Heart Song Anthology

by Carolyn Faulkner

  For some reason, that idea made her blush furiously, and she added defensively, “Wow. You’ve got a good memory. I’m really particular about my coffee.”

  He didn’t look in the least concerned or annoyed by her idiosyncrasy, answering softly but firmly, “That’s okay. I’m a particular man myself, especially when it comes to women.”

  Tess’s mouth went Sahara dry at that, and she found she was having trouble swallowing because of it, so she took a big gulp of her coffee, scalding everything it touched in the process.

  Smooth move, she chided herself, gasping at the heat.

  Luckily, he’d decided to look around the place a bit and hadn’t noted her distress. “How long have you been open?” he asked casually as she tried to assess what she decided had to be third degree burns to her mouth.

  “About three years.”

  “It looks like you’re doing okay.”

  She had to smile a bit proudly. “Better than okay, actually. I’m ahead of where I’d thought I’d be.”

  “Really? Good on you, then.” There was no trace of sarcasm in his tone whatsoever, as there would have been in Tighe’s if he was here. “It’s not easy to get a small business going nowadays.” His eyes settled on her in a look that was somehow much more intimate than she was really comfortable with, audaciously peaking her nipples from three feet away. “I own the garage on the way out of town.”

  “Maddox Motors? I’ve seen it.” So far, she’d been lucky enough not to need him, but old Bessie was getting on in years – hell, she was already on in years. She was at the portals of ancient, and it would be convenient to know somewhere to take her when she started showing signs of age, especially since he was within walking distance. “How long have you been in that location?”

  “Well, we’ve been there since about 1980, but I officially took it over from my dad when I got back from a stint in Iraq about seven years ago.”

  Somehow that wasn’t a surprising thing to hear from him. He had a very military bearing, and with his regulation short sandy blonde hair he just looked like a soldier, somehow. Tess cleared her throat. “Well, thank you for your service.”

  “You’re welcome.” No false modesty, no demurring, just flat, polite response.

  He had yet to take his eyes off her, and Tess’s entire body was beginning to flush, as she already knew her face was. He took a step towards her, his eyes intent on hers. “So, does risking life and limb for God and country get me a date with a pretty lady?”

  She couldn’t stop herself. It just came out, force of habit. “I don’t know. You’ll have to find yourself a pretty lady to ask.”

  It wasn’t as if she were ugly; she wasn’t. But pretty? Not really, if she was honest with herself, and she always tried to be. She was plain at best. She had probably come closest to pretty while she was living with Tighe, and was still attempting to keep herself up although she’d started neglecting some of the little things in this out-of-the-way town. No more mani-pedis. No more nylons or uncomfortably high-heeled shoes or slathering on makeup every morning. There was no need.

  After finding out that Tighe had been cheating on her for more than a year – and right under her nose at that – she had sworn off of men entirely and decided to live for herself. No excuses, no more looking for Mr. Right or even Mr. Right Now. She could live fine without a man, and intended to do just that. Besides, she was just wary enough – even with Tighe – that she’d never really trusted any man enough to tell him what she really wanted out of a relationship. She couldn’t imagine starting now, especially not with a man who – based upon his reproachful look at her disparaging comment about herself – honestly looked like he wouldn’t hesitate to tip her over his lap if she said or did something he didn’t cotton to. The very thought sent a crimson flush across her face and chest. She tried and failed to swallow down the lump of pure desire that had somehow lodged in her throat.

  As she watched a thick eyebrow rise towards his hairline, she couldn’t suppress a delicate shudder; her nipples remained embarrassingly, noticeably rock-hard beneath her blouse.

  “I am asking a pretty lady,” he said firmly, taking another step towards her, soft voice belying the steel beneath it. “I’m asking you, Tess Martin – and I think you should consider your answer more carefully this time, because another one like that and you could find yourself in a heap of trouble.”

  Chapter 2

  Sean liked the way those unusually-colored eyes went wide when she was startled, and he was glad she was taking him seriously, if only unconsciously. He wasn’t kidding when he said she’d get herself into trouble with him by running herself down, and she’d find that out soon enough if she agreed to date him.

  By now, most women had backed well away from him, sputtering and stammering inanities and letting him know unequivocally that they wouldn’t be at all interested in the type of relationship he wanted, not that he had cause in the past decade to make such bold statements. He had never expected to be in a situation again where he would even glance at another woman. It had been years since... Even now he couldn’t think about it. Women like he wanted – submissive women – didn’t grow on trees. And Sean wasn’t a man to settle. He’d told himself he’d not try again until he came across a woman who not only would yield to his natural dominance, but would crave it.

  But there was something about the woman standing in front of him that he just couldn’t ignore – especially since she hadn’t retreated an inch as he’d slowly and deliberately come closer. Even more intriguing, she didn’t appear to be in the least outraged by his suggestion that she would find herself in some sort of trouble if she continued to act in a way that he had prohibited. Instead, those impudent nipples of hers had begun to press just that much more against the confines of her pretty pink blouse, the pupils in those big round eyes had dilated just that much more, and he could see that she was already breathing rapidly as she stood there, gazing at him, as if waiting for him to do something.

  “I want to take you out to dinner tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up around seven.”

  He watched her bite that full lower lip.

  “I can’t,” came the soft reply.

  “And why not?” Sean didn’t alter his commanding tone. If there was a valid reason why she couldn’t go out with him, he wanted to know what it was.

  “The store doesn’t close until eight.”

  “Eight it is then.” Before he could stop himself, he leaned down just a bit and pressed his lips to hers in a deliberately gentle kiss. Then, before she could really react to what he’d done, executed a perfect about-face and sauntered out the door.

  Tess wasn’t exactly sure just what had transpired in the past few minutes. Somehow, she’d gotten herself a date for tomorrow night, and she was quite sure she really didn’t want one, especially not with a man who seemed to wear a cloak of dominance as if it were a second skin. She’d never indulged that hidden side of her desire and now that it stared her in the eye, she wasn’t at all sure she should pursue it – at least not with a man like Sean Maddox. She knew instinctively that he wouldn’t shy away from the role she had envisioned for the lover in her lifetime of haunting late-night fantasies.

  But if not him, who else was going to satisfy what she’d come to realize was her ultimate craving to be sternly, but lovingly, kept in line? And now that he was gone and she had time to think, the uppermost thought in her mind was that she should chase after him and tell him in no uncertain terms that she was most definitely not going to go out with him.

  Unfortunately, her feet steadfastly refused to listen to her head, and the shop suddenly got busy, so she didn’t have time to dwell on the possible consequences of dating Mr. Sean Maddox, at least not until she got home that night, and the memories of their highly charged encounter came flooding back.

  Exhausted from a long day’s work, she simply undressed and crawled into bed. The covers only seemed to accelerate the agitated feelings he stirred within her, so she kicked th
em off, her legs moving restlessly as she replayed every millisecond of that first meeting over and over in her mind. Had she mistaken what she’d heard from him? Was she reading what she wanted into the situation rather than seeing what was really there? She’d thought that the look in his eyes and the sound of his voice were unmistakable, but time and worry had eaten away at her impressions until doubt had crept in, and she was unsure of anything after that point except that he made her unquenchably horny.

  Her small hand moved towards the crux of her thighs, but she stopped short of touching herself, her body already arching in anticipation towards her fingers, but she was not quite able to make herself do what she really wanted, for some reason. Instead she huffed and groaned and turned onto her side, dragging the sheet up from the tangle it had made at her feet and clutching it around her neck while she tried to will herself not to think of her moist, throbbing loins.

  “You drive a Miata?” he’d asked, his tone a bit strained.

  Tess was instantly on alert for some reason, having been lulled into a sense of security by his relative affability while they were driving to the small Mexican place he’d recommended after picking her up from the shop. They’d been talking about cars when she’d begun telling him about her aging Miata, and how she’d probably have to take it to him for a check sooner than later.

  “A green Miata with the rear fender hanging by a thread and one taillight out?” he prompted when she didn’t answer him immediately, sounding angry, somehow, for no discernible reason she could fathom.

  “Yes, that’s it.” How was it that he knew her car to a T when she knew he’d never seen it? “Why?”

  “And you live out on Steven’s Road?”

  She nodded. They had found out earlier that they didn’t live very far from each other, although she knew her place was much smaller than his.

  He leaned forward, deliberately occupying four-fifths of the small café table and placing himself so close in front of her that she could smell the coffee on his breath. “Because I drive a big truck. A big blue truck, and you pass me at hell bent for leather nearly every morning, whether there’s a double yellow line or not, that’s why,” he ground out.

  Tess’s hand went to her mouth, and she found she was having a hard time not laughing, which she suspected might not be the best response. “Oh dear. You’re the jerk in the truck that I curse out,” the damning words were already out of her mouth, so she finished the thought, “every morning for going so bloody slow.”

  “That is going to stop, now. Immediately.” There was a muscle ticking in his jaw, and even though she’d only known him for a very short time, she knew he meant business. “You had better not let me catch you passing anyone where there’s a double yellow line ever again. Understand?”

  Quite sure she didn’t want to hear the implied “or else,” or anything about his intentions if he saw her do what he’d just expressly forbidden, Tess grabbed a hold of her sense of humor and nodded enthusiastically.

  “Good.” Sean cleared his throat and leaned back a bit, knowing he’d just brought the intensity of the date, which he had intended to be much lighter, up at least a dozen notches.

  Tess was relieved that he had apparently forgotten entirely that she’d also flipped him off every morning, and she was in no hurry to remind him. He was already getting a little too close to her fantasies. She had never really considered the idea that she might stumble upon someone in real life who had the same unique interests. She wasn’t really sure what to make of him, although the very idea that he might actually spank her caused her to shift awkwardly in her seat, as if he’d already warmed her bottom before they came to the restaurant.

  He was a perfect gentleman the rest of the evening, to the point that she was almost disappointed when he walked her to her door. He had been so reserved all evening that she was on the verge of offering him her hand, and it looked as if he was just going to give her a platonic goodnight kiss. He stood with her on the stoop, both of them bathed in the glow of the porch light she’d left on for herself.

  Sean didn’t intend to settle for that. He’d spent the entire evening doing his best to suppress the impulse to reach over and lift her out of her seat to plop her down on his lap in front of God and everyone in the small restaurant. On it, because they were in a public situation. Over it would come later, he’d already promised himself.

  They had thoroughly enjoyed talking about how much they both enjoyed the ocean and swimming and traveling and a good steak, as well as Quentin Tarantino movies, especially Inglorious Basterds. Their tastes in television coincided nicely too; Shameless and Walking Dead were high on each of their lists, although Tess had argued that this season wasn’t anywhere near as good – or as plausible, if that was really a consideration in that type of program – as last year’s.

  Sean admitted that he hadn’t much considered her point. He’d confessed that he liked both of the strong male leads, and the fact that they got to kill the undead bad guys – a lot. He also allowed as how he had gotten really hooked on Boardwalk Empire, too, and enjoyed watching it along with the Ken Burns series on Prohibition, but Tess had never really been able to get into the storyline. She was willing to attempt it again, though, and he liked that she was open to trying things she wasn’t certain about.

  But now she was standing in front of him, in that cute, slightly hesitant way she had, looking up at him as if she was half worried he was going to kiss her, and half worried he wasn’t.

  He dispelled all doubt almost immediately by using his crooked index finger to tip her face up just a bit, then settled his mouth onto hers – gently, very gently at first, giving her time to become a bit accustomed to him – then slanting his lips across hers, feeling her mouth open just slightly and boldly taking that small advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth unapologetically, his big hand coming up to cup the back of her head; big, rough fingers immediately engulfed and entwined in layers of silky, reddish brown hair that seemed to curl around them, as if inviting them to stay a while.

  Tess couldn’t think. She couldn’t even remember to breathe, and ended up gasping for breath when he finally pulled slightly away, pressing his forehead to hers and saying in a very raspy tone that conveyed that he was not asking, “Invite me in.”

  Normally, Tess would balk at the idea that some man she barely knew was demanding to be allowed into her home. She didn’t play those kinds of games. She’d never slept with a man on the first date in her life and she didn’t intend to start now, and she felt he had a right to know that, even if it meant that he left her worked up and frustrated on her front porch.

  “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  He didn’t seem to bat an eyelash at that. “No, you’re not,” he agreed, as if he was telling her instead of the other way around.

  Although she desperately wanted to know why he was asking to come in if he didn’t intend to press her for sex, Tess decided she didn’t want to mess up a good thing and turned to fumble with her keys in the lock.

  Finally, since she was getting nowhere fast, he took the keys from her and opened it in seconds himself, standing to one side to allow her to enter first like a true gentleman. Her house was small but cute, decorated in a very feminine fashion in pale pinks and sea foam greens, with lots of plants and family photos adding to the comfortable ambiance. He felt immediately at home there, like he hadn’t anywhere else for a very long time, and once he’d shut the door and locked it behind him, he came to take her back into his arms, only this time he didn’t kiss her.

  Instead, his lips nibbled almost playfully around her ear, tugging gently at it until he finally whispered, “You have been very naughty, you know.”

  Sean felt her tense in his arms and simply held her, fully prepared to release her if she let loose with an indignant scream or began to struggle in earnest to get away. He had absolutely no interest in forcing anything about himself on anyone.

  But he thought he had read her right, and h
er response to his occasional verbal forays in that direction had assured him that he was indeed on the right track. She was, in fact, neither screaming nor trying to escape his embrace. Instead, she had become stock-still, like a rabbit that senses the presence of a predator. The comparison was more accurate than she could know.

  In a tone surprisingly soft and gentle, he informed her as he began to pull her inexorably closer against him, “You see, I remember that you pass me every morning in a great hurry, when it’s clearly not safe to do so–”

  Her head, with its heavy curtain of gorgeous hair, came up immediately as she felt the need to defend herself against his damning statements. “I am a very careful driver, and I always make sure there’s plenty of room to pass you!” She sounded downright insulted.

  “Whether you have determined that it’s safe is irrelevant.” There was the steel she’d felt was always waiting to underscore his statements, no matter how tender his tone. “The law forbids passing on a double yellow line, even if you knew there was no traffic coming in the other lane for the next ten miles, doesn’t it?”

  Tess frowned so severely that he found it hard not to chuckle at her, but he managed to keep himself under control. “Well, I suppose if you put it that way,” she agreed with obvious reluctance.

  “And although I don’t believe that there are any laws against directing obscene gestures at other drivers–”

  Damn! He had remembered! She began worrying her lower lip again, not daring to peek up at him.

  “I don’t consider that to be acceptable behavior for a lady.”

  Tess did lift her head at that, opening her mouth to reply something about how sauces for geese and ganders ought to be pretty much the same, but he beat her to it. “Or a gentleman, for that matter.”

  “But–”

  She was never able to finish that sentence, because as he was talking; he had dropped gracefully down onto the subtly-patterned loveseat behind him, bringing her down with him – not to sit down beside him, as she’d assumed, but instead to be carefully, firmly positioned over his lap, which she was humiliated to find gave him a bird’s eye view of her much-too-ample bottom as it was forced into embarrassing prominence.