his lips, and my well-fucked pussy actually clenches in response. Damn this man. I shake my head and he slides the door closed, fastening it with a quiet click.

I’m in the shower, doing my best to keep my hair dry, my makeup away from the spray, and that wall back around my heart. What happened just now was more than dangerous. It could be deadly.