“And you?” Luna asked, touching his face. Her chest ached for him. When he turned his face into her palm, seeking comfort instinctively—for just a fleeting moment, she thought she might start crying too.
“She didn’t know who I was when I got here, either.” He shrugged. It was forced, Luna could tell, but she let it go and didn’t press him. “So be it. Now she’s asleep and all is well and I need to get home. I’m working all three jobs tomorrow.” She sighed and tried to touch him again but this time he pulled away. “Let me drive you home.”
“I’m fine. And I need my car.”
“Let me follow you home, then.”
He laughed. “I’m fine, Luna. Go boss someone else around.”
“Let me follow you home or you’re on dish duty tomorrow,” she amended.
“Fine,” he said. “You play dirty.”
“You know it.”
Chapter Eighteen
His house was small. Small but nice. A two-story brick cottage, it was the first word that came to mind, with navy blue shutters and a navy blue door. He pulled into the driveway and she parked in front of his house. It was full on dark, past nine-thirty and the stars were out.
“You gonna follow me in and tuck me into bed?” He laughed.
Luna simply walked up the sidewalk and waited for him to unlock the door. Inside, he turned a lamp on and then hit the button for the TV. Just to fill the house with the sound of voices, she bet. It was something she’d found herself doing since Nick went with her parents.
“Can I make you something to eat?” she asked. Her eyes were ticking off the things she could see. Pictures of Adam with his family. His mom, mostly. A gorgeous woman with pale blonde hair that was probably half silver. Her big blue eyes were aware in the photos.
“I’m not an invalid.”
“I never said you were. Is that you and your sister?” she pointed to a picture of him and a stunning brunette who appeared to have the same features.
“No, closest thing I have to a sister, though. My cousin, Kami. She lives in Orlando.”
“Oh,” she said, the hope that he had some kind of support system fading swiftly. “How about your dad?”
She touched the armchair by the front door. Well worn, red and blue and green plaid. It was soft and comfortable. She imagined all his furniture was.
“I’m sure he’d like to help,” Adam said, kicking off his shoes. “But being dead really puts a crimp into that sort of thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “No need to be mean. Did you want me to make you some food, Adam?”
He was tightly caged emotions. She could see it now. He wanted to push her out and make her go so he could let it out. However that might be. She imagined some of these nice things in his home might not survive the night. Unless he had a punching bag tucked down in his basement.
“No, I do not want you to make me some food, Luna.” Under the cutting sarcasm she heard pain. Just like with Nick when he got this way, she let it go.
“Okay, is there anything I can do for you?” She was trying so very hard not to get her feelings hurt. This wasn’t about her at all. And she knew it. But something about Adam made her feel vulnerable, whether she liked it or not, and if he was cruel and cutting…it hurt her.
“No. Not from you.”
“I’ll go then.”
She’d almost turned away from him when he said, “I’m sure your date is waiting for you.”
“No. I called it off. I wasn’t interested anyway.”
“And he was such a match for you,” Adam said.
“You thought so. You’re the one who pushed me to go.” He glared at her, but his mouth had turned down in a way that she could see he was upset because it was true. “I just gave you a tiny nudge. You must have really wanted to—“
“Cut the shit,“ she said, surprising them both. “Just because you want to act like an asshole, don’t drag me down with you.”
The words were coming out by pure instinct and she watched, satisfied, as he clenched an unclenched his fists like he wanted to say something.
“So I’m an asshole?”
“You are king of the assholes,” she said. Keeping her voice low and her eyes serious.
“And you are pretty much useless, so you might as well have your temper tantrum now.” And there it was. That was what he was so worried about. There was nothing he could do about his mom. He was powerless and it was killing him. Luna watched him gauge the room, watched him search for a target. She was pretty sure he wanted to clock her for what she’d said, but knew he’d never do it. Finally, he turned, swinging blindly as a sound of pure rage ripped out of him. His hand connected with a small award on the shelf—for what, she didn’t know—and knocked it free. It shattered as he turned again and punched the wall.
The hit was jarring. She saw it rattle his arm and when the pregnant moment of violent outburst passed, she went to him and took his hand. “Did you break it?” she asked.
“No.” His blue eyes found hers. Still so much hurt and anger and frustration in them.
She forced herself to say the next part. “Can’t even do that right, hunh?” And his whole face shut down. The tiny bit of honesty he let show, clamped shut like the shell of a bivalve. He tensed, but she slammed herself against him and kissed him. Feeling the tension in his mouth with hers until she snaked her tongue out to push past his lips. Demanding the entrance of a kiss and finally getting it.
“Go home,” he growled. But his big hands were gripping her biceps hard enough to hurt and when she pressed her lower body to his, she felt the hard ridge of his cock pressing back.
“No,” she said. “I won’t go home. Not until after…”
He made a noise. A noise that was almost a sob, almost a laugh. And then he pushed her back to the wall he’d just accosted, and bit her collar bone hard enough to make her hiss. “You need to do something right, after all,“ she said.
He stilled and then he grabbed her jeans and tugged them hard enough to send the brass button flying. Adam had them down around her ass and hips in an instant and she felt the charge in air, the tingling on her skin. He turned her, pinned her, and the first blow rained down on her skin like fire.
Luna pressed her head to the cool wall and took it. The heat of his palm connecting with her skin, skittering fire along her flank. She took the next blow too, her cunt seizing up with wet anticipation as yet another fell. She could feel his palm prints rising on the skin of her ass like some magic trick. An illusion where pale skin turned pink and smooth skin became branded.
She gasped as he gave her three good swats in row. Shock bleeding into pain bleeding into pleasure. “How am I doing now?” he growled.
Her cheek kissed the smooth wall and her fingers sought something to grip. Found nothing. They curled empty and useless against the wall when he shoved his fingers into her—
almost like he was punishing her.
“I know what you’re doing, Luna,” he said. He grunted and then she heard his zipper, the whisper of his hand finding his cock. “It won’t work.” Oh but it is…
His body, bulky and looming, pressed up against her and he titled her hips with an aggressive hand. She felt teeth on the back of her neck, and then the skin all along her back erupted in tingles. He was in her in a single rough thrust, and her fingers were again crawling the wall as she panted, moving back to take him into her. Her body reacting strongly to his urgency.
Her nipples painfully hard nubs pressed to the white plaster.
“Won’t work,” he said again and she didn’t even think he knew he was saying it.
Adam laid down a few more bite marks on her shoulder and his fingers snaked around to find her clit. He rubbed her hard and no-nonsense and bit her once more. That was all it took, that clamp of teeth to flesh—the orgasm took her.
He grunted, driving into her once more so that her toes were all that touched the floor and then he pulled free, leaving her empty and gasping.
His hand
connected with her ass and she jumped. When she let out a shocked noise, he grabbed her up and hauled her up the steps. “On the bed.” His voice left little room for argument. He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.
“Spread yourself out, Luna.”
She saw the look in his eye and shook her head, suddenly afraid of his anger.
“No.”
He grabbed her arm and hauled her forward, using his strength against hers. “Yes.”
“Adam—”
“What you’re the only one who gets to express yourself? Are you afraid of me, boss lady? Are you going to back out now that you’ve poked the bear to the point of roaring?” She bit her lip and stayed still. To take it. She would trust him. He didn’t tell her to count.
Instead, she heard him muttering as he delivered the blows. “One…two…” With every blow her body bucked, instinctively seeking him out, and trying to get away from him. A paradox of motion that left her flustered and confused. And once again on the verge of orgasm.
“Ten,” he finally said and Luna heard the shuddery nature of his breath. He had to feel as she did. Full of adrenaline. On edge. Aroused to the point of irrationality.
He flipped her on her back and she didn’t let him speak. Not a lick. Luna fisted her hands in his wheat colored hair and yanked him in. He made a sound born of pain, but met her lips with an equal force to hers. She bit his lower lip, tasted his skin, and felt his big hands spread her legs wide with a rough jerk. He dragged the tip of his cock over her thumping clit and Luna thrust up to meet him. To feel him.
He teased her to the point of a sob and then found her wet entrance and drove in, holding her ass cheek in his strong hands, giving himself more leverage. More room. A chance to get deeper.
“Yes,” was all she said. It was the only word that made sense. He silenced her with another brutal kiss. His hand came up to cup her breast and pinch her. His fingers acting as a brutal clamp on that tender flesh. Luna thrust up hard and he pinched again. She came with a low cry that made him freeze–sealing that moment in time for them both.
He looked down at her, his hips rocking back and forth just enough to drive her crazy.
Luna squirmed and met his gaze, his fingers still pinching her nipple roughly.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally.
He put his head down and muttered, “Hush,” against her throat. He pinned her hands down by her hips, his hands flesh and blood bonds she doubted she could break if she tried. He rocked into her, his roughness taking on a smooth edge.
“Hush,” he said again and then, “Come for me, Luna.” He ground against her harder, his hipbone banging her clitoris, his cock working her G-spot. He knew what he was doing. Luna held her breath, trying to wait so she could come with him. But he said, “Luna” again and she lost her battle.
Coming in a long, wet, lazy spasm that left him sucking in air like a drowning man. And then he came with a grunt that kind of sounded angry and certainly sounded intense.
When he fell onto her, all of his considerable bulk pressing the air out of her, she touched him tentatively. Afraid to irritate him or bring him out of the gentle lull the sex had created. Her fingers explored the dips and hills of his well-muscled back. His face was buried against her neck and she felt him kiss her there above her pulse. It made her shiver a little, made her nipples tighten into hard little buds.
This time she was the one who got to whisper. “Better?”
* * * * *
“I should go.” She sat up, trying to put herself back together.
“Did I hurt you?” He murmured.
Luna smiled at him and answered him honestly. “Just enough.”
“Yeah?” He pushed her to her belly before she could search for her pants. His hands ran over her bottom with tenderness. It made her skin pebble and her pulse rise.
“Yeah,” she sighed.
His lips touched her with gentle heat. First her left butt cheek, then her right. He licked the small of her back, and then kissed the welts he’d raised again.
“Rough, angry, stranger sex,” he chuckled. “I have to keep a tally of what you like.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “I’d hardly call you a stranger any more, Adam.” He nodded, tracing the crack of her ass with his fingertip. It made her wiggle, it made her laugh…it made her have to pee, she noticed. “I guess not,” he said. “Thanks for coming tonight.
And for not…running.”
“Hey, you need someone as a wailing wall too. I have Savannah. I have my parents, even when my dad does hurt my feelings, I have…others.”
He nodded, and then changed the subject. “How’s your boy? That phone call earlier sounded…tense.”
Luna blew out a sigh, and pushed her hands into her hair. “Yes. Tense covers it. He’s sounding down. Which happens now and again. But…we’ll see.” She eyed his bed. White sheets and a nice navy blue bedspread. Plain. Cotton. Red and white plaid on the inside. His room was neat, as was the rest of what she’d seen of the house. It was cozy clean. Not too much stuff, but enough stuff to show he was a man with depth. Above his bed was a beautiful, enlarged photograph of a beach at sunset.
He caught her looking. “My mom took that when I was a kid. The last vacation we all had together—my dad was still alive. The cancer hadn’t taken him yet. Anyway, she was a photographer. That’s one of hers.”
She took his hand and squeezed it before releasing it. “It’s gorgeous. The kind of thing I’d look at to calm down.”
He chuckled. “I do that all the time.”
Luna touched his pillow. She realized how much she wanted to climb under the covers and let him drape himself around her. How badly she wanted to just get comfortable and sleep here with him, to hear someone breathing. Not really someone, though, she realized—him. She had the almost nostalgic wish to wake up feeling the warm presence of a lover next to her.
“You okay?” He touched her hair.
“Yeah, fine.” She stood quickly before she changed her mind. This was just sex. Nothing complicated. Nothing that would interfere with her life and her goals. “I just have to go,” she said.
He looked a little sad. She almost did change her mind. But then Adam nodded and said,
“I know. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She left before the pull of him, the pull of his bed and his company and his life, could get to her. He was a good man. Under the anger he was one of the best men she’d ever met. But that couldn’t change anything. This was just fucking.
Chapter Nineteen
She was up early making seven layer Mexican dips. The entire theme for the party they were catering was Mexican food. Savannah had texted at six a.m. Just one line.
FUCKING TAQUITOS
It had made Luna laugh as she blindly poured herself another cup of coffee and set a huge slab of ground beef on to cook. Often the two women would start dishes at home and then transport to assemble. This was to avoid any health code violations or similar. Neither had an industrial kitchen, but transporting a few pounds of ground beef to a professional kitchen to be assembled into a dish was okay.
Luna added her seasoning and texted Nick.
HOW GOES IT?
It was a while before the phone burbled. Luna snorted when she read, MY GOD, MA. WHAT TIME IS IT?
“Oops. Kiddo’s still asleep.”
SORRY. CALL ME LATER.
Another burble and then,
Kk
Luna finished the meat and set about chopping some of her veggies. They’d have the dips and taquitos, some enchiladas and some pulled beef. The party was for a local security system.
They’d had a good first quarter, and were treating their workers to a party. Luna knew the manager—a good guy who’d told her to go whole hog, as long as it was a Mexican hog.
When all the veggies were wrapped and back in the fridge and the meat was keeping warm in the oven, she gulped down the rest of her coffee and went to shower.
Getting dressed in her wor
k outfit, loading the car, driving to the office building for Top Slot Security was an exercise in ordinary. But her mind kept straying to Adam. His pain and his vulnerability, his anger and his anxiety. The way they had been together. And more importantly, her urge to stay. To be there with him both sexually and emotionally.
“Scary,” she muttered. She parked in the roundabout to load up her trolley of food. All the while, her mind working at the issue like a knot.
Was she going to be a clichéd girl and fall for him? Was she going to get her fucking all tangled up with her feelings? One did not necessarily have anything to do with the other.
However, something about Adam stripped her bare of all her normal emotional armor, unless she really worked hard at keeping it intact. It was difficult to keep herself bolstered by indifference and standoffishness when she was starting to see him as an exposed human man with emotions and weaknesses. It was hard not to comfort him, or check on him.
“He’s not your son, Luna,” she muttered, slapping the tray of beef on her pile of goodies.
The thing was done up in almost an entire box of aluminum wrap and still very warm to the touch. She put the whole problem aside as she wheeled the cart to the kitchen area. The security business was housed in an industrial building that had a nice, albeit clinical, kitchen and a double tapioca banquet room. Tapioca being her and Savannah’s code word for boring, cookie cutter décor.
When she pushed the door to the kitchen open her stomach bottomed out. She let herself realize that she’d be seeing Adam today. Soon. He’d show up in his black pants and white shirt and crooked grin and he’d be here. Around her. His dark blue eyes would connect with hers, and she’d feel that electric sizzle in her gut and that wet flex lower in her body and…
Jesus. You are hopeless…
“Hey girl!”
Luna tossed Savannah a wave and yelled, “Going to move the SUV before they ticket me. Be right back.”
Savannah waved her off and already some of the servers were filtering in. She held a brief and brilliant daydream of running into Adam on the way out. Of dragging him to her car.
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