The stall door opened and she held a wad of toilet paper up to her nose then tossed it in the trash. She had been crying. Those douche bags must have kept at it when he’d left. Maybe he didn’t care about making a scene if it meant satisfying his odd need to do right by her.
“Hey sweetheart, what’s a matter?” he asked. No woman should be left alone, crying. Stefan had no doubt in his ability to cheer her up. If she’d let him, he’d take her to a very happy place right alongside him.
“Men,” she said, obviously trying to be strong in front of him with her throat clearing and tall neck. “Not a big fan of them right now.”
He fought to keep himself from grinning. She was serious, he should be too. Stefan found that he liked her too much to piss that away.
“Me neither,” he said. “They can be such dicks.”
He thought that would have made her laugh but she just launched into a painful set of tears that made him shift from his eyes to his feet. Stefan hated seeing women cry or be hurt. He worshipped them way too much for that shit. It was uncomfortable and he needed to make it stop.
“Hey, don’t cry. Come here.” He wished he knew her name. Who in their right mind would insult such a beauty? Jackasses. The thing was she’d kicked that pump like a hot-blooded woman, not some delicate flower who’d crumble because of a few slimy words.
That being said, something had happened to bring on the waterworks. He tucked her into his arm and led her back into the stall, sensing she wouldn’t want to be seen like this by anyone. He closed them into the cramped space.
Oh fuck, big mistake. His cock leapt to attention faster than he’d expected.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asked him blankly, distracting him from her tense, hot shoulders and the way he wanted to surround her with his. She was curvy but he was still much larger than her. It was a huge turn on and a call to the way he wanted to dominate her.
Should she be letting him get this close?
It only took him a second to guess that could be her problem. He’d seen it a thousand times. The tougher the girl, the more fragile the self-esteem. Those girls—women, he corrected after glancing down her voluptuous body. Those women got hurt the worst. He had to back off this one, now. If not now, as soon as he cheered her up. Someone had already been here and done that as far as causing pain went.
“Who says there’s anything wrong with you, sweetheart? Not me.” He pardoned himself for the lie. Kind of like he did on a regular basis with Will. He might have broken a few hearts in his time, but Stefan didn’t go around hurting people if he could help it. That’s why it had always bugged him that his Mom could think him capable of it.
“You don’t have to say that.”
Shit, he wished he might have been wrong but that rang of low self-esteem.
Stefan rubbed at the whiskers covering his jaw allowing him anonymity. She trusted him, or was jacked up enough to be letting him close for now. If Stefan Calderon of Sin Pointe had shown up, he could guarantee this would have played out much differently. It always did. For some reason, he didn’t want to be that guy with this girl. His attraction to her lingered thickly between their bodies.
“Look, I don’t know what assholes you’ve been listening to, but they’re not worth your time if that’s why you’re in here crying. You’re a beautiful young woman.” He didn’t have to tilt her chin with his fingers to make her see him.
On her own, she looked at him, rather fiercely, and her dark brown eyes held him. She wore desperation like night old makeup. Maybe that’s all this was. Stefan understood intense, depraved need better than most.
“Now you sound like my ex,” she said and continued to pin him with those eyes.
Bingo. The asshole who’d hurt her. “How ex are we talking about?” he asked.
Her mouth worked like it wasn’t something she wanted to share. She held up her hands and her shoulders hiked. “This morning,” she said, then let her shoulders fall limp.
Hell. What kind of…? “Dumb ass motherfucker,” he said, finishing his thought out loud.
She shrugged again, like it was just one of those things and he shouldn’t be surprised. Then her shoulders began to really shake. “I hate him most of all because he’s a good guy.”
In other words, she hadn’t seen it coming. Fuck, how many times had he pulled that shit?
And right now, her grace was right up there alongside Will’s. She should be cursing this so called good guy to go bald or for his dick to shrink. Most women he knew fresh off a breakup would have been doing at least that. Her hand went to her stomach and she rubbed it like she was trying to soothe hunger pains.
“Hey, if I run out real quick, do you promise to be here when I get back?” he asked, an idea brewing in his head.
“Um, I don’t know,” she said with fresh wrinkles from where she frowned so cutely. He wished he hadn’t used the word promise and he couldn’t get over how hot it was that she continuously blew him off. “How long?” she asked. He caught a trace of fear slide from the corner of her eye when she looked sideways. “How long?” she said again.
“I’ll be right back. Just wait.”
Stefan left—something told him she’d stay—and made his way to a secondary, smaller snack area near their end of the truck stop. Thankfully he found what he was looking for quickly and there was a cashier manning the register. He paid for her treat, something she’d had in her hands when he’d seen her in line, and made his way back to her stall, grateful no one seemed to have found out about their secret hideaway. He took a look at his phone. No text from Will yet.
“You still in there?” he asked as he tapped his knuckles gently against the metal door. But he knew she was because the kaleidoscope of colors on her snakeskin clogs stood out. “It’s me.” He nearly spit out his name but held back. When a woman didn’t ask for it, they almost always had their reasons. He didn’t blame the ones not caring who he was, only wanting sex, because sometimes that’s all he wanted too.
The door made a metallic sounding groan as she opened it and let him back in.
“Here,” he said. “For you.”
Stefan started to hand her the package of grape licorice but when her face lit up, he pulled it back. Curious that such a simple thing pleased her so much, he didn’t mean to tease her, but couldn’t help it. Until she frowned.
He wouldn’t be mean for long but he craved her strange reactions to him. Stefan bit a corner of the plastic wrapping off and pulled out one piece. Would she tell him to grow up or insist she didn’t like being teased? The sweet, distinct smell overpowered their small space. He held the purple candy stick out to her and rather than furthering the play by taking his offering into her mouth, she tugged it from him with her fingers and then fed it to herself. Which, fuck, was even hotter. He just smiled, hiding the heat exploding under his skin.
“Listen, you’re not just beautiful,” he told her as she chewed and then took another piece when he held out the package. “And this ex of yours might be good, but…” She wouldn’t be pleased if Stefan insulted this guy, no matter that her heart was broken. He could sense that much. “He’s obviously not too bright. You’re fucking sexy as hell, and yeah it’s an old cliché, but any guy would be lucky to have you.” He pinned her with a stare and waited to see how she’d take that last bit. Damn, he must really want in her pants because even Stefan knew he was laying it on thick. She took out another piece of licorice but to his surprise, she offered it to him instead of eating it herself. The smell was way too sweet—not his particular liking—so he smiled, showed her the gum he was chewing between his teeth and offered the licorice back to her. Now if she’d have offered to let him eat it from her mouth, he’d have downed the whole package, no matter how nasty the sweet grape would have made his cinnamon gum.
She shook her head and wiped her nose. The cute but reddened tip of it rose and she said, “Prove it.”
Come again?
Had he heard her right?
Hi
s cock had, crystal clear. Stefan shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot for his junk. Damn, it wasn’t happening and her eyeing him only taunted and grew him more.
“Prove it?” he asked, his voice rumbled in his throat, not quite the growl he could have let out but close.
A sniffle sounded when she breathed in. She dared him with her eyes.
Fuck, Will probably had his pizza by now and who knew what other gift shop oddities. But no way could he leave her after what she’d just said. Old him, new him. In the middle him. This was about her.
Self-esteem wasn’t her problem.
She had a wild streak, and she’d just dared the wrong man. He stared, hard and direct, committing to take her on with each second that ticked by between them. The package of licorice fell to the floor. Heat made everything smell sweeter in their four by four metal box.
“You don’t mean that,” he said into her face, allowing her the time to back off and recant if she’d just been fooling with him. If all she’d wanted were the words of praise he’d already given her and nothing else. More often than not, the good ones did that, no matter how curious they were about him. He knew he gave off a strong sexual aura. Intimidating to some, he hadn’t always been like this.
He waited, ready to play but expecting her to call game over any second now.
Chapter Three
Prove it.
In her head, Dani had thought those two words would have been the things to send Sinister Superman running. But here he was, inching closer. The four metal stall walls absorbed nothing. Not his smell that splashed itself on her skin like expensive cologne and none of his sensual intensity that scorched her throat. What had she gotten herself into with this one? She licked her teeth, hoping they weren’t purple with licorice bits stuck in the cracks.
“I meant it,” she said, not letting herself chicken out now that he’d pulled her in with those sexy but tender eyes and the candy gesture. Thom might not want what she had to offer, but something told Dani this guy did. That he’d take it greedily and not apologize afterward. But then his eyes narrowed like he didn’t believe her. If he was rich like she suspected, that unrepentant air shouldn’t come as a surprise.
“You want proof?” he asked. He took his aviator sunglasses from that crown of dark waves on top of his head and coolly set them down on top of the toilet paper dispenser. Dani followed his hands as he did so, admiring his movements and the crisp precision of his tattoos. “You sure about that?” The way he looked down at her caused Dani’s skin to shiver.
He was giving her an out, wasn’t he? He went so far as to back away from where he’d been standing over her and leaned against the furthest stall wall, still only a foot away. This close up, she could see the stitched detail of his white shirt, the tiny little squares making a mesh-like pattern over a thicker under layer. There wasn’t a smudge on it anywhere but it clearly showed the muscles of his chest where he was broad, and then it was loose near his waist where he was undoubtedly narrower. He held up his colorful hands as if saying she could pass by him freely and she noticed a small black cross on his palm at the base of his thumb. She hoped it was a sign that he feared God or at least had faith in something. At this point, she didn’t think he would hurt her although to be honest, what did she know about men? But something told her his gesture of letting her pass was genuine and maybe his biggest flaw was that he was simply horny. If she was having a change of heart, she’d better do it now because each slow blink of his eyes with those long dark lashes reminded her of the time ticking by. Something about him and this crazy situation fired her already heightened hormones to life.
I can’t lie to you … I understand if you’re pissed.
Thom had no idea.
Neither did this guy … she almost asked him his name but realized quickly she didn’t want it. Not knowing was better. He would simply be known to her as Superman.
And, if the dark intense man locked in this stall, breathing the same air lied to her, it wouldn’t matter. There would be nothing for her to understand and no reason for her to be pissed. No email to cry over. Just the feeling any woman wanted, once in a while at least, to be cherished.
Should she touch him? His tanned neck and dark gaze called her to do it. She felt her fingers curl but forced them to stay relaxed and instead squeezed her toes. He couldn’t see those. They were hidden and he wouldn’t know her reaction to him was so strong. Not yet.
No, he had to make the first move. What would be the point then? Otherwise, he wasn’t proving anything. If she was sexy, desirable as he’d said, let him show her.
“Whatever happens right now, don’t make me any promises,” she said, her eyes falling victim to the shiny silver metal of the toilet to their side. But just as quickly she brought her eyes back up and locked them on him. “And be convincing.” Yes, it was bold. But they had to get this right, no screw ups, so she could at least have this one moment. And when she saw Thom around town with his love, she’d have this one memory to fall back on. From here on out, it would be all about her baby. Dani blew out.
His black eyebrows hiked up at that and in the center of his chin she could see the cleft area where his whiskers pooled in the small circular dent and became even darker. She had the urge to set her fingertip over the dimple where it looked like it would fit perfectly but she didn’t, still needing him to make contact first.
He reached out one long arm and tilted her chin up with no more than the crook of his tattooed finger.
She wanted to let her head loll back. To sink to the floor before him. She stood tall and focused on anything she could not to get lost so easily, so fast.
The inked patterns so precise, this man hadn’t gotten them just anywhere. He had to have paid good money for the intricacy. No doubts about it. He wasn’t from here. He was just passing through and would be long gone once he pulled out, in his expensive, white European luxury car on his way to some place like New York City. Those things made him perfect for right now. The one clear thing … his gaze was burning a hole through her chest each time he failed to keep his eyes raised. Those dark eyes drifted again.
“I promise,” he said, chasing the words she’d asked him not to use with a definite grin. His cockiness sealed her decision to do this and promised, like he’d just said, to follow through and to do it well enough to leave her with no doubts.
At least you know up front what this is. You can move on with no strings.
All she needed was a passionate kiss and some rough hands. Both of which dark-eyed, tatted Superman, seemed perfectly capable of providing.
“Fine,” she said and straightened her spine when she realized she’d let herself slip a few notches with his gaze and the erotic things it promised.
The air became wicked and hot as she took her next breath and he eyed her ominously.
Carnally.
He wrapped his arm around her back and then pressed her against the wall with his manly chest. His body heat was as intense as his stare. Her head clunked at the metal but her masses of thick hair shielded her from the pain.
“Sorry,” he said.
She didn’t care. Hadn’t really felt it. The pain that was. Wouldn’t have stopped him if she had.
He hooked a finger into her mouth, enough to wet it, and then pressed and swiped it over her bottom lip. In response, he licked his own. The rawness he just shared unlocked something inside her, the pain she needed to dull with whatever passion she had left. Continuing, she bit down on his finger until he gasped.
“Ouch,” he said, his naughty intentions clear in those gorgeous brown eyes and throaty voice. “Kiss that,” he told her. His kissable lips barely moved with the sexy, bossy demand.
She did. Her heart pounded at this recklessness and at something else. Something hid in his eyes, darkening them. Like he needed this too? She was delirious and didn’t care.
As soon as Dani followed that one command, he let loose on her. Like he’d been a coil of repentance just waiting to be gi
ven the okay to spring forth and indulge again.
His hands moved to her shoulders and pressed them back and held her there then it was his lips. Like time was precious to him, he didn’t waste a single second of it debating. He was all forward motion and deliberate action. Whether she was prepared or not, Dani had his kiss, his taste, his hot breath with no breaks for breathing or thinking. His mouth adored her face and neck, leaving them wet.
“Why do you taste so good to me, sweetheart?” he whispered, so deep it felt like his words reached all the way into her lungs. It was understood he didn’t want an answer. He ran his tongue along the ridge of her upper teeth like they’d been doing this for months. She had the sudden and fierce urge to bite down again. For all the women—surely there had been a few who had come before her—trapped in his cinnamon tasting mouth, and the ones who would undoubtedly come after this little tryst was over. But no, this wasn’t for those other women. He was Dani’s right now. God, she prayed he didn’t have someone currently.
She nearly lost her nerve at the thought.
She would ask but he was no one to her. No names, not his, not hers, not anyone who might be his.
This was for her.
And it would never happen again.
She would be a mom soon and not just a woman licking her wounds.
“It’s not me, it’s the licorice,” she let out and found the courage to offer him the tip of her tongue. He took it hungrily, nibbling it and then sucking her into his mouth. Every angle he took this kiss to let his dark whiskers scrape against her cheeks. Then he ran a thumb over the angried skin as if he was trying to soothe it. The callous of his fingers was just as tough. She didn’t care. At least he tried.
No, no forgiveness allowed.
“It is you, if I say so.” He had no idea the thrill his territorial words gave to her fractured ego.
“Cinnamon.” Her voice was all hot breath under the onslaught of his tongue.
“That’s me. You like how I taste too, sweetheart.” He showed her his gum then swallowed it and gave her more just then, letting his tongue slide next to hers with a long slow lick. He planted a soft kiss that got lost inside her mouth. He pushed his hands without any calculation against the sides of her face, capturing hair in uneven handfuls she could feel between the pressure of his fingers and her skin. It pulled a little. She didn’t care because somehow she knew he hadn’t meant it. He was simply into what he was doing to her. That’s what she was after.
Wicked Flower Page 3