After Hours

by Jodi Lynn Copeland

  “Nice picture.” He smiled, revealing white teeth so large it was probable they could chew through her arm in a single bite.

  “Makes you look like a schoolteacher.”

  She considered throwing out a touch of Caitlyn attitude to combat the words, then changed her mind. She liked her arm right where it was.

  Joyce grabbed her ID and tucked it back between her breasts, grimacing as the bills resettled to accommodate the license. He opened the door for her. “Enjoy yourself.”

  “I have every intention.”

  She stepped through the door and into a world from another time, one where clothing was optional and the norm was to go without. Unable to keep her mouth from gaping, she moved into the black-lit club. The hypnotic throb of blaring music rocked through her body and pounded between her temples. A stage rose several feet in the air to her left. Strobe lights cut through the purple haze of darkness and glided across the dancers—if what they were doing could be called dancing. Body parts were visible everywhere. Naked breasts, torsos—

  A hand clamped around her wrist, jerking back and stealing her breath. She spun into the wall of a broad, muscled chest. Exhilaration shot through her as the man’s mouth came down on hers, openmouthed and possessive. Colin. His tongue pushed between her lips, his hands beneath the short hem of her snug, black, spaghetti-strap dress. Fingers gripped her buttocks, bit into her flesh. The kiss turned wet, sloppy, gross. He tasted like something from the bottom of the sewer. Ew!

  Definitely not Colin.

  Joyce pushed hard against his chest, hoping he’d take the hint and release her. His tongue continued its soggy assault, his fingertips fast heading toward the rear of her sex. Panic coursed through her.

  Rick. He reminded her of Rick.

  Her stomach pitched. She raised her knee, ready to use it on him the way she’d learned to do in the self-defense class she’d taken a few months prior. Before she could make contact, the foul-tasting stranger lifted from her lips and released her bottom. Strobe lights flickered over them to reveal his eyes wide, pained looking. She saw the hand at his neck then, grasping his throat, cutting off his circulation.

  A chilling voice shouted from behind her, “Get the fuck out of here, or next time I won’t let up.” The hand released the man and he scrambled away with a stagger that suggested he was plastered as well as perverted.

  That dark voice came at her next, warning, “That’s exactly why you don’t go out to a bar alone.”

  “It’s a club,” Joyce said automatically. Panic had fled along with the drunk. It returned now as she realized she had no idea who her savior was and what he hoped to get in repayment for his services. She could stand there and cower, or she could face him. The Joyce of old would cower.

  Sticking out her chin, she turned around, and warmth radiated from her ears to her toes. Colin. Her short-term lover. Her savior. “Thank goodness it’s you.”

  She moved into his arms, rising on tiptoe to show her gratitude with a kiss. She’d intended a brush, but the nearness of his rock-hard body, the memory of how good he felt beneath her tongue, assailed her. She sank her tongue deep, licking at his warmth, relishing his masculine flavor. Sliding his hands down her back, he returned the kiss, thrusting and tangling with her tongue, ravaging her senses until her head spun with giddy sensation and the music wasn’t the only thing throbbing.

  She lifted from his mouth, stunned by the way he affected her. Her pulse chased wildly, her heart pounded. Arousal had to be dripping down her thighs in thick, creamy rivulets. Never had Rick made her so hot, so wet with a kiss or his lovemaking from start to finish. But then, she knew now that what Rick had done to her wasn’t lovemaking but the kind of hurtful handling the drunk had tried.

  Thank goodness for Colin.

  She smiled. “Thank you. He had really smelly breath and his hands weren’t so great, either. Nothing like yours.” His hands dipped lower, cupping her ass and squeezing the way they had in her dream last night. Her very first erotic dream. She’d woken up damp and breathing hard and craving Colin’s touch. “I dreamt about your hands last night.”

  He looked like he wanted to say more about her being there alone, but caved to a salacious smile instead. “Did you? And what exactly did these dreams entail?”

  “You touching me.” Joyce sighed. Not nearly bold enough. Think attitude. Dirty words. Think about that ultimate orgasm just waiting to be had. “I dreamt about the way your fingers would feel inside me, loving my pussy, making me scream.” She moved a hand between them and found his cock through his jeans, already so hard, so ready for her. “I thought about this all day. About how it would feel pushing into me, taking me. I thought about the hot sounds you make when you come.”

  Screams of ecstasy exploded to her right, sounding out above the hammering music. Colin spun her in his arms and pulled her back flush to his front. His breath fanned warmth into her ear as she followed his gaze toward the owner of those screams, a voluptuous platinum blonde standing naked and spread-eagled against a railing.

  “How do you want me to take you, cupcake?” His hot words teased her ear as his hard sex pressed into her bottom. “From the front or the back? Tongue or cock? Watch, and tell me which one excites you more?”

  Nipples straining into hard aching buds, sex letting forth a gush of wild juices, Joyce watched rapt. The woman’s hands were cuffed to the metal bar at her back and her legs splayed wide, parting her shaved pussy lips to a redheaded man kneeling on the floor in front of her and her butt cheeks to a second man behind her. Fully clothed, the redhead held her thighs in his hands and used his tongue to push up the hood of her clit. He drew the swollen pearl between his lips. The blonde’s tongue came out, licking at the sweltering air. Her hips thrust forward, burying his face in her mound. The large, raven-haired man at her back held her long hair in one hand while he reached around to squeeze a heavy breast with the other. Unlike his friend, he wasn’t clothed, but naked from the waist down. The blonde’s hips went wild and her frenzied screams came again as the man thrust forward then quickly jerked backward, revealing a long, thick cock glistening with juice.

  Ménage. She knew the word, had seen the pictures in her book, but never could’ve guessed at the naughty thrill of watching one unfold. The bouncing strobe lights and grinding music made the scene seem that much kinkier.

  Unable to steal her gaze from the thrusting trio, Joyce’s own scream filled the air when Colin’s big hand cupped her sex. A lone finger drove upward, stroking her dripping slit through the thin material of her dress. She’d risked all and went without panties again. Closing her eyes as that long, bold finger rubbed against her aching clit, she smiled her gratitude.

  Tonight she wouldn’t be an idiot. Tonight she would be a sex goddess coming undone with the ultimate orgasm.

  The hair was lifted from her nape and his warm mouth nuzzled her neck. She shivered as he trailed moist kisses from her nape to the spaghetti strap of her dress. Teeth bit into the tiny strap, tugging it down her arm. Those teeth gave a yank and sultry air licked over her breast, against her painfully tight nipple.

  Joyce’s eyes flared open. She looked down to find the Harley on her right breast had zoomed out of hiding, its vivid colors gleaming in the bouncing glow of the strobe lights. Colin’s teeth tugged on the other strap. One large hand flicked across her chest, brushing her nipple and retreating far too quickly. Her left breast came into view, exposing an aroused, deep pink areola. His hand returned, this time bringing its partner. They covered her breasts, palming, squeezing, tugging at her nipples while his mouth worked a wicked wet path down her spine.

  She moaned with each damp, teasing kiss, reclined into his touch completely. Liquid desire pumped hotly through her veins, deep into her sex. The dress slid lower over the softness of her belly to the tilt of her hips. Pale blond pubic hair flirted into sight. Good gosh this was it; soon he would have her naked, fully exposed to every patron in the club, and there were hundreds of them.

>   Could she let it happen? Could she be so daring?

  One hand lifted from her breast, moved beneath the hem of her dress and rimmed her swollen pussy lips. Joyce’s head fell back with a lusty sigh, the ends of her hair tickling her naked, sweaty back. Hedonistic delight thrummed from the tips of her erect nipples to the center of her aching sex. Her heart pounded in time with the pulsating beat surrounding them.

  “Is this how you want it, cupcake?” A lone finger pushed into her sheath, milking her.

  She cried out. Oh, gosh, did she cry out. Heat rushed into her face. Her legs shook. Her belly tightened. Was this it? The ultimate climax? Was she building up to it? If so, then this was how she wanted it. “Yes. I want that. I want more.”

  “How many more?” Colin added a second finger, pushing up into her creaming body. He came around to her front. Watching her through intense, hungry green eyes he lashed his tongue across a nipple. He added a third finger, stretching her, pushing her ever closer to the edge. She closed her eyes with a moan as his mouth took in her nipple, his teeth scraped. Fire ignited in her loins.

  This was it. This had to be it.

  The wet, sucking warmth of his lips lifted. He pulled his fingers free of her body. She whimpered at the heavenly loss.

  No. Please no. Don’t stop now.

  Joyce opened her eyes, ready to protest, ready to demand that he return to her. Speech failed her, breath failed her. She could only stare as he pushed the dress to the floor, fell to his knees and fit his mouth over her sex.

  His tongue skewered into her center, thrust deep into her slick cunt. Shivers shook her to the core. Words left her lips as senseless sobs. His hands wrapped around the apex of her thighs, his thumbs spread her pussy lips wide, wider, until she was splayed like the woman from the ménage.

  Joyce looked over, expecting to find the blonde cuffed and screaming. The woman was gone, but the men were there, both naked now, mouths fused and hands stroking each other’s erect cocks. The kiss ended and the smaller of the men, the redhead, went to his knees. He guided the other man’s erection toward his lips. She gasped as his tongue came out and lapped at the fluid glistening on the head of his partner’s cock, then gasped again as Colin twisted his tongue inside her body.

  Tremors sliced through her. Her limbs shook so forcefully she feared she might fall. Something hard pushed up against her, supporting her from behind. The tremors increased, stealing her breath, her sanity. She closed her eyes and gave into heady sensation. Hands closed over her breasts, fingers toyed with her aching nipples. Colin’s tongue pulled out. Tugging at her clit, he thrust back in and twisted both finger and tongue. The hands at her breasts plucked at her nipples, squeezed hard.

  Fever gripped her belly, her mind. She screamed as she came, pulsing hot, flowing cream into Colin’s mouth. One hand left her breast to grip her hair and pull her head back. A tongue pushed into her mouth, ate at her. Not Colin’s, her mind registered somewhere through the tremors of ecstasy. But she was powerless to do anything but ride out those tremors, to give into the kiss and bask in the glow of the ultimate orgasm.

  Through a rapturous fog she was aware of Colin’s hands leaving her thighs, his tongue pulling from her body. The tongue pulled from her mouth, as well, the hands from her hair and breast. Shouts sounded around her.

  The yelling lifted her from her haze. She opened her eyes to find Colin standing in front of her. She smiled, ready to tell him how good he’d been. How incredibly, amazingly good. His dark look stopped her. She thought him angry last night. He hadn’t been then, but he was now.

  Rage compressed his lips and narrowed his eyes. A muscle twitched along his jawline. He seemed taller than she’d ever realized. Towering over her, emanating a storm of dark, furious passion. “I guess you didn’t want the front or the back, did you, cupcake?” he mocked loudly in a tone cold as ice. “You wanted both.”

  Trembling with the accusation, with the cruelty of his look, Joyce darted for her dress. She tugged it on with shaking hands and wrapped her arms around her chest. She didn’t want to be afraid. She didn’t. But she was. “W—what do you mean?”

  “Did you enjoy his kiss?” he snapped. “Did you like the way his hands felt on your tits? I hope so, because he’s the only one you’ll be going home with tonight.”

  His? The other man. The one she’d heard arguing with Colin. The one who’d had his hands on her breasts, his tongue in her mouth. Her insides crawled. “Oh, my gosh. I didn’t realize. I didn’t know. I—I don’t want him. I want you. I swear I do.”

  He smirked, no laugh lines present now, just cold, hard rage. “Do you? For how long? Just until you get my dick in your ass and then you’ll move on? How about I give it to you right now, and you can still go home with him.”

  Colin was at her back before she could blink. His arm banded around her middle like a metal vise. His free hand yanked at the hem of her dress, exposing her buttocks.

  Tears pricked at her eyes. No, he wouldn’t take her this way, not when she wasn’t ready. Not when fear held her in its crippling grasp. “C—Colin. Stop. Please stop! I don’t like you like this. You—you’re scaring me.”

  Long seconds passed. She fought for strength. The arm at her waist loosened. The hem of dress slipped back down. The warmth and hardness of his body left her. Joyce turned to find him shaking his head, looking deflated. Defeated.

  Remorse filled his eyes. “Shit!” he shouted above the music. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought we came here tonight to be together. If you want someone else, fine, but don’t expect me to take part.”

  “But I don’t want anyone else. I want you.” Fear was gone now, replaced by soul-deep desire the moment she’d witnessed his regret.

  He wasn’t Rick. Nor the drunk who’d manhandled her when she’d first entered the club. He wasn’t a man to fear, but one to give and receive pleasure.

  She stepped forward. Laying her palms on the hard planes of his chest, she rose on tiptoe and brushed his cheek with her lips. “Let me show you how badly I want you.”

  His eyes reflected his need to experience that. But he lifted her hands away and shook his head. “I’ve already overstayed my visit.”

  “Take me home with you then,” Joyce pleaded. This wasn’t just about pleasure any longer. This was about more. Not forever. But maybe about faith. About trust. About showing him she wasn’t the type of person to taunt another with her actions or her words. “I promise you won’t be sorry. I’ll do anything you want. You can do anything to me. Don’t leave angry, Colin. Please.”

  “I’m not angry, just disappointed.”

  “Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much I didn’t want him. How badly I want you. Only you. Take me with you.”

  Indecision warred in his eyes. She held her breath; he expelled his, long, hot and hard. “All right. Let’s go.”

  What the fuck was he thinking, bringing her home with him?

  Colin killed the engine on his truck. Headlights flashed from behind, and a car pulled in the driveway and shut off. Caitlyn was here, expecting him to take her up to his bed and give her a screaming orgasm that Liz would overhear and never let him live down.

  Or maybe Caitlyn didn’t expect an orgasm. Maybe she expected him to make her give him another blow job and anything else he desired in exchange for what happened back at the club. The past made him anxious to find her guilty and send her packing. The expression on her face as she apologized for letting that other guy touch her had him wanting to buy her every word. She’d looked upset when he’d started shouting, fearful the way she’d been last night in those moments following the gum incident. She’d admitted to the fear, told him he was scaring her. That was the reason he’d brought her home, because—asinine of him or not—he believed her. He believed she was genuinely sorry and that she’d been so into the moment she hadn’t realized another man was touching her until it was too late.

  Hell, he shouldn’t care if her apologies were genuin
e. He shouldn’t be wondering over the bastard responsible for putting that fear in her eyes in the first place. Shouldn’t even give a damn if every man in that club stuck his tongue down her throat and his dick in her ass. She didn’t mean a thing to him. Come tomorrow, she’d be gone, nothing more than a memory. His comeback fuck.

  Colin grunted. He’d never feel this way over a comeback fuck. Shaken up inside and confused as hell by the way Caitlyn could be scorching hot one minute and timid as a mouse the next.

  He got out of the truck and went back to her car, a Mustang so brilliant yellow it nearly glowed in the dark. The perfect car for the blond bombshell who’d beckoned him to her side last night. It wasn’t the bombshell inside the car, though. That woman would be bounding out of the door and into his arms. This woman sat motionless, looking ahead as if he’d frightened her into having second thoughts.

  He opened her door. The dome light filtered out into the darkness and lit up her face as she looked at him uncertainly. He smiled. Someone needed to get this thing back on the solely sexual track it belonged. “You plan on staying in there all night?”

  “I shouldn’t go inside. It’s your home. Your personal space.”

  That should be his concern alone. Unless she was having as many problems keeping her thoughts on the physical as he was. “I want you to come in. If what happened back at the club is stopping you, forget about it. I reacted badly.”

  Her eyebrows drew together and she frowned. “I would never taunt someone that way, make them believe I wanted them when it was another guy I was after. That’s just awful. I honestly didn’t even realize he was there at first, and then I couldn’t think. You had my mind spinning.” A smile touched at her lips and warmed her hazel eyes. “You were really good, Colin.”

  Conceit spiked through him. When was the last time a woman told him he was good? Marlene sure as hell hadn’t. She’d spent her days making sure he knew how bad he was—at sex, at marriage. Even with his job. She never thought he stood a fighting chance getting the landscaping business off the ground and into the black.