Stroke of Midnight

by ANDIE J. CHRISTOPHER

  The waiter came with the check, and Alana looked up at him and said, “You want to go dancing?” She phrased it like a challenge. He didn’t back down from challenges. Ever.

  Maybe that’s how he’d ended up in bed with her in the first place.

  “I’m not much of a dancer.”

  She just threw a few bills on the table before he got a chance to protest any more, got up, and grabbed his hand. As she tugged him out of the tiny restaurant, he balked at not paying his own way. But, considering the way she felt about her family meddling in her affairs, it was probably best to leave it be for now. He’d buy her dinner another time. Oddly enough, the idea that there would be another time didn’t cause panic’s usual squeeze.

  They didn’t go far. She pulled him into a dark doorway. Live salsa music shook the walls of the tiny club. It wasn’t late, but there were already bodies on the dance floor, most of them moving more gracefully than him.

  In one of his mother’s more loving gestures, she’d enrolled him in a social dance class. But he definitely couldn’t do what he was witnessing. The dancers’ hips writhed in an upbeat mimicry of sex. Thinking about doing that with Alana made sweat break out on the back of his neck.

  She looked at him just as he rubbed over his head in an anxious gesture. “Nervous?”

  He didn’t know if it was the stuff he’d told her over dinner or the playful grin on her face, but he felt himself blush. “Kind of.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m great at this, so you’ll be doing the toe stepping.”

  “So this will be worse for you than it is for me?”

  The music changed and he clasped her in a hold that approximated what the other men in the room did.

  Alana wasn’t lying about being good at dancing. It took him a few songs to pick up the steps and be able to lead, but, after that, all he had to do was try not to fuck up and let her make him look good.

  Any activity where he could palm that dip just above her ass and watch the sway of her curves was fine with him. None of that intimate contact made it any easier on his cock.

  He’d danced with women in clubs as a prelude to fucking them before, but this was different. They weren’t two sweaty bodies grinding up against each other; this was almost more intimate than the other night. The space between them made his body react more strongly than if she was plastered up against him. This playground of sensual pleasure and companionship that she’d unknowingly lured him into was messing with his equilibrium. Only one thing would get this rig back on the road.

  He didn’t know what they were doing here. This was new territory. He had to get back to a place where he could feel the ground under his feet. A place where he wasn’t close to blowing his friendship with Javier, where he wouldn’t get caught up with something that could blow up like last time he was involved with a woman.

  During a break between songs, he leaned close to her ear. “It’s time to get out of here. I need to get you back home.”

  Chapter 7

  He waited until they got to her front porch before he said, “We can’t do this. We can’t have sex again. It’s not right.”

  “Did I ask you to have sex again?” Alana had been asking if they could have sex again—nonverbally—by taking him salsa dancing, but he didn’t need to know that. “What’s ‘not right’ about it? We’re both adults, and we had fun. You’re leaving town at the end of the week, and we’ll never have to see each other again. Wouldn’t sex make for a better vacation?”

  She hoped that sounded seductive.

  “I don’t think that’s going to work.” Apparently, he wasn’t swayed by her offer. They were standing about three feet apart, but the space between them was full of energy.

  “Why not?”

  “Because this chemistry isn’t going away once you open your mouth.” Cole moved closer, and Alana stepped back.

  “Is that usually what happens? A girl opens her mouth and you lose your erection?”

  “They’re usually not around long enough to get a word in.” Cole smirked and shook his head. “Not touching you is taking up energy right now. And we’ve just spent a few hours together.”

  “And this means we can’t have sex again?” She failed to understand why his being attracted to her was a problem.

  “It does.”

  “That’s stupid.” He grinned at her and his gaze flicked over her body.

  “Leaving you alone would be the only right thing I’ve done in a long time. And you’re making it really difficult.”

  “I’m not doing anything. I’m not dressing provocatively. I’m just…here.”

  “You don’t think that just being here is distracting? And, darlin’, you’re not wearing a bra.” She flushed and she could feel sweat drip between her unfettered breasts.

  “No—”

  “You really don’t get it, do you?”

  Alana shot him an incredulous look. “Get what?”

  “You’re fucking perfect, and I should say no to you.”

  Her face heated. “I want you. You make me feel good. How’s that wrong?” He was toying with her hair, tangling his hands through it and combing his fingers through it.

  She’d told him what she wanted; he had to make the next move. But he just kept on playing with her hair, hesitating. He looked hungry. For her.

  “You don’t know that. You don’t know me at all.” He dropped the strand of hair he was touching and began tracing the freckles right above her tank top with the tips of his fingers. She felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. Her chest was tight and her pulse was fast. Her nipples hardened, and she knew he would see that. He heated her to the core. She was so close to the point where she would lose control and jump all over him again.

  But she stood there as he touched her, letting him come to her. Something told her that he liked the way she let him touch her more than he’d like it if she flicked open the button on his jeans and sank her hand inside. She stared at his face while his eyes were lowered to the top of her blouse.

  “If I’m so perfect, why would you say no?”

  “Because I’m a good friend. And you deserve more than a quick fuck.”

  She smiled and looked at him from underneath her lashes. “I don’t want a quick fuck. I want several quick fucks interspersed between slow ones.”

  “I’m tempted. I wouldn’t be standing here if I wasn’t tempted.”

  “Then walk out so I can find a guy who isn’t too afraid of my brother to give me what I want.”

  Before she’d finished her sentence, he grabbed the back of her head and angled her face to kiss her. Her attraction to Cole weakened her, but she felt her entire body fill with electric power when his lips touched hers.

  Unlike in the library, his lips were tentative, seeking. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world. He must have sensed that she was unsure about agreeing to a fling with him, despite her words. His kiss was enticing, coaxing. His hand brushed her side, soothing her like she was a scared animal. Afraid she might jump and run scared at any time.

  He kissed down her neck and slipped his hands underneath her top, brushing the skin on her ribs. She heard a whimper and realized it came from her. He groaned against her skin when she gripped his short, dark hair with her fingers, holding him to her body.

  Before she knew it, her top was off, and she was bare above the waist. The way he looked at her filled her to the brim with lust. Need.

  He kissed her again, and this time he crushed her lips to his. Her nipples hardened further as they brushed the soft cotton that covered his chest. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. So she pulled at the bottom of his shirt. He paused and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion. How did hot guys always know how to do that? She supposed he had a lot of practice ripping off his shirt in a hurry.

  Alana’s fingers moved over Cole’s entire torso. She couldn’t decide where she wanted to touch him the most. Every inch of him
was yummy, so she couldn’t make a bad choice. She’d wanted to explore him again since she saw him a few days ago.

  Even though they exhausted a lot of sexual possibilities the other night, she hadn’t felt like she’d touched him enough. It was that wanting—even after the sex—that had made her flee as soon as he’d drifted off. She’d known that she shouldn’t long for anything that explosive. But Cole had been almost feral in his desire for her. They hadn’t even had a real conversation before she had her legs around him in a bar.

  She realized that they didn’t really need to have a conversation. Cole was exactly himself all of the time. Alana craved nothing more than the skin-on-skin contact that Cole was giving her. She was starving for his mouth against her nipples as he licked and sucked and then nibbled. She moaned.

  “You like a little bit of pain, darlin’. It’s going to be so sweet when I take you over my knee.” When she made another strangled sound, he continued, “Not tonight. I’m about to stretch this out. I need more than one night to figure out the ways I can make you scream.”

  He’d changed his tune pretty fast.

  Gooseflesh rose on her arms and she shivered. Cole raised his head, and his hands smoothed against her skin, warming her back.

  He walked her backwards until they’d edged over to the dining room table. He gripped her shoulders, picked her up, and sat her down on the table in one motion. His hand touched her shoulder and she lay back. He smoothed his hand over her belly, and she shuddered. When he’d broken his promise not to touch her, the energy shifted. She broke him, but it gave him all the power. She went boneless when he touched her, now even more than the other night. Because she knew how good it was with him.

  Light from a street lamp filtered through the blinds as she lay pinned by his desire-darkened gaze. And when he smiled at her, she knew that even though wanting for him felt dangerous, he would never hurt her.

  “So beautiful,” he said as he turned his hand over and rubbed her ribs with his knuckles. “I’m gonna eat you all up.” Her breath turned shallow when he pulled the button on her jeans loose with one hand and unzipped them with a practiced hand. He tapped her side and she lifted her hips. He pulled her pants and underwear down all at once. She’d never felt this exposed before.

  He grabbed her feet and placed them on the table. His hands remained firm and reassuring, and his thumbs brushed the arches of her feet. She shivered at that small touch and the stress that eating, drinking, and dancing with Cole hadn’t erased drained from her system in a rush.

  Alana couldn’t breathe at all when he looked up at her face with a small smile on his lips and a spark in his eyes. “Wax?”

  She shook her head. Glad Carla and her mom had talked her into certain South Florida grooming practices. “Laser.”

  Cole groaned and pulled up a chair. “You taste so good, Alana.” He took two fingers and opened her up. “Since the other night, I haven’t been able to think about anything else but tasting you, and then sinking deep inside.” He kissed her inner thigh, the top of her mound, and the fingertips she’d rested on her other thigh. “I want to give you what you need. You need to be stuffed full of me, don’t you, darlin’?”

  He pressed his lips against her clit and she could feel the gravel in his throat through her center. There was fire inside of her skin, and nothing came out when she tried to answer his question. His mouth was magic that made her forget all of her responsibilities.

  She arched her spine and pushed herself into his face. Cole responded by placing a hand on her lower belly, pinning her to the table. Her mind went blank, and all she could think about was more of his mouth and his hands on her.

  He seemed content to take his time, but she grew more frantic with every swipe of his tongue, every kiss and nibble. She rolled her head against the hard wood of the table, the bit of pain keeping her grounded.

  Then one of his fingers plunged inside of her. Her inner muscles grasped him and she rested her thighs against his shoulders. Every cell in her body drew him closer.

  He found a spot inside her that made her see stars and sucked on her clit. The top of her head blew off, like the cork off a shaken bottle of pink champagne. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a light show started behind her eyelids. Her ears rang; she swore that she could hear church bells. She had never come that hard, not even the first night that she and Cole were together. She never wanted it to end. She wished she could feel that weightless forever.

  Just as she started to come back down, Cole rose over her with a smug grin on his face. God—there were still bells ringing. She stared into his eyes, made mute by orgasm.

  “You need to get that?”

  Alana realized that the ringing came from her phone—Carla’s ring specifically. She scrambled to get off the table, and Cole let her. She grabbed his T-shirt and reached for her phone on the coffee table. For once, she was grateful for her sister’s gift of gab. A little more time on that table and she would have been begging Cole to never leave Miami.

  Chapter 8

  Cole scanned the floor for his T-shirt. Before he found it, she snagged it and pulled it over her luscious body. She looked better in it.

  Damn, he’d fucked up. Javier might have forgiven him for New Year’s Eve, but not tonight. In Cole’s defense, he hadn’t known that he was violating his sister at the time, but tonight...oh yeah, he knew. Javier would rip him apart.

  And Cole hated himself for wanting more. Especially now he knew how sweet Alana was. After she’d laughed at his jokes and he’d almost broken several of her toes on the dance floor. Now that he’d seen pictures of her as a baby in her parents’ house, and he still wanted to consume her... Shit. This spelled trouble.

  And it felt wrong to keep her a secret. He’d give his left nut to spend more time with her. Take her out for a meal. Take away some of the stress she wore on her face. He just wanted to be around her more.

  He looked over at her, and his chest puffed when he saw that Alana’s eyes were still glazed over. He hated the caller who interrupted them. By now, he might’ve had Alana bent over the table and begging for his aching cock.

  After a minute, Alana asked, “Baseball? Sure. Do we have all of the tickets?” Alana paused, and then something made her blush. She glanced over at him.

  “Um no . . . uh . . . Cole’s here.” Alana moved to go into the bedroom, but Cole halted her with his hand on her arm. She looked shocked but let him rub her shoulders. “Javi sent him over to check out my car.” She paused and chewed her lower lip. “I don’t know why. It didn’t take this long, but we got some dinner at El Pub.”

  He hoped to hell the fact they’d had dinner wouldn’t get back to Javier. His friend would think he was working an angle.

  “Stop it, Carla. Yes, we’ll come.” Alana jumped when he dug his thumb into a knot along her shoulder blade, but then leaned back. “And yes, I’ll see you in a few.”

  Alana hung up the phone and scrambled off his lap. She pointed to his crotch and said, “We don’t have time for that. My sister’s coming over.”

  Cole groaned. “You think I can’t be fast?”

  Alana giggled. “Sure you can, but who said that I want fast?”

  “Darlin’, I can make fast good.”

  “Go. Be back here at noon.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You’re coming to the Mariners game with Carla, Geoff, and me.”

  “Why would I do that? I don’t even like baseball.”

  She put her hand against her chest. “You don’t like America’s pastime?”

  He grabbed her hand and ran his fingertip over her palm. “I can think of much better ways to pass the time than baking in the sun watching grown men throw around a ball.”

  He heard the hitch in her breath “What else would you be doing? I have to go to the game with my family. You’re here to visit with Javi, anyway.”

  Shocked the shit out of him that he’d rather watch baseball with
her than go to the beach or something. He wanted to spend the day with her even without the possibility of getting his dick wet. “I bet you’re going to wear something real short and tease me with flashes of your legs all damned afternoon, aren’t you?”

  She gave him a lopsided smile. “Of course.”

  “You’re cruel, you know that?”

  Alana winked at him before she whipped his T-shirt off and threw it at his face. “Get out of here if you don’t want to deal with Carla when she doesn’t have Geoff acting as a buffer.”

  He walked to the door and tapped on the alarm box. “Don’t forget to arm this when your sister leaves.”

  She rolled her eyes. “If you promise to stop sounding like my dad, I’ll make sure you get yours after the game.”

  * * * *

  Less than an inning into the game, Cole realized that Alana had the patience of a saint. As the quiet one in her family, they seemed to think that meant she didn’t have an opinion. Carla was the opposite of her older sister, small, spritely, and redheaded like their mother. She was also apparently allergic to silence because she filled every lull in every conversation.

  The Hernandez family had season tickets, and the team was so bad that they were virtually alone in the section, so Carla’s constant chatter couldn’t bother anyone. Alana nodded and smiled while her sister talked about wedding venues and flowers. In the last thirty minutes, he’d learned more about wedding dress silhouettes than he ever cared to know.

  It was a wonder that she and Alana, who seemed totally comfortable with silence, were even in the same family. But Alana seemed to follow her sister’s tangents with ease. If he thought Geoff was a good guy, he would almost feel sorry for him. He was non-descript, the stereotypical boring accountant. He was about half a head shorter than Cole and clearly spent more time at a desk than was healthy.

  When Cole tried to engage the guy in conversation, he found himself embroiled in a lecture about Marlins stats pre- and post-new stadium. Geoff’s droning gave Cole the chance to ogle Alana’s legs in white jean shorts. She warned him that he couldn’t get touchy-feely with her in public. Apparently, Carla was almost as bad as their mom and wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut if she thought Cole had boyfriend potential.