Midnight Fantasies

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  “Yeah, but that’s not important right now. I’m worried about you. Sue Ellen, get this boy some water and a cold cloth. I think he’s fixing to pass out on us.”

  Jonas coughed and shook his head. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “I don’t think so.” Henry took the damp dishcloth Sue Ellen handed over the counter. “Here, put this at the back of your neck.”

  Jonas did as he was told, and the coolness helped. “Thanks.”

  Sue Ellen leaned over the counter to peer at him. “Want me to call Noah?”

  “No!” Jonas’s mind edged around the information he’d received but wasn’t in any shape to process. Vanilla candles. It could be a coincidence. It had to be.

  “I know,” Sue Ellen said. “Let me call B.J. A woman’s better in a situation like this.”

  “No!” B.J. He couldn’t escape logic. If Sarah was gone, and B.J. had been watching the house this week…No. He didn’t even want to go there.

  Sue Ellen drew back. “Okay, I won’t call her. But B.J.’s good in an emergency. I’m sure she could—”

  “I’m fine.” Although his head was still buzzing, Jonas managed a weak smile. “Just the flu, I guess. I’d better get out of here before I expose you all.” Laying the cloth next to his plate, he reached in his back pocket for his wallet.

  “On the house,” Sue Ellen said. “You didn’t eat it, anyway.”

  “That’s okay. I want to pay.” Jonas laid some bills on the table. “That should cover it. I’ll head on home.” Home was the last place he wanted to go, but he’d figure out how he’d deal with that later.

  “Are you sure you can drive?” Henry asked.

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve been worse off than this before.” Jonas slid off the stool and walked out of the café on rubbery legs. Once back in his truck, he started the engine and drove aimlessly.

  Or so he thought. Apparently he had a destination in mind, after all. Soon he was sitting in front of Sarah’s house. Or the house rented by Sarah, which was presently being watched by B.J. He gripped the steering wheel. B.J.

  Closing his eyes, he leaned against the headrest and tried to piece it all together, starting with the cave. He’d stumbled in and been thrown completely off guard by finding a woman there. She’d told him her name was Sarah, and she was a sculptor. He’d wanted it to be true.

  He still did. He didn’t want to face the fact that his mystery lover, the fantasy woman he’d been obsessed with for the past two days, didn’t exist. He couldn’t deal with knowing that all the things he’d done with and to Sarah, all the things she’d let him do to her, had involved a girl he’d known all his life.

  I feel as if I’ve known you all my life. He’d said that, but he sure as hell hadn’t meant it literally. As the shock began to wear off, anger moved in to take its place. She had no business engaging in such behavior! She wasn’t like that! Never had been, never would be! Then how had she managed to give him the time of his life?

  And why? Was this part of some diabolical plot to blackmail him later? That didn’t make sense. He’d have as much blackmail material as she would.

  If she’d meant it as the practical joke of the millennium, he had to hand it to her. She’d come up with a beauty. But practical jokes weren’t any fun if only the jokester and the victim knew about it. And he couldn’t believe she would ever want anyone to know what they’d done in the cave, what they’d done in Sarah’s bedroom.

  And oh, what they’d done. He opened his eyes and gazed at the little cottage. The doorknob was bare now, but unless he changed things, it would have a red silk scarf tied on it by dusk tonight. In spite of everything, he was becoming aroused again thinking about it. In spite of everything, he wanted more. But he wanted his mystery woman back. He couldn’t play those kinds of games with B.J.

  Or could he? A picture of her mouthing that banana flickered into his mind. He’d noticed her butt yesterday, too, for the first time. And truth be told, he’d rather have his mystery woman turn out to be B.J. than someone pushing sixty.

  But he never would have believed that B.J. could have such ideas in her head. With all those years of growing up together, working side by side as adults, he never would have guessed what was going on behind those innocent blue eyes.

  Come to think of it, knowing that she wasn’t what she seemed was kind of exciting. Extremely exciting. If he kept their date tonight, he would know who she was, but she wouldn’t know he knew. He could egg her on to be wilder and wilder, and she’d probably do it because she’d think her identity was safe. She deserved some payback for the way she’d tricked him.

  Funny, but the anger was gone now. He felt sort of warm all over, as if things were falling into place the way they were supposed to. When he’d first found out that he’d been making love to B.J., he’d been totally freaked. But now…now there was a rightness to it all that he couldn’t ignore. B.J. Who would have thought?

  He wondered if she’d ever planned to tell him. And once again, he was back to the question of why she’d pulled this elaborate charade in the first place. Once he knew that, he could decide what to do about it.

  Of course he could go back to the ranch right now, confront her with his information and get the whole thing out in the open. He could do that, but then there would be no secret rendezvous tonight. The decision boiled down to whether he wanted to satisfy his curiosity now, or satisfy his lust tonight and his curiosity another time.

  Oh well. He could live with being curious.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HAVING COME TO THE DOOR naked the first night, B.J. decided she needed to do something different this time, wearing seductive clothing that would add to the tactile enjoyment when Jonas touched her. Something erotic and naughty. Yet she’d never owned sexy lingerie and she didn’t have time to go shopping.

  Then inspiration hit. She’d taken part in a fancy riding demonstration in Phoenix a few years ago, and the event had been televised. For that occasion she’d bought an incredibly soft vest and chaps in red suede, an outfit that was way too beautiful for regular ranch work. She’d never worn it again.

  At first her practical side rebelled at the idea of sacrificing such an expensive outfit to the cause. Once she’d made love to Jonas while wearing it, she’d never be able to put it on without thinking of what they’d shared. But she could keep it in the bottom of her closet for a souvenir. It might be the only one she’d ever have. If she wore the vest open and nothing else but the chaps, she’d definitely be X-rated.

  And after all, she was building memories to last her a lifetime. She decided to sacrifice the outfit to her fantasy.

  She was leery of using the garden-watering excuse a second time with her father. Instead she told him that Sarah had offered her use of a DVD player and she’d just discovered that Sarah owned a bunch of good movies.

  The excuse could be expanded to include more hours in Sarah’s house the following night, in case she decided to risk it. To continue these meetings would really be pushing her luck, but how she loved her intimate encounters with Jonas. She couldn’t bear to have them end.

  By seven-thirty she was in Sarah’s bedroom putting on her vest and chaps. She discovered that the vest rubbed erotically against her nipples when she moved, and the chaps stimulated her inner thighs. When she glanced in a full-length mirror, she could hardly believe she was the woman reflected in it. Her unbound hair rippled over her shoulders, her breasts peeked from under the red suede and the golden triangle between her legs was blatantly emphasized by the cut of the chaps. From the rear, with nothing covering her bottom, she looked even more provocative.

  Now for the bed. She stripped it down to the mattress and put a protective cover over it. Then she made it up with a fresh sheet. Tonight they would experiment with the flavored oil, and she didn’t want to ruin Sarah’s mattress. Fortunately she knew that none of this would shock Sarah. The older woman had a liberated sex life and hadn’t been shy about sharing a few of her more colorful stories. Some of their
conversations might have helped B.J. shed her inhibitions with Jonas, now that she thought about it.

  Heart beating with anticipation, she lit the candles. They’d only burned about a third of their length the previous night, so they were good for tonight and maybe one more session. After that…well, after the candles were gone she really should play it safe and stop before the situation got out of hand. She was crazy to imagine the charade could go on much longer. Jonas wouldn’t agree to wear a blindfold forever.

  But he’d agreed to wear one tonight. She turned on the CD player just as a soft knock came at the front door. He was here. Her skin warmed and her body moistened.

  Tonight they would play as before, but when the playing was done, she would finally make that magical, elemental connection with him. He wouldn’t understand the significance of that, because he would still be thinking of her as Sarah, his mystery woman. But she would know. And she would carry that memory with her always.

  Her suede chaps rustled as she walked to the door and opened it. There stood Jonas, the red scarf tied firmly over his eyes. A shiver of delight passed through her as she looked him over. Tonight he had on a wear-softened T-shirt and snug jeans with no belt. The faded denim molded to his body and revealed exactly how excited he was. His feet were bare.

  He lifted the boots he held in one hand. “Thought I’d save some time.”

  “Excellent.” She trembled as she reached for his hand and drew him inside. Then she started to lead him toward the hall.

  He paused, bringing her hand to his lips. “How have you been?” he murmured as he kissed her knuckles.

  “I…um…I’ve been fine.”

  “Been working in your studio today?”

  “Uh…yes.”

  He ran his tongue in the crevice between each knuckle. “Did you think about me while you worked on a nude statue?”

  “Of course I did.” She wasn’t sure all this talking was a good idea. She might stumble and say something that would give her away. “And it made me really, really want you.” She tugged on his hand.

  He resisted. Gently, but still he wasn’t moving. “Then you were working on a statue of a man?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve thought about your work, and I wonder if you get…excited…when you’re making the penis.”

  She swallowed. “I…I like doing that.”

  “I’ll bet you do, Sarah.” He caressed her fingers. “I get really hot imagining these soft hands squeezing the clay, shaping it, molding your very own—”

  “Well, it’s all about art, of course.”

  “Of course. But, Sarah, will this statue look anything like me?”

  “Yes. No. I mean…I wouldn’t want anyone to recognize…”

  “My penis? I don’t think that’s likely. It’s not that well-known.”

  “I meant your face.” She tugged harder. “Jonas, please. I need you so.”

  “That’s good to hear.” At last he followed her toward the hallway. “Because I’ve been thinking about you, about this, all day. I spent most of my time alone, riding the fence, checking for breaks in the wire. I just didn’t feel like being with people when all I wanted to do was think about you.”

  She’d wondered where the heck he’d gone today. But not having him around had made her life easier. At least she hadn’t needed to put up a false front. But he was sounding way too interested in her sculpting career and also kind of lovesick. That wasn’t good. A lovesick man might do something stupid, like drive over here sometime, hoping to find the object of his affections working on her nude statues.

  Okay, tonight would be the end. She couldn’t chance another meeting, no matter how much she wanted it. Just this afternoon, she’d figured out how she’d make sure he never found out what had happened.

  She’d send him a letter explaining that she wasn’t Sarah, but Sarah’s younger cousin, who had spent these three days in Arizona while Sarah was gone. The “cousin” would then simply disappear, and B.J. could verify that Sarah’s cousin, who was mentally unbalanced, had paid a surprise visit and stayed at the house. B.J. would fill Sarah in on the whole thing, too, so she’d back up the story.

  The plan wasn’t perfect, but B.J. was counting on the fact that Jonas wouldn’t want to spread the word that he’d indulged in erotic activities with a woman he didn’t even know. When the woman vanished, he might be embarrassed that she hadn’t wanted him enough to stick around.

  At the bedroom doorway he took a deep breath. “I’m glad you didn’t change the candles. Or the music.”

  “I was hoping they would trigger your response.” The scent and the music certainly had an effect on her. The tops of her inner thighs were already damp.

  “Consider my response triggered.” His voice dropped to a low murmur. “But you’re not naked tonight.”

  She whirled in a panic. “Are you peeking?”

  “No. I promised I wouldn’t. But I heard something rustle. It sounds like…like something I’ve heard before.”

  Then she realized that Jonas had seen the chaps and vest when she’d worn them on the television program. She didn’t want him to make the connection. “I went shopping today and found this outfit.”

  “It doesn’t sound like silk and satin.”

  “No, it’s leather.”

  He stopped dead in the middle of the hall. “Leather? Maybe we need to talk. The bondage thing last night was great, but I’m really not into whips and chains.”

  She smiled and tugged on his hand. “Don’t worry. This is about pleasure, not pain.”

  “Good. You had me going for a minute.”

  “Well, just relax and enjoy it.” She led him over to the bed and gazed at the T-shirt. Taking it off could dislodge his blindfold. She wondered if he’d done that on purpose.

  “I want to touch you.” He reached for her.

  “Soon.” She stepped back, still thinking about his T-shirt. He might be planning to arouse her so thoroughly that she’d forget about everything but getting him naked. And if she pulled off his blindfold while yanking off his shirt, then he couldn’t be blamed for that.

  “Take off your jeans,” she murmured.

  “What about my shirt?”

  “I think that shirt is a trap, so I want to leave it on for now.”

  His laugh was low and sexy. “It’s not a trap, Sarah. I was hoping this time you’d undress me.”

  “And when I pulled your shirt over your head, the blindfold would accidentally come with it?”

  “You’re more clever than I am. I didn’t think of that. No, I didn’t want you to pull it over my head. It’s an old shirt. I want you to rip it off me.”

  The idea hit her with a jolt of excitement. “One of your fantasies?”

  “Yes.”

  She approached him. “I can do that.”

  “But first let me touch you,” he begged. “I’m going crazy not being able to touch your body.”

  “All right.” She took his hands and placed them on her shoulders. “See if you can discover what I’m wearing.”

  Breathing faster, he caressed the material with a light touch. “A suede vest.”

  “That’s right.”

  “What color?”

  “Black.” She eased his shirt from the waistband of his jeans.

  He slid both hands under the vest. “Oh, Lord. And nothing underneath.” He cupped her breasts. “I wish I could see how you look.”

  “Imagine.”

  “I’m imagining. I can’t believe how you fill my hands. I never thought—I never thought I’d find such a perfect fit, as if my hands were made to hold you this way.”

  She moaned as he kneaded her breasts. His caress was the only one she’d ever want, and after tonight she’d never feel it again.

  “Does it make you wet when I do this?” He stroked her nipples with his thumbs.

  Being bold came so easily when she was in disguise. She tipped her pelvis forward. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”


  His breath caught. Sliding one hand down to her belly, he touched the fringed belt that held up the chaps. Then he explored lower. “Chaps,” he whispered. “Perfect access. Damn, but I want you. Heaven help me, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman before.” He slipped his fingers into her heat. “I want those suede-covered thighs to spread for me.”

  It took all her willpower to ease away from him. His talented fingers worked far too well and far too fast. This time she wanted her orgasm to blend with his. “That will happen,” she said in a husky voice. “But not quite yet. Stand still as a statue now. No touching.”

  “You’re torturing me.”

  “And you love it.”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “Hold still.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, using her tongue to lick and probe his mouth until he was panting. All the while she searched out a small rip in his shirt.

  “I want you naked,” she murmured against his mouth. “I want you stripped the way you were last night, writhing on the bed, begging, pleading.”

  He groaned.

  She bit his lip softly. “I’m so hot for you that I could come just thinking of you naked. I’m going to rip the clothes from your body and then I’m going to lick every inch of you.” She pulled hard on the T-shirt. The sound of tearing material fired her up even more, and soon she’d shredded the shirt and tossed it to the floor.

  Then she pressed her mouth to his heaving chest while she nipped and licked her way over his salty skin.

  “Let me…hold you,” he said, gasping.

  “Not yet.” She fumbled with the button and the zipper of his jeans while she licked her way down to his waistband. By the time she set him free, she was right there, ready to take his penis into her mouth. He tasted sinful and so very, very delicious.

  “Don’t…” he moaned. “Don’t or I’ll—”

  Reluctantly she lifted her mouth. “I know. And I have more…more planned.”

  “Oh, Lord, Sarah.”

  “The longer you can hold out—”