by Cindy Dees
But to his surprise, Hank seemed to fight off the crying jag. “I can’t,” she mumbled. “I have to be strong until I find Max.”
It took some real toughness to reel back in the powerful emotions he’d just glimpsed. His admiration for her grew even more.
“What I need is distraction. Talk to me about your work, Ashe.”
Oh, no. Not going there. His work was classified. And for some reason, he didn’t want her to see his job when she looked at him. He wanted her to see him. Which went against all his training. In his line of work, the last thing an operator wanted was to be seen and noticed. Invisibility was his best friend. He commented wryly, “I do secret stuff for the military.”
“Can you be more specific than that?”
“Nope,” he replied lightly. “Anyway, I’m more interested in talking about your time at the Voodoo. What’s it like working there?”
She was silent a long time before she finally answered, “It’s appalling. The women there are treated like pieces of meat. It’s degrading and soul-sucking. And I’m not even up on the catwalk or working in the back. Or, God forbid, upstairs.”
“My lap dance notwithstanding?” he couldn’t resist commenting.
“I was cornered into that by my own stupid temper. And for the record, that is the only lap dance I have ever performed.”
“I’m honored.”
She swatted his arm, and he laughed, low and deep in his chest.
All of a sudden, sexual tension hung in the darkness around them, thick and hungry. Hank burrowed closer against his side, and he stared down at the shadows wreathing her face, trying and failing to penetrate the dark to see her eyes.
She made a small sound of distress.
“Are you okay?” he asked immediately.
“No.” A pause. “I want to kiss you, but I think it would be a mistake.”
His entire being stilled, holding its breath. All of a sudden, he wanted nothing more in the entire world than for her to kiss him. Even if she was right that it would be a terrible mistake.
They weren’t meant to be. He was the kind of man who sucked at relationships, and she was too damned vulnerable to protect herself from him and his baggage.
“Don’t kiss me if you’re afraid of the dark, Hank. That’s all you’ll find inside me.”
Chapter 6
Hank stared up at Ashe but was unable to make out his features. His warning resonated as truth in her head, but something visceral deep inside her didn’t care in the least. She wanted this man.
The wanting was so foreign to her she hardly knew how to react to it. It had been one thing to casually date guys in college. She wasn’t looking for an MRS degree, and the guys she’d slept with weren’t looking to settle down, either. The sex had been easy. Fun. Not the slightest bit serious.
But this man would be different. For one thing, he was not some college frat boy who had no idea who he was or what he wanted out of life—or from the women he slept with. For another thing, an aura of danger clung to this man like a second skin. He didn’t strike her as the type to do anything casually or just for fun.
He wasn’t kidding. Darkness did cling to him. It draped around him like clothing. He breathed it in and out. Darkness was a part of him.
And still, she wanted to kiss him.
Was she trying to hide from her fears, or was she just pathetically lonely and trying to make a human connection with someone—anyone? Heck, maybe she was just horny. He was extremely hot, after all.
“Talk to me, Hank. I can’t read you right now.”
She huffed. “I’m overthinking the situation. I always do this.”
“How’s that?”
“I hear what you’re saying. I appreciate you being decent enough to warn me off...and I get that I should steer clear of you and your inner darkness. But I still want to kiss you. Why am I feeling that way if, intellectually, I know that it’s a bad idea?”
“You’re not kidding. You do overthink things,” he muttered. His body shifted quickly beneath her arm and her ear, and his mouth closed on hers without warning.
And he had not been wrong. Darkness closed in around her, enveloping her in corded muscles and a big, hard body as firm, warm lips claimed hers. Lust roared through her, but not just any lust. This was the real deal. Adult desire for passion and sweat and debauchery overtook her. She embraced the darkness within him. Threw herself into it. And was scared to death. But still she did it.
He kissed her like the night, stealing past her defenses, inspiring genuine terror as he showed her how she’d never really been kissed before. Not until now. This man was unlike any she’d ever known before. She was in over her head with him, totally unprepared to deal with a man like him. But still she kissed him.
He claimed her whole body, drawing her up against his large frame, his legs tangling with hers, his hands roaming across her back and plunging into her hair. His teeth nipped her ear, his lips outlined her jaw, his tongue traced her lips. And then he took her entire mouth with his, kissing her voraciously. She should have pulled away from him. Gotten up and left his bed that very minute. And still she stayed with him.
She surged against him, stunned at the fervent reaction he drew from her. Her wanting from before exploded into more. Into greed and gluttony and obsession. Something dark, indeed, clawed low in her belly, seeking release.
And then hot, strong fingers were on her skin as the bathrobe sagged away from her shoulders. His hands moved gently, but possessively, across her back. One hand swept around her ribs to cup her breast, and she cried out softly as his thumb rubbed across the sensitive peak.
“Tell me to stop now, kitten, or this is going to get out of hand.”
“Don’t stop,” she gasped.
He swore under his breath. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“I want this. I want you, Ashe. I want the darkness.”
“I’m not going to be good for you. I’ll hurt you. Wreck your heart. Ruin you for any other man.”
And still, Hank gave herself to him. She arched up into him in blatant invitation. She didn’t just dive into the black lake of his soul. She did a running cannonball into it, crashing into him with a mighty splash, consequences be damned. She’d had enough of shying away from living. Of never taking chances. Of hiding from everything and everyone.
He seemed to sense her decision because his mouth lifted away from her skin and he stared down at her quizzically in the dark.
He wasn’t going to pull away from her, was he? Fear that he would be the one to step away from this madness gripped her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on for dear life. “Don’t leave me, Ashe. Stay with me. Make love to me.”
“Aww, hell. This is a crappy idea.”
But his head lowered to hers once more and he kissed her again, more thoroughly this time. As if, now that the decision was made, he could slow down and take his time claiming her. His hands roamed her body more boldly now. He seemed interested in knowing where she was most sensitive, what made her inhale with surprise or exhale in pleasure.
He pushed her gently onto her back and finished unwrapping her from the bathrobe, laying it open on the bed. And then he explored her, head to foot, with his mouth and hands. He found ticklish spots she didn’t even know she had and stirred her erogenous zones in ways she’d never dreamed possible.
The man stood for no evasion or shyness from her, but in return, he seemed to gustily enjoy every inch of her far-from-perfect body. Bless him. Gradually, she relaxed and even found herself impatient to explore his body the same way.
When she finally pushed at his shoulders, he gave way in spite of his vastly superior strength and let her explore him in return.
“What’s this scar?” she murmured as her lips found a puckered circle on his shoulder.
“Gunshot. Long time ago. Africa.” He sounded tense. Was she really turning him on enough that he was having to restrain himself that tightly? Cool.
She kissed
her way across his washboard abs to his side. Just below his waist she encountered another scar, this time a thin line. She spoke against his warm skin. “Let me guess. You were stabbed here.”
“No.” He chuckled. “I had my appendix out when I was a kid.”
She had trouble imagining this lethal panther of a man ever having been a child. Her fingers drifted across his lower belly, and the muscles there tightened violently. A faint groan rumbled through him.
She was too chicken to go for the obvious next target of exploration. Instead she trailed her fingertips down his muscular thigh to a long scar on the side of his knee that was self-explanatory and lower to his calves and feet.
“I used to massage my mother’s feet to help her circulation,” she murmured. “She couldn’t feel it, though.” She dug her thumbs into the arch of his foot and rubbed from heel to toe the way the physical therapist had shown her.
Another groan from Ashe.
“Did that hurt?” she asked quickly.
“God, no.” She leaned down to suck his toes while she rubbed his arch again.
That game didn’t last very long, though. Ashe surged upright and dragged her up his body, effectively ending her explorations. He laid her on her back and pinned her hands to the mattress with his, their fingers firmly interlocked.
“Last chance,” he gritted out.
To do what? Back out of this insanity? Not a chance. She undulated against his body in crystal clear invitation. And he, not the slightest bit slow on the uptake, got the message. But just to be sure, she murmured, “I want you, Ashe.”
“All right, then,” he murmured. That almost sounded like relief in his voice. He was really holding himself back that hard on her account?
“Now would be nice.”
He laughed under his breath and then went still, as if he were pausing to savor the moment.
Warmth flowed through her, and she lifted her head off the pillow to kiss him. She didn’t know how else to give him permission to let go of all that tightly reined self-control.
He eased her knees apart with his and brushed her tangled hair off her face with one hand. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She didn’t know if he could see it, but she smiled up at him. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness enough for her to make out the grim set of his jaw and the incendiary desire blazing in his eyes.
And then his body demanded her full attention as he pressed slowly and inexorably into her. It had been a long time since she’d had sex, and her internal muscles clenched him tightly. Finally, seated to the hilt within her, he paused, staring down at her. What was he waiting for?
“Are you okay?” she asked anxiously.
A short laugh was his answer. “Honey, I haven’t been this okay in a long time.”
Huh. She’d assumed that he would be as cavalier about sex as he was about risking his life. But apparently, physical intimacy wasn’t something he took for granted.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Completely.” She smiled up at him shyly.
He began to move slowly, reverently even, within her. It felt incredible. She met each of his deliberate thrusts with one of her own, impatient for more. He maintained the maddeningly slow rhythm until she was all but sobbing with need into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her body shuddered with pleasure every time he withdrew and then filled her to bursting again.
Her body grew damp with perspiration born of hunger, while his body grew slick with what she assumed was his excessive restraint. Desperate for him to let go, she clenched and unclenched her internal muscles and wrapped both arms and legs around him, drawing him deeper into her.
“Will you quit torturing me?” she finally complained.
“And here I was, thinking you were torturing me. I’d love to do this forever. I can’t get enough of you.”
“If I promise you can do this again anytime you want, will you stop trying to hold back?” she asked.
He laughed grimly. “Aww, kitten. You shouldn’t have said that.”
“I promise already!”
His chest shook with silent laughter, but the smile faded from his face as she stared up at him. The darkness overtook him once more and he pulled it close around himself, clothing himself in the night. He withdrew almost all the way from her and then drove forward into her with enough power to make her sob for real. Her entire body convulsed in ecstasy around the delicious invasion.
“Again,” she gasped.
He obliged, wringing a soul-deep moan from her.
And then it was all about the sex. Slapping flesh and heavy breathing and sweat-slippery skin on skin. She gripped his flexed biceps braced on either side of her head, relishing his strength as he surged into her and she arched up against him. They were two waves crashing against one another, obliterating each other in the process. Over and over they collided, smashing each other to smithereens.
It was wild and uncontained, a raging storm breaking on the rocky coast of desire. She’d never experienced anything remotely like it. Sex swept her out of herself and threw her into a place of pure sensation, of exhilaration, of escape from the prison of her doubts and fears.
Something electric and galvanizing clawed at her insides, growing like a ravenous beast in her belly and consuming her from the inside out. The sensation was unfamiliar to her, but greed for more of it drove her onward, deeper into the darkness of their shared passion.
The sensation built until she thought she was going to explode. She paused for a second, shocked by what was happening to her. And then her whole body detonated in pleasure so intense that she arched against Ashe as taut as a drawn bow. A cry escaped her throat as the awful, delicious tension released all at once. The arrow flew, and her entire being resonated with the vibration of its flight. She shuddered uncontrollably against the bulwark of Ashe’s unmovable body.
“What was that?” she gasped.
“Umm, an orgasm?” he mused.
“Wow. I get it now.”
“You’ve never had one before?” he asked in surprise.
“I guess not.”
He smiled, slow and possessive. “Well then. How about we do that to you again?”
He reached down between them to where their bodies joined. His thumb rolled back and forth across her slick, swollen bud, and she nearly spontaneously combusted. If her first orgasm had been an electric shock, this one was a bolt of lightning. It streaked through her like a million volts of pure sex. She arched up violently into him, her entire body spasming around the erection still buried deep within her.
He swore under his breath, and she echoed the sentiment. No common words could describe that. And then he was all restless heat within her and against her, his body growing ever more demanding of hers.
She had no inhibition left. The pair of orgasms had stripped all pretense of rational thought from her, leaving her a creature of sensation and delight, blinded by lust and hounded by greed for more.
She gripped his hips with all her strength and made ravaged sounds of pleasure as he lifted her hips in his hands and pounded into her with abandon. It wasn’t elegant or sophisticated. It was raw and primal. And utterly glorious.
He slammed into her so deep she felt him in her throat as he convulsed against her, groaning from the depths of his being. At the sound of his pleasure, she met his release with yet another of her own.
It was so personal, so intimate, she had no words for it as she held him close and he panted over her, his body protectively covering hers.
He dropped his forehead to rest against hers. Even that seemed somehow more intimate than a mere kiss.
She was completely drained. Her entire being felt wrung out, her emotions and stress washed clean away, leaving behind a still, silent core of darkness deep inside her. But it was a peaceful dark. Quiet. Reflective.
Ashe’s breathing recovered to something resembling normal much more quickly than hers did, but he did not move. He stayed right there—his legs tangled with
hers, body sprawled against hers, torso propped up on his elbows, staring down at her for a long time after he was breathing slow and steady. He looked pensive, as well.
At long last, he murmured huskily, “What am I going to do with you?”
She stared up at him, not understanding the question.
He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and pushed away from her. He rolled to his back, an arm thrown over his face.
Frightened at the abruptness of his departure, both physical and emotional, she followed him, propping herself on his chest with her forearm. “What’s wrong, Ashe? Talk to me.”
He lifted his arm away from his face to stare at her bleakly. “That changed everything.”
Full-blown panic tore through her. “How? How do I put it back the way it was?” she cried.
“That’s the thing. Nothing will ever be the same after that.”
“What was wrong with it?” She’d thought the sex had been spectacular. Beyond spectacular.
He made a sound that he’d probably meant to be laughter, but it bore more resemblance to a bark of disbelief. He shoved a hand through his disheveled dark hair. Swore. Then he asked, “Are you kidding? Nothing was wrong with it. That was...it was—” A pause. “Hell, there are no words to describe how perfect that was.”
“Then what’s the problem?” she asked in a small voice. He wasn’t saying anything to alleviate her panic here.
He frowned up at her. Swept her hair back from her face. “I can’t let you go after that. I can’t walk away.”
He’d been planning to walk away from her? When? Tonight? Tomorrow? In two weeks, after the club was raided? Or was it the fact that they hadn’t used protection? Which had been really dumb. She was on birth control pills to regulate her cycle, but protection with a new sexual partner was Common Sense 101. Was he worried about that—?
“You’re overthinking again, Hank. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Then explain it to me. Why can’t you walk away? Where were you planning to go? And when? Is there something wrong with me—?”