Shockwave (Calendar Men: Mr. May)

by D. L. Jackson

  They’d tried before in the past with several of their granddaughters, and he’d always passed. They were experts at applying pressure and blindsiding their granddaughters who had no idea he existed until they sprung the trap was their specialty. If they thought there might be a remote possibility of getting them together, which the closet incident would make them certain of, they’d go for the throat. He had an idea the direction of the conversation, but he wanted to hear what they had to say from Lannie—see what they’d given her to put him under her spell. They weren’t in short supply of ideas, not after all the racy novels he’d read them.

  She squirmed, shifting in her seat, opened her mouth and the waitress came over with their pizza, setting the pan between them. Ding, ding. Saved by the bell. Tanner gave her his most wicked smile. “Later.”

  “I’m starving.” She grabbed a slice of the pie, folding it in half and taking a bite while she pretended she hadn’t heard him. Oh, but she had. Her hands shook and damn if the woman didn’t look spooked. Before the sun rose and the cock crowed, he’d find out what had her ready to flee as if he jumped at her and said boo.

  As a cerebral person, he loved solving mysteries, and Lannie Sawyer was a puzzle he would enjoy dissecting. Yeah, he knew he should be running for the hills, considering all the trouble she’d caused him in the past, but now that he’d kissed those plump lips, he didn’t want to run.

  On second thought, maybe he ought to loosen her up first. Any more tense and she’d snap. One thing might work. It had been a long time since he’d gone out dancing, and spinning Lannie around the floor held a great deal of appeal. “There’s a country bar down the road. You ever dance—the two step.”

  “No.”

  “Then tonight is your lucky night. I happen to know how.”

  Chapter Four

  Lannie scuffed her boot on the hard oak, taking note of the sawdust on the floor. She’d have to watch her step or risk landing on her ass. She’d never been all that coordinated and, as she watched the couples move around the room, her anxiety rose.

  He’d heard her out, but he hadn’t given her an answer yet, and she’d no reason not to humor him, even if country music wasn’t her thing. Tanner dropped a twenty at the door for their cover and came up behind her. He turned her around and walked her backward, toward the open area in front of the stage. Grabbing one of her hands, he guided her palm to his waist. The other, he held. “Ready?” He gave her a shit-eating grin.

  “I don’t know how to....”

  “Follow my lead. Do everything I do, backward. Right back, left back, right slow, pause, left slow. Then we’ll do the steps again.”

  The band started up, with a twangy guitar, and Tanner stepped forward with his left and on her foot. “You have to move. Try again. Here we go, on the count of three. One. Two. Three.” He stepped forward and she stepped back. They repeated on the other side. “Right, left, right, pause, left, bring them together. Quick, quick, slow, pause, slow, together.” Within seconds, they were moving around the floor. After about ten minutes, Tanner spun her and screwed up any control she’d maintained.

  Lannie tripped, but he caught her with a hand behind her back and made her klutziness look like a dip. When he pulled her up, the world rushed forward, and she laughed. “Yee haw. How do you know how to do this?”

  “I’m from Wyoming, grew up there. Ready?”

  She shook her head.

  “You got this. Start again. Right, left, right slow, pause, left slow, together, and now I spin you.”

  “No!” She blurted out too late. He whipped her under his arm, brought her back so they were chest-to-chest, and much closer than they’d danced before.

  He paused for a second to wink and started the process all over again. “Now we’re going to pick the pace up a bit.”

  “Oh, crap.”

  She stepped on his foot.

  Tanner leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Close your eyes, listen to the beat, and move in the direction I take you.”

  She did as instructed and he whirled her around, moving them across the floor. With her eyes closed, it proved easier to follow him and focus on the beat. When they came to an abrupt stop, with the music still playing, Lannie’s lids snapped open. He’d navigated her to a dark corner off the side of the stage and stared down at her with a great deal of intensity.

  “Want something to drink?” She licked her lips. “We can grab a beer.”

  Tanner shook his head.

  “Are you tired?” Thump, thump, thump, her pulse pounded.

  “Not at all.”

  “Then why are we standing...?”

  “You are so beautiful.” His mouth covered hers in a kiss, sending her into a bigger spin than all the dancing they’d done. Her toes curled back to her heels and a ball of heat blossomed in her stomach. The world reeled. Good Lord, she was a goner if he kept doing things like that.

  He reached into her hair and tugged free the stick she’d wound her unruly locks on, and dropped it. Her hair fell around her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. Tanner grabbed a fistful and tugged her head back to expose her throat. Diving in, he kissed her neck, nipping his way down to a sensitive spot behind her ear. She soaked her panties. One second more and she’d find a closet and push him inside to finish what they’d started earlier. She’d never been with a man so direct—or bold, but she should have known what to expect after the last time they clashed.

  He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. “I want more. I want you naked and underneath me, but before we go there—and we will, I want to let you know I’m going to do the shoot. Call your guy.”

  Her heart pounded, beating so hard she forgot to breathe. She’d get the job and have solid credits to get her back on the journalistic map, and put enough experience on her resume to secure a serious job in New York City. He’d saved her noni from a bad situation and become her biggest hero. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I want to fuck you six ways to Tuesday.”

  She smacked his arm. “Not that—the shoot. You’re going to do it? You’re not agreeing to go along to get into my pants?”

  “Said I would, and no, I’d already decided I’d get into your pants before I said yes.”

  She raised a brow and opened her mouth to tell him not to be so certain, but didn’t get a chance.

  An old man pulled out a fiddle and stepped up to the microphone. He rested his instrument on his shoulder, tucking the body into the crook of his neck, before lifting the bow and tearing up the stage with music born in the Great Smoky Mountains; sounds she imagined would have livened up the room one hundred years before as much as the melody did now.

  “Now this is the shit.” Tanner grinned. “Dance with me.”

  “To this? I can’t....”

  “You keep saying you can’t, but I’ve yet to see you can’t.” Tanner grabbed her hand and pulled her out on the floor. “Everyone can swing—jitterbug.”

  In and out, around and around, Lannie whirled and spun until breathless. Her belly hurt from laughing, her damp hair stuck to the back of her neck, and her feet ached without mercy, but she’d never had more fun on a date. That he didn’t drag her off to bed after he told her he wanted her, said a lot. He savored the moment, no matter what the moment. In a matter of hours, Tanner North had stolen her heart.

  ***

  Tanner held her tight as they stumbled into her room at two in the morning, laughing as though they were drunk, even though they’d shared one beer between them the entire night. He leaned in and kissed her neck, savoring the way she shivered under his mouth.

  The second she turned the deadbolt, she grabbed the heel of her boot, while hopping on the other foot and yanked it off, repeating the process. She stood and up and smiled. “So....”

  Tanner was on her. “Now where were we earlier? Yeah.” He backed her against the door. “Right about here.” He popped the button on her jeans and unzipped them. Leaning in, he caught her lower lip between his tee
th and tugged. “They say a woman’s pussy is the same color as her lips. You must look like a fucking goddess down there,” he murmured against the corner of her mouth. “I love your sassy mouth.”

  “You are a bad boy, Tanner North. I don’t care what my grandmother says.”

  “So you were talking about me.” He pushed his hands inside the waistband, running his palms along her hips, shucking the fabric off her hips and down her ass, letting the denim drop to her ankles, following up with a squeeze to her left cheek.

  “Maybe.” She pulled her feet out one at a time, kicking her jeans away. “Maybe not.”

  “I think I’ll need to interrogate to find out what.” He let his gaze travel from the tips of her toes back up to her face. “I’d say this is right about where we left off.”

  When he claimed her mouth, she closed her eyes. Tanner grabbed her hair again, holding her to him, devouring her with the hunger of a man starved. She peeked from under thick lashes, holding his gaze. It had been a long time, if ever, since he’d been with a woman as hot.

  Not letting go for a good long while—if ever. He hooked the crotch of her panties, tugged them off her mound, and slid a finger along her crease until her found her clit. Lannie bucked against him, so he pinched the swollen nub between his index and thumb, with some force, but not enough to inflict pain. She gasped and did the unexpected, coming hard enough to drip onto his hand. “Holy shit, honey. You always get off that quick?”

  “Only with you.”

  Hell, the woman could become a sexual addiction in short order. “Let’s go for two.” He caught her earlobe in his teeth and slipped two fingers into her pussy, twisting and curling them up when he found what he sought. G equaled go, and Lannie’s diminishing orgasm exploded to life, sending more cream running onto his hand.

  “Fuck me.” She slammed her head back into the door. “I want a hard, nasty screw against the wall. Now.”

  “You got a condom?” He pumped his fingers in and out, milking the spasms for all they were worth.

  “Um.” Lannie groaned and rocked, riding his fingers. “I’m on the pill and clean—never had sex without a rubber.” She panted as he slipped a third digit in. “Please tell me you’re all set.”

  All systems go, and the condoms in the bag in his room were shoved to the back of his mind. “Yes. Recently had a physical.” But he could tell her he hadn’t been with another woman without a rubber since he’d broken up with his fiancée and he’d been tested after he caught her cheating. He knew beyond doubt he was clean, but she didn’t make him explain. She trusted him.

  “Good enough.” She tore his belt open, ripped his zipper down, and pulled his cock out. Lannie waited for no one. One jump and she’d locked herself around his hips, ready for action. He pulled his hand away from her pussy, catching her in time. His fingers dug into her ass, increasing the chance he’d leave a bruise or two, but damn he didn’t think she’d care.

  She reached down and moved his cock into position. Without hesitating, she grabbed the hair on the sides of his head and forced him to look her in the eyes, their lips close enough to touch. “No more foreplay. I’ve been wet all night. Fuck me already.”

  No further encouragement needed, Tanner slammed into her. Holy hell. Hot. Tight. His dick had little room to move, not that he would complain. Damn, he wouldn’t get far, not with her squeezing him the way she did. He’d give her the hard screw she’d asked for, but he couldn’t guarantee endurance—at least not the first time. His balls tightened. He pumped his hips twice before she came again. Her whimpers turned into screams and she buried her face in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound.

  Nails raked under his shirt. Tanner couldn’t take any more. He began to fuck her hard enough to bounce her off the door and wake everyone in the motel. With the way she responded, screaming out, yelling, most men would assume she faked her pleasure. But the juice running down his balls, the way her cunt throbbed around him told him she didn’t pretend and her arousal was all because of him.

  “Harder. Damn you. Fuck me, Tanner!” The faster he slammed into her, the deeper he drove his cock, the more she cried out, asking for more. “Oh, God. Tanner.”

  He kissed along her jaw and then down, wanting for some unknown reason to mark her with a hickey. She arched her back, giving him access to his favorite part of the female anatomy, her throat. Lannie had an exceptional one, long and graceful.

  One might classify him as weird for loving a woman’s throat over her breasts or ass, but his attraction wasn’t about the way the neck looked, not completely. A person only had to nibble behind a woman’s ear or on her nape and see the way she surrendered so completely to understand. A puff of breath under her jaw, a kiss along the pulse, and a woman would throw a man of his back and take what she wanted. That kind of reaction could be addictive as crack. So, he gave into the urge, sucking on her flesh like a teenager, and in doing so, he discovered her go button.

  “Don’t stop. I’m going to come again.”

  “For the love of God, I can’t hang on if you keep doing that.” He slammed her ass back on the door and began to bang her in earnest. Harder. Faster.

  “Tanner.” She thrashed and scratched his shoulders and back. Her pussy clenched down, a quick warning before the walls of her cunt convulsed.

  “I can’t hold back.” Lannie was unique. Most women needed a long warm-up, slow grinding, and, when they found their release, they were done. Lannie kept coming, and coming and coming and, as he’d warned her, the way she responded to him proved to be more than he could take. Seconds later, Tanner went over the edge and into the abyss with her, certain they’d made it one for the record books.

  He nuzzled her shoulder, taking deep breaths, trying to catch his second wind. “Woman, you’re going to kill me.”

  Lannie laughed. “I have never had so many orgasms at one time. You were fucking amazing—a freaking rock star.” She tilted her head and kissed him, breaking away after about a minute and pressing her lips to his ear. “But you’re going to have to let me off this wall because we both could use a shower.” She licked along his neck, tasting him. “And I want to suck your cock while we’re in there.”

  Tanner groaned. “You don’t take prisoners, do you?”

  “No.”

  Tanner set her down on shaky legs, which felt more like rubber than flesh and bone. Lannie resisted the urge to stretch and roll around on the bed in complete bliss. She’d never been as satisfied and maybe her noni had been on to something. There could be more between them needing exploration. A screw against the door wouldn’t be enough to find out what.

  After the sweaty night dancing and the even more vigorous workout that followed, she needed a shower. Tanner, too.

  Since he’d slid his cock inside her, she’d become obsessed with wrapping her lips around him and sucking him off. Bringing a man to pleasure had always been a huge turn on. She’d orgasmed while giving oral before, and a blowjob would be the first order of business, once she got him in the shower. God, she wanted to taste his cock. She crooked her finger as she walked by and to the bathroom to start the spray. Steam began to fill the room, fogging the mirror. Tanner stood behind her, in the doorway, watching. She wiped the glass off with her palm. No sense in blocking the view.

  Lannie pulled her shirt over her head, unfastened her bra, and dropped them both to the floor. She hooked her panties with her thumbs and shimmied them down, turning around as Tanner stepped into her lair. He gave her a good once over and began to strip.

  This time she got to play voyeur, and leaned back against the pedestal sink, gripping the edge, drawing in a deep breath. She’d yet to see him naked and couldn’t wait.

  He eyed her and the corner of his mouth twitched. Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, he peeled the fabric up ever so slowly. Her fingers itched to grab and rip the damned garment off, and from the wicked gleam in his eyes, he damn well knew it. Yeah, he’d cued in on her impatience and took his ever-loving sweet time in a
strip tease that had her gnawing on her lip and shifting from foot to foot. By the time his shirt landed next to hers, she’d had enough. Lannie grabbed him by the belt loops and backed into the shower stall, pulling him in, jeans, boots and all.

  She sank to her knees and ran her hands down his thighs. The wet denim molded to his reemerging erection, and demonstrated he’d recovered. Ready for round two. She looked up and he shook his head. “You could have let me undress.”

  “You could have moved faster. I’ve never been very patient.” She unlaced his boots, pulled them off, and tossed them outside the shower. “Now you’ll have to stay here until your clothes dry.”

  “Are you asking me to stay the rest of the night?”

  “I’m not asking.” She grabbed his waistband up and yanked his jeans and boxers down. His cock stood out against a thick nest of hair. Hard. Ready. She’d known his girth felt above average when they’d had sex, but seeing his thickness was another matter. Much more than she’d expected. Big man. Big dick. Her mouth watered. Lannie let her gaze travel up. His torso had very little hair, with the exception of his happy trail, which ran from his navel down. His abs were defined, the kind a man would have if he worked out several times a week. She raked her fingers down them, enjoying the way his cock jerked in response.

  Broad shoulders. Strong arms. Wait until women saw him without a shirt in the calendar. His previous picture in Kosovo had been a panty dropper, but with a little skin showing.... Good lord, she’d be beating them off him. Lannie blinked and shook off the possessive thought. She had claim to one night, maybe the weekend—nothing more. He’d never be hers and thinking he could, would end one way.

  With a broken heart.