The Yearning

by Tina Donahue

  “I don’t mind at all.” Deepening attraction sparkled in his eyes. “I’m Seminole on my mother’s side. English and a bit of Irish on my father’s. So how about you? What’s your heritage?”

  “I’m a mixture of a lot of stuff.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Too many nationalities to count. Do your parents and siblings live in the Keys?”

  “My parents and siblings?”

  She realized how stupid the question sounded, but she had to know if anyone would miss him. For days, she and her sisters had discussed keeping a man prisoner at their house, a safer means of appeasing her cravings than frequenting bars and clubs. A crazy, desperate plan Jasmine still wasn’t certain she could go through with. “I’m interested, okay?”

  He appeared to be mulling over his response as he put his bottle on the bar. “I’m going to tell you a secret, but I need your word first that you’ll keep it.”

  Her heart stuttered. What did he intend to confess? “Of course.”

  Misgiving rose in his eyes. He drew in a ragged breath. “There are no siblings. My parents didn’t have any kids after me. Could be I was so wonderful they didn’t think they could get that lucky again, or I was such a disappointment they were afraid to try.”

  She laughed and scolded. “You are putting me on.”

  “Only a little.” He returned her smile. “But if you must know, Dad lived in the Keys all his life. He passed two years ago from emphysema. Smoked three packs a day right up to his last hacking breath. A few months later, Mom moved to Georgia to live with her twin sister. From what I’ve heard, they still fight every day. Now, no more questions about me. I want to hear about you.”

  Steeled for the inevitable, Jasmine nodded, knowing she’d have to lie, hoping she could pull it off. “What do you want to know?”

  “Do you like to dance?”

  Her stomach unknotted. Looking over, she saw the band returning, urged on by the unruly crowd. The first husky notes of the sax quieted the audience. At their table, Violet and Lily watched with increasing anxiety. Jasmine smoothed her hair, the signal they’d agreed on, telling them this man appeared safe. She smiled at Mike, liking and trusting him already, hoping it wasn’t misplaced. “Yes, I do. But I have to confess, I don’t know any fancy steps.”

  “Those are the worst kind. So, we’ll keep it simple.” He pushed off his stool and offered his hand.

  A jolt of warmth from his touch relieved her doubt. She put her purse’s dainty chain on her shoulder and slid her fingers over his.

  On the bluesy strains of the song, Mike wound his arms around Jasmine’s waist, drawing her into him.

  She ran her hands up his shoulders, her fingers caressing his nape, her ripe breasts and peaked nipples nestling against the solid planes of his chest.

  His lids slipped down on a hard sigh as her succulent body tormented him. He hadn’t had sex in months. He’d never been the type of man to have a devoted girlfriend, which kept his private life uncomplicated and left all the trouble for work.

  On the next easy sway, Jasmine tugged the leather cord tying his hair and worked her fingers through the freed strands to stroke his scalp.

  Liquid heat oiled his body, loosening his shoulders and limbs. Grunting in approval, he eased her into his stiffened cock and buried his face in her shoulder-length mane. Her delicate perfume reminded him of a garden’s subtle aromas beneath the morning sun. He found it unbelievably provocative, even though it didn’t match the rest of her packaging.

  She’d dressed for sex tonight, and yet beneath her smoldering gaze he’d caught unexpected vulnerability, perhaps fear. It convinced him she wasn’t a pricey call girl. So given her obvious angst, why was she doing this? Because she craved excitement and wanted to fuck someone outside her ordinary world? With minimum risk, of course. That had to be her reason for asking so many questions and dodging all of his. She was checking him out to make certain he posed no threat to her physically and that their bed-play would be shameless fun, not dangerous.

  The singer reached a high note, holding it. The sax wailed in the background. Applause and appreciative whistles erupted from the audience.

  Mike turned until he and Jasmine completed a half-circle. At the basic move, her breath spilled out in what sounded like wonder, telling him tonight might be her first foray into the club scene and casual sex. Despite her suggestive attire, she seemed as out of place here as some of his witnesses had in their new lives under his protection.

  Individuals he had saved, but at what cost?

  He frowned at his memories of a past he never discussed with anyone. So why had he told her about being with the service? Because he wanted her to trust him? A stupid decision. It made her too curious.

  Did someone try to kill you? she’d asked.

  Once more, unwanted images flashed through his brain, brutal and accusing. The bullet meant for his witness, hitting him instead. Staggering back in shock and falling to the ground. The gangbanger’s remorseless stare as he pointed his .357, intending to finish him off. The endless seconds as he expected death. Everything going too fast or too slow, robbing him of the ability to think, but not to react.

  Instinctively, he had used his power to push the gangbanger’s gun aside with the bullet striking and killing Tommy, his friend and partner of four years. Like a fucking coward, he’d saved himself with his telekinetic gift, an unwanted talent he’d kept hidden from others. Since Tommy, it lay dormant. Never again would he call on it or work for the service. A week after the assault, he’d resigned over his superiors’ objections.

  Frowning, he shook off his memories. Tonight, guilt wouldn’t deny him what enjoyment and comfort Jasmine could bring.

  He turned her in another tight circle. She lowered her mouth to his neck. Her tongue found his galloping pulse, wandering over it, loving it as she drove her slender fingers through his hair.

  His rod thickened in gratitude, prompting a pleased growl. Whatever reservations she’d had about him seemed to have passed. Raising his hands, he cradled the sides of her head, his fingers sinking into her lush hair. He stopped dancing and eased back. Her blue-green eyes blurred with expectation. Moisture sparkled on her plump lower lip. His hoarse voice betrayed the hold she had on him. “I want to know about you.”

  Her lids slid down. Long, dark lashes rested on her cheeks. Taking a full breath, she opened her eyes slowly. Her gaze beckoned. She asked again, “What do you want to know?”

  In answer, he slanted his mouth over hers. His tongue burrowed inside. Sheltering heat greeted him, along with the taste of beer and female submission. It took all of his will not to moan like an oversexed teen.

  Around them, couples continued to dance, their lethargic steps complementing the club’s surreal lighting and haunting music. The singer’s sad voice rode the keyboard’s muted melody, inviting closeness.

  Mike accepted. His exploring kiss was unhurried. He relished the sharp feel of Jasmine’s bottom teeth, the inside of her satiny cheeks. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his back.

  Palms flattened, she pulled him closer so he couldn’t escape.

  He wasn’t about to try. To prove it, he angled his mouth for heightened penetration.

  Following his lead, her lips parted even more. She alternately suckled and curled her tongue around his, offering a raw, unguarded response.

  His reserve broke. He deepened their kiss, his passion savage, relentless. The other sounds drifted away. He became conscious of her strained breathing and his. Their chests knocked into each other’s. Cupping the back of her head in his palm, he slipped his other arm around her waist, his fingers dangling above her cushiony buttocks.

  She yielded, her body willing against his, her reaction undeniable.

  It made him even greedier. Seconds trickled by. His thoughts muddied, not allowing anything to register except the tight, wet sanctuary of her mouth, the aching solace of her body, each supple curve and rounded swell. He didn’t know how long he was lost in their kiss, bu
t when he finally pulled his mouth free, the music faded.

  Chest heaving, he stared. Her features were more elegant than he first thought, her almond eyes, straight nose and full mouth finely shaped beneath the skillfully applied makeup. Longing softened her face, along with the same vulnerability, stirring him as few things had. He wanted to strip her of the unnecessary cosmetics, the titillating clothes, to see and to know the real woman beneath.

  The applause subsided. Several couples left the dance floor, arms slipped around each other’s waists. As the band began their new piece, the keyboardist ran her fingers up and down her instrument, setting the mood.

  Jasmine’s gaze remained on him, absorbed, as if everyone else had left. “Do you have to leave?”

  Even if he did, the disappointment in her voice would have persuaded him to stay and promise more than he could ever deliver. He shook his head.

  She watched the ends of his hair glide over his shoulders. “Then you don’t have to work early tomorrow?”

  Unlike her last questions, he welcomed these. They told him what she wanted, but hadn’t yet asked. “I don’t have anything planned for the next couple of days or nights.” He touched his mouth to her ear. Trembling, she moved into him. Wrapped in her oddly innocent temptation, he murmured, “How about you? Do you have to work early tomorrow?”

  Her hand went to his right pec, branding it with her heat. Several of his muscles leapt, liking it.

  “No.” She paused to clear her throat. Her voice remained gravelly. “I’m on vacation this week.”

  Hearing the invitation in her words, he straightened.

  She trailed a tapered nail down his torso to his belt, circling the buckle as she tilted her face to his. Sin filled her eyes.

  Resolved to give her what she’d come for and what he now demanded, he took her hand and led her from the dance floor toward the back exit.

  Chapter Two

  Desire compelled Jasmine forward even as a thread of panic stole up her spine. Had Violet and Lily seen them leave the floor? If not, how long would it be before they noticed? Where was he taking her?

  His earlier comment nagged. He didn’t have anything planned for the next couple of days or nights.

  Jasmine forced down a swallow. She’d asked about work to learn if he’d be missed immediately. Too easily, he told her he would not. Her sisters would be pleased if she lured him to their house tonight. If not, where would she end up?

  Dizzy with ambivalence, she allowed him to lead her past the restrooms and a small, cluttered office. He paused at the opened back door where two club employees enjoyed a smoke and shared laughter. The young men cast them a look, then exchanged knowing glances. Sly smiles plumped their youthful cheeks as they discarded their cigarettes and moved past, returning to their jobs.

  Mike brought her outside. Late-summer air, humid and heavy with the ocean’s tang, enveloped her. The dimly lit alley stretched the length of this establishment and the other businesses. Her heart jumped at the metallic clack of the door closing. She heard traffic whooshing by on the next street. Faint music pumped from the club. Laughter floated on the gentle breeze, coming from an unknown place, since she and Mike were the only ones around. She asked, “Why are we back here?”

  His mouth captured hers. Her apprehension fell away, turning into stark need. She tried to slip her arm over his shoulder. He stopped her, taking her wrist and tearing his mouth free. “Not here.”

  Her heels clicked on the asphalt as he led her to the adjacent building, set back from the club and closed for the night. He stopped next to a door stenciled with fading white letters stating: Delivery Only. If the same young men or others came outside for a smoke, they wouldn’t see her or him.

  Without warning, images of Travis sped through her mind. Him ordering her to undress in the secluded apartment above his shop. Her wrists and ankles lashed to his bed. His frightening smile.

  Jasmine’s heart crashed into her chest. She looked at Mike, her emotions torn between worry and craving.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said, reading her fear. Holding her face gently, he studied her, his dark eyes concerned. “Have you been raped?”

  It never got that far. Her sisters had arrived and—she shook her head, not wanting to think about it. “No.”

  “But someone hurt you.”

  Her mind saw the belt in Travis’s hand. She recalled its whistle as it hit the air. “He tried. I got away.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  She lied. “Yes.” Her voice sounded strange, strangled as she next offered the truth. “He seemed fine at first. I didn’t know he was doing meth and that he’d injured another woman. He got crazy and—” She couldn’t continue.

  Mike’s thumbs skimmed her jawline, stoking her pulse, making her limp and restless for more.

  “Why did you choose me tonight?” he asked.

  Her smile wobbled, feeling weird. “Like I said before, I liked the way you handled that young woman. You were the perfect gentleman.”

  “That may be, but I wasn’t the only one showing restraint. The bouncer was a regular sweetheart.”

  Her smile widened. “I’m sure he’s a nice guy and really I don’t want to sound unkind, but he’s not you. Haven’t you seen yourself in a mirror recently?” She could scarcely hold back her wonder. “You’re freaking awesome.”

  He barked a laugh. “Bullshit.”

  “You are.” She touched his bottom lip with her fingers, breathless at its silkiness. Her words rushed out. “I spotted you the moment I reached the dance floor. It pissed me off when the redhead got to you first. The server told me there were a dozen other women interested in you. Could be she was lying. It might have been more. That’s why I sent you the beer. It was the only way I knew to get you to notice me.”

  His eyes rounded in amazement. “You wouldn’t be putting me on now, would you?”

  She reached for her purse. “I have a mirror. You really should look at your—”

  “Fuck that.” He lowered his head and captured her mouth.

  An indecent grunt tore from the back of her throat. Lips parting, she accepted his tongue, needing its wet warmth more than she required oxygen or food. She tasted a hint of the beer he’d drank, along with his flavor, which spoke of cleanliness and good health. His chin and upper lip rasped hers with his beginning stubble.

  She wound her arms around him. Eager to touch, her hands moved up and down his muscled back.

  He ground his lean hips into her mound, taunting her with his imposing cock. Her pussy clenched, bidding him inside. Unaware, he trailed his fingers over her cheek, sending tingles to her temple. His hand ventured lower, past the line of her jaw and throat to the edge of her halter. He hesitated, interpreting her reaction, before he slipped his fingers inside, his palm clothing her naked breast, his heat searing it. She edged nearer, her knees knocking his, telling him she craved all he had to give. Assured, he squeezed her flesh hungrily.

  It wasn’t enough.

  With his superior height and weight, he backed her into the building. Shoulders pressing the weathered wood, she moaned. His tongue invaded deeper, while his other hand explored.

  Bunching her skirt in his fist, he lifted the gauzy fabric, exposing her to the night air. Its sultry breath licked the moisture bathing her opening. The side of his hand grazed her, moving from her navel to her mound.

  There, he stopped, most likely surprised. He broke the kiss, stepped back and whispered, “My God.”

  Mike dropped to one knee in front of her and looked up.

  Silken waves the color of cocoa framed her face. Her graceful nostrils flared. She searched his eyes, no doubt gauging what lay beneath his shock.

  He found it difficult to breathe or think. She wasn’t wearing panties. Even more amazing was what she did wear—a silvery belly chain and navel ring with tiny diamonds in an ornate design that dangled over her slightly rounded stomach. The gems winked in the scant light, trailing beads of brightness to her shaved pu
bes.

  Jasmine’s feminine folds were slick with womanly moisture, plump and impatient. In spite of her bad experience with the fucker she’d dated, she hadn’t given up on men. She wanted him. Equally important, she trusted him.

  His cock hardened painfully, insistent on entry. Eyes closed, he touched his mouth to her smooth mound, enthralled by the exposed skin. His tongue snaked over it.

  She gasped and parted her legs, enticing him further.

  Her real scent, earthy and feminine, wafted up, stealing what remained of his admired restraint. “Grab the ends of your skirt on each side.” He had to taste her.

  Obedient, she gathered the fabric in her hands and pulled it to her waist.

  He pushed her wrists into the building, holding them captive as he examined her. The murky light didn’t hide her engorged clit, blushing dark above her cleft. He’d seen few things more beautiful. Tongue poised, he flicked it over her erect nub.

  She moaned brazenly, her thigh muscles tensing. As cautious as she’d been, now she became wild, twisting her hips to bring her mound closer to his mouth, begging for relief. Mike wasn’t about to give it so easily. By dragging this out in a public place, where someone might discover them, he’d added to the allure. Like most women, she wanted simulated danger.

  A riot of sounds filled the steamy night—the rumble of passing cars, a horn blaring with its shriek weakened by distance, snatches of voices carried on the muggy wind, Jasmine’s mewl in response to his mouth embracing her defenseless sex.

  His tongue probed her inner recesses, lapping her salty dew, indulging his appetite, while ignoring hers. She bent her knees to force his tongue nearer her clit. He used more pressure on her wrists, wordlessly commanding her to follow his lead. To wait for what he would offer.

  “Please,” she groaned in a guttural voice.

  Resting his forehead on her belly, he breathed heavily, refusing to relent. “Straighten your knees.”

  The back of her head hit the building with a tiny, frustrated whack. Her wrists flexed within his grasp as she clenched her fists. Each panting gasp quivered her sweet little tummy. Finally, her knees straightened.