The sensations thundering through Althea’s body were almost too intense to call pleasure. She couldn’t bear the building pressure, and when she finally erupted, it was in an endless series of spasms that wrenched a loud, broken sob from her.
The spasms had barely abated when Damien pulled out of her. “Turn around,” came his rough command.
Althea obeyed without hesitation, and when he took her from behind she screamed, pain mingling with the erotic pleasure. He thrust hard, his body slapping against her backside, his strong fingers digging into her buttocks. She moaned uncontrollably, her hands splayed on the table, her breasts bouncing up and down with his deep, powerful strokes.
Their coupling was so good it was almost unbearable. She couldn’t take it. She tried to push him away, only to pull him closer. When he reached between her legs and traced his thumb around her clitoris, she arched backward like a bow. And fell apart.
They came violently at the same time.
When it was over, when Damien shuddered and collapsed on top of her, their lungs heaving for air, Althea could not find the strength to move. Neither, apparently, could he. They remained like that for several minutes, slumped weakly over the table, his throbbing penis buried deep inside her.
When Althea could frame a coherent thought again, she realized that her throat felt raw from all the screaming she’d done. She wondered if any of her new neighbors had heard, and promptly decided she didn’t give a damn.
There was a wet suctioning sound as Damien eased out of the slick clasp of her body and raised himself off her. He turned her over and lifted her back onto the table, gently brushing away the damp tendrils of hair that clung to her face.
Althea curved her arms around his neck and gazed into the molten darkness of his eyes. His lids were at half mast, and the soft glow of lamplight washed across the hard angles and planes of his face. He was sexier than any man had a right to be, and tonight, he was all hers.
One night only, she reminded herself, lest she become too greedy. A man like Damien made it easy for a woman to beg for more.
“Happy birthday,” she whispered.
“Mmm,” came the deliciously husky rumble. “You have no idea.”
Althea couldn’t help but smile. She brushed her lips across his forehead and the strong bridge of his nose, then kissed his closed eyelids, telling herself she was crazy for indulging such a tender impulse.
“I took you away from your own birthday party,” she murmured.
He laughed softly. “You don’t hear me complaining.”
“True.” Unable to resist, she dipped the tip of her tongue into the wickedly sexy dimple carved into his right cheek. She delighted in the small tremor that shook him.
“Spend the night with me.” The words were out before she could stop them.
Not that she would have.
His thick black lashes slowly lifted. The eyes that bored into hers were smoldering pools of onyx.
Without a word, he swept her into his arms and started purposefully toward the bedroom.
Saturday, October 4
Day 2
Althea awoke to the brilliant warmth of sunshine bathing her face. Without opening her eyes, she yawned and stretched languorously in the four-poster bed, like a cat rousing from an afternoon nap. She couldn’t have slept more than a few hours last night, but she had never felt more refreshed in her life.
As she slowly opened her eyes, a soft, satiated smile curved the corners of her mouth. What a night. What an absolutely incredible night. One she would definitely remember for a long time, if not for the rest of her life.
Rolling over, she found herself alone in the rumpled bed. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. Which was ridiculous. Of course she should be relieved that Damien had snuck out of her apartment sometime in the middle of the night without saying good-bye. By doing so, he had spared himself the awkwardness of having to make promises he didn’t intend to keep, such as I’ll call you or Let’s do this again sometime.
Actually, he’d done them both a favor by disappearing before she woke up. Althea would have been mortified if he’d felt compelled to lie to her or, worse, if he had genuinely wanted to see her again.
What they’d shared had been a one-time thing, a night of no-holds-barred sex between two mature, consenting adults. No mess, no fuss. No strings attached. Those were the rules.
So why did she find herself wondering what time he’d left and how long he’d been gone?
Althea frowned at the ceiling.
Last night she’d told herself that having a one-night stand with a sexy, gorgeous man like Damien was all she needed, but now, in the sobering light of day, she wasn’t so sure. The truth was that she’d never been the type of woman who took strangers home for casual sex and engaged in meaningless flings. No, she was the type of woman who’d once saved herself for someone special, someone who genuinely cared about her and was interested in more than just claiming the prize of her virginity. That someone had been her college sweetheart, and although, ultimately, he’d betrayed her in the worst possible way, Althea had never regretted giving herself to him.
Just as she had no regrets about sleeping with Damien.
The memory of their savage lovemaking long into the night made her belly quiver on a wave of sexual arousal. She remembered the erotic invasion of his tongue in her mouth and the searing intensity of his gaze as he carried her into the bedroom. She remembered the way he’d wrapped her fingers around the bedpost and held them there while he thrust into her. One hard, long stroke after another until she was screaming in ecstasy and begging for mercy.
The sex with Damien had been so spectacular, so unlike anything she had ever experienced before, that she half wondered if she’d dreamed the whole encounter. But, no, the throbbing ache between her thighs, the musky scent clinging to the rumpled linens, and the indentation on the pillow beside hers were all too real.
When the phone rang she groaned softly, resenting the intrusion. She reached across the nightstand and picked up on the final ring. “Hello?”
“Althea Lynette Pritchard, you got some splainin’ to do!”
Althea chuckled dryly. “Good morning to you, too, Keren. I was wondering who would call first—you or Kimberly.”
“We’ve both been trying to reach you on your cell phone all morning! I finally remembered that you gave me your new home number before you left Seattle. Girl, I can’t believe you went home with a complete stranger last night!”
Althea grinned at her friend’s scandalized tone. “Okay, um, did you happen to see that particular stranger?”
“Of course I did! Every woman at the club did. He was fine as hell. But that’s not the point. You left with a perfect stranger after just one dance! Did you two even have a chance to exchange names before you hightailed it out of there?”
Althea bristled. “Of course we did.” First names anyway. “Look, did you call to lecture me or get the salacious details of my, ah, evening?”
Keren grumbled, “I called to make sure you were all right.” She paused a beat. “And to get the salacious details!”
Althea laughed. “I thought so.”
When she offered no more, Keren prompted impatiently, “Well?”
Smiling, Althea toyed with the edges of her satin duvet. “Well, since we all took a cab to the club last night,” she began, “I brought him to my apartment so I wouldn’t have to worry about catching a ride home afterward.”
“But you’ve got unopened boxes all over the place.” Keren had always been the practical one. Kimberly wouldn’t have given a rat’s ass about the state of Althea’s apartment while Damien was there.
“All the boxes are gone,” Althea said. “Didn’t I tell you? My aunt came over earlier this week when my stuff arrived from Seattle and unpacked everything for me. It was such a wonderful surprise.”
“That was very thoughtful of her,” Keren agreed. “Now get back to—”
But Althea sudden
ly bolted upright. “Oh my God! I forgot to plug in my alarm clock yesterday. What time is it?”
“Ten-thirty. Why?”
“I’m supposed to be meeting my aunt and uncle for lunch in an hour!”
Keren groaned in protest. “But I wanted to hear—”
“I have to go.” Althea flung back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“Do you have to go now?”
“Yes! Look, they didn’t complain when I told them I’d be spending my first night back in town with friends. The least I can do is show up on time to eat with them.”
“Oh, all right. I need to get out and run some errands anyway.” Keren heaved a deep, resigned sigh. “Will you call me later?”
“Of course. And tell Kimberly I’m okay.” Althea paused with a wicked grin. “Better than okay.”
She hung up on Keren’s groan of frustration and hurried into the adjoining bathroom to take a shower.
As she stood beneath the hot spray, her thoughts strayed once again to Damien and the events of last night. She’d thrown caution to the wind by approaching him at the club and asking him to dance, setting the stage for what would become the most incredible night of her life. An unforgettable night. That was all it had been, and that was all it could ever be. Damien’s disappearing act was proof that he felt the same way. He hadn’t stuck around to have a cup of coffee with her, or even to indulge in one last tumble between the sheets. Before the first pink rays of dawn lightened the sky, he had gotten dressed and snuck out of her apartment with the stealth of a cat burglar.
Judging by the amount of female attention he’d been receiving at the club, it wouldn’t have surprised Althea to learn that he did this sort of thing all the time. By this time next week, she would be nothing but a distant memory to him. He would remember her only as the bold, freaky woman with whom he had spent an amazing few hours on the night of his thirty-fourth birthday. He and his friends would laugh about it the next time they visited the club, which would probably be the following weekend.
Not that it mattered one way or the other, Althea reminded herself as she rinsed soap off her body. It made no difference whether Damien remembered her, or in what manner. They would never see each other again.
Which was as it should be.
She’d had her one night of carefree fun, and now it was time to move on. With any luck, by tomorrow afternoon she’d be buried to her nose in tough new cases that would keep her too preoccupied to dwell on thoughts of Damien No-Last-Name and the mind-blowing night of passion they had shared.
Besides, Althea mused, in a city the size of Baltimore, what were the odds of running into him again anyway?
Chapter 4
Damien Wade stood under a pounding shower spray, his head bowed and his eyes closed as he let the hot water pour over his body. His muscles ached, and he was operating on less than four hours of sleep. But he wasn’t complaining.
Not after the incredible night he’d just had.
He smiled as vividly erotic images stole through his mind. When he’d agreed to celebrate his birthday with friends at the downtown nightclub, never could he have imagined that the celebration would end with him making love to the most beautiful, exciting woman he’d ever met—a woman he hadn’t known existed before that evening.
And to think he’d almost missed her.
After a long, trying day at the office, Damien had been looking forward to spending a relaxing evening with his eleven-year-old daughter India. It was a long-standing tradition for the two of them to celebrate his birthday together, which usually meant dinner at his favorite restaurant followed by a trip to the skating rink, which was her favorite pastime. It didn’t really matter where they went or what they did, as long as they could spend quality time together. Six years ago when Damien lost custody of India, he’d promised her that he would always be part of her life, and despite her mother’s efforts to the contrary, he’d kept his promise.
When Angelique called him at the office yesterday to let him know that India wouldn’t be joining him that evening, he’d thought his ex-wife was up to her old tricks again, until India herself got on the phone and in a small, tremulous voice asked him if he’d be mad if she attended her first middle-school dance instead of spending his birthday with him. Damien hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry over the startling realization that his little girl was growing up right before his very eyes. He gave her his blessing and told her to have a good time at the dance.
When he hung up the phone, Marshall Blake, who’d been shamelessly eavesdropping on the conversation, stood and peered over the cubicle at Damien. “Tough break about the kid standing you up. But now you have no excuse not to hang out with the fellas tonight.” Before Damien could refuse, he said, “Come on, Wade. It’s your birthday—live a little!”
It turned out to be the best piece of advice Marshall Blake had ever given him.
The moment Damien stepped into the noisy club last night he’d noticed Althea. In a crowd of other women dressed in skimpy skirts and diaphanous tops that left little to the imagination, she alone had caught his eye. Beautiful brown skin, sultry eyes, and a lush, tempting mouth that promised untold pleasures. Just remembering the things she’d done to him with that mouth sent a hard shudder through him.
When their eyes met, the connection between them had been visceral, electric. He’d almost forgotten about his friends waiting for him somewhere inside the nightclub, and even after he was settled at his table, he couldn’t stop looking across the room, looking for her. When she came over and asked him to dance, he felt like he’d just won the lottery. By the time he kissed her halfway through the second song, he was so aroused he actually ached. They couldn’t make it out of the building fast enough.
But as incredible as last night had been, Damien knew it had to be a one-time thing. Between his demanding career and sharing the responsibility of raising an eleven-year-old daughter, he had no room in his life for a relationship. And he preferred it that way. Relationships could be tricky, and although he’d dated frequently in the six years since his divorce, he had yet to meet a woman who made him want to take another trip down the aisle.
Until last night, a voice whispered.
Damien frowned, giving himself a hard mental shake. Nothing had changed for him overnight. After all, he reasoned, if great sex with a beautiful woman was all he needed, he would still be married.
Never mind that he’d felt a powerful connection to Althea that transcended the physical act of sex. And never mind that their lovemaking had been out of this world, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. None of that mattered. He and Althea were two mature, consenting adults who’d enjoyed a mind-blowing night of passion, and although Damien cringed at the term one-night stand, that’s exactly what it had been. A one-night stand. An isolated encounter. When he crept out of her apartment at the crack of dawn that morning, he knew he was doing what they both wanted, what they both expected. No empty promises, no strings, no drama. Hey, he didn’t make the rules of the game; he just followed them.
And if he found himself unable to stop thinking about her, well, he’d just have to deal with it. After all, he told himself, he couldn’t think about her forever.
Comforted by the thought—if not entirely convinced—Damien stepped out of the shower stall and reached for his towel, wrapping it loosely around his waist. As he brushed his teeth, he wiped at the misted mirror, surveyed his reflection, and decided he could go another day without shaving. It was Saturday, and the only people who would see him today were his family and some close friends, who had planned a surprise birthday party for him that he’d accidentally learned about when he overheard his mother whispering on the phone with Imani, his sister-in-law. Damien knew he would have to put on an Oscar-worthy performance when he arrived at his mother’s house that afternoon and all those people jumped out at him yelling “Surprise!”
Chuckling at the thought, he rinsed out his mouth and left the bathroom.
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He pulled up short at the sight of his ex-wife, Angelique Navarro, perched on a corner of his bed, her glossy dark hair swept over one shoulder, her long legs crossed as she leaned back on her elbows, looking as if she had every right to be there.
He frowned at her. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Angelique arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “In your house or in your bedroom?”
“Both.”
Instead of answering, she ran an appreciative eye over his bare chest, where droplets of water still clung to his dark skin. “You always were too damn sexy for your own good, Damien Wade,” she purred.
There was a time that hearing those words from her would have driven Damien wild with lust. If this had been six years ago when they were still married, before things turned sour, he would have dropped his towel where he stood, walked over to her, and stretched her out on the bed, where he would have made love to her long into the afternoon.
But this wasn’t six years ago. Too much had happened since then, too much bad blood now flowed between them. They could never return to the way things used to be, could never reclaim the innocence and blind optimism they’d possessed as infatuated college sweethearts who suddenly found themselves facing parenthood. In the eleven years since India’s birth, they’d gone from being two crazy kids in love to two people who barely tolerated each other.
Which was what made Angelique’s presence in his bedroom so unnerving.
Months before their brief, disastrous marriage had ended they’d stopped sleeping together. Angelique started hanging out at nightclubs with her single friends, leaving Damien and India to fend for themselves at home. Although she’d been smart enough not to get caught, he’d always suspected she was cheating on him. She was a beautiful, desirable woman who turned male heads wherever she went. Her sudden lack of interest in their marriage bed told Damien she was getting what she needed elsewhere. On the few occasions when she did try to sneak into bed with him, he was so angry and disgusted with her behavior he couldn’t even bring himself to touch her. He’d learned the hard way that whenever his selfish, manipulative wife tried to seduce him, she usually wanted something in return.
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