After Hours

by Jodi Lynn Copeland

  One hard knee pushed between her thighs and rubbed against her swollen sex. His lips brushed her ear. “Hold still while I get you clean.”

  “But I’m supposed to—”

  “Be a good girl and do what I say. Remember, you promised.”

  Back at the club she had promised to do whatever he wanted, but that was in total conflict with her plans to drive him wild. He held the reins of control now. She had no choice but to give in to him and prove her word was good. “I’ll behave.”

  He reached past her for the bar of soap on the corner ledge. Bringing his arms around her, he rubbed the bar between his hands until suds sloshed to the tub floor and the scent of sandalwood lifted into the air. Gliding the soap over her body with one hand, he filled the other with a breast. He massaged the throbbing mound, rubbing the nipple into a painful, aching bud, then gave the same treatment to the other. The hand that held the soap skimmed over her belly and down the top half of her thighs.

  Joyce giggled as he brushed it over the back of a knee. “Sorry, but that tickles.”

  “Does this tickle, too?” He guided the soap up between her thighs and across her slit. She shuddered as the hard edge scraped over her clit, then sighed as he rasped the short side back across her lips and applied pressure.

  The hand at her breast moved to her mound, threading through the tight curls to part the slick folds of her pussy. Her sex pulsed, and she whimpered in expectation of the soap filling her, fucking her. Instead, he dropped the soap and grabbed the showerhead, disconnecting it from the base. He brought the head between her legs. The steady stream of hot water pounded against her swollen clit and pushed forcefully into her opening. She writhed as pressure built in her belly. Her legs shook uncontrollably. Heat consumed her chest, her face. Her pulse raced.

  The whole point of showering together was to prolong the pleasure, to make it the best climax either of them had ever had. If Colin kept touching her this way, kept stroking her with the steady flux of the water, she’d be coming in seconds.

  “Tickling yet?”

  He nibbled at her earlobe. She reared back and cried out when his stiff cock caressed her ass. “Not tickling. Too much.”

  “Nuh-uh. Not nearly enough, cupcake.” His voice rasped wickedly. He turned the showerhead’s dial to the next setting. The steady stream of water turned to dozens of little jets, all pulsating against her juicy sex, all threatening to drive her mad and straight over the edge.

  Pushing his thumb and first finger into her opening, he parted her sex so widely that pleasure pain sliced through her. The jets thrummed against her cunt, blinding the subtle ache, drawing forth sensation greater than anything she’d ever known. He angled the showerhead in varying directions until every inch of her sheath was afire with the need to explode. And she was going to explode. There was no more holding back. She couldn’t stand it a second longer.

  Colin replaced the showerhead in its base. The pressure in her sex tapered off, orgasm slowly receded.

  Joyce cried out her disbelief. “What are you doing? You can’t do that.” It wasn’t nice to build her up and leave her hanging. And he was a nice guy. Wasn’t he?

  He chuckled, not sounding nice at all, but downright sinful. “You told me I could. You said I could do anything I wanted to you.” His tone became lower, tighter, eager. “I still need to clean your mouthwatering ass.”

  One hand remained at her mound, cupping her sex, teasing a finger back and forth across her clit. The other moved to her lower back, rubbing the rise off her buttocks. Two fingers journeyed down the slope, stroked the cleft. A single finger dipped between the cleft and pushed into the puckered hole.

  Joyce swallowed hard. She closed her eyes, expecting pain. She’d seen pictures in the sex manual, had witnessed that woman being taken from behind at the club, but it didn’t seem possible that such a thing could be pleasurable. It was pleasure, though, that erupted between her thighs as he pushed his finger farther inside her anus and wiggled it. White-hot pleasure that leaked juices down her thighs, thick and creamy, to mingle with the streaming water.

  “Do you like it in this end, cupcake?” He pulled partway out and milked her hole with a slow, thrusting rhythm. She cried out and arched back, wildly desperate for more, wanting all of him. “Please…”

  His laughter fanned hotly against her sweaty flesh. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Yes,” she managed, her thighs trembling, pressure sizzling through her once more, building up even greater than before.

  “It’s so…so good. You’re so…” He added a second finger. Ecstasy crashed through her. “Oh, gracious…so good.”

  “Just good?”

  “Amazing. You’re am—” The breath left her as his fingers pulled out quickly and his cock pushed into her hole. Her eyes watered at the magnitude of him filling her ass, so strong, so sturdy. So deep. Thrusting a finger into the slick valley of her sex, he pushed deeper still. “Holy Hades, Colin!”

  She reared back. He pistoned his hips, meeting her thrust with one in the opposite direction. The pressure was too much, the tension all-consuming. She screamed as orgasm toppled over her, near blinding with its intensity.

  “Okay?”

  Colin’s rough voice pushed through the tempest of ecstasy. She forced out, “O—kay,” as spasms continued to ripple through her.

  His moan blistered her ears as his seed pounded into her buttocks in a hot spray that almost brought her to her knees. His arm wrapped around middle, locking her in place. The breath raged from his lungs as his hips pivoted, emptying the last of the cum from his body.

  Seconds passed in a daze of unspeakable bliss. His words broke the silence. “I think you almost killed me.”

  Joyce laughed at the incredulousness of the statement. He was the one who’d nearly pushed her past the point of consciousness. She thought he hadn’t been nice when he’d put the showerhead away, leaving her on the brink. He had been nice. Incredibly, wonderfully, ultimate-orgasmically so. “That was…so…Rick could never make me come like that. Not even in his dreams.”

  The arm around her middle tightened. “Rick?”

  Bliss left her in a deflating sigh. No. She hadn’t just pulled the most inane move ever and brought up her ex-husband. Only, she had. “He’s no one important.”

  “Important enough to compare me to.”

  The rapture was gone from his voice, replaced by a tightness she understood well. He believed she was involved with another man and sleeping with him on the side. Dangit, she thought she’d convinced him earlier she would never do something like that. Maybe he didn’t trust her after all. But then, maybe he had good reason not to. She hadn’t been truthful with him. For the sake of bringing back the thrill of the moment, she found herself admitting, “My ex-husband. I never see him anymore. He’s in prison.”

  Colin should have relaxed. Instead, his entire body stiffened against her back. “For abusing you, right?”

  “What?” Why would he think such a thing?

  He spun her in his arms and eyed her soberly. “Did he hit you?”

  The urge to look at the floor was automatic. She forced her gaze to steady, not to show or feel fear. She was stronger now. She could stand up to the truth. “Just once, I swear. It was the night he went to prison, and, no, it wasn’t for abusing me.”

  Sympathy filled his eyes. He pulled her tightly against him. Brushing the hair back, he kissed her forehead. “He yelled a lot, made you feel like you were less of a person. Made you feel scared. I’m sorry, cupcake.”

  Joyce wanted to stand up to the truth with a bold front, to be confident, self-assured, as if the past were long forgotten. But she couldn’t when he was holding her so compassionately.

  Tears welled in her eyes. She hid her face against his chest. He was so darned sweet. So much more than she’d expected to find in a short-term lover. But that’s what he was. What he had to be. A short-term guy who wouldn’t be messing with her heart or mind. That meant she couldn�
��t say any more on Rick. It meant she soon had to tell Colin good-bye. “I don’t really want to talk about him. I’m tired.”

  “Okay,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. Tipping her face back with a finger under her chin, he gave her a comforting smile. “Just remember, the way he treated you wasn’t your fault, Joyce. He was the messed-up one. The fact that he’s in jail says that much.”

  Her own smile came with the confidence he exuded. She could practice a lifetime and never be that sure of herself. “It must be nice to be so strong.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You would never let anyone make you feel like less of a person.”

  His lips fell flat and he stepped from her arms out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he mumbled, “That just goes to show how much you don’t know me.”

  “No. I don’t.” But she did know one thing. She hadn’t kicked her naïveté.

  She was just as gullible as ever to believe she could be with a man as kind and warm as Colin and not have her heart get involved. The lack of his arms around her, and the lack of his presence in the shower, hurt more than Rick’s cruel words or even his fist had. The thought of never getting to know him better, let alone seeing him beyond a few more days, made her feel lonelier than she’d been in her entire life.

  Standing naked in Colin’s bathroom, following a morning shower for one that reminded her too much of last night’s explosive shower for two, Joyce rubbed lightly at her tat. She stuck out her tongue at the Harley. Rubbing was pointless. The tat wasn’t looking any better. The thing was just as dry and flaky as its owner. Only, as she recalled from the care instructions, this was just a stage along the way to the tat’s completion. Her own dry flakiness was permanent.

  Last night, for such a long while, she’d been self-assured, in control and loving the power that confidence wrought. After convincing herself it was for the best that she and Colin had no future, she’d pushed her inner sex goddess back to the forefront and joined him in bed for another round of mind-blowing sex. Everything was good. Back on track. Then morning had come and he’d left for work with nothing more than a fleeting smile and hasty good-bye kiss.

  No talk of another liaison. No exchange of phone numbers. Nothing but cold, hard reality returning to nip her in the bottom and call forth her inner flake—that naive little dunce who’d run her life for far too long. That gullible woman who in less than ten seconds had reversed every amount of last night’s self-convincing that she was better off without Colin. Now she didn’t feel better off. Now she ached for him to return home and tell her that he never should have left so casually because the way he felt for her was anything but casual.

  Oh, pooh. Why did he have to be such a nice guy?

  She should have dirty-talked Ernie into being her short-term lover. The tattoo artist wouldn’t tease her over blowing bubbles into his pubic hair. He’d yell, just the way she deserved. All right, so she didn’t deserve to be yelled at, but he wouldn’t have made a joke over it the way Colin had. He wouldn’t hold her close and offer comfort when he learned about Rick’s ill treatment of her.

  “Waky-waky time, Col. You’re going to be late for work and both of us know what an ass you’ll be if that happens. Besides, your Mud Pie Bliss is ready.”

  Joyce stiffened, her heart slamming against her ribs at the sound of a woman’s loud voice. Who the heck was she? According to the bartender at Dusty’s, Colin was divorced. The way he acted when he thought she wanted another man made it improbable that he could have another lover. Improbable, but not impossible. Maybe he wasn’t such a nice guy after all. Maybe he was every bit as low-down as Rick.

  “Colin?” A knock sounded against the bathroom door.

  “Col, you in there?”

  Joyce grabbed her dress from where it had been left in a heap on the floor last night and tugged it on. Holding her breath, she darted her gaze around the room. A window, just above the sink, thank goodness. Barefoot, she climbed up on the basin. The window was small, but, then, so was she. She could fit. She had to fit. She pushed open the window and nearly wept to find no screen. Then nearly screamed as she took in the sheer drop down. She could handle a two-story fall. Suffering a broken arm or leg would be far better than meeting the girlfriend of the man she’d slept with last night. Wanted to sleep with again right this minute.

  And that proved how truly flaky she was, Joyce thought as she stuck one leg out the window. Here she was, risking life and limb because of Colin’s infidelity, and all she could think about was getting back into his arms. Bracing her palms on the sink basin, she stuck her other leg out the window. A warm morning breeze lifted her skirt and she grimaced. Imagine if Rick could see her now, starting out the day by escaping an about-to-be-scorned girlfriend and mooning the neighbors.

  A second round of knocking started up. Joyce jolted; her arms trembled. Her palms slid forward on the slippery sink basin. She screeched as the faucet came into up-close-and-personal view, followed by the tiled flooring. Pain shot through her hands and knees as she skidded to a stop, inches from the door.

  “Caitlyn?”

  Joyce shook the fuzziness from her head and checked her body. Lots of ache, but nothing appeared bloody or broken. Nothing but her sanity. Her name registered, then, followed by the concern in the woman’s voice. Whoever stood outside that door knew who she was. That ruled out a girlfriend. Which meant she’d nearly killed herself for no reason. Unless it was Colin’s mother. What if she knew about the gum incident and that he’d had to shave off his pubic hair because of it?

  Heat pushed into her cheeks. She stood and, ignoring the ache that shot through her limbs, straightened the skimpy black dress as best as possible. She didn’t want to face his mother this way, but she wasn’t risking that window again.

  She counted to five, willing the embarrassment of the situation away. It didn’t leave. Maybe she’d get lucky, and if she responded, his mother would go. “Um, yeah, I’m in here. Everything’s okay. I just…thought I saw a spider.”

  “Is Colin with you?”

  “Um, no. He had to go to work. He said I could sleep in and use the shower and stuff when I woke up. I have the day off work.” Now go away. Please.

  “Me, too.” Her tone turned conversational, like she had no plans to go away any time soon. Crud. “Well, sort of. I have a cooking test tomorrow, so I have to spend the day trying to figure out how to make a soufflé.”

  “My mom has a great recipe.” Joyce bit her tongue. Dangit. She really hadn’t meant to say that.

  “It sounds killer.”

  “It’s excellent. I could teach…” Close your mouth. No matter how kind Colin’s mother sounded, she could not teach her how to make a soufflé. That would mean spending the day with the woman, and that would be even worse than sharing information on her ex-husband with Colin. “I’ll write it down for you.” If she could just find a pen, she could jot it on toilet paper and slip it under the door.

  “You cook a lot?”

  Oh, gosh, she sounded excited about the idea. Was there even a chance of her getting away sight unseen? Maybe the window was worth a second try. She glanced at it, saying absently, “When I have time.”

  “Unless you have other plans for the day, can I hire you to teach me?”

  Joyce spun back to the door and gasped. Beyond the assistance she provided customers at the bookstore, no one ever asked for her help. Warmth swelled in her chest. She smiled and opened the door before she could stop herself. A tall woman with short black hair and vivid blue eyes stood on the other side. She wasn’t nearly old enough to be Colin’s mother, but closer to Joyce’s own age. “You honestly want my help?”

  “I could really use it. Colin will tell you what a terrible cook I am.”

  The warmth wavered. She forced the smile to stay intact. “We’re not close like that. We’re just…”

  “Sleeping together?”

  Embarrassment returned to flood her. Joyce shifted, struggling to keep her attention fro
m the security of the floor.

  “Oh, please do not get all antsy and act like you shouldn’t be telling me these things. Colin does that, too, and it drives me nutso. We’re adults here. Talking about sex is not taboo. By the way, I’m Liz and I owe you a huge thanks. My brother was in major need of a lay.”

  “Colin’s your brother?”

  “Yeah. What, did you think he was my boyfriend?”

  “Only at first.” Just long enough to try to break her neck.

  Liz laughed, then offered a wide smile. “Col’s as single as they come. He hasn’t even been with a woman since Marlene left. Well, he hadn’t been before last night. Okay, the night before last, but I hardly think a blow job counts as real sex—even a good blow job, which apparently you gave him.”

  Joyce tried to shut out the woman’s words—they were far more than she needed to hear. But she couldn’t. She could only bask in the glow of knowing the blow job she’d given Colin was good enough to mention to his sister, and wonder over his ex-wife. If she stuck to sexual matters, asking a few questions would be okay. It wouldn’t make her feel any closer to him.

  Think attitude, she reminded herself, then asked, “Was Marlene good at blow jobs?”

  “Marlene was a heinous bitch he never should have married. She had us all fooled at first, acted very sweet. But she wasn’t even close to that. I hate that Colin had to find out she was cheating by walking in on her doing her old fart of a boss, but he never would have believed it otherwise. He’s a huge believer in love and marriage. I’d say it’s the reason he’s put off sex for so long. But enough about my brother, let’s hear about you and this excellent soufflé recipe of your mom’s.”