Tempt Me at Midnight

by Maureen Smith

“Mmm-hmm. I wasn’t even supposed to be at that party the night we met. I had planned to go home for the weekend.”

  “Really? I never knew that.”

  She grimaced. “I got into a heated argument on the phone with my mother. So I decided not to go home after all. But my friends had already left for the party, so I didn’t have a ride. I could have caught the bus, but I didn’t have the address of the party. So I’d resigned myself to spending a miserable Friday night alone.”

  Quentin’s cheek was now resting gently against hers. “So what happened?”

  “I stepped out of my dorm room to get a snack, and that’s when I ran into some girls who were heading out to the party. I had a class with one of them, so she kindly offered to let me catch a ride with them if I hurried up and got ready.” Lexi smiled softly. “So just think. If I hadn’t argued with my mother, stayed on campus and run into those girls, I wouldn’t have gone to the party. Which means I wouldn’t have met you that night. Possibly never.”

  A stillness settled over Quentin. “That,” he said quietly, “would have been unthinkable.”

  She closed her eyes. “I know.”

  Silence lapsed between them, both marveling at the simple twist of fate that had brought them into each other’s lives.

  After a few moments, Quentin kissed her cheek and murmured huskily, “Let’s go into the bedroom.”

  Her mouth went dry. “In a little while.”

  He dragged his lips to her bare shoulder, nipping her gently. “I’d rather go now.”

  She felt his heavy erection thickening against her butt, felt an answering tug of arousal between her thighs. But she wasn’t ready to go into the bedroom yet. She wasn’t ready to face the demons that haunted her, especially on this day.

  Quentin had grown still again. “Lex—”

  She sat up abruptly, dislodging the blanket. “While we’re taking a stroll down memory lane, you’re not going to believe what I came across the other day when I was cleaning out my closet.”

  Propping himself up on one elbow, Quentin watched as she padded quickly to the entertainment center and knelt down to retrieve an old videocassette. She popped it into the VCR/DVD combo and pressed fast forward until she reached the desired starting point, which she’d memorized years ago.

  As she grabbed the remote control and rejoined Quentin on the blanket, he gave her a darkly amused glance that told her he knew she was stalling for time. She wondered if he knew why.

  Shoving aside the uneasy thought, she grinned broadly at him. “You’re gonna get such a kick out of this.”

  “Hmm,” was his noncommittal response.

  She hit play.

  The television screen was filled with an image of several cloaked figures huddled around a circle. The eerie, haunting strains of gothic music could be heard playing in the background.

  Recognizing the footage from an old college step show, Quentin groaned in amused disbelief.

  Lexi grinned. “Shh! Here comes the best part.”

  As they watched, the cloaked specters suddenly dropped to a crouch, revealing two tall, familiar figures in the middle of the circle. They stood back to back, their black hoods drawn menacingly low over their faces.

  The sinister organ music abruptly segued to a pulsing drum solo. With military precision, the hooded cloaks were ripped off, and Quentin and Michael exploded into an electrifying step number that had their muscled chests gleaming and hips undulating in a fierce, primal rhythm that made every female in the crowd scream like fans at a rock concert. Lexi knew—she’d been one of them.

  Even now, she couldn’t help fanning herself as she whistled and cheered at the television.

  At the first note of “Atomic Dog,” the other members of the group launched into the routine with a synchronized series of stomps, kicks and hand claps that brought the audience to its feet with a roar of approval.

  As the performance ended, Lexi clapped loudly and whooped with delight while Quentin chuckled and shook his head.

  “Those were the days,” she fondly reminisced. “Man, you and Mike had some serious moves!”

  “Had?” Quentin pretended to be affronted.

  She rolled her eyes at him in laughing exasperation. “Don’t worry, baby. You can still work it.” She winked. “And not just on a stage either.”

  “That’s better,” he grumbled, lips quirking at the corners.

  Not only were Quentin and Michael the best dancers; they’d also been the best-looking members of their fraternity. So they’d often been used to kick off the group’s performances.

  “You and Mike were so exploited,” Lexi teased.

  Quentin chuckled. “We didn’t exactly mind.”

  “I guess not, considering you two got all the ladies.”

  Quentin flashed a cocky grin and flexed his arm, the tattooed bicep bulging impressively. “Recognize.”

  “What!” Lexi grabbed the throw pillow she’d been lying on and smacked him upside the head with it. “Recognize this!”

  Laughing, Quentin wrestled her to the floor and pinned her beneath his big, heavy body. She giggled, squirming and bucking her hips in a comically futile attempt to dislodge him. When she saw the wicked intent in his eyes, she shook her head in desperate entreaty.

  “Oh, no. Please not that. I beg of y—” Her plea choked off into a squeal as Quentin dug his fingertips into the secret spot between her ribs that he’d discovered years ago.

  As he tickled her, Lexi shrieked with hysterical laughter, her head rocking back and forth against the blanket.

  “Not so big and bad now, huh?” Quentin taunted. “All I gotta do is find your kryptonite.”

  “Q,” she gasped, laughing so hard that tears ran from the corners of her eyes, “please…stop!”

  He grinned. “Naw. You need to be taught a lesson, woman.”

  “Please!”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “You’re gonna make me wet myself!”

  Those marauding fingers paused. “Well, now, considering that we’re both naked, that might not be such a good thing.”

  Lexi’s next howl of laughter joined his as he relented, wrapping his arms around her and rolling over so that she was on top. She clung to his neck, gasping and trying to catch her breath.

  Gradually she became aware of his hot, rigid erection prodding her belly. His hands stroked down her back, then cupped the swell of her bottom. As currents of sensation flooded her loins, she sighed and murmured without thinking, “This is the kind of scenario Adam always thought he’d walk in on.”

  Instantly she knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

  Quentin’s body locked up like he’d been tasered with a stun gun.

  When she raised her head to look down at him, his eyes cut straight through her like the laser-driven scope of a rifle.

  “What the hell did you just say?” he demanded.

  Lexi swallowed hard. Wordlessly she rolled off him and sat up, pulling the blanket over her body. Her nudity suddenly felt uncomfortable. Too revealing.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, staring at Quentin as he propped himself up on one elbow and snapped the other edge of the blanket over his waist. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Too late.” His voice was flat. Hard. “Now repeat it so I can make sure my ears weren’t deceiving me.”

  She drew a long, shaky breath. “I never told you this, though maybe you could sense it, but Adam hated our friendship. Hated it. He felt threatened by our closeness, and sometimes it made him lash out in cruel ways.”

  Quentin stared at her, looking as if the blood had suddenly drained from his head. “Did he ever—”

  “No, he never hit me. That wasn’t really his style,” she said, bitterly mocking. “He was more into psychological abuse.”

  Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Lexi squeezed her own eyes shut, as if by doing so, she could block out the painful memories. “If I wore a certain blouse or skirt, he’d sneer
at me and ask me if I was going to see you that day. When you came over one time while he was supposed to be on a business trip, he swore up and down that we were having an affair. And sometimes when we made love he’d taunt me, accusing me of wanting you in our bed instead of him, asking me if you were a better lover and if you had a bigger ‘jackhammer,’ as he crudely put it. He made me feel so dirty when he talked like that, and not in a good way.” She shuddered convulsively.

  Quentin was deadly silent.

  “Honestly, it’s a miracle I didn’t let him poison our friendship,” she continued grimly. “I think that’s what he wanted. And I think it gave him some sort of sadistic pleasure to bring women into our bed. It’s like he was getting even with me for something he thought I’d done, or wanted to do.” Her mouth twisted cynically. “In the end, when I demanded a divorce, he had the nerve to claim that my friendship with you drove him to cheat. That’s when I really knew how depraved he was.”

  “Son of a bitch.” The words exploded through gritted teeth. “Son of a bitch!”

  Wearily Lexi held up a hand. “It’s all right—”

  “The hell it is!” Quentin roared, his face contorted with fury. “That bastard was never good enough for you, and I knew it the moment I met him! But I held my tongue because I saw how much it hurt you every time your mother criticized him. For two years I kept my distance from you as much as possible because I never wanted to give him any reason to think I was disrespecting his marriage. I missed the hell out of you, Lex, but I put your happiness and peace of mind above my own selfish needs. The only reason that filthy piece of shit accused you of cheating was to ease his own guilty conscience!”

  By the time he’d finished his furious tirade, Lexi was trembling so hard her teeth chattered. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, wishing like hell she’d never opened this Pandora’s box with Quentin. What had possessed her?

  “I need his address.” Quentin’s voice was low with suppressed rage.

  “No.” Her answer was swift, unequivocal. “Absolutely not.”

  “Forget it. I’ll find him myself.”

  “And do what, Quentin?” she cried. “Beat him to a bloody pulp? Kill him? And then what? You wanna rot in prison for the rest of your life, or until the State of Georgia puts you down like a rabid dog? Adam McNamara isn’t worth it! You hear me? He isn’t worth it!”

  “That’s for me to decide,” Quentin snarled.

  “No, it isn’t! I’m the one who was married to him, not you. I’ve already warned you to stay away from him, but you’re so damn hotheaded!”

  “It’s been two years, and I haven’t gone after him once!”

  “Only because he changed jobs and his phone number and address are unlisted! My God, Red, you’ve got the man living like he’s in the witness protection program. He actually told his lawyer that he feared retaliation from you!” She shook her head in angry disbelief. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or fight my battles. Last I checked, I kicked his sorry ass in divorce court!”

  “Not good enough,” Quentin bit off.

  “It is for me!” Eyes narrowed dangerously, she jabbed a warning finger at him. “I’ve told you once, and I’m telling you again. If you get yourself locked up, I won’t visit you in prison. Not one single day! And I mean it!”

  His eyes darkened, nostrils flaring. “That’s just a chance I’ll have to take.”

  “Try me.”

  “Alexis—”

  “If you go to prison, you’ll kill me, too. Is that what you want?”

  He averted his gaze, a muscle pulsing at the base of his tightly clenched jaw.

  Silence, raw and volatile, lapsed between them.

  When Lexi’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point, Quentin said in a low, sullen voice, “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” she whispered at once.

  “It’s hard, you know? Hard to watch your best friend go through hell and you can’t do a damn thing about it. You were a wreck for a whole year after the divorce. It killed me, Lex. Killed me.”

  “I know. We shed more than a few tears together.” She gave him a wan, grateful smile, remembering how wonderful and attentive he’d been to her during those dark, bleak days when all she’d wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position and never leave her bed. Quentin had often left work early and brought over dinner from the restaurant just to make sure she ate. They’d played cards and video games and watched movies together. He’d coaxed smiles out of her when no one else could. And sometimes, when she’d just needed to be held, he’d done that, too. Lexi knew she couldn’t have gotten through the painful ordeal without Quentin. He was her Rock of Gibraltar.

  She swallowed, drew a deep, shuddering breath and slowly exhaled. “I’m sorry, Quentin. We were having such a good time tonight. I shouldn’t have brought up Adam. It’s just that… Having you here with me… On my anniversary…” She trailed off, suddenly too embarrassed to continue.

  But Quentin reached up and grasped her face between his hands, forcing her to meet the piercing directness of his gaze. “Finish what you were going to say.”

  She licked her lips. “You’re the first man I’ve slept with since my divorce.”

  A range of emotions crossed Quentin’s face—surprise, tenderness, relief. Gratitude. “You gave me the privilege of being your…first?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, gazing earnestly at him. “And I wish to God you really had been my very first lover.”

  With an agonized groan Quentin crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her so hungrily and fiercely her head spun. She clung tightly to him as he swept her up into his arms, stood and started purposefully from the living room.

  When she realized where he was heading, she panicked. “Quentin, the guest bedroom is—”

  “I know where the hell it is,” he snarled. “I’m not taking you there. And I’m not a damn guest!”

  “But—”

  He silenced her with a look that warned her the fun and games were over. This was serious business, and the outcome of this match of wills could change the course of their lives forever.

  He strode into the master bedroom with the single-minded determination of a general storming the gates of a fortress. If the door had been closed he would have kicked it open, crashing it against the wall.

  Lexi trembled as he gently laid her on the king-size bed and lowered his body over hers. His hot, possessive gaze drilled into hers, stripping away her defenses. Laying her bare.

  “I told you,” he growled. “No more walls. No more barriers. No more ghosts from the past.”

  “Quentin—”

  “I know what this is about. You’ve been stonewalling all night, and now I know why. You didn’t want to bring me in here because in some warped way, you feel like you really are cheating on Adam. Like you’re justifying his crazy, jealous accusations by being with me.” He pushed his face into hers, scorching her with the feral intensity of his gaze. “But you didn’t do anything wrong. Do you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong!”

  He seized her mouth in another deep, mind-blowing kiss that left her reeling. And then he was sliding lower, slowly kissing his way down her trembling body. His lips ignited brushfires everywhere they touched, his hands stroking and exploring her flesh until there was no part of her he hadn’t claimed as his own. She was burning with fever, shivering with need. By the time he reached the aching place between her thighs, she was so primed that all it took was one stroke of his tongue against her swollen clit and she arched off the bed like a rocket had gone off inside her.

  “That’s right,” Quentin crooned with dark satisfaction as she convulsed and keened with helpless pleasure. “There’s nothing wrong or dirty about what we’re doing. Nothing in my life has felt more right than making love to you, Lex.”

  He moved over her, and their lips and tongues met and meshed until they were both breathing harshly. Quentin drew back, pushing himself to his knees. Lexi followed h
im, her hungry gaze fixated on the long, engorged penis jutting insistently from his body.

  Her eyes locked with his as she wrapped her hand around his shaft and eased him into her mouth. He groaned and shuddered convulsively. He was big, the blunt head easily reaching the back of her throat and beyond. His skin was hot, thick and firm, a steel bar drenched in melted chocolate. She slid him in and out of her mouth, working her lips and tongue as she simultaneously massaged his engorged sac. His guttural moans intoxicated her, made her drunk on her own sensual power. And somewhere deep inside her, a naughty, vengeful little voice whispered, Yes, Adam, he is bigger, thank you very much!

  And then Quentin was shuddering and climaxing, his penis pulsing and contracting violently as he exploded inside her mouth. He watched her swallow his seed, his heavy-lidded eyes glittering with fierce adoration.

  And she stared back at him, shaken by the profound intimacy of this moment. A moment shared with the one man she was never, ever supposed to want.

  Lovingly Quentin stroked her hair. “We can do anything we want, sweetness,” he said huskily. “Anything.”

  He lowered his head, slanting his mouth over hers. They shared another kiss. Languorous, achingly slow, lips parting and coming together again. And then he turned her around, keeping her on all fours.

  “If I want to take you from behind—” he thrust into her, tearing an animal cry from her throat “—we can do that, too.”

  Gripping her hips, he began rocking against her, a slow, measured pace that had her moaning and grabbing fistfuls of the bed linens. Sweat soon coated their bodies, making their skin so slick that each thrust echoed in a wet slapping sound. Quentin caressed her butt and cupped her swinging breasts, brushing his thumbs over her tight nipples until her moans grew wilder.

  Whispering rough-tender endearments, he leaned over her, embracing her as he kissed between her shoulder blades and nuzzled the nape of her neck. Her skin was so sensitized that the scrape of his bristled jaw sent electric shivers racing to her engorged clit. Before she could reach down, his nimble fingers were already stroking her, soothing the raw ache. She gyrated and ground her hips against his, needing him to go faster. But he maintained his slow, relentless rhythm, every plunge and glide of his hot, silken hardness driving her closer to the edge.