Feel Like Making Love by Megan Hart (2)

 

That boy could dance. He moved like he was making love to the world, stripping off his tie, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his broad shoulders, undoing his belt and easing open the button and zip on his trousers. He teased. He flirted. He worked the room like he owned it, Audrey included, and the women in there ate it up like ice cream on a spoon.

 

The song slid into another without a break and Joel, clad in tight black boxer briefs, made his way around the room accepting admiration and compensation from the crowd.

 

It was her chance to escape before he came back around, and she leaned over to Karen. "I'm going to head out."

 

"What?" Karen looked dismayed. "Nooooooo!"

 

Audrey shot a glance toward Joel, now bouncing on another woman's lap, and knew she couldn't afford to still be here the next time he made it around to her. "I have a lot of studying to do tomorrow."

 

The lame excuse didn't fool Karen, who rolled her eyes. "On a Saturday?"

 

Audrey shrugged. "I have finals."

 

"All right." Karen sighed, with a longing look back toward the room, where whoops and hollers suddenly rose in a cacophony indicating something big had just happened. "I'm out of dollars anyway."

 

* * * *

 

For once he didn't have to be up early to work at Country Breezes, but though he'd planned to sleep late, Joel was wide awake and staring at his ceiling. He turned his head to look at the pile of money on his nightstand. Seven hundred dollars--a great night's take. It would pay for his books next semester and leave something to jingle in his pockets, too.

 

Nope, he couldn't complain about six hundred and ninety-nine of those dollars. Only one of them he wished he hadn't received. The one from Audrey.

 

She'd been smiling as she tucked it into his waistband, and smiling when they danced. The next thing he knew, she'd up and vanished. She hadn't even said goodbye.

 

Sighing, he slid an arm beneath his head and went back to staring at the ceiling. Maybe Morty was right. Maybe he should just ask her out. She'd seemed to be having a good time while they were dancing. But then she'd left.

 

Damn it.

 

Joel sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. There was only one thing to do about it. Go see her.

 

* * * *

 

Books. Notepad. Pens. Pencils. Pot of coffee. Audrey had everything she needed set out on the table in front of her. Classical music warbled softly from the CD player. She picked up her highlighter and opened the book, but set down the pen a moment later. She poured a mug of coffee and blew on it before she sipped.

 

"C'mon," she muttered. "Get to work."

 

She couldn't concentrate. She'd never really believed the rumors about Joel, had always thought they'd sprung from jealousy and his casual confession to the truth of them his way of dismissing them. A secret agent had seemed as ridiculous an idea as him actually being a male escort--only last night had proven her wrong. Sort of. There wasn't any reason to believe any of the boys in Muy Caliente had done more than dance for dollar bills. No reason to think the whispers about Joel being paid by the orgasm were true.

 

"Of course they're not true," she said aloud. "That's ridiculous. Absolutely..."

 

But was it? Was it really? Joel was handsome. Charming. Generous. Kind, smart, funny... Audrey groaned. Joel was a damn-near perfect guy, a fact she tried constantly to ignore because they were study partners and friends, nothing more.

 

She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the text in front of her, but couldn't seem to manage. What Joel did in his spare time wasn't any of her business. Nor was how he paid for school or anything else. She forced herself to uncap her highlighter again and go over the words in the chapter she was unsuccessfully trying to commit to memory.

 

The trouble was, all she could seem to think about was the way his fingers had linked with hers, that touch as erotic as if he'd thumbed a nipple or stroked between her legs. The way he'd moved with her, the way he'd stared into her eyes when he told her she looked beautiful.

 

Audrey groaned aloud. How on earth was she going to face him again after seeing him that way? How was she going to go back to being his pal, when all she could think about was how his body had felt along hers?

 

That's it. She was a pervert, plain and simple. This was Joel, the same man who'd gone mini-golfing with her and Lauren and lost graciously to the eight-year-old on every hole. The man who passed her notes in class that made her laugh. Joel...

 

"The perfect guy," she said aloud. "Who happens to be either a secret agent or a gigolo."

 

A rap-tap-tap on the kitchen door made her look up, and a moment later the reason for her inability to study appeared when she opened the door.

 

"Joel!"

 

"Hi ya, Audrey." He waited, expectantly, for her to move aside to let him in, and soon she did.

 

"What are you doing here?" She closed the door behind him, glad for the action that gave her an excuse not to look at him right away.

 

"Studying for finals, right?" He set down his backpack on one of the chairs, but paused in unzipping it. He turned to look at her, a brow raised. "Isn't that okay?"

 

"Oh...oh, sure. I didn't think...sure, it's fine."

 

She waved a hand and grabbed another mug for him. She busied herself with pouring coffee, rustling in the cupboard for sugar and creamer and pulling out a package of cookies that she arranged on a plate before setting it on the table.

 

Joel watched her do all that, his expression bemused, and finally reached out to grab her wrist as she sidled by the table to fuss with the music.

 

"Audrey, sit down. Why are you fussing so much?"

 

She looked down to where his hand gripped her. Last night his fingers had linked with hers and their bodies had aligned. He'd told her she looked beautiful. Now, remembering, heat crept up her cheeks and words fled, leaving her with only a shrug to explain herself.

 

Joel let go of her wrist. "It's about last night. Isn't it?"

 

Audrey sat and gripped her mug. "Don't be silly."

 

"Audrey."

 

She looked up.

 

"Are things going to be weird between us now?"

 

"No, of course not." She couldn't lie to him. She sighed. "I feel stupid."

 

Joel sat back in his seat. "For last night?"

 

She nodded, toying with her highlighter. "That's not really my thing."

 

"Didn't you have a good time?"

 

She couldn't read his face, usually so open. Now his brow furrowed. The full mouth, so often tipped into a smile, now curved down.

 

"Well...yes. I did."

 

"Until I showed up?"

 

Audrey wasn't sure what to say, so she shrugged. Nodded.

 

"Never mind," he said. "Let's just get to studying. Okay?"

 

Joel flipped open his book and grabbed a pen. He hunched over the table and scribbled a note or two on his notepad. This wasn't the way they'd studied in the past, silence a barrier between them, but Audrey wasn't quite sure what to do.

 

"I was surprised," she said at last, not looking at him.

 

He looked up, dark eyes not glinting with his usual glee. "How do you think I felt?"

 

They stared at each other for another long moment.

 

"You must see women there who you know," she said finally. "Lancaster's not that big a city."

 

"Women," Joel said. "But not you."

 

The line of ever-present and always ignored tension snapped taut between them. The pen dropped from her fingers and rolled off the table. Neither of them bent to retrieve it.

 

"It's your job," she said at last, voice faint and a bit hoarse. "It's how you pay for school..."

 

"Is that what you think?" he asked, voice gone as low as hers. "That it was just a job...with you?"

 

Audrey got up from the table and took her mug to the breakfast bar to pour more coffee into her still-full mug. "Wasn't it?"

 

She heard the scrape of the chair legs on the hardwood floor and in an instant felt him behind her. She put the mug down hard enough to slop hot liquid onto the breakfast bar and over her hand. She hissed at the sting.

 

"Did you burn yourself?" Joel's hands turned her to face him, and he lifted her hand in his to inspect it.

 

"It's fine," she tried to say, but he'd lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the pink spot, and her voice died.

 

Joel looked up and moved closer in the same motion. The hand he'd kissed went to the front of his shirt, over his heart, which thump-thumped beneath her palm. His went to her hip, fingers splayed.

 

"I meant what I said last night, Audrey. About you being beautiful. I've always thought so, from the first time I met you."

 

She swallowed. The bar behind her back prevented her from moving away. This close, she had to tip her head back to look into his eyes.

 

"I don't have any dollars with me," she whispered.

 

Joel frowned. The hand on her hip gripped tighter. He moved closer. "I'm not working right now."

 

His mouth stopped her from replying. Her arms went around his neck in automatic response to his taste and the way he pushed against her. Her lips parted beneath his, and when his tongue swept inside, she let out throaty gasp that disappeared into his kiss.

 

The heat that had earlier stained her face spread like arcs of sparking electricity through her entire body. The fringes of his hair tickled the backs of her hands. He slid a thigh between hers, pressing upward as he pushed her back against the edge of the bar.

 

Audrey murmured a small protest at the discomfort, and Joel lifted her without breaking their kiss. Her rear slid on the smooth Formica. He caught her startled gasp with another kiss and pushed her thighs apart to move between them, his hands on her hips sliding her forward until their bodies joined again. His belt buckle rubbed her, and Audrey wrapped her legs around his waist.

 

Everything had become automatic, give and take, push and pull. She didn't think about it, because to think would be to realize this was insane.

 

He murmured her name against her mouth and dipped his tongue inside again. He tasted liked mint, which was often the way he smelled, too, and the familiarity of it sent a shiver through her.

 

Joel broke the kiss to pull away and look into her eyes. His mouth glistened and his cheeks had flushed. Somehow his hair had rumpled, and she wanted to smooth it off his forehead.

 

"Bedroom?" His voice, hoarse with desire, fanned the flames already kindled from his kiss.

 

"Upstairs," she breathed.

 

He nodded and lifted her off the breakfast bar without hesitating. Audrey yelped and clung to his broad shoulders, her heart thudding as Joel scooped an arm under her legs and headed through the kitchen toward the stairs.

 

"Joel, put me down. You'll drop me--"

 

"I won't drop you."

 

All at once she believed him, had no doubts he could carry her up the stairs as Rhett had done to Scarlett, kissing her all the while. Fortunately, the staircase in her house was far less grand than the one from Gone With The Wind because, by the time he got to the top, Joel had begun panting with something other than passion. He made it the half dozen steps to her bedroom, kicked open the door and took her to the bed, where he managed to lay her down without dropping her. His body followed hers, and the bed dipped and creaked.

 

"You didn't drop me."

 

Joel buried his face in her shoulder. "I didn't."

 

He nuzzled her skin, and she shivered again. His hand slid up her side to cup her breast, then his mouth found hers again. He kissed like a dream come true, the right amount of nibbling pecks and soft, slow strokes of his tongue in the perfect combination to make her respond.

 

"May I?" His fingers skated along the row of buttons on the front of her blouse, then tracked the line of her hem and the bare patch of belly.

 

Audrey nodded. He moved without fumbling, slowly, easing each button from its slot with as much care and concentration as a burglar cracking a safe. He parted the material of her blouse as he worked, and kissed the line of her throat to the swell of her breasts as he finished opening her shirt. He put a palm flat on her belly, while his lips traced the curve of her breasts above the lacy edges of her bra.

 

Audrey held her breath, back arching slightly as his mouth teased her skin. Joel slid both hands up to cup her breasts, bringing them together so he could kiss the mounded flesh before he found the front hook of her bra and released it. He smoothed the lace over her skin, his breath hitching when her breasts, the nipples taut, were revealed.

 

The sound he made sent a spear of desire straight between her legs. Her clit pulsed in response, and slick arousal made her shift beneath him. Her breath lodged in her throat until she made the conscious effort to let it out.

 

When he closed his lips over one tight nipple, Audrey cried out and lifted her hips. Joel's hand cupped between her legs, the heel of his hand pressing her sweetly throbbing clit. As she moved, he moved, easing his fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans and then the lace edge of her panties. Joel suckled her nipple gently while his finger dipped between her folds. Audrey knew she was already wet for him, and when he brought some of her slickness up to coat her clit as he circled it, she let out low, shuddering breath.

 

"You're so hot," Joel murmured against her skin. Still suckling one nipple and the next, back and forth, he withdrew his hand from her panties and worked open the button and zipper of her jeans.

 

This was no time for slow and easy seduction, Audrey decided. This was a time for urgency. She pushed off her jeans as Joel sat up to pull his t-shirt over his head, and she reached for his belt. It was fast and insistent, but easy too. When at last he lay down naked on top of her, she didn't want to have time to worry about stretch marks or dimpled thighs.

 

His skin was warm on hers as he kissed her, belly to belly, their legs tangled. His cock rose between them, as hot and throbbing as her own center, and Audrey reached a hand between them to touch him. Joel moaned and gave a little shudder, his teeth closing on the base of her throat, nipping.

 

She gasped, and he soothed the sting with a kiss the way he'd done downstairs to her scalded hand. They moved together like they'd been choreographed, no awkward shifting or inadvertent tangling of hair, no accidental pinching. He kissed her mouth again, rolling her a bit so they lay on their sides, facing each other.

 

Again, something unreadable flashed in his eyes, something almost vulnerable, but it disappeared before she could be sure of it. He grinned and bent to kiss her again. He put his hand between her legs once more, one finger parting her curls and finding, without effort, the spot she most wanted him to touch.

 

He had a gentle, sure touch, a steady pace that didn't stutter. In moments she was shifting her hips in time to his motions. Her body strained, her sense of time shifted. The world centered on the places his body touched hers, and she could think of nothing else.

 

"Like this?" Joel asked, his hand moving against her.

 

"Yes..."

 

He sucked on her throat, just over her pulse. His tongue stroked her skin while his lips tugged in time to the smooth circles of his fingertip. His mouth slid lower, over her nipple to suckle briefly before moving lower still, over her belly.

 

Then his mouth had replaced his hand and she bit down on her hand to stifle the cry of pure pleasure that welled up in her throat. Joel settled between her thighs. His breath caressed her as his tongue flicked against her swollen flesh. The pressure and pace were different than they'd been seconds before, but her body embraced the change.

 

She'd never had trouble reaching climax and considered herself blessed because of it, but it had been two years since she'd last slept with a man. She wasn't just going to come. She was going to explode.

 

His tongue fluttered against her. She drew in a breath, held it, closed her eyes. Every muscle tensed and tightened. She stood knee-deep in the ocean as the waves got higher and higher, each covering more of her until at last, it happened, that glorious release, and the final wave of pleasure broke over her and tumbled her head over heels and tossed her up on the sand, panting and breathless, feeling slightly bruised and shaking, but utterly sated.

 

She blinked, coming back to reality. Joel pressed his lips to the twitch and throb of her clit, then cupped his hand there instead and moved up her body to settle next to her, his face in the curve of her shoulder.

 

Silence hung between them, but it wasn't awkward this time. Audrey sighed and turned her face to his. He was smiling. So was she.

 

"Mmm," she told him. "Wow."

 

He kissed her, and she put her hand to his face again. When he pulled back a little, she rolled onto her side and put her hand on his rear to tug him against her.

 

"I have condoms in the nightstand," she murmured, and he nodded.

 

"In a minute."

 

His answer surprised her, a little, and she reached out to stroke his cheek again. "Joel? You all right?"

 

He nodded. The look was there again, a flash in his eyes that passed so fast she'd have been able to convince herself she'd imagined it, if it hadn't been the third time. She studied him, her heartbeat slowing. His cheek was bristly beneath her fingers. He turned his head to kiss her palm.

 

Audrey leaned to kiss his mouth, taking her time. Tasting him. Urging his lips to part and accept her tongue. She explored him, and his cock lengthened between them as she did. She ran her hand down the line of his spine to caress the firm mounds of his buttocks, then a bit further down to feel the backs of his strong thighs. He shifted and laughed when her fingertips traced his skin.

 

"Ticklish?" she asked.

 

Joel nodded. He pulled her closer, his eyes searching hers, but for what, she wasn't sure. She kissed him again and then pushed him to roll onto his back.

 

It'd been long enough since she'd gone to bed with anyone, but longer still since she'd gone down on a man. Even so, Audrey didn't hesitate. She wanted to see him, all of him. He groaned when she licked the base of his throat and moved her mouth to cover his nipple, then down lower over the perfectly sculpted abs. She traced the muscled ridges with her tongue, the salty, musky taste of him sending new threads of pleasure weaving through her body. She nipped the jut of his hipbone, earning another groan.

 

She let her breath ghost along his erection, but didn't touch him. His hips lifted and she put a hand on each thigh to keep him steady as she studied his cock.

 

It was perfect, too.

 

"Audrey?"

 

She looked up, having no trouble understanding his expression this time. That he was as worried about his length and width and girth as she had been about her thighs and stretch marks touched her once more, and she reminded herself he was a flirt, but naked and therefore vulnerable, nonetheless.

 

She kissed the head of his penis, and smiled when he shivered. He lay back on the pillows. She took him into her mouth with slow precision, wanting to give him the same pleasure he'd given her. Joel moaned when she did, then again when she took him deeper. He pushed upward and she opened for him.

 

There'd been many times when she'd performed this act while thinking of a grocery list, or with one ear cocked for the sound of a baby's cry. This time, she had no such distractions. Nothing to do but make love to him with her mouth, nothing to think of but how good she could make him feel.

 

It was power, and she reveled in it, the ability to urge sighs and moans from him. To make his body react to her touch. She slid a hand down to cup his balls, her thumb finding the sweet spot just below them. His heartbeat rose as she sucked and stroked him.

 

Her hair came free from its loose bun and fell over her shoulders, covering them both, and Joel reached a hand to pull it away from her face and hold it back. The simple act of consideration stopped her only briefly before she bent back to using her tongue and lips.

 

He said her name again, his voice low and husky, and she paused. She gave his cock a last, gentle suckle and replaced her mouth with her hand. She stroked him slowly as she moved up his body to find his mouth and kiss him there.

 

"Now?" she whispered, and he nodded.

 

She reached for the nightstand and tugged open the drawer to find the box, praying the condoms hadn't expired. It had been a long time since she'd thought about needing them, after all. The date on the package was for next year and she gave a prayer of thanks to the gods who watched out for single, sex-craved women everywhere. She tore open the foil and moved back to Joel. She sheathed him, admiring his erection as she did, but her courage failed her at the last moment and she looked at his face.

 

"Yes?" Joel whispered, and she nodded.

 

"Yes."

 

He reached for her and pulled her close. Slow, sweet kisses joined them as he rolled her under him and guided himself inside her. Joel paused when he'd filled her, his weight resting on his arms.

 

Joel shifted upward. The tiny change of position brought his pelvis in direct contact with hers with every thrust, and though she hadn't expected it to, Audrey's body responded again. When he moved, she sighed and arched, moving with him. There was no resistance. Her body accepted and welcomed him, embraced him, a perfect fit.

 

Joel slid a hand under the back of her neck, supporting her as they kissed. She held him, hooking her legs over the back of his thighs. In and out, slow and smooth, their bodies coming together and drawing apart, but always remaining joined.

 

They kissed. Pleasure filled her, the ripples of a pond rather than the crash of ocean waves, but somehow even better. She was looking into his eyes when she came the second time, and he followed her a bare half-minute later. His body tensed and he pushed inside her, shuddering.

 

After a moment he rolled off her, onto his side, a hand still splayed protectively on her waist. She sighed, sated and content, and waited for him to say something flirty that would allow her to dismiss what had just happened as a fluke.

 

"You are beautiful, Audrey," was what he told her instead, and kissed her again. "I mean it."

 

She wished she could believe him.

 

* * * *

 

Joel had been a guest for dinner enough times to know the layout of Audrey's kitchen, so finding the pan and the spatula had been easy enough. Eggs and cheese from her fridge, onions and potatoes from the pantry, some olive oil and butter, and he'd made omelets and hash browns. He'd come up empty-handed when it came to the toast, though. A noise from the doorway behind him made him turn, and he smiled.

 

"'Morning. Do you have any bread?"

 

Audrey padded into the kitchen on bare feet, her over-sized t-shirt hanging to her thighs. She tied up her hair as she looked around, expression surprised.

 

"You made breakfast?"

 

"We sort of forgot about dinner." Joel turned off the burner. "But I couldn't find bread to make toast."

 

She still looked a little taken aback.

 

"I'm sorry," he said. "Was this all right?"

 

Maybe she had an issue about a man in her kitchen?

 

Audrey nodded. "Of course it's all right. Oh, you made coffee, too? Joel, you didn't need to do all this."

 

He grinned at her. "Sure I did. Told you I wasn't just a pretty face."

 

He watched her pour a mug of coffee, sweeten it, and take a long drink before she looked up at him again. She looked gorgeous in the morning. Hell, she looked fantastic any time. But especially gorgeous in the morning, after spending the night in his arms.

 

"I slept so late," she said. "Lauren's going to be home in just a few hours. And I didn't get any studying done!"

 

He slid the eggs and hash browns onto plates and carried them to the breakfast bar. She stepped aside to let him, and he guided her to a stool. "Sit."

 

She did, taking the fork he handed her as he sat next to her. Joel dug in, his stomach refusing to be ignored any longer, not even in favor of satisfying his body's other urges. Audrey cut into her omelet, but didn't eat right away.

 

"Is it all right?" he asked. He washed down a mouthful with a swig of orange juice.

 

She nodded and took the bite. "It's great."

 

He speared a potato and chewed it, his growling stomach subsiding its complaints. "What time's Lauren due home?"

 

She looked up. "Ted's bringing her back at two."

 

"Great." He'd had time to flip through the Sunday paper while the coffee brewed. "There's a matinee showing of The Wizard of Oz today at the Allen Theater. I thought maybe we could take her to see it."

 

Audrey laughed. "You like The Wizard of Oz?"

 

Joel grinned and winked. "Sure. Who doesn't?"

 

She didn't say anything to that. Her smile faded and she looked at her plate. She toyed with the food on it, the set down her fork. When she looked up again, Joel put down his own fork. Her eyes told him there was bad news.

 

"What is it?" he asked.

 

"I'm not so sure that would be the best idea," Audrey said slowly.

 

He said nothing. His gaze traced the shape of her brows, the line of her nose and the curve of lip and jaw. He could have drawn them all, he'd so well memorized her face. He didn't want to look away, but he did, not wanting to see her tell him this wasn't going to work.

 

"Joel..."

 

"She doesn't like The Wizard of Oz?"

 

"She does."

 

He looked up then, hoping she'd meet his gaze and disappointed when she couldn't. "You don't?"

 

"I do, too. I just think it would be a bad idea for us to go to a movie together today."

 

"We've gone to the movies lots of times," he told her. "Lauren knows me."

 

"That was before," Audrey replied.

 

"Before we slept together." His voice came out flat and devoid of emotion, though Joel felt anything but. He took his plate and scraped the rest of it into the trash, then put it in the dishwasher.

 

"Yes."

 

He turned to face her again. "I thought you wanted this, too."

 

She looked up at him. "It was wonderful, Joel, it was really great. But..."

 

"But what?" He wanted to understand.

 

"Joel," she cried, "we're friends! Study buddies! Right? This was a one-time thing. It has to be."

 

Coldness filled him. "Why does it have to be?"

 

She sighed, running a hand over her hair. "Because I'm not ready for it to be anything else."

 

He nodded, reaching for her. She let him take her hand, which was something, at least. "We'll go slow. I promise."

 

She laughed and squeezed his hand. "Too late, Joel."

 

He pulled his hand back, frustrated. "I don't understand."

 

"Joel..." She sighed again, this time the one to reach for him. "You're a great guy, and I know you're not used to being turned down..."

 

He gaped at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

 

Audrey looked uncomfortable. "You know what it means. You're a flirt. You go out with lots of girls--"

 

"Only because I've been too much of a chicken to ask you out," he retorted. "Which I've been wanting to do since we met."

 

She laughed, scoffing. "You're a charmer, Joel. I've always known it. A flirt. You flirt with me, you flirt with the other girls in our class...you flirt with the professor, for God's sake! Friday night you were taking off your clothes in front of a room full of women waiting to shove dollar bills down your crotch! How am I supposed to believe I'm different? I can't risk it, Joel. Not for me and not for Lauren."

 

"You seem to have it figured out why I slept with you," Joel said through gritted teeth. "But why did you go to bed with me?"

 

Her apologetic answer didn't make him feel any better. "Joel, I made a mistake. I'm sorry. I should've been smarter about this. I should've been more responsible--"

 

"Why?" he interrupted. "Because I'm not?"

 

She didn't say anything, which was answer enough, and Joel tossed up his hands in frustration and anger, and headed for the living room to grab his things. She followed, her tone pleading as she said his name. He ignored her.

 

"Don't go like this," Audrey said. "Please."

 

He grabbed up his jacket and stuffed his books into his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Audrey. Forget it."

 

"Joel, don't be like that."

 

He faced her, hating himself for still noticing how lovely her hair looked curling around her face, and how the light from behind silhouetted her body. She looked as though she meant to reach for him, but then clutched her hands together.

 

"I can't believe that's what you think of me," he said, sounding helpless and despairing, and hating himself for that, too. "That I'm just some playboy who goes around telling women what they want to hear so I can get them into bed."

 

"I don't think that."

 

"But you think I'm a flirt."

 

"You are a flirt!" She laughed, but stopped when she saw he wasn't joining her. "Joel...you are."

 

"So, does that mean I'm insincere, too? That I can't possibly mean what I say to you when I tell you you're beautiful and smart and special, and I want to spend all my time with you?"

 

For once he didn't seem to be hitting on the right words to say. Audrey looked puzzled, and a little embarrassed, and Joel scowled.

 

"Joel..." She sighed. "I just don't want to take the chance of ruining what we have. A great friendship."

 

"Oh, you're not giving me the 'I like you as a friend' speech, are you?" He put his hands on his hips. "Not after last night."

 

"But I do like you as a friend!" she cried. "I like you a lot, and I don't want to lose that! I don't want to end up just another--"

 

"What? Notch on my bedpost?"

 

She didn't say anything for a moment, then nodded.

 

"I thought we were friends," he told her, and took some small pleasure in the way his words made her flinch.

 

"We are." Her voice was small and sad.

 

"But that's it?" He watched her, hoping to the end she'd change her mind. Give them a chance. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "You think I'm just some kid with ants in his pants, don't you?"

 

"Oh, Joel."

 

He turned to look at her. "Before last night, I hadn't been to bed with anyone in over a year. Since meeting you."

 

"But...you're always talking about going on dates..."

 

"I went on dates. But I haven't had a girlfriend, a real girlfriend, since you sat down next to me in Intro To Psych and lent me your pen."

 

Audrey seemed stunned. "I didn't know. You've always been--"

 

"The guy with the golden grin." He nodded grimly. "I know. But it doesn't ever mean anything, Audrey."

 

He wasn't helping his case, he could tell by the way her mouth turned down.

 

"Then how am I supposed to believe you when you say it to me?" she asked, and he was mortified to see tears glimmering. He hadn't meant to make her cry. "You say all you've thought about is me since we met, but all I've ever seen you do is move from one woman to another."

 

"Why did you let me make love to you?" He asked the same question she hadn't answered earlier.

 

"I shouldn't have," she said quietly. "I knew it would be a mistake."

 

"Why, Audrey?"

 

She shook her head a little, which was no answer at all.

 

"You wanted to find out for yourself if I was as good as my reputation?" The words stuck in his throat, but he forced them out. "Figured you might as well get a piece, too?"

 

Something that looked suspiciously like guilt flashed across her face, and her protest sounded false. "Of course not."

 

"I'm not a secret agent."

 

"I know that, Joel."

 

"Well, if you can believe I'm not a secret agent, can't you believe I'm not a gigolo either?" he asked, voice more defiant than he'd meant it to sound. "Audrey, sometimes I dance for Muy Caliente because the money's good and I need it. And, yeah, I'm a flirt, I admit it, but that's it. I don't make love to women for money."

 

She blinked. "I didn't know, Joel. You never said anything."

 

"I guess I never thought I needed to. I guess I never thought I had to explain myself to you. I thought we were friends." He slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I'm outta here."

 

"Joel, please--"

 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out two quarters, which he tossed at her feet.. "Here's your change," he said. "I give my 'friends' a discounted rate."

 

Then, before he could say anything else or listen to her say anything, he was out the door and gone.

 

* * * *

 

The quarters were warm from being in her hand for so many hours. Audrey hadn't let go of them since picking them up from the floor. She'd probably memorized every whorl on Washington's face with her fingertips.

 

"Mommy, can we have pizza for dinner?" Lauren plopped into the chair next to Audrey's and rested her elbows on the table. "Watcha studying?"

 

"Same old stuff, honey." The truth was, Audrey had been staring at the same page for the past twenty minutes without seeing a word.

 

"Oh." Lauren swung her feet. "Pizza?"

 

Audrey smiled. "Did you have pizza at Daddy's?"

 

"Yes," Lauren admitted, "but it was the frozen kind. Can't we order some?"

 

Audrey looked at her daughter's sweet face and couldn't resist. "Sure. Pizza it is."

 

"Yay! You're the best mom ever!" Lauren hopped up and gave her mom a squeeze and a kiss. "Hey, Mom, how come Joel's not helping you study?"

 

"I guess he's busy, honey." Audrey sighed and closed her book, knowing it would be useless to bother with any more work today.

 

"Aw, too bad." Lauren shrugged. "He told me we could go see The Wizard of Oz."

 

"Did he? When?"

 

"Last time he came over." Lauren grabbed Audrey's pen and started doodling on a piece of paper.

 

"Maybe another time, honey."

 

"Mommy?" Lauren drew curly hair on her stick figure. "Is Joel your boyfriend like Tammy's Daddy's girlfriend?"

 

Audrey shook her head. "No, honey."

 

"How come? I like Joel a lot. He's nice." Lauren held up her masterpiece for Audrey to admire. "And he really likes you."

 

"Does he?" Audrey studied her daughter. "How do you know?"

 

Lauren rolled her eyes. "He doesn't need to come over here all the time just to study, does he? He's smart enough to study at home, right?"

 

"Yes, well, Mommy's smart enough to study alone, too, but it makes it better sometimes to have someone to do it with."

 

"Like eating ice cream." The leap of eight-year-old logic made a twisted sort of sense. "It always tastes better when you're eating it with a friend."

 

"Right. And Joel's my friend."

 

"Well," said Lauren, "I don't see what the big deal is then. If he's your friend and you like him, why you guys can't just kiss and stuff."

 

"Lauren," said Audrey, "that's not any of your business."

 

Lauren giggled. "Okay. Can I go watch cartoons?"

 

"Yes. I'll order the pizza."

 

"Yay!" Another squeeze and kiss, and Lauren ran off to the living room to turn on the television.

 

She stared at the text, thinking of Joel. Lauren had made it all sound so simple.

 

So...why couldn't it be?

 

* * * *

 

"Hi ya, Morty." Joel pushed the window in the conservatory wider to let in the warm spring breeze. "How're you doing today?"

 

Morty grunted from his spot by the bougainvillea. "Doing, doing. How's you, kid? You look low."

 

Joel shrugged. "Nah."

 

Morty raised both straggly brows. "What? You're gonna lie to an old man like that? For shame!"

 

Joel laughed. "Girl troubles."

 

"Still? I thought you was gonna tell her how you felt!" Morty shook a gnarled finger at him. "What are ya waiting for?"

 

"I told her," Joel said. "She didn't believe me."

 

"How'd ya do it, kiddo? You come right out and tell her ya love her, ya buy her flowers, what?"

 

"I told her I thought she was beautiful," Joel admitted. "And I kissed her."

 

He wasn't going to admit to Morty he'd done it at the club, or that he'd gone to her house and made love to her the next day.

 

Morty sighed. "Oy, you just kissed her? That's it? You didn't make the sweet love to her?"

 

Joel rubbed his eyes. He should have known better than to keep anything from Morty. "You've got a dirty mind, old man."

 

Morty blew a raspberry. "Listen, kid, I'm old, not dead. So, you told her she was beautiful, and you kissed her. And she did what? Laughed? Nothing? Kissed you back? Slapped your face?"

 

"She kissed me back, but the next day..." He scowled.

 

"The next day she gave you the 'we're good friends' speech?"

 

The old man really was amazing. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

 

"Women," Morty said. "Most confusing and ornery creatures on this planet. Lemme ask you something, sonny. How long you known this girl?"

 

"A year. We met at the end of last spring semester, and this year we had two classes together."

 

"She got another fella?"

 

Morty looked expectant.

 

Joel sighed. "Yesterday, after we'd...kissed...all of sudden she didn't want anything to do with me. Said it would be a bad idea for me to be around her daughter since we'd...kissed."

 

Morty laughed his raspy chuckle. "Sounds to me like she's got it as bad for you as you got it for her, sonny."

 

Joel frowned. "Yeah, right. Turns out she thinks I'm some sort of charming flirt who was safe to...kiss...because I go through women like...like..."

 

"Like shit through a goose?" Morty guffawed. "Reputation bit you on your ass, did it?"

 

It sure had. Joel shrugged, still stung. "Let's just forget it, Morty, okay? I thought she felt the same way about me, but she doesn't. I just made an idiot of myself, that's all."

 

"Well, sonny, I'm sure it wasn't the first time, and it won't be the last."

 

Joel had to laugh at that. "Yeah, man, you're probably right on that one."

 

"Listen, sonny, if you really like that girl, if you really got your heart set on her, then you got to go after her. Don't take no for an answer."

 

"And if she really doesn't want a relationship with me? If she really did only want it to be once? What then?"

 

"You don't have a very high opinion of yourself, if you think she could settle for only once," said Morty with a wink and a grin, and wheeled himself out of the conservatory, leaving Joel alone among the Boston ferns.

 

* * * *

 

"All right, class. Time's up." Professor Beadle got up from her desk in front of the auditorium. "Pass your test booklets to the front, please."

 

Audrey closed her booklet with a sigh and passed it down the row. Her last final, and an entire summer off to look forward to. Days by the pool with Lauren, sleeping in late, catching fireflies.

 

And no Joel.

 

Her eyes searched the class for him, but no familiar grin, no flashing dark eyes leaped into her gaze. Had he skipped it? Missed the final? Was he sick?

 

"Ms. Winsom? Everything all right?" The professor had paused at the end of her row, and Audrey looked up, startled.

 

"Oh, yes, professor, fine. Sorry."

 

"Relieved to be finished?" The older woman smiled. "I'm sure you did very well. You're one of the best students in the class, Ms. Windom. You and Mr. Goldman."

 

Audrey nodded at Joel's name. "Thanks, professor. I enjoyed the class very much."

 

"See you in September," said Professor Beadle and kept moving up the stairs toward the doors at the back of the auditorium.

 

Outside in the bright May sunshine, Audrey took the time to stop next to one of the large metal trashcans to clean out her backpack of the months' worth of scraps, chewed pencils and other garbage.

 

She saw him in the distance, recognizing him even from the back. He'd stopped to read one of the message boards. The breeze lifted his hair, and she all too clearly remembered how it felt against her fingers and against her face. Her feet were moving before she knew it.

 

"Joel!"

 

He turned, his easy expression going tight when he saw her, and that nearly broke her heart. "Hi."

 

"That was some final, huh? I didn't see you inside." She smiled at him, but he didn't return it.

 

"I was in the back."

 

He met her eyes for a moment, then looked away, and fresh shame filled her at how callously she'd treated his feelings. The feelings she'd been too afraid to believe were real.

 

"Any big plans for the summer?"

 

"Working full time at Country Breezes. They've guaranteed me extra hours. I'll be able to afford school again in the fall anyway."

 

"Good." She nodded. Awkward silence fell between them. "What about...the other?"

 

"The other job?" He looked up. "Quit."

 

"You did? Why?" She took a step toward him.

 

Joel looked at her. "Because the money was good, but it wasn't the right job for me. Gives people the wrong impression."

 

"Joel, I'm sorry." She was too. "The past couple weeks...have been..."

 

"What?" he asked her.

 

"Lauren's been asking about you."

 

"Has she?" A smile hinted at brightening his face before fading. "Tell her I said hi."

 

"You could tell her, if you wanted."

 

He said nothing at first. "I thought you said that wouldn't be a good idea."

 

Audrey reached for his hand, certain he'd pull away and relieved when he didn't. "Joel, I was wrong to judge you."

 

He looked down at their hands. His fingers tightened on hers. He met her gaze.

 

"I don't blame you. It's my own fault for not discouraging the rumors. But, hey, what guy can resist being thought of as a secret agent, right?"

 

She squeezed his hand in return. "I just didn't want to risk our friendship, and what happened? I ruined it anyway. I'm sorry."

 

Joel tugged her hand a little bit and she moved toward him. "Audrey, I would never lie to you. Do you believe that?"

 

She did. Completely. "Yes, I do."

 

He smiled, finally, like the sun returning from behind the clouds. He slung his arm around her shoulder pulling her close. "So I heard a rumor you were going to make me dinner."

 

"Oh? Funny, because I thought I heard it was you who was going to make me some dinner." She looked up at him.

 

He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Then he kissed her, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him back. It was a sweet kiss, full of promise and anticipation. When Joel pulled away, Audrey's heart had started thump-thumping.

 

"Audrey," he said, "I want to do this right this time. I want to take you out. On real dates. And spend time with you, and Lauren...but if you'd rather not have me around Lauren, that's cool too. I understand. I just don't want to let this ruin our friendship, but I also don't want our friendship to ruin...this. I just need to know if you trust me."

 

He kissed her again, a little harder this time, and she slid her arms up around his neck to hold his mouth to hers.

 

"I do," she told him.

 

"Can I take you home?" he asked her when he stopped kissing her.

 

"Yeah," Audrey said. "I'd like that."

 

This time he lifted her as he kissed her, and they laughed together in the bright May sunshine, two good friends who'd finally decided to take the chance at something more. Joel had his arms around her and hers were around him as he twirled her on the sidewalk, but Audrey had no fear he'd drop her. After all, in his arms she had found a perfect fit.

 

 

RIGHT TO REMAIN

 

 

 

The radio was loud, and the car fast. The night wind rushing in the open window tangled her long hair, but Lina didn't care. She was thinking about Gavin.

 

It seemed like she was always thinking about him; that every song on the radio this summer had words which made her remember his smile; that every day had her burning inside with a heat which had nothing to do with the fierceness of the summer sun. She hadn't seen him in an entire year.

 

Their affair had ended badly. She'd walked out on him after he'd refused to kiss her in front of his friends at a party. It had been summer then, too, with hot days and cool nights, and she'd shivered so hard the keys had chattered in the lock when she'd tried to open her car door.

 

He'd followed her. She could give him credit for that, at least. The sounds of the party had spilled out the open door along with a golden rectangle of light. He'd jumped down the porch steps, taken the keys from her hand and slipped them into the lock for her, but when she'd tried to open the car door his hand had pushed it closed.

 

"What's up?" The scent of beer and cigarettes surrounded him, along with the faint undertone of spicy cologne.

 

Lina's voice had been cold. "I'm done."

 

"With what?"

 

She gave a glare as fierce as she could manage with tears burning in her eyes. "With us. With this. With all of it."

 

He'd had the gall to chuckle at her and try to brush her hair from her face. She'd knocked his hand away. He took a step back, his own eyes narrowed. "You're serious."

 

"Let me ask you something," Lina had said in a low, dangerous voice she barely recognized as her own. "Are you ever going to kiss me when you're not fucking me?"

 

His breath had hissed from between his lips. "Sure. On Christmas and your birthday."

 

She shook her head, but wasn't surprised by his answer. "Goodbye, Gavin."

 

She'd made it into her seat, belted in and put the keys in the ignition before he'd reopened the car door. "What do you mean, goodbye? Why?"

 

"It's pretty simple," she'd said. "What have you always told me? 'I will never hold your hand. I will never bring you flowers.' And, apparently, never kiss me."

 

"I didn't say never."

 

"It's not enough." She'd fixed him with a solid look that denied the maelstrom of her emotions.

 

"Lina..."

 

She'd given him no chance to reply. "Goodbye."

 

She'd driven away and never seen him again, but she'd never stopped thinking about him.

 

Now the red/blue, red/blue of lights came on behind her, and she pulled over to the side of the road. Her heart thumped as she brushed the tangled strands of hair away from her face. The spot between her thighs pulsed briefly as she shifted under her seatbelt. She turned off the radio.

 

What would fate bring her tonight? Had she tempted destiny enough? Everything felt as though it were coming together...her desire and her thoughts bringing her to this point of no return.

 

The tall, dark form tapped on her window, and she obliged by rolling it down a crack. She wasn't stupid, and was reckless in only this one thing. "Can I see some identification, please, officer?"

 

He showed it to her without comment, and the ID card with his name on it was like a bolt of lightning to her heart.

 

"License and registration," he demanded with nothing like politeness in his tone.

 

If he knew who she was before she showed him the documents, he showed no sign. She passed him the papers, knowing as she shifted in her seat to pull them from the glove box that her skirt was shifting also. It rode high on her thighs, perhaps even exposed a quick flash of underwear. He didn't react.

 

"Step out of the car."

 

She wouldn't have for someone else. She would have insisted he radio ahead and take her someplace safer, not along a dark, deserted, country road. The Internet had taught her something about personal safety, at least. But for him, she opened her door, conscious of the light spilling out and painting a square of brightness on the night-soaked ground.

 

She stood a little unsteadily on unfamiliar high heels, and became aware of how much taller she was when she wore them. Her chin reached the curve of his shoulder. She wobbled and reached out a hand to steady herself against the car door. It shut with a click, and gave her back into the red/blue shadowed darkness.

 

"How much have you had to drink tonight?"

 

He knew she didn't drink. Or he had known a year ago. He knew nothing about her now. Still, the question stung.

 

"Nothing."

 

He made a noise low in his throat. Like he didn't believe her. And that made her angry, just a little.

 

"I haven't turned to drink," she said with an edge in her voice. "If that's what you were hoping."

 

"I'm going to administer a field sobriety test to you anyway," her former lover told her, without an inkling of humor in his voice. All business.

 

Despite her anger at the insult, her clit throbbed and her nipples peaked against her thin shirt. All business. What other business could she persuade him to put his attentions to?

 

He led her through the short series of exercises, and she passed them all. The gravel on the side of the road was slippery and uneven, though, and her heels an inch higher than she was used to. She stumbled again and fell into his arms. He caught her easily, a man used to protecting unsteady women from hurting themselves. Suddenly, she hated him for that ease, that grace, that steadiness, which used to be for her alone and now was for any woman who needed it.

 

She cursed and pushed away from him. "Give me the damn ticket and let me go, all right?"

 

"Can I take a look in your trunk?"

 

"What?" Her outrage, for a moment, covered her desire. Rage made her shake, and she made fists of her hands. "Why?"

 

"Are you denying me access to your trunk?"

 

"Fuck you." She'd never denied him access to anything he'd ever wanted from her.

 

His eyes went hard, his expression fierce. She could see that even in the dim light, though she could've imagined the look just as easily. She'd seen it often enough.

 

"Turn around. Put your hands on the hood of the car. Spread your legs."

 

Her heart pounded so hard that, for a moment, she saw stars. Even as she obeyed, she felt her breath catch in her chest. Her thighs rubbed together as she turned, and she felt the slickness like oil between her legs.

 

Apparently, she didn't move fast enough for him. She felt his hand on her shoulder, pushing her toward the car. Her feet tangled, she stumbled once more, and her hands slapped the hood of the car hard enough to sting. He put his hands between her legs, beneath her skirt, and pushed her legs apart.

 

She couldn't breathe. She bent, her fingers splayed on the car's warm metal. She was open to him. The heat of his palm caressed her inner thigh. It burned, and she sighed from the pleasure of it.

 

His hand left her thigh and both hands patted her sides, the curve of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach, the roundness of her ass. She shuddered. Her head hung down, long hair obscuring her face, and covering her view. All she felt was his hands on her--brusque, impersonal, harsh, and without the tenderness she'd remembered him capable of having.

 

Her body betrayed her. She was angry with him for this treatment, for a year of silence, for allowing her to close the door on him and refusing to ask her to open it. She was furious, and yet his touch had her breath coming close and sharp, her clit pulsing. She could come from a touch, a kiss, a caress, and she hated herself for letting him affect her so violently.

 

His hands went beneath her skirt again to cup her ass. His fingers curved along the back of her thighs to the soft inner skin. She felt him brush the elastic edge of her panties, and her knees buckled. She pushed back against him with a moan she tried unsuccessfully to stifle.

 

At the sound, he withdrew. "You can go now."

 

What? She couldn't speak. Humiliation flooded her, turned her stomach, and made her faint with shame. She'd reacted to him like a bitch in heat, and he'd rejected her.

 

She turned and tried to see something of what he felt in his expression, but it was too dark. He was closed to her. Like he'd always been.

 

"You bastard," she breathed when she caught her breath. "You...you..."

 

But she had no more words. Nothing else to say. Tears stung her eyes and clogged in her throat, but she refused to let him see her cry.

 

She got in her car, took back her license and registration, and stuffed them without thought into the glove box. Her keys jangled in the ignition when her fingers touched them, but the roar of the engine drowned out the sound.

 

"Don't drive so fast," he told her through the open window, and then he was gone.

 

* * * *

 

It wasn't until Lina got home that she realized he hadn't given her a ticket.

 

She'd tried to play a game, and she had failed. Now she felt the worst sort of fool, but at least she didn't have to pay for her mistake. Not with money anyway. Only her sense of pride.

 

As the minutes passed, her anger faded, replaced by a sense of quiet loss. She couldn't blame him. She'd been the one to end the relationship a year ago. The one who'd left. She'd wanted more and been too afraid to demand it.

 

Her body had not recovered from the fierce jolt of arousal that had broken through her at his touch. Even now, the memory of his fingers brushing the elastic of her panties made her shiver, and her nipples harden. A memory hit her suddenly like the crash of thunder, and she had to sit down lest she fall from weakened knees.

 

The chair was soft beneath her and she gripped the padded arms. Her eyes blinked, not seeing the freshly painted and carefully decorated walls of her apartment, but instead Gavin's face. Lina's head fell back against the chair. Her legs parted unconsciously, her body reacting to the memory as though it were an event happening to her now.

 

She thought of Gavin touching her, his fingers slipping inside her while his mouth teased her nipples. She touched herself, remembering how once his mouth had closed on the hard beads of flesh and suckled while his hand stroked her. Her clit felt swollen and huge with arousal, begging for release.

 

Her hand strayed lower and pushed up the edge of her skirt. Her fingers brushed the soft cotton of her panties, over the bud of her clit, which pulsed beneath her fingers as a gasp burst from her parted lips. She arched upward, into her own touch, wishing for the thousandth time it was Gavin's hand on her, his mouth between her legs, his cock inside her.

 

It would take only a second to slip her finger beneath the elastic and get herself even more ready, and only another second more to slide her finger inside herself to make herself come. But it wasn't enough. Self-gratification wouldn't sate her need, not when tonight she'd finally had what she'd been dreaming of--Gavin's hands on her skin again. Any orgasm she achieved now would grant only a brief release.

 

The room swam back into focus as she blinked and withdrew her hands. Lina sat up, the tug of her panties as she moved a sweet torture. The urge for sexual completion pulled at her, but she tried to put it aside. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, and caught sight of her face in the mirror on the far wall.

 

She looked like a woman who'd set out to get fucked. Tousled hair, bright red lips, color high on her cheeks and sparkling eyes. Her sweater, tight on her breasts, showed the points of her nipples still erect, and her short skirt barely covered the curve of her ass. Bitterness and another wash of embarrassment stung her. She offered herself to him like a wanton whore, and been turned aside.

 

A shower would make her feel better; it always did. If she could have slept in a pattering rain of hot water, she would. Lina stripped off the clothes she'd chosen so carefully and left them in a pile on the floor. She wanted to throw them in the garbage.

 

Lina stepped into a shower so hot steam rapidly clouded the room. The water stung and she hissed, but then relaxed into the spray. The jets pounded her back and neck, her shoulders, the softness of her buttocks. She knelt on the floor of the shower, arms crossed in front of her beneath her face. The water cascaded over her back and soaked her hair. It sluiced away the tension in her shoulders, but emphasized the other tension still there, one she couldn't continue to ignore. Resting on her knees and forearms, Lina opened her legs. She tilted forward, lifted her ass in the air, let the water run down between her thighs to caress her openness like a lover's fingers.

 

She hadn't made love since she'd left him. She'd learned to turn her sexual tension into creativity, progress, hard work and success at her business. She'd learned to focus her energies on other things, other projects. But sometimes, like now, she couldn't deny her body's hunger any longer. She had to give in to it.

 

In the past year she'd ventured into places she'd never thought she'd go, all in the name of self-satisfaction. She'd tried a vibrator, but found the noise and intense sensation too harsh. Dildos were ridiculous, whether they looked liked real cocks or like something else. Her hands and perhaps a strategically placed pillow were poor substitutes for a man. The only thing she'd found that even came close to fulfilling her was water.

 

Lina arched her spine and lifted herself higher against the water's spray. She rested her face in her palms and closed out the sight of anything but the inside of her eyelids. Darkness and silence, but for the rushing noise of the shower, filled her. She gave herself up to it, to the fantasy. To the memories.

 

The water beat against her thighs, her cunt, the tender bud of her clit. It slapped her, caressed her, covered her with warmth and a steady pressure that brought her breath in short, sharp gasps.

 

Her blood pounded in her ears. The heat of the shower and her arousal made her feel dizzy, faint, floating on a haze of sensation she didn't want to leave. The water couldn't touch her hard enough to make her come. It teased her. Taunted. Made her roll her hips against the intermittent spray. And still, though she felt herself grow slick with desire, felt the ache inside her. She couldn't achieve orgasm.

 

She arched her back even more until a needle of spray pounded directly on her throbbing clitoris. She moved a little, back and forth, eager to feel the waves of orgasm fill her. The water flowed over her, but still brought her no release.

 

A frustrated sigh escaped her. Lina lifted her head out of the water, uncertain of exactly what she meant to do next...only sure she needed release badly enough to give it to herself.

 

No longer deafened by the sound of rushing water, Lina was startled to hear the boom, boom, boom of a phantom hand banging on her front door. She got to her feet, head spinning as she stood. Lina steadied herself against the tiled shower wall, wondering for a moment if she might faint.

 

Her vagina clenched and her clit pounded in time to the throbbing of her heart. She shook her head to clear it. Another series of knocks came from her front door. She opened the shower door, grabbed a towel, and stepped into the steam-clouded air, cooler than the shower.

 

It was the middle of the night. Who could be knocking on her door? Most likely it was her downstairs neighbor, the Goth-boy Edward, wanting to borrow some bread to make the toast he always craved when returning home from the clubs.

 

Lina tucked the towel beneath her arms, aware that the small piece of cloth barely brushed to top of her thighs. Eddie would get quite a show. The thought made her smile. She probably outweighed Eddie by a good fifteen pounds.

 

"I don't have any--" she began as she tugged the door open. The words died in her throat. She took a step back, then another, before thinking to slam the door. By then it was too late. He was inside, closing the door behind him with a kick that rocked the cheap wooden door on its hinges.

 

"What are you doing here?" she asked, stunned into asking stupid questions. "How did you know where I live?"

 

"Did you think I couldn't find you if I wanted to?" Gavin's familiar smile mocked her. Heat flared in his eyes as his gaze raked her from the top of her tangled, sopping head to the place where the towel ended and her flushed skin began.

 

"Get out." She pointed, then curved her fingers into her palm to hide the fact her hands were trembling.

 

"I don't think so."

 

"You...you..." She sputtered and stopped.

 

"What are you going to do? Call the police?"

 

The steady, matter-of-fact way he asked his question shot a bolt of true fear through her. Lina swallowed, but lifted her chin. "I don't want you here. Get the hell out of my apartment!"

 

He advanced a step. His height and size would have made him menacing, even if his attitude hadn't. "What kind of games are you playing, Lina?"

 

The sound of her name on his tongue after so long wiped the protests from her. She shivered, suddenly conscious of the way the cool air brushed her all over, and the way her nipples pushed at the front of the towel.

 

"I'm not playing any sort of games!"

 

She could tell he knew she was lying. "I was on duty before. What did you expect me to do? Pull down your panties and fuck you there on the side of the road against your car?"

 

At the harshness of his words, she shuddered again, but not from anger. The thought of him doing what he'd described sent a bolt of pure lust arcing through her, straight to her clit, which still beat in time to the pulsing of her heart. He'd described exactly what she wanted, but she'd be damned if she'd admit it to him.

 

"Fuck you," she whispered, unable to find the strength to say more.

 

Then he was next to her, his hand on the back of her neck. He pulled her close to him, her belly against his thighs, her breasts crushed to the strong, hard width of his chest. His fingers tangled in her hair and he pulled her head back until she gasped with desire.

 

"You have the right to remain silent," he told her with no irony at all in his voice. "I think you owe me an explanation, but not right now. Be quiet, or I will turn around and leave."

 

A flush of pure anger and desire burned her cheeks and the hollow of her throat. He was threatening her. "Let go of me."

 

"I don't think so."

 

She started to pull away, but his hands held her tight. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes at the sudden sharp sting in her skull where his fingers pulled her hair. She should have wanted to get away from him, but the pulse between her legs refused to be denied. Her knees were weak with wanting. Her cheeks flamed with arousal and shame that he could affect her this way.

 

Instead of pulling away, she allowed his hand to tug her head back, exposing her throat to him. The sting eased. His head angled toward hers and her lips parted. She waited.

 

Gavin brought his face so close to hers she felt the puff of his breath on her mouth. He paused just before his lips touched hers, then pulled back. "Did you think I was going to kiss you?"

 

The old fury flared in her. She realized her hands were free and she almost slapped his face before he caught her hand and held it. With a swift move that made her head spin, he used his strength to turn her around and tuck the offending hand around her body and under her arm. He didn't let go of her hand. She was trapped, her back against him, her arm tight against her chest.

 

His breath was hot on the back of her neck. He nuzzled her just under the ear. "You should know better than to try that with me."

 

More heat rose within her, mingled with fury and desire at the touch of his lips on the sensitive rim of her ear. He had the nerve to put his lips to her neck, but not her mouth! It was insufferable, and at the same time, unbearable, that the feeling of his mouth touching her flesh could make her clit swell and burn with desire.

 

He slid a hand down between her legs and cupped her beneath the towel. Lina gasped. She couldn't help it. His touch was like fire on her already burning skin. She had to close her eyes and take a deep breath to prevent herself from moaning.

 

"This is what you want, isn't it?" His voice had that old, taunting tone she hated. His hand curved to fit more closely against her.

 

Lina found the strength to shake her head, grateful he couldn't see her face. She arched her back to pull her body away from his as best she could. She didn't trust her voice.

 

"No?" Gavin's voice had gone deep and hoarse. One finger parted her curls and stroked her. Another slipped between her folds to tease her opening.

 

A red haze danced in front of her eyes. She was too close to coming. The sensations were too much. Lina struggled in Gavin's grasp, not wanting him to win. Not like this.

 

His other hand came around to cover her breast and her hands were free. The towel fell forgotten to the floor. Gavin thumbed her nipple, then took it between his fingers and squeezed gently. Lina bit her lip. His fingers moved in slow, excruciating circles on her clit. She could feel her own slickness coating her thighs.

 

"You wanted this tonight," Gavin said. "You wanted me to put you up against the car, like this--"

 

He took three quick steps forward, pushing her in front of him until her belly nudged the edge of the breakfast bar dividing the kitchen from the living room. Lina gripped the counter's slick surface.

 

"Didn't you?"

 

"No."

 

"You're lying, Lina."

 

The mocking laughter in his voice gave her the strength finally to push away from him. Shaking, she ducked beneath his arm and turned to face him. She felt vulnerable in her nakedness, but the way his eyes swept over her body gave her some small triumph.

 

She tossed her damp, tangled hair over her shoulders. She kept her gaze steady as she cupped her breasts as though she were offering them to him. She slid one hand down her belly to part her nest of curls and give him a glimpse of the treasure there. Her own touch didn't excite her as much as his had, but watching him see her touch herself did.

 

He stepped toward her and she stepped back. "Are you going to kiss me?"

 

A shadow crossed his features. "Lina..."

 

She didn't care that she taunted him. "You can put your dick in me, but you can't kiss me. Is that it?"

 

His jaw clenched as his stony gaze pierced her. "Didn't I tell you to be quiet?"

 

Oh, she hated being told what to do more than anything. "Leave, if you're going to leave. Fuck me, if that's what you came here to do. But if that's what you came here to do, you'd better make up your mind because I'll be damned if I make love to a man ever again who can't even kiss me first!"

 

Her body shook, her voice, too. He had allowed her to step from his embrace. She turned, stunned and furious as tears stung her eyes. She crossed her arms over herself, terribly conscious of his eyes on her.

 

"It wasn't that I didn't want to kiss you." Gavin's voice was low, nearly a growl. "Damn it, Lina. I was--"

 

"Was what?" She whirled to face him. "Afraid?"

 

She'd meant only to strike out at him to stop herself from feeling so badly. She didn't expect him to agree with her. He nodded quickly, his eyes smoldering and his jaw still set in a grim line that showed her he was as angry as she. But there was more, wasn't there? Beyond the anger? The heat of lust still burned inside her, and she could see it within him, too.

 

"You were afraid of me?" she asked, surprising herself with the softness of her voice. She stepped toward him, not quite close enough to touch. "Afraid to kiss me?"

 

He nodded again, then lifted his hands and shrugged. She didn't need to ask for an explanation. He'd told her before, that kissing to him was more intimate than sex. That kissing went along with holding hands and valentine's...with love. A year ago, she'd been on the verge of loving him. But now?

 

She sighed heavily and fought the tears in her eyes. "Maybe you'd better go."

 

Then just like that, before she could stop him, he'd gathered her in his arms and put his mouth to hers. Lina opened to him immediately. He tasted of mint, and the tang of beer, and the barest hint of cigarette smoke that told her he'd been to a bar before coming here. Sinking into his embrace was like waking from a nightmare to find herself safe in her own bed. Kissing Gavin was like coming home.

 

She ran her hands along his bare forearms. He was more muscular than she remembered. Stronger. Bigger. Or maybe he'd always been this way, and it had simply been so long her memories were faulty.

 

Whatever it was, Lina liked it. She squeezed his muscles gently, then harder as his kiss turned more fierce. Gavin put his hands beneath her elbows and lifted Lina onto her tiptoes.

 

Gavin let go of her and pulled his tee shirt over his head. He took both of Lina's hands and put them on his bare chest. Her fingers splayed against the smooth, warm skin, brushed the pebbling nub of his nipples.

 

Gavin undid his belt and opened the button on his jeans, then the zipper, and pushed the heavy denim down over his hips. He brought his mouth to hers again while he shoved his jeans over his thighs, then toed off his sneakers and hooked the jeans off with his feet.

 

Lina's bare breasts now caressed Gavin's chest, her belly pressed on the crinkly dark hair of his thighs and the hot hardness of his erection. She stood on her toes again to press herself more firmly against him. He left her lips and nipped at her neck, down to the sensitive place beneath her ear, to the curve where her shoulder met her throat.

 

He stepped forward and she stepped back, counting on him to guide her. She didn't hit any walls or fall over her own feet, and they kept kissing.

 

He pushed her into the bedroom, and unerringly, to the bed. "Nice bed."

 

The bed was new, as were the sheets and the apartment itself. She'd never brought a lover here. Lina didn't reply. She felt the softness of the mattress hit her just behind her knees, and she fell back.

 

Gavin didn't land on top of her. Instead, he lowered himself slowly down next to her. His palm rested on the slightly rounded curve of her belly.

 

His cock nudged her thigh. Lina looked into Gavin's eyes, expecting to see the same mocking look, or perhaps the hard, edgy look of anger she'd come to know so well. Instead, his eyes were full of an expression she wasn't sure she could identify: a mixture of lust, sadness and tenderness that made her put her hand to his cheek because she wasn't sure what else to do.

 

"Gavin?"

 

He blinked and shook his head roughly, as though to force away the moment of softness, but he couldn't convince her it hadn't been real. She pulled his head to her and kissed him. Their tongues met and danced.

 

His hand moved lower. One finger parted her curls, still damp from the shower, and found her swollen clitoris. Just the lightest touch had her hips bucking beneath him. Again, she started to speak, though even she wasn't sure what exactly she wanted to say.

 

He stopped her by putting his other hand to her lips. "Right to remain," he whispered, "silent."

 

His mouth captured hers. His finger moved in slow, lazy circles against her. Lina gave herself up to the sensation. Her thighs quivered.

 

Gavin slipped a fingertip inside her and pressed gently. Lina bent her knees and pushed herself more open, urging him as best she could without words to penetrate her further. Gavin pushed his finger deeper, and kept his thumb pressing its gentle, steady rhythm on her clit.

 

Lina's orgasm rushed toward her, inevitable and awesome. She exhaled and the hugeness of it filled her. She was flying.

 

The world drew in around her, tighter, closer. She gasped and closed her eyes. Stars swirled in her vision. Gavin moved his finger inside her once more, one more press of his thumb, and she came.

 

Lina shattered and exploded, then fused together in the blue white heat of her climax.

 

After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was grinning, damn him, the same old cocky grin. She couldn't bring herself to be angry with him, though. Not after coming so fiercely. Hell, she was lucky she could keep her eyes open.

 

"I didn't forget what you like," he said.

 

"I can see that."

 

"But I think I might've forgotten how you taste," Gavin said.

 

Lina drew in a breath at the implication of his words. "Think so?"

 

He answered by bending to take her nipple in his mouth. He suckled gently. She wouldn't have thought she could be aroused so soon after such a magnificent orgasm, but her cunt throbbed happily in time to the movement of his mouth. She was close already. She wasn't often multi-orgasmic, but tonight, Lina was pretty sure she wasn't done yet.

 

Gavin left the softness of her breast for the firmer section over her ribs. His lips nipped and tickled, and she squirmed.

 

"Don't make me restrain you for resisting," he told her, and again she heard no teasing in his voice.

 

He hadn't been in uniform, but she didn't doubt he could find a way to keep her still without handcuffs. Lina stopped wriggling even though his mouth on her skin was torture.

 

He continued kissing down across her belly, over the bone of her hip, across the curve of her thigh. She waited tensely for him to find her clit with his tongue. He paused, teasing. She felt his breath touch her.

 

He pushed himself between her legs and knelt there, supporting his weight on his arms. Lina kept still. Gavin put one hand on each side of her clitoris, spread her, then licked her.

 

Lina sighed. His tongue stroked her, first on one side, then the other. He kept the same steady rhythm he'd made with his thumb. Then he stopped. Waited for her reaction.

 

Lina puffed out some air from between her lips, but didn't speak. She didn't move. It was what he'd told her to do, but she could sense his dissatisfaction with her response, and it pleased her. Let him work a little harder for it.

 

He bent back between her legs, and Lina bit back the moan that threatened to escape her. Her clit pounded beneath his lips, not quite a climax but more like aftershocks from the first one continuing. Gavin paused, his lips pressed lightly to the sensitive bud, and she could tell he felt her twitching.

 

Was he smiling? She felt his lips curve against her, and that final, small movement sent her over the edge. She came slowly, languorously. Her orgasm rippled through her like waves lapping at the shore. She sighed and arched herself against his mouth. Her hands found the coarse thickness of his hair.

 

Gavin pushed himself up on one arm, then moved up the bed toward her. His eyes searched hers for a moment, and he opened his mouth as if to speak. He shook his head briefly, and closed his mouth.

 

"What?" she asked.

 

Again, he shook his head, but then spoke. "Maybe I should go."

 

At his words, her contented sleepiness vanished. She couldn't bring herself to say anything. Lina pulled the sheet up to cover herself.

 

"I shouldn't have come here," Gavin said. "But when I saw it was you tonight, I just...I had to..."

 

She bit her lip and watched him struggle for the right words.

 

"I've been driving fast on that stretch of road for three months," she confessed.

 

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes to look at her. "Really." Not a question.

 

"It wasn't an accident you pulled me over tonight, Gavin."

 

His tongue swiped across his lower lip, and the sight made Lina's breath catch in her throat. The dim light shining in from outside the bedroom made her think of how they used to make love by candlelight. Always by candlelight.

 

"You could've just called me," he said at last.

 

She thought of the times she'd put her hand to the phone, only to put it down before she could dial. "No. I didn't think you'd come here."

 

His hand ran up her thigh. "What did you think I'd do?"

 

"Truth?" She laughed. "I didn't think you'd do anything. I just... Oh, Gavin. I just wanted to see you again. Just to see you."

 

She couldn't call the words back, and she didn't want to. He stared at her for a moment before dropping his eyes to where his hand rested on her skin. Again, he licked his lip. His brow furrowed. He was thinking.

 

She reached out to touch his hair again, then rested her hand on his cheek. She couldn't remember ever giving him such a tender caress, and yet she'd done it twice tonight. Theirs had always been an antagonistic relationship, fraught with the fear of hurting and being hurt. She began to pull away, but his hand on hers stopped her.

 

"Lina." Just one word, her name, but it spoke volumes.

 

She'd never seen him hesitant before. It moved her, the way he tilted his head and moved closer, slowly, as though she might bite him instead of kiss him. His lips pressed hers. Her mouth parted, and again she tasted him. The scent and taste of him filled her and satisfied a craving she hadn't realized she'd had for the past year.

 

She wouldn't let him leave. Not now. Later, perhaps, when dawn streaked the sky and good sense returned, but not now. Now was for taking chances.

 

She pushed at his chest with her hand, and when he moved away, she followed. She didn't break the kiss. She ended up straddling his hips, the sheet an inconvenient bundle between them. Her breasts crushed against Gavin's chest. His hands found her waist, but to push her away or to pull her closer, she wasn't sure.

 

Lina took her mouth from his and bent to brush her lips along his ear, his jaw, the curve of his neck. She took his skin between her teeth, nipped and sucked until she heard him moan, and then she stopped to soothe the tiny hurt she'd caused with her tongue.

 

She felt him rise beneath the sheet. His erection nudged her backside, and she wriggled a little to allow it to slide between her thighs. The sheet bunched up around his cock, but was a welcome cushion against her still-sensitive clitoris. She could tell the barrier frustrated him, but she didn't move the sheet away.

 

Gavin's hands slid up from her waist to cup her breasts. Lina arched her back, and Gavin bent his head to take one nipple in her mouth. She pulled away and laughed silently at his muffled noise of protest.

 

She slid down his body and took the sheet in her teeth. She ought to have felt silly doing it, but she didn't. She pulled the sheet away and exposed his thick, hard cock to the air. She let the sheet drop and sat back to admire him.

 

He crossed his arms behind his head and looked down at her. A faint smile tugged at his lips, one she didn't return. She only looked.

 

"What?" he asked, almost, but not quite uncertain. Or maybe uncertain, but pretending not to be.

 

"Just looking," Lina replied. She reached out one finger to stroke the length of him. With two orgasms, her urgency had abated. Her clit still throbbed and beat in time with her heart, but the fierceness of it had softened. She felt like she could go all night now.

 

Gavin ran his tongue across his lips. His eyes closed, briefly, when she wrapped her fingers around him and gave a gentle squeeze. She stroked the head of his penis with soft fingers, then cupped the weight of his balls.

 

She loved his cock, the way it throbbed beneath her touch, the way it filled her. In the past year, she'd forgotten his favorite color, the breakfast cereal he preferred, the password to his email account. She had not, however, forgotten the taste of his flesh.

 

Without a second thought, Lina bent her head and took him into her mouth. He slid deep, deeper than she'd expected, and she opened herself to him as best she could. His groan told her she'd done well. His ass rose from the bed, just a little, as he nudged himself further into her mouth. She released him, then went down on him again, taking him in as far as she could while her hand still kept up the gentle pressure on his testicles.

 

Lina put her other hand on his stomach and let her fingers toy with the coarse hairs there. She drifted lower to the thick dark pubic patch, then wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock as she continued to suck him. She stroked and suckled in tandem while her other hand found the base of his balls and the smoothness there. She pushed, gently, and felt the beat of his heart answer her touch. He was close.

 

But she wasn't ready to have him come. Not yet. Not so soon. Lina sat back and looked again at his penis. It glistened in the dim light. She looked at Gavin's face. His eyes were still closed, his jaw clenched, his neck arched. He'd thrown one arm across his forehead.

 

He opened his eyes to look at her. "Lina."

 

Again, her name, as though he knew how the sound of it on his tongue made her wet for him. Lina reached into the bedside stand and pulled out the familiar foil packet. She'd thought ahead, been prepared, even though she hadn't imagined needing protection.

 

She tore it open and slid the condom onto him, then slid herself on his length with a smooth motion that seemed to surprise him. He arched his back, and his hands found her hips. His sigh turned into a moan as she wriggled.

 

"Damn." A curse or a prayer. It sounded like both. He thrust upward, into her.

 

She was so wet there was no resistance. Her vagina enclosed him, embraced him. She lifted herself on her knees, then slid down again, settling herself against the mound of his belly.

 

Gavin put one hand on her shoulder and pulled her down toward him. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her. Hard. His tongue swept inside and echoed the thrusts of his penis below. The duel sensation of him fucking her mouth and her pussy at the same time made Lina's clit begin to heat again.

 

She didn't think she could come again. It was too soon, and she'd been too thoroughly sated. Still, she couldn't resist the sensation that urged her to roll her pelvis so her sensitive bud pressed more firmly against him. Gavin slipped his thumb between them. The pressure was almost too much, nearly painful, and she gasped.

 

Lina moved her hips and slid him inside and out, let herself rock along his length, and let her clit press and move away from his thumb. His hand on her hip moved down to cup the curve of her buttock and help her rise and fall, impaled on the hardness of his cock.

 

Time seemed to slow. All that mattered was the feeling of his cock inside her, the press of his thumb on her swollen bud, the feeling of his hand cupping the soft flesh of her ass cheek. Gavin's lips captured hers, his tongue stabbed into her mouth, his hand on her shoulder kept her unable to move.

 

He'd taken control, as he always did, and it was about to send her over the edge. Lina pulled away and pushed back. She wiped the edge of her mouth and ceased the rocking motion of her hips. She looked at him.

 

His eyes were glazed with passion, and he asked her again. "What?"

 

She shook her head. "Let me make love to you."

 

"Isn't that what we're doing?" His sly grin made her vagina contract around his erection.

 

"No." Lina ran her finger across the softness of his lips. When he tried to take her finger in his mouth, playfully, she pulled away.

 

"No?"

 

Again, she shook her head. "Let me make love to you. Without you taking over. Being in charge. Let me...please you."

 

He nudged himself upward as though he couldn't help himself. Probably he couldn't. His face and the throbbing of his cock told her he was very close to coming. Lina kept herself still by clenching her thighs on his hips.

 

"Maybe I should restrain you," she said thoughtfully. "It might be the only way."

 

He didn't seem to like that idea. "Only way to what?"

 

She bent forward, but didn't let him kiss her. "To fuck you without you being in control," she whispered. "You're always in charge, Gavin. Don't you ever want to let go?"

 

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. "I don't know what you mean."

 

She rocked her hips and felt him shift inside her. In response, Gavin put his hands on her waist and thrust as best he could. She stopped moving and put her hand to his chest.

 

"See what I mean?" She asked. "You can't just lie back and enjoy yourself. You have to work."

 

"I want it to be good for you," he said.

 

It was probably the most painfully honest thing he'd ever said to her, but she didn't quite believe him.

 

"Bullshit. You like to be in charge. It's why we...it's why I couldn't..." She paused, considering what to say and then deciding there was no sense in playing coy. "It's why I left you a year ago. Because you always had to have things your way, to be in charge. You never let me take care of you. Never let me inside you. Never let me love you."

 

He flinched at the word. She saw him, but refused to be offended. Instead, Lina reached up to stroke his cheek for a third time that night.

 

She rocked her hips again and felt him pulse within. "Gavin, it's no good if you have to be on top all the time."

 

"I'm not on top now," he said, but she refused to be swayed by that cocky grin.

 

Lina bent to nuzzle his ear. "Put your hands on the headboard."

 

He did as she said, and even wrapped his fingers around the twisted metal rods that formed the headboard's design. Lina slid her hands over his arms and tapped his hands.

 

"Don't let go unless I tell you to."

 

He blew out a gust of air that turned to a slight moan when she clenched his cock inside her again. "Why not tie me up?"

 

Lina shook her head. "Because you'd never let me do that. Besides, it's much more difficult this way." She gave him a sly grin of her own. "If I tied you up, you'd have no choice but to do what I say. This way, it's all up to you."

 

He groaned again as she lifted herself up and down on his hard length. "When did you get to be such a hard ass?"

 

"A year without sex could make any woman a hard ass," she told him.

 

Her admission must have startled him because his eyes opened wide, but Lina gave him no time to comment. She leaned down and took his slightly opened mouth with hers, and enjoyed testing his strength of will as she delved between his lips with her tongue. She felt this shoulders twitch, but he didn't move his arms to embrace her. He thrust upward, into her, but she allowed him that transgression because it felt too good for her to complain.

 

The second time he thrust, she pulled back. "Stay still."

 

He muttered a curse that made her smile, but complied. Lina leaned forward again, this time to drop a series of feather soft kisses along his forehead, down his cheek, and along the edge of his jaw. She barely brushed his lips even though they opened eagerly beneath hers, before nuzzling his other cheek and dipping down to slide her tongue around the rim of his ear.

 

She stayed there for a moment, not moving. His cock beat inside her, the same rhythm she felt in his chest beneath her hand. She nuzzled him again, then nipped lightly at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. She blew on the spot of wetness her mouth had left behind, then sat up.

 

His hands were white-knuckled on the headboard, but he wasn't letting go. Lina reached for one taut nipple. She pinched it gently and was rewarded with a nearly silent moan. She gave the other nipple the same treatment. The position she was in didn't allow her to reach them with her mouth, so she quickly licked her fingers and then rubbed the moisture into his skin.

 

Both nipples tightened beneath her touch. Gavin closed his eyes and bit his lip. His fingers opened on the headboard, but did not let go.

 

Very good. He was learning.

 

Lina let her hands slide down to hold his waist. Gavin was a tall man, and muscular, but his waist was trim and she felt the knobs of his hips beneath her fingers. She pushed off, raising herself on his cock, then let herself slide back down.

 

And still, he didn't let go. He had very good self-control. She hadn't forgotten that. Control over everything. His emotions, his body...but not over her. For a moment, anxiety stabbed her. What on earth was she doing? What games was she playing? What had she been thinking when she drove so fast tonight in a place she knew he'd be?

 

"What's wrong?" His voice sounded gruff with passion, but the concern in his eyes was real. "You okay?"

 

She nodded without speaking, suddenly afraid she might begin to cry. This was what she wanted, Gavin in her bed and between her legs. But she wanted more than that. She wanted all of him. Not just a midnight fuck, but breakfast in the morning. She wanted holding hands, walks in the rain, and someone to spend holidays with. She wanted to know what he was going to say before he said it.

 

Lina wanted...love.

 

She bent and kissed him gently, then slid off him. She put her legs over the side of the bed, and dropped her feet on the floor, her back to him. She said nothing. Lina felt incredibly foolish.

 

Behind her, she heard him take his hands from the headboard. "Don't think so much," he said.

 

At the touch of his hand on her shoulder, Lina stood as though she'd been burned.

 

Suddenly desperate to escape, she fled to the bathroom. Without allowing herself to think, she turned on the hot water. Within seconds, the bathroom filled with steam as it had earlier. All she could think about was getting under the scalding spray to wash away the consequences of what she'd done.

 

The bathroom door banged open behind her. She faced the sink, and in the steam-clouded mirror she saw Gavin's form fill the doorway. Before she could turn, he was behind her, one hand wrapped in the length of her hair.

 

She couldn't move. His hand gripped her shoulder, and she felt the press of his thighs, belly and erection on her back. Despite herself, despite everything, Lina felt the answering twinge of arousal between her thighs.

 

She could fight him, kick and bite, make him force her...but she knew that, though his size and strength would allow him to overpower her, his personality would not. Gavin was forceful, but not a rapist. He held men in the worst sort of contempt who used their strength to hurt women. If she fought him, he'd let her go.

 

"Tell me to stop."

 

She wanted to. God, how she wanted to have the strength of will to tell him to go away, but she couldn't, and he knew it. She wanted him so badly her knees began to shake. She gripped the countertop to stay upright. Her head swam from the heat. The steam caressed her.

 

"Spread your legs."

 

She did, as the memory of his hands on her earlier beside the road made her breath come fast. Without pretense, Gavin slipped his hand from her shoulder and down between her legs. His finger stroked her, dipped inside and then came out again to swirl on her upright clit.

 

"You told me if I came here to fuck you to do it," Gavin told her in a voice rough with passion. "And I intend to do that, Lina. Whatever else we have to talk about, whatever else you need to say to me, can wait."

 

The thought of telling him the truth made Lina feel almost as light-headed as the heat did. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a soft, low moan as Gavin slid his cock inside her.

 

His first thrust lifted her onto her tiptoes. Lina bent forward, rocking with him. Gavin's fingers danced on her clit, then withdrew, but she no longer needed them. Her clit pounded as he stretched her.

 

Lina bent forward further still, until her breasts crushed against the slick counter. It felt much cooler than the air against her cheek. She felt his hands on her hips, holding her steady as he slid in and out of her.

 

Another orgasm built inside her, ripples of pleasure that ebbed and flowed. She waited for the lightning bolt of climax, but her body didn't respond that way. Instead, her pussy clenched and released, her clit throbbed, the soft skin of her inner thighs trembled. She was coming, over and over, without end. One constant stream of sensation that left her gasping and begging for release.

 

"Say my name," she demanded.

 

"No," he gasped. "I won't."

 

"You will." Hearing it would send her over the edge. She needed it. "Say my name when you come."

 

She waited and felt the pounding of his cock grow inside her. He was close. Very close. His grip grew painful, but the pain only enhanced the urgency.

 

"Lina," she heard him say at last, and he thrust one last time.

 

At the same moment, her vagina contracted. Her orgasm flowed through her like water over stones, rippling and tumbling throughout her entire body.

 

She cried out, a wordless noise of pleasure. The world swam. She went limp against the counter.

 

After a moment, he pulled out of her. She made a soft noise of protest. She heard him dispose of the condom in the trashcan. She couldn't move. A light-headed languor filled her. She thought if she stood up too straight, she might very well faint.

 

Gavin fiddled for a moment with the shower faucets. Then he reached around and took first one hand, then the other. He turned her to face him. Lina put her face against his chest and took in the scent of him.

 

He didn't speak to her, and she was glad not to have to answer. Gavin helped her step into the shower and pushed her gently until she sat on the built-in seat while he got in, too. The narrow stall wasn't really big enough for two of them, but at least the water wasn't scalding any more. He'd adjusted the temperature to a nice, calming warmth.

 

She tilted her head and let the water flow over her face and across her breasts, down over her belly and between her legs. She'd fled the bedroom to avoid telling him how she felt, but Lina had no more strength for flight. She could only sit and let the water wash over her.

 

Gavin took the net sponge from its hook and squirted a generous amount of body wash into it. In seconds the sponge was filled with thick, fragrant suds. He knelt in front of her. The water had slicked his dark hair over his forehead and over his cheeks.

 

"You look like a gladiator," she told him, amused by the drunken sound of her voice.

 

He smiled and lifted her foot into his hands. She startled at the sensation, and he put one finger to his lips in a gesture of silence.

 

"What--" she began, but Gavin's words stopped her.

 

"Right to remain," he reminded her.

 

He lifted the sponge to her foot and soaped it gently, holding it still when the tickling made her squirm. He lathered the sole and between each toe, then slid the sponge up over her ankle and shin.

 

His fingers closed around Lina's calf. The sponge moved in slow, exquisite circles. He moved higher, over her knee and to her thigh. The slightly rough sponge gave just enough sensation, softened by the thickness of the suds. She spread her legs a little wider.

 

Gavin swiped his tongue across his lips as the water sluiced over him. Lina was suddenly, intensely grateful for the industrial size hot water tank her landlord had installed several months before.

 

Gavin left the temptation between her legs and went to the foot he hadn't yet soaped. He followed the same ritual, thoroughly, and worked his way from her toes to her inner thigh.

 

This time, too, he ignored her center and reached for one of her hands. He soaped each finger, her palm, her wrists, all the way up her arm and to her shoulder. Then the other hand and arm. Gavin took handfuls of water and sloshed them over Lina's skin to clean away the suds.

 

Next he took a dollop of shampoo and thoroughly washed her hair, even rinsing it without getting any suds in her eyes. He spread lather across her chest, dipped down to her belly, then up again to caress with soapy fingers her peaked nipples.

 

Lina sighed, but didn't speak. The warmth, the water, Gavin's gentle fingers, all had put her into a sort of trance. She didn't think she could have moved away had she wanted to.

 

She startled again when the sponge nudged at her pussy. The rough net was almost, but not quite, too harsh against her love-sensitized flesh. She bit her lower lip at the pleasure/pain his touch granted.

 

He put the sponge down and soaped her softly with his fingertips. He circled her clit, which jumped beneath his touch. Lina gasped. Her head lolled against the shower wall.

 

Gavin leaned back to let the finally cooling stream of water pelt her exposed clit and vagina. Then, with the soap completely gone, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her. His tongue sought the slick inner folds he hadn't irritated with soap. Gavin parted her. Water ran from his face, over her lips and across her flesh, cleaning away every remnant of their lovemaking and leaving her fresh and clean.

 

The water was now cold, refreshing...exhilarating against the heat of her flesh. Gavin reached up and turned off the faucet. He stood and grabbed a thick towel from the shelf next to the shower, then took one of Lina's hands and pulled her upright. She wobbled a little, overloaded with sexual arousal and heat. He caught her with one hand and helped her step onto the saturated bathmat. Then he wrapped the towel around her and tucked the ends securely.

 

Lina moved toward the bathroom door, but Gavin stopped her. Silently, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Lina put her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, welcoming his strength when she had none.

 

Gavin laid her on the bed as gently as if she were made of crystal. He left her side just long enough to grab her comb from the dresser, and then came back and stretched out beside her. He began to pull the comb through a hank of her hair, from the bottom up, to prevent from pulling when the comb hit a tangle.

 

She'd never known he could be like this. Lina's heart squeezed in her chest. What else was Gavin capable of?

 

When he'd finished, he kissed her. It was but a brief brush of his lips on hers, a gentle pressure that promised passion, but not force. Then he stretched out, naked, beside her and put his arms behind his head.

 

Lina rolled to look at him. She couldn't stop her hand from tracing the line of his jaw and shoulder, then resting on his chest. He watched her, his expression neutral but his eyes filled with an emotion she couldn't quite identify.

 

"I'm sorry," he said.

 

It was the last thing in the world she'd have expected him to say, and her surprise must have shown on her face.

 

"I'm a bastard," he said.

 

She shook her head. "No. Well, sometimes. Yes. But not now."

 

He sighed and reached for her hand. "Is that why you left me?"

 

Lina gave a small chuckle. "Because you can be a bastard? No. I left you because you wouldn't let me close to you. Because you wouldn't let me love you. And I couldn't be with you knowing that no matter what I did, or how I felt about you, you were going to keep shutting me out."

 

There. I said it. Lina drew in a breath of relief. She'd told him the truth.

 

"Then why did you do what you did tonight?"

 

Good question, and one she wasn't quite sure she could answer. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. Unfinished business. I don't know, Gavin. I guess I just had to find out if there could possibly be anything between us."

 

His fingers entwined further with hers. "And what do you think?"

 

She looked into his eyes. "I want more than a one-night stand. I want more than an occasional fuck. I want more."

 

He sat up and let go of her hand to run his fingers through his hair. "Shit."

 

Offended, she moved to turn from him, but again he stopped her.

 

"Wait," Gavin said. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

 

"How did you mean it then?" She knew she sounded combative, but didn't care.

 

"Lina, in the past year, I've dated about a dozen women."

 

Her brows raised and she gave him an incredulous look. "I don't want to hear this."

 

"Just listen, okay?" He blew out a sigh and leaned back against the headboard. "I never dated any one of them more than twice. I never took any of them to bed. And I never stopped wishing each one of them was you."

 

She stared at him, silent, not sure what to say. Her hair, drying tangle free, flopped on her face and she pushed it away. He watched her carefully.

 

"I drove past your house so many times I thought for sure you'd file a complaint." He smiled. "I wanted you to make a complaint. I wanted to know that you noticed."

 

His admission ought to have been creepy, but it wasn't. Lina had to bite her lip to hide a smile. "We've been stupid."

 

"A whole year stupid."

 

She sighed. "So where does that leave us now?"

 

"Damned if I know."

 

She leaned back against the pillows beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't know either."

 

Had she ever lain next to him in such companionable silence? Lina didn't think so. Their affair had been tempestuous, electric and sexually satisfying...but not particularly companionable. She rested her cheek against his smooth flesh and felt the pulse of his heart beneath her lips. He smelled good.

 

"Would it help if I kissed you?"

 

His question made her raise her head to look at him. "Now?"

 

"Now. Tomorrow. All the time." He paused. "I mean, not just on Christmas or your birthday."

 

She nodded slightly and wet her lips. "Yes. I think that would help."

 

"And if I held your hand at the movies? And brought you flowers? And took care of you when you're sick?

 

"And what about--" Now he kissed her firmly and fully, so she could scarcely catch her breath. "--if I told you I loved you?"

 

"Oh, yes," Lina replied after a minute when she could finally speak. "I think that would help a whole lot."

 

It wasn't everything, but as she bent to kiss him again, Lina thought it might just be enough.

 

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About the author:

I was born and then I lived a while and I did some stuff. Then I did some things and whatnot. Now, I mostly write books.

 

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photo credit: Scott Church