Daring in the Dark

by Jennifer Labrecque

  “Don’t even go there.” She leaned over him and scattered kisses over his chest, laving his male nipples, down his belly. She lapped at his rigid length and took him into her warm, eager mouth. Simon called on every ounce of his self-control not to blast off as she fondled him with her mouth. She released him and he managed to breathe again. Her hair brushed against his belly, the strands teasing against his skin. “Actually tasting you, touching you, smelling you, is so much better than it ever was in my dreams,” she said, her tone as hot as the passion glittering in her eyes.

  She fell to her back, spread her legs, and said with a sweet smile, “Now are you going to fuck me or do I have to beg first?”

  It sent him totally over the edge when she said that. If he was any hotter, he’d melt.

  He positioned himself between her legs and nudged at her with his sheathed tip. “No begging necessary.”

  Simon slid into her slowly, totally captured by the expression on her face, heat and pleasure suffusing her features. She felt so good, so right, and as he slid into her inch by inch, she gripped him, as if welcoming him home.

  She wrapped her legs around him and hooked her feet behind his thighs. She lunged up to meet him. A few quick thrusts and they’d both be there. He drew a deep, shuddering breath and deliberately slowed them down. They weren’t going for a distance record—they were both wound too tight, they didn’t have a prayer of making it far—but he pulled back slowly until he was almost out of her and then treated them both to a slow reentry. Tawny gasped aloud and pushed into him, sending him plunging.

  “You are deliciously wicked, Simon Thackeray.”

  Her honeyed Southern drawl wrapping around his name at the same time her honeyed channel wrapped around his cock nearly undid him. It was as if she’d woven some magic around them, bound them together in a union that went beyond the physical. As if she’d opened up a part of herself and invited him into the warmth and light that was more than skin-deep with her.

  She was so open, so giving, and he wanted to give in return. He offered as much of himself as he could. He rode her harder and faster. Her head whipped back and forth on the bed, her hands fisted in the comforter and she urged him on until they were both caught up in the throes of a screaming orgasm—literally.

  His Tawny was no wilting flower. She was bold and beautiful, and if he’d ever had a moment’s hesitation that he might be standing in for Elliott, she dispelled that particular notion as she panted his name over and over as she shuddered beneath him.

  Had she screamed Elliott’s name the same way? Had she thrashed beneath him and arched into him as if she’d die without his touch? He absolutely didn’t need to go there, yet he absolutely couldn’t help himself.

  She lay so still beneath him, her eyes closed, that if she hadn’t been breathing heavily he might’ve thought her asleep. A slow smile bloomed on her generous mouth and she opened her eyes.

  “That was…incredible…so much better than I ever dreamed it.”

  A strange sensation filled him. It took a moment for Simon to recognize it was contentment—utter bloody contentment. He answered her smile with one of his own. He didn’t think he could not smile at this point, it was a totally involuntary reaction.

  “Absolutely.” And then because he wanted to share what he felt but had no clue how to say it, he kissed her, slowly, tenderly, an aftermath of passion.

  He traced the curve of her side, his fingers molding against the softness of her skin. He had been painfully honest earlier—now that he was touching her he wasn’t sure he could stop. Intellectually he knew skin was skin, an amalgamation of tissue and nerves and cells, but she felt like no other woman beneath his fingertips. He was so absolutely in love with her, loved her so completely, his whole being ached with it.

  He lifted his head and looked at her. He dared so much more in the dark. Hiding in the shadows cast by the candlelight, he drank her in. Her hair spread in disarray across the bed, her eyes dark and mysterious, her lips swollen from his kisses, her body relaxed from his lovemaking. Without thought, he ran his fingers along the delicate line of her jaw, breathed in her fragrance. She captured his hand in hers, brought his fingers to her lips and feathered the lightest caress across them.

  “Simon…” She hesitated.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—” she glanced away “—but I…I’m not sure how to say this.”

  His heart, not fully recovered from their sexual calisthenics, began to pound again. “Just say it.”

  He was too raw and open to quell the surge of hope that she might profess newfound feelings for him.

  “I…we…oh, this is so awkward….”

  He could barely breathe. Had she discovered, in the aftermath of making love—and that’s what it’d been for him—deeper feelings for him?

  “What, luv?” Endearments had never been a part of his vocabulary. They’d never been given as a child and he’d never cultivated them as an adult, but this one rolled off his tongue.

  “I’m sweaty and sticky and I’m afraid I, well, stink. I need a shower.”

  Righto. He laughed at himself, at how off the mark he’d been. His brain must’ve still been centered in his willy. God knows, he knew he wasn’t the most lovable guy on the planet. Not even his parents had ever loved him. That wasn’t exactly the heartfelt declaration he’d built himself up for but she was right—they were both slick with sweat and although he might be a fool, he wasn’t fool enough to turn down an opportunity tonight. “Need a back washer?”

  7

  “COME ON IN. THE WATER’S fine,” Tawny said. She leaned back, welcoming the kiss of cool, smooth porcelain against her back.

  “Give me a second.” He strode out of the bathroom.They might be here through force of circumstance, but it was very romantic with candles bathing the room in soft light and contrasting shadows. She’d placed votives in saucers on the floor around the tub. Nothing quite like being inventive.

  The candlelight lent a dreamlike air. But it was more than that. The entire night was surreal. Simon Thackeray was about to climb into a bath with her after they’d just had fantastic sex that had been both tender and explosive. She’d discovered a consideration behind Simon’s reserve she’d never anticipated, a quality that had never been part of her dreams yet had engaged her beyond the mere physical.

  Simon returned, his camera slung around his neck. He should’ve looked sort of silly wearing only a camera, but there was nothing remotely silly about Simon naked. Impressive. Sexy. Drool-inducing. Heat flushed her body, regardless of the tepid water surrounding her. Nice—that was such an insipid word—muscular legs, nice package up front, totally nice ass. Wow.

  Click.

  She laughed. “Did you just take a picture of me ogling you from the bath?”

  “Absolutely. Very sexy.”

  And there was a bonus to carrying on a conversation with a naked man. When he told you he found something sexy, well, you got visual proof to back up his statement. Simon wasn’t lying—it looked as if he found her very sexy indeed.

  “I’m not actually naked in the picture, am I?”

  He grinned. “No. At this angle and with the water at that level, you can’t actually see details—which is something of a shame since you possess very nice details.”

  “Careful, sir. You’ll make me swoon,” she teased in an exaggerated Southern drawl. Beneath Simon’s sober exterior beat the heart of a flirt, and it was all the more potent because he didn’t flirt indiscriminately the way some men did. She’d never seen this flirtatious side of him, even when she and Elliott had double-dated with him. Elliott. She didn’t remotely want to dedicate a brain cell to Elliott at this moment.

  “What do you think will happen when I get in the tub with you, Tawny?”

  He was a devil to tease her in that low, suggestive tone.

  “Keep talking that way and it’ll be your own fault if the water’s heated up by the time you get here,” she
said.

  Simon laughed and kept firing off pictures. Tawny had lost her self-consciousness in front of the camera. She simply ignored it and flirted with Simon.

  “You’re blowing your chance at cool and refreshing.”

  “Wet and warm sounds even better,” he said.

  “Getting warmer by the minute. Why don’t you come on over and find out just how wet and hot it is?” She sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Don’t forget, you promised me a back wash.”

  “I plan to fulfill that promise thoroughly in just a minute. That’s a great angle. Hold it for me.”

  At one time she might’ve been impatient, but she knew Simon would join her sooner or later. She eyed his smooth, firm erection—sooner from the looks of things. Anticipation hummed through her and she smiled her anticipation at him.

  “Beautiful…oh, that’s brilliant,” he said, shooting photo after photo.

  “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she teased, however a part of her rebelled at being just another photograph in a long line.

  “I do say that to all the girls.” The bottom dropped out of her stomach. That was not what she wanted to hear. He looked around the camera and grinned at her. He appeared young and carefree, which were two words she’d never thought to associate with Simon. Her heart did a funny flip-flop. “But I don’t climb into a bath with them afterward.”

  Rat bastard. “I’m sure it’s not for lack of opportunity,” she said.

  “Thanks…I think.” He almost looked embarrassed. “I’ve had a fair share of invitations.”

  No stinking kidding. He was gorgeous and sexy. The heat inside her grew hotter still—he wanted to climb in the tub with her, Tawny Edwards, as opposed to Chloe and the other exquisite, thin women he photographed. Of course, there was the matter of his dream woman, the unavailable, but Tawny wouldn’t think about that because right now he was naked and here with her. Carpe diem.

  “It’s time to put the camera down, Simon.”

  He quirked his brows at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Do you think I’m just a puppet to be controlled? Are you always so bossy?”

  She was. She knew it. “Only when I want something really bad.”

  “And I’m really bad?” His wicked sexy grin set her pulse fluttering.

  “That’s totally a matter of perspective. It’s been my experience that you’re especially good when you’re really bad. And I can promise you I want you that way.”

  He placed the camera next to the wall. Anticipation notched tighter inside her as he crossed the small area. Once he lost the camera he carried himself with a measure of self-consciousness he hadn’t had before. She found it endearing that despite his arrogance, he didn’t strut around as if he and his dick were God’s gift to womankind.

  She’d had all those hot dreams about him, so the great sex was…well, great but no real surprise. But she hadn’t anticipated actually liking him. And she did. He was tender and funny and sexy and… He stepped into the tub behind her and shot her train of thought to hell.

  He sat down, sliding his legs on either side of her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the V of his body, as if it had been custom designed just for her. Her back curved against his belly and his chest, her head resting between his shoulder and his neck.

  Despite their earlier flirtatious patter, Simon seemed equally content to enjoy the moment. She closed her eyes and absorbed the sensations. The rhythm of his heartbeat echoed against her back, his arms were strong yet tender around her. She’d had a boyfriend once who, when he’d put his arms around her, it had been like being locked in a vise grip. Eddie could take a lesson or two from Simon, who definitely knew how to hold a woman. He smelled enticingly of sex, sweat and his own scent.

  Candlelight danced across the walls and ceiling. She was living one of those perfect, wildly romantic moments portrayed in movies and glossy magazines. She sighed, happy to be here, in this moment, now.

  “Comfy?” he asked.

  “Mmm. Very. You make a nice bath pillow.”

  “Great. Now I’ve gone from puppet to pillow,” he groused.

  Tawny smiled and pressed a kiss to his bicep. “But you’re a very sexy bath pillow.” Never had her dreams been this good. She was at the head of the line when it came to appreciating great sex, but there was also much to recommend this lazy, comfortable teasing with an undercurrent of anticipation.

  He nuzzled his lips against her hair and Tawny could have sworn warm butter replaced all the bones in her body. She melted against him.

  “There’s a place near my grandparents’ farm that my cousin Reg and I used to go to. There’s a pool in the middle of the woods with a small waterfall. The pool’s shallow enough that the sun heats the water. You can stretch out and sun on this huge flat rock. The water’s clear and the air’s sweet. When we were young, we thought fairies lived there.”

  He’d painted such a picture, she could see the place. She also saw a young, intense Simon looking for fairies. A warmth that had nothing to do with physical desire filled her. She knew from the amount of time she’d spent with him and through the things Elliott had divulged about Simon that he was an intensely private man. Maybe it was just the craziness of the night or the unusual circumstances, but she was certain he’d just shared a part of himself few had been privy to before her. And the notion of a young, romantic boy who believed in fairies didn’t surprise her nearly as much as it would have at one time. He was a complex, complicated man. She’d wanted him in her bed, but now she found she wanted to know more about the man himself.

  “It sounds lovely.”

  “It is. You’d like it.”

  “I’m sure I would.” Take me there. The idea sneak-attacked her. “Do you go to England often?”

  “I used to go once a year in the summer. Now I get over a couple of times a year. My father’s parents died several years ago. My mother’s parents still live in Devon. They’re amazing. They’re in their mid-eighties and they still keep a small farm going.”

  “You’re close to them?” She’d only ever known her paternal grandparents, and they were even more starched and conservative than her father.

  “As close as you can be with an ocean separating you. I spent glorious summers there when I was growing up.” She heard his smile.

  “Do you go with your parents?”

  “No.” The sudden chill in his tone was a stark contrast to his earlier warmth. His body tensed against her back, his arms tightened slightly. She intensely disliked Simon’s parents even though she’d never met them. By virtue of how little he said, she had a pretty clear picture of two self-absorbed, self-important people who didn’t make time for their son. She might be the odd man out in her family, but she still knew they loved her even though they often disapproved of her.

  “I can’t imagine you on a farm.” She deliberately interjected a light, teasing note.

  “I’ll have you know I’m quite proficient at gathering eggs and milking a cow.”

  “No way. That I’d like to see.” Despite her teasing, it was true. She’d like to see Simon unplugged. “Did you have a girlfriend there?”

  “No.”

  “What’s wrong with the girls in England? I can’t believe you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Devon’s not exactly a metropolis like New York or London.”

  “Are you telling me the countryside was totally devoid of young women? You never wowed a milkmaid one farm over with your egg-gathering technique?”

  Simon chuckled, but it sounded forced. “There was one girl…her father was the vicar.”

  Sometimes he wasn’t the most forthcoming with info. Fortunately Tawny didn’t mind asking questions. “How British…the vicar’s daughter. And her name was…?”

  “Jillian. Jillian Carruthers.”

  “And what ever happened to Jillian Carruthers? Or do you still see her when you go to England?”

  “I do still see Jillian, almost every trip.”
<
br />   “Oh.” Oh. Crud. Suddenly her teasing and Jillian weren’t quite so funny. In fact, Tawny felt sort of nauseous.

  “She married my cousin Reg. They’re expecting twins this fall.”

  “Oh.” Surely that hadn’t been pleasant to have his love interest marry his cousin. Was Jillian his unattainable woman? Yet, Simon had said his unattainable woman wasn’t married. Tawny knew she was an evil bitch to feel so relieved Jillian was safely out of the picture. “Is it awkward when you see them?”

  “Not at all. That was a long time ago.”

  She stroked her thumb over his arm, feeling the play of muscle beneath skin. “Did you ever tell her how you felt?”

  “I did, in fact. But by the end of the summer, she decided I wasn’t her cup of tea. She and Reg became an item and that was that.”

  Hmm. And there was more there than he was letting on. His tone was light and nonchalant, but she felt the tension in his body. “Were you devastated?”

  “Only for a bit. They’re well-suited. It worked out that way for a reason. Life has a way of doing that.”

  She didn’t want him to retreat due to a memory of a lost love. She deliberately brought the conversation back to them. “I for one am glad it worked out that way because otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. Jillian has no idea what she’s missing.” She wriggled, pressing her buttocks against him, a not-so-subtle reminder of where he was, who he was with, and the direction things were headed. “I think you’re lots of fun.”

  “Do you now?” He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, seeming to inherently know her most sensitive spot. He laughed softly at her intake of breath and the shiver she had no hope of hiding.

  “Yes,” she said. His teeth raked lightly against her shoulder and she shuddered at the exquisite sensation. “And I’m particularly fond of that kind of fun.”

  “I’m just getting started with the fun. I owe you a back wash.” He released her and she passed him the soap. “Lean forward a bit.”