by MI
She stiffened in preparation when he moved to tug the second clamp free. He repeated the same ministrations, helping to turn the pain into something more pleasurable. He took his time, acknowledging how easy it would be to spend hours playing with her breasts. They were full and sensitive.
Then he felt her stir. He lifted his head and found her eyes on his. He knew what she wanted, but the selfish man inside wanted to hear it from her lips.
“Say it,” he prompted.
“Please,” she whispered. “I need you.”
Heaven to his ears. He didn’t bother to look at the clock. It was close enough. Reaching above her head, he released her ankles, then her hands. He removed the bullet, tossing it aside.
“Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on, love.”
She followed his command, gasping when he placed his cock at her opening. The plug was still in her ass, but he didn’t plan to remove it. It would only heighten the pleasure. Then he paused.
“Shit. Condom.”
He started to reach for the nightstand, but she halted him. “Do you have to use one?”
He frowned. “I’m clean, Jen, but—”
“So am I. And I’m on birth control.”
He blew out a long, hard breath. He’d never taken a woman without a condom. Not once. In his entire life. Neither one of his previous long-term girlfriends had been able to take the Pill without getting sick, so he had been in charge of taking the necessary precautions.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
She nodded. “Come inside me.”
There was a double meaning to her request. And both offers were too good to pass up.
Caliph pushed in slowly, his chest constricting as he forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt anything so powerful, so freaking amazing.
As much as he tried to savor the moment, to prolong the beauty of it, his measured pace didn’t help. Jennifer had been riding the razor’s edge too long. She shook beneath him and he realized she was still trying to hold off. He pressed in to the hilt, leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Come for me, Jen.”
He started to move, just a slight withdrawal before pushing deeper. It was all she needed. Her body stiffened as she released a loud, keening cry. Her inner muscles clamped down on his aching cock and she dragged her fingernails down his bare back—leaving some serious artwork of her own on his skin.
Caliph closed his eyes and fought to regulate his breathing. He didn’t want this to end too soon. He rode out the storm of her powerful orgasm, then—when calmness began to descend once more—he thrust harder, choosing his favorite rhythm, speed.
Jennifer wrapped her legs tighter around him, spurring him on, accepting his rough claiming. When her pussy clenched again, he realized she was on the verge of yet another orgasm. He’d never be able to resist coming this time.
Jennifer trembled with the second orgasm and Caliph joined her, giving in to his own pleasure. The impact of his climax would have knocked him down had he been standing. Jet after jet of come exploded from him, each pulse sending electricity up and down his spine.
What a weekend.
As soon as he was able to move—his strength had deserted him—he fell to her side, pleased when Jennifer rolled, curling against his chest, soft and warm as a newborn kitten. She was asleep within seconds. He wouldn’t be far behind. Caliph tucked her closer with an arm around her shoulders, enjoying the feel of her next to him. For the first time, it felt like someone belonged here. With him. In his bed.
Jennifer fit.
He’d told her she was a blank canvas, that her future was hers to design, to color. But now he wondered if he hadn’t been a bit blank himself. The colorful life he thought he’d been living suddenly felt bland, a whole lot of off-white and gray. In a few short days, Jennifer had added shocking reds, cool blues and vivid purples, opening his eyes to opportunities he’d never considered.
His eyes drifted closed, a heavy warmth coursing through him.
Then he contemplated what happened when the weekend came to a close and the contentment started to wane as reality crashed around him.
The next move wasn’t his to make.
It was hers.
Chapter Seven
Jennifer tightened her grip around Caliph’s waist as the motorcycle sped up. She’d spotted the Harley in Caliph’s driveway as they had walked toward his car and admitted she’d never ridden on one. He had taken her admission as something akin to a mortal sin, thrown a helmet on her head and now they were headed to Midnight Ink to retrieve her car.
Sunday had arrived and the weekend was officially over.
They had spent most of the day—and two nights—before in his bed and had only woken up a couple hours earlier, after which they’d showered together. She had joked that they both looked as if they’d been ridden hard and put away wet, after she complained about her stiff muscles and he winced when he tried to put a shirt on over the deep scratches she’d left on his back.
Breakfast had been a quiet affair, both of them talking about a whole bunch of nothing. Truth was Jennifer hadn’t known what to say, so she’d filled the silence with nonsense about the weather and past Mardi Gras parties.
She’d been both relieved and disappointed when they’d hopped on the motorcycle because it didn’t give them an opportunity to talk on the way to the shop.
Caliph took the long way to Midnight Ink, treating her to a quick ride on Pontchartrain Expressway so he could rev up the motor and gain some serious speed. She clung tighter to his waist, enjoying the roar of the engine, the vibrations, the sense of flying. Just when she thought Caliph couldn’t make this weekend any more amazing, he found a way to take her breath away once more. She’d been in a constant state of exhilaration and it was addictive.
As he pulled up to the tattoo shop, her heart began to race. The idea of not seeing him again was extremely unappealing. For a split second, she even considered signing on for another tattoo just to prolong their association, but she quickly dismissed that idea with a soft laugh.
Caliph dismounted the bike, then helped her off. She handed him the helmet.
“What did you think of the ride?”
She knew he was asking about the spin on the motorcycle, but her sex-soaked mind went straight back to the bedroom. “It was incredible.” There…that covered it all.
Caliph was obviously pleased by her response. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I was afraid I’d scare you.”
“Never.” She’d never spoken a truer word. Then her mouth went dry. This was it. “Well…”
Jennifer’s brain failed as she sought for something to say. Some way to tell him what this weekend had meant to her. And to ask for more.
She’d never do that. It wasn’t in her chemical makeup to be so assertive. At work, she could make her wishes known clearly and without hesitance, but when it came to grasping anything for herself, she floundered like a fish out of water. Hell, when Marcus told her he was having an affair and asked for the divorce, she’d merely nodded. It wasn’t until he’d packed up all his stuff and left the house that she found the raging words she wished she’d said.
And as far as this affair with Caliph was concerned, she knew what she wanted, but she didn’t feel confident enough to say it aloud only to have him reject her. She’d ridden the rejection train before and, quite frankly, it sucked.
Unfortunately, Caliph had taken her on adventures her sex-starved, fairly vivid imagination hadn’t even thought to conjure up. He hadn’t just ruined her for other men. He’d made sure she wouldn’t be able to escape into her books anymore without wishing she were the heroine and he the hero in every story. So much for fictional therapy.
“I had a really great time.” The inane words were nearly accompanied by a wince, but she managed to school her features just in time.
Caliph nodded slowly. “So did I. You’re an incredible woman, Jen.”
She wasn’t feeling very incredible right now. In fac
t, all she felt was pure terror. So she instituted the standard quick escape. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”
She backed up her lame farewell with the most ridiculous platonic hug in history. God, she gave her distant cousin, the one she only saw every third year at the family reunions, a more familiar embrace.
Caliph was frowning when she stepped away, but she couldn’t summon enough courage to do more than lift her hand in a lighthearted wave before she turned and all but sprinted to her car.
By the time she’d buckled herself into the driver’s seat and found the nerve to turn around and look back toward the shop, Caliph had entered the building.
She fell forward as she lightly pounded her forehead on the steering wheel.
“Stupid fucking girl,” she muttered, completely disgusted with herself.
What the hell had she done?
The answer resounded in her head like a cathedral bell. She’d reverted to character. The Jennifer who’d arrived at Caliph’s house on Friday night had returned with a vengeance, running like a scared mouse at the first sign of rejection.
God, she was an idiot.
She hated that woman. The one who’d sat quietly and let her husband of seventeen years break her heart and walk away without one word of anger. The one who’d wasted a year of her life mourning over a man who didn’t deserve her.
The one who’d just let the coolest, hottest, kindest man she’d ever met go without telling him exactly how wonderful he was.
If she could manage the position, she felt the overwhelming desire to get out of the car and kick her own ass.
No. Screw this. This life. This eternal hell.
She wanted more and, by God, she was going for it.
Before she could think of any reason why it was a bad idea, she was out of her car and standing at the door to Midnight Ink. She pushed the door open with way more force than she should have, the bell above it making her jump as it jingled.
While her arrival seemed unnervingly showy to her, it didn’t appear to have caught anyone’s notice.
“Caliph,” she said, louder than she’d intended. The only other person in the shop was a woman Jennifer hadn’t seen before. She assumed this was Rosie, the female tattoo artist Caliph had mentioned.
Caliph glanced up. He’d been standing next to his chair, staring into his cup of coffee like a zombie.
“Jen?”
“I don’t, I mean, I was hoping…” God, she sounded like a complete tool.
“Say it.”
His tone was one of pure command, the sound reminding her of everything that had passed between them. It spoke to her on some level she’d never acknowledged or noticed prior to this weekend with him. And it left her so damn hot, she felt as if she could burst into flames.
“I want to see you again.”
She could feel the other woman staring at her, but Jennifer pushed through her embarrassment, her nervousness. She’d spent two days and only a handful of hours prior to the weekend with Caliph, yet he’d done more to help her find her feet, her strength than months’ worth of conversations with well-meaning friends after her divorce. “I’d really like to go out with you again.”
She held his gaze and let her words stand, willing to take this risk. If he told her he wasn’t interested, she would be hurt. But she wouldn’t fall apart. She wasn’t the fragile woman Marcus had left nearly a year ago. She’d proven she could pick up the pieces and move on. There was a big difference between needing a man in your life and wanting one.
And she wanted this one…for as long as it lasted. If that wasn’t forever, then so be it. There were plenty of other fish in the sea, petals on her daisy. One day, she’d find the one who would love her for who she was, who would make her happy. And even if she didn’t, she intended to live a life without regrets.
Caliph grinned. “I’d like to keep seeing you too.”
“You would?” Damn insecure Jennifer crept out at the most annoying times.
Caliph didn’t seem to mind. He laughed. “Yeah. I would. In fact, I’d like to nail down our next date right now. Make this decision official before you try to run away again. You realize that was the worst morning-after goodbye in history, right?”
She laughed, relief flowing through her like a hot shower on a cold winter’s night. “Yeah. My brain wasn’t fully functioning back there. Luckily it caught up to my stupid mouth before I drove away.”
He walked over to her. “So what about that date?”
“I’m free next weekend.”
He shook his head. “Too far away. Dinner. Tomorrow night.”
Jennifer didn’t even need to consider her schedule. She’d make it work. “Deal. I’ll cook for you at my place to make up for being such a jackass.”
Caliph grasped her hand and pulled her closer. “Food is a good way to apologize, but I can think of a better one.”
“Dirty bastard.”
He wrapped his arm around her and pinched her ass as she giggled. “Don’t remember hearing any complaints when I had you tied to my bed yesterday.”
Jennifer had forgotten they weren’t alone until she heard the woman at the next station laugh.
“TMI,” the other woman joked.
Caliph chuckled, then did the introductions. “Jen, this is Rosie. Rosie, this is Jennifer.”
Like Sassy, Rosie was sporting some fun colored streaks in her hair, not to mention some serious ink on her arms and collarbone. For a moment, Jennifer considered asking Rosie where she got her hair done. She wouldn’t mind adding a bit of color—maybe purple—to her own long tresses.
Rosie gave her a quick up-and-down glance. “So this is the daisy tattoo girl.”
Jennifer looked at Caliph curiously.
Rosie answered her unspoken question. “He was a maniac last week, waiting—not very patiently—to see you again on Friday. Glad to see you two had a good time.”
“We did.”
Rosie studied Caliph’s face. “And I’m glad to hear you’re willing to see him again tomorrow. Something tells me he’s not going to get you out of his system for quite a while.”
Jennifer laughed, flattered to hear he had been looking forward to their date as much as her. “I hope not.”
Her quick response appeared to have won Rosie’s approval. The pretty tattoo artist looked at Caliph. “Well done, my friend.”
The bell jangled over the door as a handsome, hulking blond man entered.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Rosie’s face lit up as she walked away from them without a second glance.
Caliph leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “That’s Finn. I haven’t been the only maniac around here lately. Finn seems to make the rest of us mortals disappear in Rosie’s world.”
Jennifer understood the feeling. Whenever she was with Caliph, it felt as if they were the only two people on the planet.
“You in a hurry?” Caliph asked her.
She shook her head. One of the best parts of her job was that she—as senior hotel manager—got the weekends off.
“Good. Come here.”
Caliph grasped her hand and tugged her through a door that led to a storage area in the back. He threw the lock on the door.
“What are you—”
Her question was cut off when Caliph grabbed her, kissing her so passionately her head spun. The embrace could have lasted for minutes or months for all Jennifer knew.
When he finally released her, he looked at her with stern, serious eyes. “I should punish you for that stunt you pulled in the parking lot. I thought you were really leaving.”
“I thought I was too.”
“What stopped you?”
“I’m tired of being a doormat.” The words flew out without thought and she realized they weren’t entirely correct. “I can’t keep standing on the sidelines of my own life like some uninterested observer. I felt more alive this past weekend than I have in years. God, maybe even decades. It was a good feeling.”
&nbs
p; The laugh lines beside his eyes became more pronounced as she spoke. His smile grew wider.
“We’re complete opposites, Caliph, and maybe this fling is just going to be that. A fling. But for now, it’s exactly what I need.”
Caliph tilted his head and studied her face. “I’m cool with riding this out, seeing where it takes us. The weekend wasn’t enough for me, Jen. I want more of you.”
Her stomach fluttered at his admission—with anticipation and desire. “I can’t imagine there’s much of me left to claim. You explored a hell of a lot of uncharted territory this weekend.”
He laughed. “Oh, trust me, love. We haven’t even touched the tip of the iceberg.”
She made a face, pretending to be worried, which made him laugh louder.
“In fact,” he said as he reached out and grasped her waist, pulling her hips against his, “I think we should seal this dating deal with a kiss.”
“Just a kiss?” she asked when his lips were a mere breath away from hers.
“We’ll start with that. Then see where it leads.” He ran his hands over her ass, squeezing them firmly. “After all, there’s nothing I love more than covering this pretty canvas of yours with color.”
She rubbed her cheek against his, savoring the sensation of her soft to his rough. “Pervert,” she whispered.
Caliph laughed. “Definitely. But you’re kinky, so that makes us even.”
Jennifer turned at the same time as Caliph, their lips finding each other’s, though neither of them sought to turn the touch into a kiss. “Caliph?”
“Hmm?”
“Have you ever had sex back here?”
He chuckled. “Nope.”
“Wanna do something really wicked?”
He laughed, then tugged on her hair with just enough force to get her engine revving. “I might have a few things we could try, kinky girl. Take off your clothes.”
About Mari Carr
Writing a book was number one on Mari Carr’s bucket list and on her thirty-fourth birthday, she set out to see that goal achieved. Now her computer is jammed full of stories — novels, novellas, short stories and dead-ends. A New York Times and USA TODAY bestseller as well as winner of the Passionate Plume, Mari finds time for writing by squeezing it into the hours between 3 a.m. and daybreak when her family is asleep and the house is quiet.