Jar of Hearts: (Family Stone, # 5 Keisha and Shane) (Family Stone Romantic Suspense)

by Lisa Hughey

  “Yeah. She never got over him.”

  “So, she never got together with anyone else?”

  “She’s had a few men friends.” Shane winced. He really didn’t like to think of his mother that way, which was head-in-the-sand silly of him. She was a grown woman. But she was still his mama.

  “So why are you such a player?”

  He’d grown up with a mother who pined for her dead lover for years. He had no intention of giving away his heart and winding up sad and alone and filled with heartache. The truth was, forever came with a lot of pain.

  So many people had clearly let Keisha down, and he ought to be honest, but this was a subject he’d avoided for years. So he did what he always did and tossed off another truth that was far less revealing. “Because no one could ever compare to my mama.”

  Shane shut down the engine. They were in the parking lot of Keisha’s condo building. It was late. She was illuminated in the shimmering moonlight with her tough clothes, black combat boots, black cargo pants, and a tight black athletic wear shirt that emphasized her round, high breasts and the flat plane of her stomach. She looked like a bad ass.

  But underneath the slick material he could see the satin and lace of her bra.

  And he remembered that earlier, before everything that happened with Shelley, he’d had his hands on those breasts and she’d promised him a viewing of her underwear.

  Shane leaned toward the passenger seat and nuzzled the long column of her neck. He pressed wet openmouthed kisses along her shoulder and eased the tight material aside to catch a glimpse of a pale pink bra strap. The sweet pearly pink was at odds with her tough clothes and her bad ass vibe.

  “You gonna invite me in and show me more of your Victoria’s Secret obsession?” He smiled against her shoulder and prayed she wouldn’t kick him to the curb. A sultry musk and the scent of patchouli and lemon rose from her skin.

  Memories from last night cascaded in his mind and his body reacted as if they were both naked and tangled in her sheets. Right where he wanted to be again tonight. He wanted to have sex with her all night long. Again.

  He was pretty sure that was all he’d get from her.

  He thought about how she’d comforted Shelley. After Keisha was convinced of Shelley’s innocence she’d once again revealed that soft center. And Shane finally realized that the only way to get her to open that gooey center was to be vulnerable. That wasn’t ever going to happen, because his sense of self-preservation was far greater than his wish to have her turn that sweetness on him. But he’d take another night of sex if she’d give it to him.

  Keisha was silent but she wasn’t pushing him away. And her non-reaction gave him hope. If he wasn’t mistaken she’d just tilted her head a little to the right to give him better access to the sweet spot behind her ear.

  Shane pressed a kiss against her skin, gratified by the sensual shiver that shook her body. Uneasy with his urgent need, he fought his near desperation for her, even as he considered how to get her to agree to let him spend the night.

  Keisha shivered. Her nipples sharpened into hard bullets pressing against the delicate lace and tight Under Armour with almost painful intensity. God, she wanted to invite him in.

  Repeat last night. Over and over.

  The sex had been amazing, energetic, and physical. He would wear her out and she’d be unable to worry about the consequences of having him spend a second night in a row at her place.

  Keisha still had her fists clenched against her thighs, fighting the urge to clutch his head to her breast. Somehow she knew that if she touched him, she would be lost. The only place they had contact was Shane’s fingers curled on her top’s neckline and his mouth against her collarbone.

  She wanted to give in. Wanted to lose herself in sex, in him. Even though she knew it was a bad idea because it wasn’t just about sex anymore. They had connected on another level beyond the physical. And she wasn’t sure her heart could stand the pain when they were over. But her heart overruled her head and even though she knew it was a terrible idea, she gave in. “Let’s go inside.”

  “Hot damn,” he breathed against her neck. Shane pressed the unlock button on her seatbelt, freeing her from the safety restraint.

  The dark thrill in his voice was gratifying. She didn’t want to regret tonight. They still had to run the sting tomorrow. But their undercover operation as husband and wife was already mostly over. She could rationalize that the more comfortable they were together the easier the sell to get Don Wallaston to confess would be. But the truth was it didn’t matter if he bought their fake marriage.

  Shane reached for the glove box. “Okay if I bring my weapon inside?”

  Keisha glanced down at the bulge in his cargo pants. “I don’t think you can leave it here.”

  Shane snorted. “Funny. I meant my gun.”

  “Of course.” Keisha was still chuckling over her joke when he took her mouth like a conquering invader. He ate at her lips like a starving man at a banquet. Keisha’s heart quickened and her lady parts combusted. One hand cupped her breast firmly through the sleek material of her shirt. He brushed his thumb back and forth over her distended nipple until she moaned into his mouth.

  Keisha shoved the tight material of his shirt up so that that she could run her hands along his hot, smooth skin, his abs rippled at her light contact. Desire rose between them like searing summer heat on a shimmering blacktop.

  The gearshift dug into her side as Shane half lifted her up so that he could scrape his teeth over her neck and down the sensitive curve of her breast before suckling her tight nipple into his mouth right through the clingy material.

  Keisha undid the snap on his pants and got his zipper down in record time. Shane grunted as she reached inside and found his bare cock. Commando, good lord.

  Damn. She’d forgotten how big he was as she wrapped her hand around his thick length and pumped twice. A drop of pre-come was hot on her palm.

  Shane stopped, rested his forehead against her collarbone. “It’s fucking amazing how hot you get me in such a short amount of time.”

  “Give me a few more minutes and you’ll be even hotter,” she promised.

  He huffed out a laugh. “The front seat of my car was not made for a man my size to get it on.”

  “Come on,” Keisha said with a strange desperation. Her body was aching, on fire, empty and she needed him inside her. “Be adventurous.”

  “Babe.” Shane groaned. “We’ve got to get inside.”

  “You. Inside me. Now.” She rolled through the gap between the front and back seats and shimmied her pants down to her ankles, but her combat boots stopped her progress.

  “I really want to take my time and enjoy that underwear.” Shane was trying to hold out against her desperate need but when she splayed her legs on the leather backseat, her top wet from his mouth, and her scent rising from the pale pink triangle of lace that covered her mound, she knew she had him. As his gaze dropped to her pussy, she watched him lose the battle.

  “Enjoy it later.”

  Shane climbed through the opening, fairly smoothly for a man his size. His cock jutted from the open V of his pants, thick, wide, pre-come beading on the dark tip.

  And she moaned.

  Her whole body clenched at the sight of his magnificent muscled abs and the knowledge that very soon he would be buried deep inside her weeping sex.

  “Babe.” He rolled a condom on. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this twenty feet from your front door.”

  “Now.”

  Shane pushed aside the pearly pink thong, his fingers coated with her slickness, and Keisha moaned again. Then he slid home.

  There was no other word for it.

  Her pants hobbled her legs and made it difficult to spread wide. As he rocked in and out of her slick heat, his cock hit all of her zones, her g-spot, her clit. His hips rocked hard against her partially open thighs, effectively bracketing him.

  He knelt between her legs, his feet hung
over the edge of the seat, and his shoulders blocked out all the light from the parking lot, bathing his face in shadows.

  His expression was fierce as he braced one arm on the back head rest and slid his large palm under her ass. Then he lifted her, changing the angle of penetration and suddenly Keisha hurtled over the edge as she flew apart and disintegrated into a million little pieces. She contracted around his thick invasive cock, and Shane groaned and stiffened. She rejoiced as he flew with her. His cock pulsed inside her, his head thrown back, his muscles tight, gripped in the throes of release.

  Her heart was pounding so loudly it was a wonder she didn’t wake the neighbors.

  Shane was breathing hard as if he’d just run the O course in record time.

  “Damn, babe.” He brushed a stray lock of hair from her sweat dampened cheek and then nuzzled her neck in an uncharacteristic display of sweetness. “You about killed me.”

  The windows were fogged and the interior of the car was scented with them. The sweet musk of Shane, Keisha, and explosive sex.

  She inhaled deeply and held the scent inside her trying to commit this moment to her memory banks. Little tremors still rocked her, his semi-hard cock inside her, his rough hairy thighs between her softer ones, his balls snugged tight against her swollen sex, the restriction of her pants around her ankles, and the contraction of his stomach muscles against hers as he basically held an extended pushup.

  His bunched biceps were as thick as her thighs, and his chest was wider than her door frame. The brother was built. She was no giant, but his bulk made her feel almost delicate, feminine.

  Shane groaned again. And although she’d like to think it was her sexy personality. She was pretty sure he needed to move from his contorted position. “You need to move?”

  “Hell, no. Let’s stay like this all night.” He nuzzled her again. “If I could keep you locked up back here, naked and sweet and open, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

  The words should have pushed her buttons, gotten her back up. But his rough admission just made her want to start on round two. “Why don’t we continue this conversation inside?” Her voice had softened as she thought about how uncomfortable he must be right now.

  Her butt was stuck to the leather seat and her back was about to start cramping.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Shane smiled and Keisha’s heart tumbled. “God I love that sweetness. I love that you just turned it on me.”

  It was too late to try to bring back the attitude. She’d have it back in place tomorrow but right now, his sweet was working for her too.

  With a silent, unexpected thud, she fell. She knew better and still she wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that softness, that gentleness in his words, and wish that he’d be there for her forever, that she could count on him not to let her down.

  Eight

  The next morning, Keisha strode to Shane’s Charger, putting a little extra swing in her hips since she knew he was behind her. Her high heels clicked against the asphalt in a confident rhythm. Last night had been amazing. Again.

  He groaned. “You’re trying to kill me.”

  She let her lips curl and a lightness filled her. She felt good. Happy. She tossed a saucy look over her shoulder and felt like laughing. Her. Laughing.

  “If the shoe fits….”

  “Those shoes should be illegal.” Shane had sidled up behind her, his body molded behind hers, one thick forearm wrapped around her waist, his chest warm against her back and her butt snugged up against his groin. “Later, I want to see you in just that pale yellow lace bra and panty set and those pumps. Then I’m going to fuck you against the wall.”

  Her whole body softened and her sex went wet at his words. That was the reason they were late this morning.

  They’d gotten distracted when he’d come out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets sprinkled on his skin. And she’d been half dressed in her pastel yellow lace demi bra that pushed her breasts up and together accenting her cleavage, a matching thong, and her snakeskin pumps with a pale yellow heel that matched her lingerie. She knew they made her legs look good.

  They’d taken one look at each other and within seconds, he’d had her flat on the bed, and was buried inside her while her heels dug into his butt and he powered in and out of her.

  Keisha’s knees went weak at the memory. “Sounds good,” she said breathlessly.

  They slid into the car. Shane looked pretty good himself. He’d replenished his Go Bag sometime yesterday, and was wearing khakis, a white button down that emphasized the burnished ebony of his skin, and penny loafers.

  “Pop the glove box and put this inside for me, would you babe?” He handed her his weapon and then started the car.

  She opened the glove box and that’s when she saw it. When the sexual glow from last night, and this morning, evaporated in a searing moment of pain. The diamond earring sparkled in the warm light from inside the glove box. The woman’s jewelry was a glaring visual reminder that Shane Washington was a player.

  She pressed her lips together and her mouth turned down.

  “What’s wrong?” Shane had instantly intuited her change in mood. He clasped her chin gently and turned her head so that she was forced to look at him.

  “Nothing.” Her body was stiff as she continued to process the implications of that earring. “We’re already late. We should get going.”

  “Babe. I know you. It’s not nothing.”

  Keisha blinked slowly, tried to hide her emotions from him. He didn’t know her. He knew the her that gave in to his charm and her own traitorous body. Not the her that protected her heart at all costs. “Maybe I’m just prepping for this takedown.” It was going to be a delicate situation.

  “That’s not it either.”

  “Fine. I was just reminded that you’re a player.”

  “Why are you bringing that up again? Because our sex is off that charts?” he asked with frustration. “It’s off the charts because of us, together. We combust.”

  “I’m sure you…combust with plenty of women.”

  “Jesus, Keish. I’m with you right now.” But then as if he realized that she’d backed off when she opened the glove box, Shane peered inside. “What did you see?”

  Keisha shrugged.

  But Shane wouldn’t let it go. She should have known he’d be a bull dog when it came to getting to the bottom of her attempted dismissal.

  He didn’t even seem to see the incriminating evidence. “Come on, Keish. At least give me the courtesy of an answer, and a chance to defend myself against whatever perceived problem you’ve got with me now.”

  “Why do you care?” she snapped.

  “Hell if I know. But I do,” Shane snapped right back. “Tell. Me.”

  Finally she recognized the determination in his narrowed gaze, relented, and just told him what was bothering her. “The earring.”

  “What about it?”

  “You can’t be that obtuse,” she said.

  “It belongs to a client,” Shane said with exasperation. “She’s one of the clients who gets extra service. I do a lot of business with her company. I dropped her and her husband off at home after they got back from a business trip to San Francisco. Then I found it in the backseat when I was cleaning my car.”

  Keisha stayed quiet. She’d jumped to conclusions. But maybe that was just her brain trying to spare her future heartache. Because she was pretty sure that she was in too deep to totally avoid pain.

  “Hey,” Shane said gruffly. “Next time. Ask me. Don’t just assume.”

  Next time. As if there would be a next time. Keisha crossed her arms over her chest, she knew the posture was defensive but she was feeling the need to protect herself any way she could.

  “There will be a next time,” Shane insisted. “Okay?”

  “We’d better get on the road.”

  He sighed and put the car in gear.

  And she knew this discussion wasn’t over.
/>   ***

  They entered the offices of Food for Life only a few minutes late.

  The offices were built in a small corner of the warehouse. The walls had been painted a cheery pale teal, and gray linoleum covered the cold industrial cement floor. In the middle of the room, two standard office desks with fake wood veneer circa 1970 faced each other, and the wall was lined with old metal filing cabinets. A bulletin board, pinned with flyers printed on neon paper advertising the various fundraisers and donation days, was on the wall right inside the door.

  On the same wall as the door were two large windows with a view of the parking lot and the semi-trucks ready to be loaded with shrink-wrapped pallets of boxed food. Shane put a proprietary hand in the small of Keisha’s back, determined to let everyone know she was his. Silly, but the move was the civilized man’s equivalent of the caveman marking his territory.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Washington.” Monica Peterson was dressed to work in the warehouse but the rest of the room’s occupants were in business suits. And while Shane could care less about fitting in and the ‘uniform’ of the casually wealthy, he knew that this group would take him more seriously if he looked like one of them.

  Keisha had obviously thought the same. Dressed in her black suit, short black skirt, tight pale yellow cami, a crop black jacket and those killer pumps she projected class and confidence. He loved her in her black cargo pants and tight Under Armour, but those pumps seriously kicked up his heart rate. He vowed he was going to have those shoes digging into his butt another time.

  Shelley was there looking fairly nervous. Shane tried to give her a reassuring smile but he wasn’t positive it worked when she blanched and ran a hand down her tan skirt.

  Bob Michaels, the Chairman, kept clicking his pen. He’d been informed that they’d identified the culprit but they didn’t tell him who it was. They needed the edge of surprise so they could get Wallaston to confess.

  Jack Stone had come as backup but his main priority was to protect Shelley.

  “Why don’t we all get more comfortable,” Bob Michaels suggested. They’d prepped him ahead of time so that he’d know they wanted everyone corralled into one room. “Let’s head into the conference room.”