Mine Until Morning

by Jasmine Haynes

  The man was so deliciously intense about sex, yet so easygoing about everything else. Except when he’d gotten upset about the tow truck. She couldn’t blame him, though. She’d never met anyone like him. He could eclipse her troubles, her responsibilities, make her think of only the moment, only the physical, only the pleasure.

  “Tell me what you want first.” He seduced her with her own fantasies.

  “Get me naked and kiss every inch of my back. It’s very sensitive.” She could damn near come that way.

  He made quick, expert work of her shirt, bra, pants, and thong. Practice makes perfect. She wouldn’t think about all the women he’d brought to the restaurant or what he did with them afterward, or how much practice he’d had. It wasn’t her business anyway.

  “Stomach,” he ordered, and when she complied, he pulled the blankets over them, covered her with his body, then his lips.

  “Oh.” She moaned as he licked. “Ah,” she murmured as he nipped. “Holy Moly.” He stroked, sucked her skin into his mouth, probably giving her hickeys, and she groaned. God, yes, she could come like this. He made her wet and ready. “That is so perfect. I’m almost glad you’ve had a lot of practice.”

  He pinched her ass, and she squealed, laughing, then flipped to her back.

  “You have too many clothes on.”

  “I’m not done kissing your back yet.”

  “Strip, Walker. Now. You don’t want to make me unhappy.”

  He shook his head, wriggling and rustling beneath the blankets. The top of her head was cold, but beneath the soft wool, she was burning up.

  “I love this,” she whispered. She loved how special he made her feel. Her life moved so fast, rushing from home to school to work to home to the restaurant 130

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  and finally back home, where the most she could manage was brushing her teeth and hanging her clothes up. At least most of the time. He made the world stop spinning.

  His head poked up above the blanket. “I love it more.”

  She hadn’t meant for him to hear, but the man was a tease, and he didn’t miss a thing.

  “I’m naked”—he rubbed all that hard muscle and skin against her—“so now what do you want?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “You should make me come.”

  He stroked down her abdomen, to her navel, then between her legs. “Christ, you’re wet.” He blazed a trail all the way back up, circling her nipple with her own moisture, then pinching hard.

  “Oh my God.” Her body arched, almost rising right off the quilt. The man was capable of simple yet amazing things.

  “Don’t come yet,” he told her.

  “Not yet,” she promised before he sent her blood humming through her veins and set her skin buzzing.

  Disappearing beneath the blanket, he kissed and licked his way from her breasts to her belly to her sex. She spread her legs with a sigh of pleasure and a moan of anticipation.

  “God, you’re pretty.” He was barely discernible under all that wool. She laughed. “You can’t even see.”

  “I see, woman, I see, and you’re gorgeous.” He plied her with a finger, teasing her clit, sliding knuckle-deep inside her, then out, circling, stroking, charging all her little electrons.

  “Lick me,” she begged.

  He would not be rushed, blowing on her clit, a warm caress, stroking her thighs, then finally, finally licking the lips of her pussy, so close, closer, until he sucked her clit between his lips and teased with his tongue.

  “Oh God.” Surely this was heaven.

  His chuckle vibrated against her, through her. She ran her hands over his bald crown. Nothing had ever felt so delicious or erotic as all that bare skin beneath her fingertips.

  She was cold and hot. She was right there in the moment yet soaring in the sky above. The chirp of crickets surrounded them, everywhere, and an owl 131

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  hooted, his mate answering in the distance. The stars sparkled through the trees, one shooting across the sky. She didn’t wish on it. For this moment, she had everything she could ask for.

  Then he made her scream.

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  CHRIST, IT WAS THE SWEETEST SOUND. HER CRY, HER PLEASURE. Walker crawled up her body, planting himself on top of her. She still trembled, breathing hard.

  He nuzzled her ear. “Was it good?”

  She harrumphed. “You know it was.”

  Her taste had flooded his mouth, her cries filling the night, her thighs tight around him. He enjoyed making a woman give in to her pleasure. But he’d lost himself in making Cleo come. The act was unique—he couldn’t say why, or rather it was a myriad of reasons. Because she wasn’t paying him to give her power. Because he gave himself with full expectation of getting something in return, and he needed that something badly. Because he would have her even if she said no. Because he knew she couldn’t say no. Braced on his elbows above her, he held her face between his hands. “I’m going to fuck you, Cleo.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t even open her eyes.

  “Look at me.”

  Starlight sparkled in her pupils. “Yes, please, Walker, I want it.” Then she pulled his head down, taking his lips, whispering, “Thank you,” as she kissed him.

  He’d laid out a condom strategically, and he slipped down to lay by her side as he rolled it on. She nuzzled and kissed him, her hair brushing his face. Touching her breast, her nipple, he leaned in. “You wanna ride?”

  She shook her head, wafting her sweet scent all over him. “I’m a missionary girl. Hold my buns in your hands and drive deep.”

  “I like a woman who knows exactly what she wants.”

  Blanketing her body with his, he pulled the covers tight around their shoulders to keep her warm. She opened her legs, and he filled the vee, his cock brushing her. She cupped his head in both hands, stroked her fingers across his bare scalp. “I need you inside me. Hard, fast, and deep.”

  He plunged, and she cried out. “Oh God, that’s good.” She breathed deep, settled, laid her head back, and sighed deliciously. “It’s been soooo long since I’ve had a man on top of me.”

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  She’d had a child, yet her body welcomed him, tightened around him, milked him as she squirmed.

  “How long?” He nuzzled her hair, taking her with just a flex of his ass.

  “Months. Last year sometime.” She opened her eyes wide. “Oh my God, more than a year. Heidi was in middle school.”

  A freaking year. She was too hot and gorgeous to go without sex for a year.

  “I’ve got a lot to make up for, then.”

  “You’re going to spoil me.”

  “Never.” But he would if she let him. Grabbing her butt, he hauled her higher, the way she’d told him to. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby.”

  He stroked deep and slow, riding her G-spot. She moaned for him, and he knew he’d hit it just right.

  “Oh, Walker, yeah, that’s perfect.”

  The slow and steady slide did it. Her body trembled beneath his. She moaned, then, losing her voice, she simply clung to him. Her body clenched and rippled around him as she came, shooting him closer to the edge.

  “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she chanted. She’d come down off the high, but needed more.

  So did Walker.

  With the night sounds all around them, the caress of cold air, her body’s heat and softness, her sweet scent, he steeped himself in her essence. When he felt her rise once more, he pumped faster, harder, and this time her climax wrenched the orgasm from him. He added his shout to the night.

  HIS BODY WAS SO WARM, HIS COCK PULSING INSIDE HER. CLEO didn’t want to move. She didn’t want him to leave. She loved the weight of his body on her.

  She hadn’t had this since Phil dumped her, the long moments after sex where you felt like you were one with him. In the four years since, she’d chos
en purely for the physical. Good sex. Nothing emotional. No attachment. God, she’d missed this. You don’t realize until suddenly it whomps you upside the head; this was what made good sex great. His warmth, that uniquely woodsy scent of his. More than just an aftershave, it was innate. The taste of his pre-come still lingered, accompanied by the utterly sublime sense of being filled. She’d never spent a full night with a man, always dragging herself home. She 134

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  didn’t want Heidi missing her or waking up to find a man in the house. Cleo had been fine with that.

  Walker, she wanted to wake up beside him. Just once. Make love to him again.

  He shifted on top of her, easing his weight but not letting her go altogether. Layering tiny kisses along her jawline, he settled again as if he planned to fall asleep where they were.

  Who could say why? What specifically did he do for her? Some men were just ho-hum, part of the landscape. Sometimes you looked at a man, and your heart pitter-pattered and some reptilian part of your brain just went gaga, repeating I want over and over again. That was Walker. He’d teased and flirted for three years. If he’d asked her out, she’d have been a goner. But things went south with Heidi and her libido had gone with it.

  Until Walker turned everything back on again.

  He was dangerous. She didn’t know how she’d be able to turn it all off in the morning.

  God help her, she didn’t want to. If you didn’t have it, you didn’t miss it. But once you had it, man, you were hooked.

  SHE LIVED IN A TIDY LITTLE NEIGHBORHOOD. YEARS AGO, THESE houses were modest, middle-class, single-family homes. Now they were worth upward of a million. Or more. Walker knew her mom didn’t want to sell. Cleo drove what was basically a clunker from the late eighties, and she worked two jobs to make ends meet. Everything could be solved if they sold and moved to Fremont across the bay.

  He stopped in front of the two-story, and shut off the engine. He’d felt her withdrawal with every scrap of clothing she’d put on. They’d been close, connected. Until he pulled out.

  Everything good had to end.

  “Does your mom have a car you can borrow to get to work in the morning?”

  She rubbed her forehead with the flat of her hand. “I’ll take the bus. It stops out on the El Camino. One of the other mothers is carpooling the girls to school this week.”

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  She snorted and gave him a didn’t-we-already-go-over-this look. “Don’t be 135

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  silly.”

  “I can help, Cleo. I’d like to.” He touched her cheek. “I want to. No obligation.”

  There wasn’t enough light in the car to read her expression. “Don’t you ever work?”

  “Flexible hours.” He grinned.

  She didn’t ask what he did, and he dodged the bullet yet again. Holding her gaze, he willed her to accept his offer. He could do this. It was so easy for him. Such a small act in the scheme of things. Small steps led to bigger steps. He’d be good for her. He knew he would. She’d be good for him, too.

  “I hate the bus,” she said, and he knew he’d won. He shouldn’t feel such a surge of triumph, yet it swamped him. “What time shall I pick you up?”

  “Ten to eight would be good.” She put a hand on the door as if she was suddenly nervous of how much she’d given away.

  “Kiss me good night, Cleo.”

  She shuddered.

  He couldn’t let her out of the car without a kiss or an intimate touch. He couldn’t let the distance grow, or by the morning it would be a chasm he couldn’t cross.

  “Just one,” she whispered.

  One was all he needed. For now. Her lips were still plump and well kissed. As he drew her close, the sweet scent of sex rose off her. He opened his mouth, drew her in. Her sigh rippled through him. He could have her again, here and now.

  It struck him how sweetly odd that was for him. He loved pleasuring women, showing them their potential, helping them appreciate their beauty and unique qualities. Which was why he staved off ejaculation until he sensed a woman had surpassed herself, her threshold reached, and gone a tiny bit beyond. Then he released.

  With Cleo, he was a double dipper.

  “Sleep well,” he whispered against her lips, and she climbed from the car as if sleepwalking. He would have walked her to the door, but that felt like pushing his advantage.

  Especially since she’d agreed to let him drive her to work. There were so 136

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  many things he wanted to do for Cleo.

  After tonight, she was on the verge of letting him.

  WALKER HAD ARRIVED EARLY TO PICK HER UP. THANK GOD HEIDI had already left. Cleo hadn’t wanted to explain. So he’d sat in the kitchen drinking coffee and charming her mother while Cleo raced around with those last-minute things. She couldn’t hear every word, but her mother did a lot of cackling punctuated by the low rumble of Walker’s laughter. Oh yeah, Ma had definitely been charmed. Walker could beguile a lady of any age right out of her panties. Having been charmed out of hers, Cleo knew all about that, not to mention the quantity and variety of women he’d entertained at the restaurant.

  She wouldn’t think about that now since she’d been feeling pretty darn chipper all day despite the car and the ceiling. A couple of minutes before five, she switched the messaging system to auto, turned off her computer, straightened the magazines in the lobby, and waved good night as several of the office workers trundled out.

  Walker had said he’d pick her up at five. The thought gave her heart a kick. She’d always done everything, shuttling here, there, and everywhere, rushing, rushing, rushing. She did the carpool thing in the morning when it was her turn, but Heidi took the school bus home in the afternoon. If there was a doctor’s appointment, she had to take time off work. Ma had given up her license a couple of years ago after a couple of incidents. So it was nice to have someone do this for her. Just this once. She hadn’t thought about how she’d pay for the car. She’d worry about it when she knew what was wrong. She’d called Jimmy early. He said he’d try his best to at least take a look today. She’d gone to high school with him, and he knew the car inside and out. She’d call him again when she got home to see what he’d found. Until then, she wasn’t going to worry.

  Walker’s blue luxury sedan rolled into the lot. Her heart gave a happy little jolt. It was scary, but oh so sweet. She’d have ten minutes to enjoy it. Dammit, she would take those ten minutes before she went home, faced Heidi, another fight, maybe, maybe not, then rushed off to the restaurant with a stone in her stomach.

  She gathered her coat and purse as Walker pulled to the front. She’d pushed 137

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  open the lobby door, an idiotic smile on her face. Then she realized he wasn’t alone in the car.

  Oh shit.

  Heidi sat beside him in the passenger seat.

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  9

  CLEO OPENED THE FRONT PASSENGER DOOR. HER HEART BEAT HARD

  against her ribs. What had they been talking about? What had Walker said to her daughter? A whisper of fear spread through her womb. She didn’t need any more problems with Heidi, especially not over a man.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” Walker said, leaning down a little to talk to her through the open car door. “Your mother got busy with dinner and sent Heidi and me to pick you up.”

  Cleo didn’t know what to say. All she could do was nod. Walker waved a hand. “Hop out and let your mom have the front seat, Heidi.”

  “Sure, Walker.” And Heidi did.

  It was amazing. She even smiled at Cleo, though she didn’t say hello or kiss her cheek the way she used to. Too old for that. Too angry. But Walker had . . . done something, created magic. Sure, he put women at ease, made them feel special, appreciated. But charm a teenager, least of all Heidi?

  Guess the problem really was big,
bad MOM, with capital letters. Walker smiled at Cleo as she climbed in and buckled up. “Have a good day?”

  She half expected him to kiss her hello, but he kept his lips to himself. “It was good, thank you.”

  “Walker helped me with my algebra for a couple of hours after school.” Heidi leaned between the two front seats.

  Cleo opened her mouth, but Walker beat her to it. “Belt in, hon, would ya?”

  He winked in the rearview mirror. “Safety first.”

  “Sure, Walker.”

  Cleo slapped her mouth shut before her jaw dropped. Okay. This was most definitely not normal. It was downright frightening. Had her daughter turned into a zombie, a pod person? Walker waited until Heidi was secured before he eased around the parking lot and out onto the road.

  “Thanks for helping on the homework,” Cleo said, trying to regain her equilibrium. What else was there to say, especially since Cleo hated algebra. “I suck at math.” Walker had saved her from being inadequate again. In school, she’d loved anthropology. If she’d finished college, she would have been a 139

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  forensic anthropologist.

  “My pleasure.” He smiled, glancing in the mirror again, then his gaze slid back to Cleo. “I was just taking a look at the toilet and the ceiling and pondering what needed to be done when Heidi got home from school.”

  Another jaw-dropping moment. “You were looking at the toilet?”

  “While I was waiting for you this morning, Ma told me about the ceiling falling in. So I went back to look over things after lunch. Hope that was okay.”

  He was calling her Ma now? “Um, yeah.” But was it?

  “Walker says fixing it will be easy-peasy,” Heidi piped up from the backseat. He thrust a thumb over his shoulder. “Well, not easy. I’ll need some help, but I’ve got a contractor friend.” He shrugged.

  “Gran invited Walker for dinner since he’s going to be working for us.”

  Cleo turned in her seat and stared at Heidi. Walker this, Walker that, and Walker was now working for them?