“Escape.”
“From what?”
He glanced from side to side, bowing his arms as if to encompass more than the space around him.
“Do you really have to ask?” He returned his gaze to her. “There are very few things in this world capable of providing a distraction from what goes on within these walls.”
“So, you’re in it for the sex?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “Boundless…mind-shattering…physically devastating sex.”
As he’d rattled off the list, his eyes had lit from within, and Ephie realized what she’d imagined to be a trick of her mind the night before was thrillingly real.
“I see,” she squeaked.
David quirked a brow.
“Do you?”
“Of course.” She cleared her throat. “But how…I mean…How do you do that without, you know, feelings?”
“There are feelings, but they’re…regulated.”
“How?”
“I have rules.”
“Like…?”
“Well, for instance, it’s agreed from the start, when the class ends so does the affair.”
“An expiration date?”
“Yes, in a manner of speaking. I’ve found it helps to keep things simple. No surprises, no drawn-out goodbyes.”
“No complications.”
“Exactly.”
“But, what about last night? You didn’t tell me any of this. If we hadn’t been interrupted…” She trailed off as an unsettling thought occurred to her. “You’ve never had any intention of sleeping with me.”
“No. I haven’t.”
“But why?”
“Because you’re not the only one who’s been listening in class.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “I know you think a casual affair is exactly what you need, but I’m very good at reading between the lines too. You’ve been hardwired to make emotional connections. Having a purely physical relationship is simply not in your nature.”
“Then why meet me last night? Drive me home? That kiss?”
“Honestly.” He lowered his head. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” she drawled skeptically. “How very convenient.”
He looked up at her. “Nothing about last night was planned, Ephie, least of all kissing you.”
“But you didn’t kiss me.” She remembered the look of surprise on his face as she’d strained to find his mouth with her own. “I kissed you.”
“That’s true.”
Deep disappointment and latent humiliation combined to bring Ephie’s blood to a simmer. Slowly, she stood, peering down at him along the length of her nose.
“What am I doing here?”
“Your car—”
“You could have arranged to have it returned. I’m sure you could have come up with a convincing excuse. You didn’t have to let me come here and be…be…”
“Ephie…”
“You know, you really are an arrogant ass if you think a few paragraphs have given you some great insight into who I am. You think you know me? You don’t know anything,” she sputtered with indignation. “I’ve been using you for sex for years, David Briar. That’s right, ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve been picturing you when I touch myself. The man who arranged my grandmother’s funeral! How sick is that?” She kept her gaze on his as he got to his feet. He towered over her, but she continued, undaunted. “I just realized some part of me must have sensed your nature…because never once have I imagined tender kisses or whispered words of love. No, with you it’s always been anonymous and twisted…alleyways and park benches…the bathroom of an art gallery.
“Oh, let’s not forget one of my favorites. You’ll get a kick out of this, I’m sure…the circulation desk at the library.” She closed her eyes and the often conjured image emerged on cue, Ephie caught up in its familiar seduction. “Waiting to check out, I hear footsteps echoing behind me. I don’t know why, but I know it’s you. I don’t turn around, and you get so close…I can feel you”—she tipped her head to the side, curving her fingers over the exposed skin—“warm puffs of air on my neck. You’re breathing heavily, like your heart is racing as fast as mine. I hear a cough, the rustle of a page, and I know we’re not alone. But I don’t care. I want you to touch me. Want it with all of my being. And when you finally do, you’re rough—demanding—pushing me down onto the desk, shoving my skirt up around my waist, nearly tearing my panties…and then you…you…”
She opened her eyes as her narration stuttered to an end, the grim set of David’s mouth and jaw telling her she’d revealed her secret for nothing. Grabbing at the strip of blue silk dangling in front of her, she jerked him forward.
“And you,” she spat, every word spiked with frustration. “You never so much as loosen your tie.”
David caught at her wrists and hauled her up against him, the hard evidence of his arousal firm against her belly. He wanted her, but he’d made up his mind. Made it up for both of them, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. They stood staring at one another, locked in some bizarre sexual stalemate, until the absurdity of the situation became too much for her.
And Ephie couldn’t help it. She giggled.
Sexual tension sparked the air, stealing the oxygen from around them. Her lips parted as the air from her lungs rushed to fill the void. A pulse ticked furiously at David’s temple, his pupils expanding until she only saw black. And then, without a word, the principal player of Ephie’s dirtiest daydreams turned and hauled her, none too gently, from the room.
Chapter 9
EPHIE stared into the dark from the doorway, David behind her, his arms wrapping her waist as if he thought she might try to escape. Shards of colored moonlight streamed through a pair of stained-glass windows and slanted across the hardwood floors. Like the opening scene of an old-time movie, the room faded into focus. On her left, a gorgeous fireplace came into view. Its impressive mantel sheltered a cozy clutch of armchairs nesting an oversize coffee table. And then, slowly, the far side of the room was revealed. Her gaze traveled the width and breadth of floor-to-ceiling recessed shelving stuffed to bursting with antique bindings before finally coming to rest on the likely explanation for David’s wicked grin—a heavily carved, expansive mahogany desk worthy of center stage at the grandest metropolitan library.
“So, is there some obscure word or phrase for this?”
“Providence,” he whispered, kicking the door shut behind them.
She went up on her toes, spinning as the wood slammed home. Grabbing him by the lapels, she hauled him closer, his lips bumping against hers as they met. His short grunt of surprise became a soulful moan as he pulled her into his embrace, treating Ephie to the full extent of his practiced attentions.
Her bones became the first casualty. As she melted against him, he caught her up in his arms and whisked her across the room. Her bottom met with the top of the desk she’d been admiring moments before, the sound of items falling to the floor echoing in her ears as she was laid out on its unyielding surface. Caution tingled at the base of her skull, a remnant of her not-so-distant past. Too soon! Too fast! Too much! But as her limbs tensed, David slipped his tongue between her lips, diffusing the clanging warnings. Angling over her on straightened arms, he kissed her until her thoughts got no further than finding relief for the cloying heat building between her thighs.
As if he knew, he lifted his head, giving her a devilish grin before dipping out of view to nuzzle the hollow where her neck met her collarbone. Sighing, Ephie tangled her fingers in his hair, surprised by the tender interlude. But when she tilted her head to the side to grant him better access, she learned his true intention. He caught the sensitive skin in the nip of his teeth, biting and sucking as she bowed beneath him, her knees bending in toward her chest. Her thighs pressed tight to his hips.
He moved over her, shoving clothing out of the way, any bit of exposed skin in danger of being ki
ssed or licked or nibbled. By the time he got to the hem of her skirt, Ephie was nearly mindless with need. But when he began to kiss his way up her inner thigh, she reached for him, fingers threading through his hair.
Oral sex didn’t appeal to her. The act struck her as dirty, bordering on lewd. She simply couldn’t believe any man actually wanted to put his face between a woman’s legs. And since she regularly came during intercourse, it seemed gratuitous. None of the men she’d been with had ever pushed her when she’d objected. But David—he simply ignored her, impatiently pulling her panties to the side as he lowered his head.
The sweep and swirl of his tongue dissolved her resistance like sugar in a summer rain, words of dissuasion lost in a lusty gasp. Stunned by sensations mystical in their intensity, she sprawled before him, electricity tripping along her nerve endings. Blood pounded through her veins. Each deep, moaning breath swelled her lungs until she worried her skin would fail to contain her.
Sudden and furious, her orgasm caught her off guard. She cried out, letting go of David’s head to grab at his wrists as he skimmed his hands over her. Palms covering her breasts, he held her in check, leaving her defenseless against a clever tongue seemingly intent on drawing every last tremor of pleasure from her.
As the thudding pulses eased to a sensual thrum, Ephie lifted her head, taking in the landscape of her pillaged body. Her nipples peaked from beneath crumpled layers of satin and cashmere, her tummy laid bare. Skirt bunched at her hips, the tops of her navy, thigh-high stockings stood out in stark relief against her skin. And, like any good soldier of lust, she’d come with her ankle boots on, the state of partial undress undeniably sexier than if David had stripped her naked.
Heart pounding, she sought the architect of her ruin. He remained crouched between her legs. As her gaze met his, he pressed his lips to her. Ephie closed her eyes at the intimate farewell. When she looked again, he was on his feet, smirking. And then David made a spectacular show of straightening his tie.
Ephie collapsed with laughter, latching onto his shoulders as he crawled over her. Taking in the warmth in his smiling brown eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder how at ease she felt with him—this man she hardly knew. Could he be right? Had the prospect of sex for the sake of sex somehow set her free?
As she quieted, his expression changed, hardened. She remembered how he’d used words like shattering and devastating, and a quiver of apprehension ascended her spine. He lowered his head, claiming her mouth in a demanding kiss which tasted of her. She grabbed at him, but he evaded her grasping fingers, pulling away, and with a throaty chuckle, flipped her onto her belly.
Ephie brought her arms up in surrender, pressing her palms to the cool wood on which she lay. Panting quietly, she listened to the sounds of David preparing to take her. The tell-tale clink of a belt buckle, a zipper’s droning descent, the muted thump of cloth tossed to the floor. At the distinct timbre of a foil wrapper being torn open, Ephie rose up onto her hands and knees.
He stepped behind her, and she twisted, wanting to see him. But strong fingers prevented her, rounding her nape and pressing her cheek to the desk top. Her bottom jutted into the air, her hips rocking in shameless invitation. What had he done to her? In minutes, he’d perverted her desire into a need so dire she imagined herself capable of almost anything to see it satisfied.
Positioning himself at her opening, he continued to hold her in check, advancing in increments as she strained against the yoke. He filled her completely, every crease and angle engaged by his slick erection, her gasps and moans echoing in the otherwise silent room.
He pulled almost all the way out and then paused. She clenched and wriggled, desperate to entice him to return, but he held fast, denying everything. Ephie whimpered in protest, and then he slammed into her, robbing her of breath. Her thoughts scattered, snowflakes dispersed by a wintery gale. Before she could gather them up, he repeated the process, making her throb and snivel before crashing into her once again.
Adrift, she reached between her legs, grabbing onto his thighs and digging her nails into his flesh. He didn’t react beyond driving into her, his quickening thrusts urging her toward another orgasm.
“Yes, again. Come for me again.”
She’d been on the edge, but his command cast her into the abyss. She cried out, a raw and feral sound she didn’t recognize.
“That’s it. That’s it, fireball.”
So, she hadn’t imagined it, the playful pet name he’d tossed at her in parting the night before, thrilling her beyond reason. Her internal muscles convulsed around him, his resonant laugh sending tremors of pleasure radiating along her nerves. Rounding her back, she ground into him, heedless of the tenderness between her thighs. He slid his hands out from under her to crisscross his fingers over her face. Eyes shuttered and mouth caged, she lifted her head, elbows locking, her spine bending low. He resumed the arduous pace, riotous sensation shuddering through her.
“David!”
Long into the night, Ephie would call his name. Never certain whether it was a plea for more…or for mercy.
Chapter 10
SHAKING her head, Ephie denied awareness and burrowed into the pillow, her hands slipping beneath its downy warmth. But a nagging at the corner of her consciousness demanded she let go of sleep. Grudgingly, she opened her eyes.
A niche backed by floor-to-ceiling windows greeted her. The aura of sunlight rimming the drawn curtains revealed a claw-footed, watermelon velvet settee. Her gaze danced over its whitewashed frame before settling on the carved occasional chair which rounded out the seating area. Both pieces had to be at least a hundred years old.
Puzzled, Ephie rolled onto her back. The wooden canopy she discovered overhead—supported by four spiraling posts, each capped by what appeared to be an upside-down pine cone—did nothing to dispel her growing sense of displacement, nor did the expansive tray ceiling with its broad carved molding nor the subtle pattern of the muted green-on-green wallpaper. In the space beyond the foot of the bed, she found the match to the chair in the sitting area. It had been paired with a drawing table. A drawing table!
That settled it. She’d obviously been transported back in time. Any minute, an improbably sexy rake would barge through the door, bare-chested and wearing a pair of leather britches, to have his way with her. She smiled at the whimsical vision and then stretched beneath the weight of the embroidered comforter, discovering she was quite naked and shockingly sore…literally everywhere.
And it all came back to her in a rush. It had been lust, not time-travel, which had landed her in a strange bed. The moral standards her grandmother had worked so hard to instill hadn’t stood a chance. But morning had come and, with it, misgivings. Shame, hot and creeping, prickled Ephie’s skin.
A distant creak interrupted her thoughts. A second, nearer, brought her gaze to the door. The groaning of floorboards had her gingerly pulling herself up to sitting. She finished tucking the sheet beneath her arms to cover her nakedness just as the door opened.
Gone was the suit and tie, no shoes or socks or thin leather belt in sight. Only a well-worn pair of button-fly jeans perched dangerously low on his hips. If David had stood naked before her, Ephie doubted the effect could have been any less scandalous. As he walked toward her, she remembered video she’d seen of great cats prowling in the wild. An ease and control which came from natural confidence, an immutable sense of purpose. Flashing a slanted grin, he bent to place the breakfast tray he carried on the bedside table, and Ephie clutched at the covers, barely resisting the urge to draw them up under her chin. Resentment rolled over her along with the scents of cinnamon and coffee. There was no indignity in him. He’d woken up and known two things, sexual satisfaction and hunger.
“Good morning.”
He leaned toward her, but instead of meeting him in a kiss, she dropped her gaze.
“Morning,” she managed around the lump which had formed in her throat.
If he noticed h
er reticence, he didn’t comment. From the corner of her eye, she saw him give a slight nod, as if he’d expected her reaction. And then he straightened, turned, and sauntered toward the windows.
Ephie looked up at the squawk of metal over metal, squinting as light flooded the room. She watched David move to stand in front of the second set of drapes, her eyes adjusting as he reached up and jerked apart the heavy drapes. The complex play of muscle beneath skin sent her pulse racing, her lips parting on a shaky breath.
She’d dismissed his claims as arrogance, but David hadn’t just made her feel desirable. He’d made her feel deliciously wicked. She’d arched and mewled for him like a B-movie sex kitten. Free of expectations. Uninhibited by judgment. The sex every bit as boundless, mind-shattering, and physically devastating as promised.
And she wanted more, much more. But becoming further involved with the man would be utter insanity. He would wreck her in ways she couldn’t conceive. She should take her one night of mindless passion and get the atch-e-double-hockey-sticks out!
“David?” she whispered.
He turned, the remarkable cut of his obliques snagging her gaze as he made his way back to her, forcing it lower the nearer he came. When he came to a stop by the side of the bed, she saw the top rivet of his fly had come undone. Tufts of tightly coiled hair exposed above the denim.
“Hungry, fireball?”
The nickname, repeated so many times during the moonlit night, acquired a shade of vulgarity in the harsh light of day. Nevertheless, Ephie found herself squeezing her eyes shut against the toe-curling desire which ricocheted through her, annoyed as much by her Pavlovian response as his gently mocking tone.
“Stop calling me that!”
Her outburst met with silence. She looked up to find him considering her with curiosity.
“What is it?”
“Nothing! I just—I don’t care for being called by some generic pet name you’ve probably used with I don’t even want to know how many women.”
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