Moon Fever

by Susan Sizemore, Maggie Shayne, Lori Handeland

  He smiled. “Me, too. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

  “But Jimmy, you’re only—”

  “You’re thinking again.”

  She closed her eyes and wondered why the hell not indulge herself, just this once? They were both adults. She was a woman, a free, responsible, smart, independent woman. A woman who tended to fall from one lousy relationship to the next without much time in between. But this wasn’t a relationship. This was just…this. So why the hell not?

  Working up every nerve in her body, she said, “Then make me stop thinking.”

  He swore under his breath and kissed her again. Without breaking the kiss, he reached back to close the door. She heard the lock turn, and then he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the house, up the stairs. Carried her. She didn’t think any man had ever carried her anywhere.

  Oh, God, what was she doing?

  Jimmy lowered her onto her bed and pushed her T-shirt up, running his hands over her breasts despite the bra that stood in the way. She tingled all over.

  Oh, God, this would be good. Please, let it be good, she thought.

  He pushed his hands inside the bra, tugged her breasts out the top, and brushed his fingers over her nipples a few times before squeezing and kneading them. And then he lowered his head to attack them with his mouth, one after the other, sliding his hands lower, over her belly, to the button fly of her jeans. He undid them and wandered inside, touched her, rubbed her.

  Oh, yeah. It would be good.

  He had her closer to orgasm than good old Brian had gotten her in their entire time together, closer than Shawn had in their entire marriage, and he wasn’t even inside her yet. Damn, he knew his stuff. She wanted it to be good for him, too. Female pride dictated that. So she reached for his jeans, rubbed the sizable bulge in them, started working on the snap and zipper, but he covered her hand with his and stopped sucking long enough to kiss a path to her ear and whisper, “Not yet, baby. Let me take care of you first. Just relax. Relax and feel.”

  “Huh?”

  He didn’t take time to explain himself. Since when did any man want to take care of her first in bed? This just didn’t compute.

  Jimmy kissed his way back to her nipple and sucked it in. He deepened the thrust of his fingers and added a swirling and pressing of his thumb right where it counted. The sensations that roiled up in her body shut her mind up once and for all. She let go of inhibitions, of doubts, of thought, and moved against his hand, arching and pressing to tell him the way it felt best, and he paid attention, responding exactly the way she needed. She clasped his head with her hands, and he sucked harder, nipped and tugged and flicked his tongue over her nipples, and she heard herself whimper and cry as her body strained. Let it happen, please let it happen, she all but prayed. She was so close, so damn close, and so used to disappointment.

  “Relax,” he whispered around her breast. “I can do this all night, and I’m not stopping until you get there. So just relax. Don’t rush.”

  In response to that assurance, she stopped trying to hurry, stopped straining for the peak, and just let him work her and work her. And when she started to shake, he intensified everything. Harder, deeper, faster. His teeth bit down a little harder, and she clasped his head so hard she thought she would crush his skull.

  And then she was exploding, and he still didn’t let up. He kept going all the way to the very edge, pushing her, playing her, only easing back when the spasms started to ebb.

  She came back to herself slowly, to find herself trembling and moaning as he curled onto the bed beside her, folded her into his arms, and held her warm and firm against him. He stroked her hair with one hand. “Now sleep.”

  She was so incredibly relaxed, so sated in every way, that she couldn’t help but do exactly as he told her. Between the heavy meal and the wine and the shattering orgasm, her body was completely sated, warm, relaxed. She drifted to sleep right there, in Jimmy Lipton’s arms.

  And that was where she woke. Right there, snuggled up against him, her head on his chest, his arms wrapped tight around her, warmer and more cozy than she’d ever been in her life.

  And mortified beyond belief. God, she’d had her first nonself-induced orgasm with a kid half her age. Okay, more than half, but still. And she hadn’t even reciprocated. Oh, yeah, she was going straight to hell.

  She lifted her head to find his eyes open and focused on her. He smiled, the sexiest sleepy smile she’d ever seen in her life, and her tummy tightened in pure animal lust. What the hell was happening to her? She’d never felt this kind of sexual attraction for a man. Never.

  “Good morning, sexy,” he said.

  She turned her head slightly, sure she had morning breath. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.”

  “About what?”

  Closing her eyes, she rolled onto her back and tugged the sheet up over her. “About last night, obviously.”

  “Why? Wasn’t it good for you?”

  “It was incredible.” That came out as a whisper as her eyes drifted closed and her body heated all over again. But she popped her eyes open and attempted to speak in a normal tone. “I mean, of course, it was incredible. But I didn’t—I mean, you didn’t—”

  “I will next time.”

  “That’s why I’m apologizing. I mean, you should have, because there isn’t going to be a next time.”

  “Don’t hate me for saying so, but isn’t that what you said about this time?”

  He was teasing, smiling in a soft, sexy way while trailing his fingertips over her cheek. “I mean it, Jimmy. This—it can’t happen again.”

  “Oh.” He looked so disappointed she had to avert her eyes.

  “I mean, it just doesn’t make sense. What would people think?”

  “I’ve never been much for living according to what other people think. I didn’t think you were, either.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Yeah? I don’t know if that’s true. You’re dating that jerk Brian, and no one seems to think much of that choice.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “Dating a man my own age, no matter how big a jerk he is, is socially acceptable. Dating a kid I used to sit for is not. God, I feel like one of those teachers you see on the news.”

  “I’m not a kid, Caroline.”

  She looked at him and knew he was right. He wasn’t a kid. He was a man, inside and out, and so far, he seemed to be twice the man Brian or Shawn had ever been. Seemed to be being the operative phrase, of course.

  Because maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see, or worse, what he wanted her to see. And come to think of it, how the hell did he know about Brian, anyway? Damn her brother and his big fat mouth.

  He leaned in and kissed her, and her entire body went into meltdown. Thoughts dissolved. She heated and trembled when he pulled her hips against his and whispered that he was throbbing for her. When he finally lifted his head, her heart spoke before her mind could stop it. “Well…maybe…just once more.”

  “At least once more.” He kissed her again, then rolled out of bed, wearing only his shorts. She didn’t remember him undressing. In spite of herself, she couldn’t help but lie there and watch him pull his jeans on and wonder how the hell she’d ended up half naked in bed with a guy who looked like he did. Flat belly, hard thighs, ass to die for, and a chest that made her loins ache. Damn, he was hot.

  What the hell did he want with her?

  “I’m gonna hit the shower,” he said. “And, uh, you might want to get dressed. Much as I hate to suggest that.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “I think your brother just pulled in.”

  “Shit!” She dove out of bed, never mind that she was stark naked from the waist up and her jeans were undone and slept in. She started grabbing up her clothes, then panicked at the thought of Peter seeing her in the same things she’d had on last night. But there was no time. She did up her jeans and was struggling to fasten the bra
behind her back when she realized Jimmy was still standing there, staring at her. She looked up, saw the look in his eyes. He looked at her as if he liked looking at her, and that made her go warm all over, even though she doubted it was for real.

  But hell, he was consistent, if nothing else. You’d think he would have slipped by now. Revealed something of the toad behind the prince mask. But so far, he hadn’t.

  You don’t suppose he could be for real, do you?

  She frowned as she tried to answer the question her mind had posed.

  “Caroline, babe? Your brother?” Jimmy waved a hand before her eyes as if trying to wake a hypnosis victim.

  She snapped out of it. “Will you get out of my bedroom, already? You want my brother to go home for his shotgun?”

  He grinned at her and walked into the bathroom. When the door closed behind him, she finished fastening her bra and yanked a T-shirt from a drawer, leaving her baby T on the floor but kicking it and Jimmy’s discarded shirt under the bed on her way out of the bedroom. She ran down the hall to the spare bedroom, yanked the covers back, and rolled back and forth on the bed a few times to make it look slept in.

  Peter was pounding on the door now. Hell. She headed into the hall, glancing back into her bedroom on the way past, just to see if any telltale signs remained. The bed was a mess, but that wasn’t really a dead giveaway, was it?

  Trotting down the stairs, she spotted Jimmy’s backpack on the floor near the door. She ducked, grabbed it, raced back upstairs and into her room, yanked open the bathroom door to drop it inside, and froze there. He was out of the shower, dripping and naked, and the best thing she’d ever looked at in her entire life.

  She actually felt dizzy, he looked so good. God damn, the man was a freaking hallucinogenic.

  She swore, dropped the bag, and backed out. Then she tried to wipe the lust off her face and hurried back downstairs to open the door for her brother.

  Peter looked her up and down and said, “What the hell did Jimmy do to you last night, sis?”

  Her jaw dropped, and she stood there searching for words.

  “You never sleep this late.” He brushed past her, heading for the kitchen. “Got any coffee made yet?”

  “Uh, no, I was just about to put on a pot.” Relief almost made her limp as she followed him to the kitchen. She passed a mirror and caught a glimpse of herself. Damn. Her hair was all over, her eyes were glassy—almost sparkling—and her cheeks were so damn pink she didn’t recognize herself. It showed, dammit. How could Peter not see it? She was practically radiating sexual satisfaction.

  She smoothed her hair with her hands and went into the kitchen, busied herself making coffee and keeping her back to her brother while he sat in a chair at the table.

  “Where is Jimmy, anyway? He’s usually up at the crack of dawn.”

  “In the shower, I guess.” Even as she said it, his footsteps were coming down the stairs, and then he was in the kitchen, and she glanced his way. He met her eyes and smiled, and she wished he wouldn’t, because it was the kind of a smile that spoke volumes. It said, I made you come last night, and I’m going to do it again. Where did he get off, giving her that kind of smile in front of her brother? And why did it make her knees weak?

  “ ‘Morning, Caroline. ‘Morning, Peter.”

  “ ‘Morning,” Peter said. “Anything interesting happen last night?”

  She gaped, but Jimmy had more sense than she did at the moment. “Not another peep from the intruder.” Then he glanced at Caroline. “Thanks for the use of the guest room. I made up the bed so nice and neat no one would ever know it had been slept in.”

  No you didn’t, she thought. I messed up the bed so anyone would know it had been slept in. Please, Peter, don’t go upstairs and check, please, please, please.

  “You know, sis, staring at the coffee pot isn’t going to make it brew any faster.”

  She pasted what she hoped was a casual smile on her face and turned to face her brother. “I’m just dying for a cup, that’s all. Maybe I’ll run upstairs and shower myself, and it’ll be ready by the time I come back.”

  “Okay, kid,” Peter said. “I brought my toolbox and some new locks. Jim and I will grab a cup and get to work on installing them while you do whatever it is you women do in the shower that takes so long.”

  “Cool. Help yourself to some breakfast if you want.”

  “Right. I imagine you’ve got a regular feast full of possibilities in your fridge.”

  She knew he was exaggerating and rolled her eyes. “I’ve got…stuff.”

  Peter looked at Jim. “Eggs, probably. A couple of yogurts, some soy milk, and a box of microwave popcorn. Bet you five bucks.”

  “I’ll take that bet, as I know for a fact she has corn flakes.”

  She closed her eyes and left the room, wondering how she could ever be around her brother again without giving it away. But maybe not. Maybe he was dense enough not to see it. He was male, after all.

  Mary wasn’t, though. She would see it. God, what was she going to do about Mary?

  Chapter 4

  A fter the locks were installed, the guys said they had some errands to run. She didn’t ask what kind, didn’t really care, but she did notice that Jimmy left his bag behind. Which suggested he would be returning tonight. Which made her want to die from the mingled apprehension, excitement, nervousness, and heat that invaded her at the very thought.

  She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, because Brian was knocking on her door twenty minutes after Jimmy and Peter had left.

  Brian. Her boyfriend. The one who never came to her house, because he was “more comfortable on his own turf.” She always went to his place. And they never went anywhere else.

  Like Vincenzo’s, for example.

  Whoa girl. Comparing the two was ridiculous. Jimmy was just sex. He couldn’t possibly be interested in anything more than that, unless he had some ulterior motive she hadn’t figured out yet. Brian was interested in sex and money. Technically, that didn’t qualify as a boyfriend, either, did it?

  So wait a sec. If she was going to be used, either way…

  Brian pounded again.

  “I’m coming, already.” Caroline crossed the room and opened the door. “This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”

  “What, I can’t pay my girl a visit now and then?”

  “Uh, well, up to now you never have.”

  He sighed, lowered his head. “Yeah, I know. I’ve just been busy.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a brutal six months for you.” She didn’t try to hide the sarcasm in her voice. He didn’t hear it, though.

  He looked past her, around the house, as if he expected to see something, but there was nothing to see. “So, you gonna let me in?”

  “Sure. C’mon in.” She stepped aside and held the door, watched him as he entered. He was a big guy, his hair a little too long. She couldn’t help mentally comparing him to Jimmy as she watched him walk through the house and plop down on the couch. No comparison, though. Jimmy was lean and tight where Brian was bulky and had the beginnings of a beer belly. Jimmy’s hair was short and neat, which she liked better than Brian’s sloppy, careless look. Jimmy even smelled better.

  Her tummy clenched in pure sexual appreciation when she thought about the way Jimmy smelled, and she bit her lip until she tasted blood to get it to stop.

  Brian glanced up at her. “What are you smiling about? Just glad to see me?”

  Not particularly, she thought. “Did you happen to bring the money you owe me?” she asked.

  “Hon, I told you, things are tight right now.”

  “Things are tight for me, too, Bri. Too tight. I could lose the house.” He sighed, and she saw the beginnings of irritation creeping into his eyes, so she decided to change the subject. Getting money out of him would be like trying to bleed a rock, anyway. “So, if not that, then what did bring you by?”

  “I wanted to see you. Thought maybe we could go out tonight, do so
mething, you know, make some plans.”

  She frowned. “We could have done that on the phone.”

  “Damn, woman, you’re downright cold this morning.”

  “Yeah, well, I have reason to be.” He was up to something. No question.

  He nodded. “I heard the cops were out here last night.”

  She raised her brows and wondered what else he’d heard. Maybe that a stranger’s car had been parked in her driveway all night long? Sure he had. He was best buds with the biker at the end of the block. Hell, she was surprised he hadn’t shown up sooner. And she wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t as concerned about losing her as he was about losing the money train he’d been riding.

  Sadly for him, she’d figured out that she could do a hell of a lot better.

  “So, what happened?” he asked.

  “Had an intruder poking around. No big deal. They took off, and the cops didn’t find anything. Peter changed all the locks this morning.”

  “Oh. You’ll have to give me a new key, then.”

  She frowned at him. Not a hint of concern for her, not even an “Are you okay?” or “Were you scared?” Much less an offer of help. God forbid he put himself out. Just a request—no, a demand—for a key. “I don’t have an extra one yet.”

  “Really? ‘Cause every lock I’ve ever seen comes with two keys.”

  “Yeah, and I gave the extra ones to Peter.”

  “Instead of me?”

  “When I call my brother, Bri, he answers the phone. Or if he doesn’t, he calls me back the minute he gets the message. If I need him, he’s here for me. I’ve never been able to say the same about you.”

  He didn’t look amused. But he digested her words and seemed to decide to ignore them. “So, what about tonight? You wanna go out?”

  “You know what? I really don’t.”

  “You don’t?” He couldn’t seem to process that. She’d never said no to him. About anything.

  And that, she thought, is part of what’s wrong with me. God, what did I ever see in this idiot that I would agree to anything he asked just to keep him coming around? Loneliness, she guessed, and the certainty that she’d never find a man who wouldn’t use her. So she’d settled.