by Shayla Black
doesn’t get nearly enough use. Do you want to bring the girls over tonight? We can swim and order pizza or barbeque. Your choice.”
Damn. Double-damn! Cass loved the pool and did need the practice. But after that awkward kiss, the last thing she needed to do was go to his house and spend the evening staring at Noah’s prime, smoking-hot bod in a bathing suit.
Lauren was heartily glad to be able to truthfully say, “Thanks for the invitation. It’s sweet of you to let my two rascals splash around in your pool. But we can’t.”
“Big plans with Mr. Mysterious?”
She glared. “No. My mom picked up the girls from school today, since I didn’t know how late I’d be working today and she just lives around the corner. They’re going to spend a few days with her. She and Walter just got back from their Caribbean cruise and she said she missed my girls to pieces. I missed her, too, and told her I’d have dinner over there.”
“Maybe another night this week? You name the day.”
The follow-up invitation surprised her. But if the kiss hadn’t ruffled his view of their friendship, she supposed that it shouldn’t change hers, either. It couldn’t. They’d been friends for too long to let this sudden, weird lust come between them.
“Thursday? I’ll be done with my yoga class by 6:30, if that’s not too late.”
“Perfect. It’s a date.”
Date? As in man-woman seeing each other to find out if they’re compatible conversationally…and otherwise?
No. Certainly he didn’t mean it was a date-date. Just that they’d set the date for them to get together. Who took their children on a first date-date? No one. She relaxed.
“Um…yes. See you then.”
“Have fun with Mr. Mysterious tonight.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “I told you, I have no plans to see the man tonight.”
“Given how many roses there were in that bouquet and the note he sent you, I have a hunch he plans to see you. Lots of you.” He grinned. “I hope you’re ready.”
Chapter Six
Dark fell over the April evening when Noah let himself into Lauren’s house. Quiet. Dark. Empty. Exactly as he’d thought; she’d left work and gone straight to see her mother, Walter, and the girls. She’d have dinner there, then maybe stay long enough to help bathe and tuck Emma and Cass into bed.
When she got home, Mr. Mysterious would be waiting for her.
Noah glanced at his watch. Almost nine o’clock. She’d be here soon. He needed to be ready to burrow his way into her body and even deeper into her heart the moment she walked in the door—before she had more time to build up her defenses again.
After today, moving quickly and playing smart were imperative, since he’d made some very interesting observations. First, she was jumpy around him. And the way she’d impulsively kissed him—and lingered over it—before jumping away guiltily…very telling. Her expression when he’d announced his interest in and intent to marry another divorcée had given him broad hints about her feelings, too. Lauren tried to look unaffected, but seeing her face to face, she was as capable of hiding her emotions as she was at suppressing a blush. In other words, not at all.
Putting all those clues together, he’d bet every dollar he had that she was aware of him, not just as a boss or as a pal, but as a man. A definite cause for a rousing hallelujah.
In the not-so-good-news category, though, was having to lie to her about having another woman in his heart. If she feared he’d leave her for some other female, he hated to add to her reasons to avoid him. But perversely, the lie would help her assume she was “safe” from him. She’d let her guard down and continue giving him hints that would help him conquer her. He’d absolve her of the ridiculous notion that he had no sexual or romantic interest in her when the time was right.
But there was more bad news: her adamant declaration that she wasn’t going to fall in love again. She was lying to herself, protecting her heart, and Noah knew it. But convincing her would be one of his biggest challenges in this scheme.
At least Noah understood now exactly why she was resisting him. Every girl he'd ever dated and bedded in his vain attempt to forget Lauren was coming back to haunt him. Damn it to hell. He couldn't change the past, so he had to work with the hand he’d dealt himself. She’d learn that he wouldn’t chase after someone shinier. To him, she was as bright as a thousand suns, and he would do whatever necessary to convince her of his sincerity and love.
With help from Mr. Mysterious.
After hearing her confession that being with her midnight stranger made her feel uncommonly connected to him, Noah had hid his smile—and his killer erection—barely.
But very soon, he’d feel free to grin like an idiot and introduce her to the iron hard-on plaguing him. He’d connect with her in every way he could. Then, when the time was right, he’d tell her that Noah and Mr. Mysterious were one and the same. By then, she’d know they were compatible on every level, and helping her accept the relationship would be a snap.
Locking the door behind him, Noah pulled out a flashlight from the black bag he brought with him and looked around the house. She usually came in through the garage and laundry room into the rest of the house. From there, she could either wind her way to her bedroom via a path to the right of the stairs and through the kitchen, or left of the stairs, through the dining room. Sure, he could wait until she entered the bedroom, but his goal here was to continually surprise her, keep her off balance, always guessing…and panting.
Striding to the laundry room door, he stared at his options, glancing both ways around the stairs in front of him. Dining room, he decided, striding through the formal area and to the front door, where he flipped on the porch lights. Lauren would come this way to investigate once she drove up and saw those lights on.
Decision made, Noah strode back into the shadowed dining room and switched off the flashlight. Darkness closed around him, but he didn’t need much illumination to set his stage. He dropped his bag beside the silk ficus tree in the corner, placed a few necessary goodies in one of the chairs lining the side of the rectangular table, then pulled the head chair two feet away from the table, toward the ficus tree. Then he worked his way into the corner, behind the silk tree and waited.
* * * *
Lauren dropped her keys on the counter in the laundry room and dragged herself a few steps forward. She felt her way out of the room, too tired to care about the dark and too familiar with the house to bother with lights.
A faint cast of moonlight made its way through the kitchen windows, illuminating her stairs. She turned left, frowning. She’d noticed the porch lights on when she’d driven up. Had she left them on last night? Maybe her mother had stopped by with the kids earlier to pick up something they’d forgotten and turned them on.
As if my electric bill isn’t high enough…
As she walked through the dining room, feeling her way through the dark, she reached a hand out to steady herself on the chair at the head of the table.
It wasn’t in its place, but she could make out the outline of it a couple of feet away.
First the porch light was on, and now a chair out of place? Weird. Hardly anyone ever used this room. Were all the weird occurrences her unofficial welcome to the Twilight Zone?
Awareness prickled along her spine suddenly. Lauren swore she could hear someone exhale. Raggedly. Goosebumps raised on her arms, getting bigger as her heart raced faster.
Or was it possible she wasn’t alone? Maybe Mr. Mysterious was here, waiting to make good on his plan to ravish her body once for each bloom in that awesome bouquet she’d received earlier today.
Lauren reached for the chair. “Hello?”
Nothing. But suddenly, she felt him here. Yes, she was tired, and it was possible her imagination was overactive…but she didn’t think so.
Her heart raced like it was the final few feet of a hundred-yard dash. Bracing herself on the chair, she made to walk out of the dining room and into the foyer to
flip on a light. She’d told him to leave Friday night. The man coming back…not a good idea. He would only take her body and mess with her head, if she let him.
She wasn’t about to allow that.
A firm hand clamped around her wrist before she got anywhere near the light switch and pulled, jerking her back against the hot width of his male chest.
Electricity shot down her arm, exploded in her body. She gasped in the darkness. Oh, God. He was back. Here. And given the erect cock prodding her backside, Lauren didn’t have to guess twice what he had in mind.
“Hello, Lauren,” he whispered in her ear. “I told you I’d be back.”
Mr. Mysterious. His sin-infused voice rasped against her senses. Like the devil’s, his voice seemed to say that he’d returned not just to possess her body but to steal her soul. Adrenaline pumped through her and morphed into arousal that snaked through her mercilessly.
His other hand journeyed from her waist up, up—until his palm smoothed over her breast.
“Hard nipples. Nice welcome. For me?”
His touch was like fire. She swallowed against the zip of pleasure slinking up her spine. “Who are you?”
He tsked at her. “We’ve already played that game. Now’s not the time to rehash it again. I’m here to play something far more interesting.”
“But I never got an answer.”
“All in good time.” As if he knew his answer would piss her off, he tempered the words with a seductive caress of his lips over the sensitive crook of her neck. His fingertips skated over her nipples. Her knees buckled.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Her voice shook.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t be here.” He nudged his hard cock against the small of her back. “I should be…”
The hand he’d anchored at her waist dipped south. Lauren’s belly fluttered as his palm glided over her flesh. Heat blossomed inside her as his fingers inched slowly toward the damp, aching spot between her legs.
He covered her mound with his enormous hand. “Here. Right here.”
“No,” she choked past her urge to whimper and beg.
What was it about the man’s touch? Like an electric kaleidoscope of color and sensation. One touch and she could barely remember her own name, much less resist.
“Did you like your roses?” His hushed voice teased, taunted, made her shiver.
“Yes.” She heard the tremble in her voice. “But what you want…it’s not possible.”
His wicked chuckle in her ear sent a shiver through her. He palmed the flat of her belly, bringing her even closer to him. “It’s inevitable.”
Warm, moist lips trailed a path of kisses from her ear down to her shoulder. His hot breath heated her, stirring across her skin. Lauren shivered.
“I love the feel of you trembling for me. I want to feel that tonight as I fuck you.” He nipped on her lobe. “As I make love to you.”
“No,” she protested.
But it was weak. Very weak. Already, his body heat and her memories were combining to crush her resistance. His mouth at her neck drumming up her desires helped to make her self-control look like a tin can freshly crushed for recycling.
“Yes. You’re special. I want to show you that, give you the kind of pleasure you’ve never had.”
“You already have. Friday night was amazing, but—”
“Friday night was just a start. I’m dying to give you more. Everything.”
Lauren exhaled raggedly. Everything? She didn’t doubt he could. If he did, however, she feared her heart and her body wouldn’t be hers anymore by the time he was done.
“I already said no.”
“I respect that word,” he promised. “But not when you’re quivering in my arms and creaming your panties while you say it.”
Damn! He knew she wanted him.
Of course he knew. The man wasn’t an idiot. He was a single-minded, sexually driven god between the sheets. His hard body was well equipped to drive a woman to repeated orgasms.
And you’re resisting…why? her sex drive asked.
Her sex drive was not helping her keep her priorities straight.
“That isn’t the point. I’m not ruled by my panties.”
“Ruled? No. But let’s see if your panties and I can persuade you…”
Before Lauren could breathe or form a coherent answer, Mr. Mysterious had reached beneath her suit skirt and grabbed the panties in question. With a good yank, he ripped them away and tossed them to the ground.
“You don’t wear those again this week, day or night. I want to know that pretty pussy is bare and waiting for me all day.”
“At work—”
“No one at work will know.” He froze. “Unless you plan on showing someone you work with.”
Lauren’s mind flooded with images of Noah—smiling, frowning in thought, shooting her a heated stare. Instead of ramping her desire down, the thought of giving Noah a glimpse of her bare, wet sex made her desire spike fiercely.
“Do you?” he demanded.
“N—no,” she stammered. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to show you.”
“Oh?” He slipped his fingers into her wet slit, right over her clit, and gave a soft slide. “You’re this wet and needy but you plan to ease yourself?”
As if she could… Only he made her ache like this. Damn him.
Even now, those fingers of his, just grazing her clit rhythmically, slowly destroyed her defiance—and sanity. The coil of need wrapped tighter and tighter low in her belly, right between her legs. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
But he knew.
“Don’t hold it in. I want you to tell me how you feel.”
“Stop,” she grated out.
He did, instantly ceasing the lush, leisurely stimulation. But his fingers remained on her hard clit, which pulsed under his touch, silently begging. The ache between her legs became a cramp of pleasure-pain at the sudden deprivation of his strokes.
Nothing in the world could stop the whimper that clawed up her throat and out of her mouth.
“I know,” he murmured gruffly. “I feel you throbbing under my fingers. It’s the same way my cock throbs for you. Want me to make it better, sugar?”
Sugar. Noah called her that. Always had. Mr. Mysterious wasn’t Noah, who was apparently off chasing some divorcée who was too stubborn to see what a prize the man was. But with Mr. Mysterious’s build and deep whisper, there was enough similarity between the two men. She could pretend Noah had his hands on her now, tempting her into the white-hot pleasure that was just a whisper of his fingertips away.
Lauren wrestled with herself. Her body versus her mind. The preservation of her heart against the wailing demands of her clit.
It wasn’t a contest.
“Yes.”
His fingers twitched—just enough to send the ache between her legs skyrocketing for an instant. “You sure?”
“Damn you, do it!”
A slick glide of fingers, a gentle pinch of her clit. She gasped, air burning her throat at the quick intake. Her head fell back against his hard shoulder. She melted into him.
“Do what?” Now his thumb entered the action, brushing right over the exposed bead of her clit. A line of pure fire shot from her sex down her legs, up her spine, to her breasts. Lord, what this man could do to her…
“Make me come. Fuck me.”
“I’m going to make you come. But I won’t fuck you until you’re so wet, your thighs are dripping with cream. And then…I’ll make