Tantalizing Maria

by HELEN HARDT

  “Ah!” She kept her voice low, but his fingers on her nipple felt so good. So right.

  “Can you take this off, baby?” Jeff said, but didn’t wait for her reply. He glided the material over her torso and head and set it down on the floor next to the bed.

  Now naked from the waist up, Maria gazed down at her chest. Her breasts were swollen and rosy, and her nipples stood out like two pencil erasers.

  “You’re beautiful, Mia, just beautiful.” He bent and took a nipple into his mouth.

  Maria died a little just then. How else could she explain the heaven she felt? He clamped his lips onto her, first teasing, and then sucking, and then he bit her ever so lightly. And she found she wanted more.

  “Harder. Bite me harder.”

  Had she just uttered those words? When he complied, a bolt of lightning hit her clit. Was it possible to climax like this? Probably not, but it was heavenly all the same.

  Jeff continued nibbling on her nipple while he tormented the other one with his fingers. He flicked it, twisted it lightly, and then, just as he bit down on the other, he pinched it.

  And again the lightning bolt. Although she was sitting, her hips longed to move. She wanted to arch, to thrust, to find his hard cock and impale herself on it—all from just a little breast play.

  But Jeff wasn’t done with her chest. He cupped both breasts and toyed with the nipples while he glided his lips over the swells of her flesh. He murmured against her how beautiful she was, how hot she made him. How much he wanted her.

  “I want you too,” she said, her voice breathy. “I want you so much.”

  He finally lifted his head, still twisting her nipples with his fingers. She squirmed. Staying still was impossible. Her hips needed to move. That empty place inside her needed filling. By him.

  He moved one hand from her nipple and slid it down her side to her panties. He eased them off. She helped him, squirming out of them and kicking them to the other side of the room. He touched her between the legs and she nearly exploded.

  “You’re wet, Mia.”

  God, yes. She was sure she must be dripping, she was so turned on.

  He slid one finger inside her. So sweet. So good. He added another and moved them around, finding a spot that made her want to cry out. But she held it in. She couldn’t risk waking Meghan. And she didn’t want any of this to stop.

  He continued working her with his fingers, his other hand still pinching her nipple. How much more torture could she take? He kissed her lips, her cheek, her neck, and then whispered in her ear, “Lie back. I want to eat you.”

  Eat. She’d heard that term. Hadn’t actually heard anyone say it though. It was crass. It was sexy. It made her feel…sexy.

  She lay back and whimpered a little when his fingers left her nipple. But oh, she’d like what was coming. She knew it instinctively. His lips clamped onto her clit while his fingers still slid slowly in and out of her. He sucked on her tight bud, and she grasped the sheets in her fists and bit down on her lip to keep from screaming his name.

  But she couldn’t keep totally quiet. She said softly, “Jeff, Jeff. It feels so good.”

  His groan vibrated against her wet folds. He turned his head and sucked on the delicate skin of her inner thigh. That alone nearly sent her through the roof. And when he returned his mouth to her clit, it happened.

  Sky rockets. She thrashed, she gasped, she clung to the sheets with her fists.

  From somewhere, Jeff said, “Shh…”

  When she came down from her high, he was still fingering her—slowly, slowly—until he slid both fingers out of her.

  He came forward and kissed her, deep. “Taste yourself, Mia. Taste yourself on me.”

  What a heady sensation. She kissed him back, taking all of him in. When she finally broke the kiss to take a breath, she realized he was still fully clothed.

  She should be embarrassed. But she wasn’t. Not at all. One thing was for sure, though. He needed to get naked.

  She tugged at his shirt. He got the message and rose. He shed his shirt, boots, and jeans. Only his boxers remained, his cock tenting them. Slowly he slid them over his hips, and they puddled to the floor. He grabbed a condom out of his jeans pocket and quickly sheathed himself.

  “Please, Jeff.” She wanted him inside her so badly. “Now.”

  He wasn’t slow this time. Didn’t take his time. He lay down on top of her and thrust into her.

  Though she had been sore earlier, she felt no pain. Just some exquisite stretching that made her feel complete. She nuzzled into his neck to muffle her sounds. His masculine musky smell only added to her euphoria. In. Out. In. Out. Had anything ever felt so good?

  “Mia,” he whispered against her, “I’m sorry. I can’t last much longer.”

  He plunged into her deeply and grunted. When his pelvic bone hit her clit, she went over the precipice again. She sobbed into his neck, her words muffled, as the release took her.

  Heaven, such heaven. For one fearful moment, she wondered if she’d ever feel like this again—this pure joy at joining with another human being. She erased the thought from her mind and flew.

  She never wanted to let him go.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jeff sighed, lying in bed. He’d made a huge mess of things with Mia last night. His body weighed him down like an anvil. He didn’t want to move.

  Until he heard his doorbell.

  Probably Harper, wondering where the hell he was this morning. His nephew sure was an early riser. Jeff admired the man. He had a true work ethic. Normally Jeff was right along with him, but this morning he couldn’t move.

  He’d make it up to Harper. But today he couldn’t work. He reached to the nightstand for his cell to give Harper a call and let him know he wouldn’t be working today.

  Before he could punch in the numbers, his bedroom door opened. Mia stood there, a tray in her hands.

  “Good morning,” she said. “I thought I’d bring you breakfast today.”

  He was caught between elation to see her and anger that she’d barged in. Yeah, she was the owner and she had a key, but Christ. Wasn’t he entitled to a little privacy?

  “Mia—”

  “I know. I know. I shouldn’t have walked right in. But when you didn’t come to the door, I got worried.”

  “You should have assumed I was working. I should have been up hours ago.”

  “Harp told me you didn’t show up today. I told him you weren’t feeling well. I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds.”

  “Overstep your bounds? Christ, yes, Mia, you overstepped your bounds. You’ve been overstepping your bounds since I got here. I was just about to call Harper. I would have looked like a damn fool.”

  Her face fell. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. He could bear anything but that, her sadness. “No, no. It’s okay.” He swung his feet over the side of his bed. He was dressed only in boxers, but why stand on ceremony? They’d bared all to each other last night. And as much as he wished it weren’t, her face was a welcome sight. “I’d be happy to have breakfast with you.”

  Her smile lit her beautiful features. “Wonderful. I’ll set it up at the kitchen table.”

  “Okay. I’ll only be a minute.” He went to the bathroom and took care of business, brushed his teeth, and ran his fingers though his unruly hair. Well, what you see is what you get. He pulled a pair of jeans over his boxers. Didn’t bother with a shirt. The autumn air was fresh and warm.

  He studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror. A few lines creased his forehead and the outer edges of his eyes, and silver highlighted his dark hair. His shoulders were still broad and his arms still muscular, and thanks to the hard work on the farm—and admittedly, in the big house—he still had hard pecs and abs. Not bad for his age. Not bad at all.

  But damn, he felt like a shithead. He’d walked out on Mia last night, and he hadn’t given her any clue why. How could he? She’d never understand. Hell, he didn’t understand half of it hi
mself.

  No. That was a goddamned lie. He understood all too well. He’d never be whole again.

  He sighed and walked out to the kitchen. Mia was dressed in denim capri pants and a pink blouse that highlighted her olive skin. She looked beautiful, of course. What had he expected?

  She was setting out fresh biscuits and honey. “I’m warming the frittata in the microwave. It’ll be done—”

  The bell on the microwave dinged.

  “—now.” She pulled a plate of eggs out.

  Jeff inhaled. Mmm. Smelled like ham and mushroom. His stomach growled. He was surprised he felt hungry. “Smells good.”

  “Thanks. I hope you like it.” She opened the refrigerator. “Do you have any salsa?”

  “Yeah, look inside the door.”

  Maria grabbed it and set it on the table. “I’ll bring you some of my homemade salsa later. But this will do for now.” She opened a carafe of coffee she’d brought and poured two cups. “Come on. Sit down.”

  Jeff obeyed.

  Maria sat across from him. Distance—she was maintaining distance. It was as apparent as the sun in the sky.

  She cleared her throat. “I want to apologize—”

  “For barging into my house?”

  “No.” She reddened. “I mean, yes, of course.”

  God she was beautiful.

  “But also for last night. I didn’t mean to…”

  Strangely, he understood her hesitation. “Hard to find the words, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “Look, Maria. There are some things you’re never going to understand. Things I can’t even explain. Things I don’t know if…” He sighed. Words escaped him.

  “Jeff, if you need to talk—”

  He pounded his fist on the table. She jumped.

  “Hell, yes, I need to talk. And I need to be silent. And I need so many fucking things…” He buried his head in his hands.

  Maria rose. The patter of her footsteps came near, and then her lips touched the top of his head.

  “I wish I could help, Jeff. I wish I could chase away those demons for you. I may not be able to, but I could at least try. If you let me in.”

  * * *

  Thirty-Three Years Earlier

  “Are you sure your brother’s not home?”

  “Yeah. He went out. On a date I think,” Jeff scoffed. “Some high society deb from Denver who’s in town visiting relatives.”

  “Could be you’ll have a new sister-in-law soon.” Max laughed.

  “Where are the others?”

  “Booker’s home sick. Trey should be here soon.” Max checked his watch. “Jesus, where the fuck is he?”

  Jeff scanned the premises. “There he is.”

  Trey Dodson loped up, dressed all in black, as they all were. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Jeff said. “Gramps is still in the hospital, and Wayne’s out. Let’s move and get this over with.”

  Jeff keyed open the door, and they went inside Casa Bay.

  “No alarm?” Trey asked.

  Jeff shook his head. “Nope. Though I’m sure one will be installed first thing tomorrow.”

  “Where’s the loot?” Max said.

  “In the old man’s den. Come on.”

  Jeff led them to Grandpa Norman’s office. The room was spacious. Paintings of livestock peppered the walls, and the furniture was fine mahogany. Papers covered his sprawling desk. Jeff glanced quickly over them, and one caught his eye. Codicil. That was an addition to a will, right? Was Gramps changing his will? Maybe writing him back in? He picked up the paper and scanned through it, squinting his eyes in the darkness. A lot of legal jargon about daughters being married or something.

  So he was still disinherited. Fuck the old bastard. Jeff was all in now. He’d get his rightful due one way or another.

  “What are you reading that shit for?” Max said. “Let’s get moving. Loverboy might get back early.”

  Max was right. Jeff tossed the document in the trash. Gramps no doubt had copies. Or his lawyer did. Who gave a rat’s ass anyway?

  He moved behind the desk and removed the bust of the head of Michelangelo’s David—Grandpa’s taste in art was eclectic, the Renaissance and cattle—and some stray books from the top of the big safe. The big bucks wouldn’t be here. They’d be in the wall safe hidden behind the copy of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper. But Jeff had made up his mind to start in this safe. He’d always wondered what Gramps hid inside.

  Carefully he turned the combination lock back and forth, hitting each number. He pulled the door open slowly.

  “Shine the light over here, Trey,” he said.

  The beam illuminated first several piles of stock certificates. No good. They needed liquid. He pulled out the stocks and pushed them aside. Next he pulled out a cedar box the size of a loaf of bread. He opened it.

  Jewels! Had they belonged to his grandmother? Or, God forbid, his mother?

  He pushed the thought from his mind. Mom and Grandma were gone, and he was here to get his due.

  A string of small pearls caught his eye. In his mind, Mia was wearing them, their white sheen a beautiful contrast to her tan skin. He grabbed them and pocketed them, and then said, “Check these out, guys. They’ll be worth a buck or two.” He handed the box to Max and continued searching.

  He pulled out a pocket watch. An old pipe. The old man smoked a pipe? Or maybe this had belonged to someone important. He tossed it aside. In the back were stacks of bills. Show time! They were hundreds. About twenty packs of hundreds, each totaling ten thousand dollars.

  He’d hit the fucking jackpot.

  He shoved one in his pocket with the necklace and tossed the others out to the guys. “Pay dirt, fellas.”

  “Shit the bed,” Max said. “There’s two or three hundred grand here. And you said the big money ain’t in this safe?”

  “I said it’s probably not in this safe. My guess is it’s in the wall safe.” He deliberately didn’t mention the safe in Grandpa’s bedroom. That was for his eyes and his eyes alone. He just had to figure out when to check it out.

  Only a couple of gold coins were left in the safe. He pocketed one—hell, he was related to the man and these others were nothing to Grandpa Norman—and threw the rest to the guys.

  “That cleans this out.”

  “Where’s the other safe?”

  Jeff stood. “It’s over there.” He pointed to the Leonardo painting. “Behind The Last Supper.”

  Trey beamed the light on the painting. “What are we waiting for?”

  “Yeah, Bay,” Max said. “Let’s quit fucking around.”

  “Who’s fucking around?” Jeff put the stock certificates and pipe back into the safe and replaced the books and statue. He walked to the painting and ran his gloved hand over the top of the frame. His fingertip was coated in dust. Whoever Gramps was paying to clean his house sucked. For some reason, the thought made him laugh out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” Max said.

  Jeff shook his head. “Nothing.” He prepared to lift the painting and then jerked when a voice invaded his thoughts.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Let her in? Jeff shook his head. “You don’t want to be let in to this hell, Mia. Trust me.”

  Still behind him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his head again. “I won’t pretend to understand what you’ve been through. I know I can’t. But I want to help. Sometimes you just need to let it out.”

  “Oh, God.” His face hit his hands again. Damn it! He was not going to cry. Not going to be weak. Weakness gets you killed.

  “It’s okay, Jeff.” Her lips touched his head once more. “Let it out. It’s okay.”

  But it wasn’t okay. It would never be okay. His shoulders shook as the unwanted tear fell into his hands.

  Mia’s comforting hands caressed his shoulders. Then she curved her arms around him, t
ighter this time. Her lips slid over his neck. She said nothing.

  A giant sob racked through him. He heard his own voice crying—like an echo, as if the sounds were coming from far away. He hated it, but he was powerless to stop the onslaught. It was coming out now, and he no longer had any control.

  Mia loosened her hold and knelt down next to him, combing her fingers through his hair. He looked up, knowing his face was red and tear-stained.

  She had tears in her eyes too. No! That’s the last thing he wanted, for her to hurt. He pushed the chair back, its legs squeaking against the tile floor, and stood. “Mia, you have to go.”

  “Jeff—”

  “I can’t have you crying. You can’t be a part of this. You’re too good. Too perfect.”

  Her eyes widened. “Perfect? Those words did not just leave your mouth.” She sniffed. “We were perfect once, Jeff. We had what few ever have. But we both destroyed that. Both of us. I’m far from perfect.”

  He shook his head. She didn’t get it. She was beautiful. Yes, she’d made her own mistakes, but still she was innocent to the horrors of the world. He couldn’t taint her with this. How could he get her to see that?

  She stood and looked up at him, her eyes still wet with tears but now burning with fire. “I’ve got news for you. I’m already a part of this. I’m a part of you, and I have been for over thirty years. You have demons? Guess what? So do I. Maybe not as frightening, but they’re there. And here’s another newsflash. Your demons are my demons. I will never be free of them either. Not until you’re free. And you can’t be free if you keep them inside. They’ll destroy you.” She moved closer, touched his cheek. “And I will go down kicking and screaming before I see you destroy yourself.”

  “Mia—”

  “I mean it, Jeff.” Her eyes were shooting darts. She slid her hand from his cheek down his shoulder and arm, and then took his hand. “Come with me.”

  She led him to the living room, sat down on the couch, and patted the cushion beside her.