Wicked Wild Fantasies

by Shiloh Walker

  That smile came back—that little feline, totally female smile a woman gets that will drive a man out of his mind—and she said, “Yes. A friend.” Reaching up, she patted his cheek and turned away. “Come on. Let’s find your truck. You look exhausted and I’m pretty tired myself.”

  Irritation flooded him at the gesture, the kind a schoolteacher gives a small boy. Or that of a woman petting her dog. He clamped down the urge to seize her hand back and jerk her up against him, and he wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

  Chapter Seven

  The little old restaurant had been in Jeffersonville for as long as people could remember. If the inside looked as disreputable as the outside, then there was no way she was venturing in.

  Enough people ate there to keep the place going so maybe some people didn’t worry about things like food poisoning or health hazards.

  Apparently Alex didn’t. Alison sat in the scarred booth, absently rubbing a finger over an ancient scratch on the cheap vinyl table top while she studied the menu.

  Quirking an eyebrow, she glanced up at Alex and whispered, “You’re sure it’s safe to eat here?”

  Alex looked at her with a grin. “You once told me that the human stomach had acids capable of killing any number of viruses. What are you worried about?”

  Glancing around the dim interior that smelled of smoke and liquor, Alison grimaced. Then she offered, “Food poisoning?”

  Some misguided soul had attempted to brighten the atmosphere by stringing white lights from the ceiling. The man who stood behind the bar polishing glasses scowled their way. “Annie, you got customers.”

  Somebody, Annie, Alison presumed, shouted out an irritable, “Wait one damned minute.”

  Alex reached over, plucked the menu from Alison’s fingers. “Do you trust me?”

  “With my life, absolutely. With my stomach lining? I’ll have to think about that.”

  As Annie stalked out of the kitchen, she shot the bartender a sour look before turning toward Alex and Alison. She brightened and called out, “Well, hey, handsome. Why didn’t you tell me it was you?” Eyeing Alison, she studied her, and then winked at Alex. “Your taste is improving.”

  Alison blushed and studied the table as the brassy blonde flirted with Alex. And Alex, of course, flirted shamelessly back before ordering burgers for both of them. After the waitress had sauntered off, Alison looked up. “I take it you come here often.”

  With a shrug, he leaned back in the torn vinyl booth. “I was in and out of here for a while, trying to get a lead on a case last summer. Never panned out. But I found the best burgers in all of Kentucky and Indiana.”

  “I guess I could always order a drink and hope the alcohol kills any of the bacteria lurking in here,” she said, reaching up to toy with her necklace. Her fingers stilled as Alex’s eyes drifted down and locked on the movement of her hand.

  Alex’s mouth curved up in a smile. “Don’t worry, Ali-cat,” he said. “Nobody has died here yet.”

  Her eyes widened, then rolled and she dryly said, “How very reassuring.”

  “What did you do to your hair?” he asked, reaching out and catching a sun-streaked lock. The booth was too tiny for her to be able to draw back, which she wanted to do—Alex could tell by the look in her eyes.

  Her lashes drooped and when she looked back at him, the nervous look in her eyes was gone, replaced by an easy laughing one. “Cut it off,” she replied succinctly. “It was so damn long I could sit on it. You have no idea how heavy long hair is until it’s all gone.”

  With a playful tug, he let it go. “I like it. Contacts?”

  “For now. I’m having the Lasik procedure done in a few months.”

  Automatically, he flinched, thinking of those pretty green eyes being operated on. “You sure you wanna do that?” he asked. “Is it safe?”

  “Oh, the doctor says it’s at least fifty percent effective. He’s only had three or four people go blind,” she replied, accepting her soft drink from the waitress and taking a sip.

  The bland look on her face cracked as Alex went pale and repeated, “Buh-blind?”

  She stopped biting her lip to keep it from trembling and just started laughing. “Geez, Alex. I didn’t think cops were that gullible.” As his deep brown eyes narrowed on hers, she giggled again, wiping a tear from her face. “Quit glaring at me. I can’t stop laughing while you’re looking at me like that.”

  His scowl faded and only by sheer strength of will did he avoid looking the way he felt. He’d known her for more than twenty years and seriously doubted he had ever heard her laugh like that. And he knew she had never looked as laidback, as happy, as she looked right now. He’d always thought of her as a friend.

  Some friend he was, he thought, twirling his straw in his glass. He had never even begun to guess how unhappy she was.

  He doubted anybody had—not even her brother.

  “So when did you quit your job at the nursing home?” he asked, resolving to worry about the rest later.

  One of the few customers at the bar ambled over to the old jukebox and moments later, Hank Williams came pouring out. Alison’s eyes drifted that way, a smile lurking in her eyes before she turned back to Alex. “Same time everything else happened. February. Two weeks after, to be exact.”

  He was starting to understand. “He really scared you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” she said baldly. “And this is really going to sound weird, but I think it was the best thing that ever happened to me. If that hadn’t happened…well, I may never have realized just how much I was missing.” She frowned, twisting the thin paper napkin between her fingers. “I worked at the home another two weeks. It wasn’t that I was unhappy with the job. I loved those little old people, and I still go see them on my weekends off.

  “But I get too close to people. And the people I took care of were old and sick, anyway. I couldn’t keep saying good-bye. It was tearing me apart inside.”

  “Is that why you quit?”

  A quick laugh escaped and she shook her head. Taking a sip of her coke, she said, “No. I quit because somebody asked me to work another nurse’s shift. Well, he didn’t ask. He told me, and I was getting tired of being told what to do.”

  At his confused look, she gave a brief explanation. “That was it. I was tired of being taken advantage of—tired of people walking all over me—tired of people lying to me and thinking I was too dumb or too scared to do anything.”

  “Here we go, two burgers and fries,” the waitress called out, coming through the door.

  “Thanks, Annie,” Alex said. He nipped a French fry before she had even set the platters down and seized Annie’s hand once it was free. “My undying gratitude if you get me some—”

  “Ketchup,” Annie finished up for him, pulling a bottle from one of the pockets on her apron. “Here you go. Dig in, enjoy.”

  She nodded at Alison before walking away, the tray tucked under her skinny arm. Moments later, she and the bartender were embroiled in an argument.

  “Sounds like they enjoy arguing,” Alison commented as she eyed the messy burger in front of her. French fries were always safe, she figured, snagging one and popping it into her mouth.

  Spreading a napkin on her lap, she picked up the burger, and took a hesitant bite. The flavor of it exploded on her tongue, and she closed her eyes. “Oh, man. That’s good,” she mumbled around a mouthful.

  Alex had already finished off a third of his. “Told you,” was all he said as he took a drink. “Are you happier where you are now?”

  Swallowing another bite of burger, she nodded. “Yes. I am. I had to force myself to start actually talking to people. And I told myself to stop thinking I was a pushover. But nobody there has tried to take advantage of me.”

  “That’s because you made up your mind it wouldn’t happen,” Alex said with a shrug. “It’s a case of mind over matter. It’s the people without any self-confidence that get walked on.” Alex lowered his eyes back to his food, sco
wling as he realized how often he had walked on others, taken advantage of others when it made his way a little easier. Had he done that with Alison?

  Yes. He had. Probably a dozen times, easy, in any given year.

  Looking up, he saw her watching him with calm eyes.

  Even as he opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what he would say, Alison’s mouth curved up. “Don’t worry about it, Alex.”

  “Alison—”

  “Don’t. Just let it go, okay?” she asked softly.

  Silence fell between them, broken by the occasional shout from the bartender. Alison finished off about half of the burger before giving up and sitting back. “I think that’s more than I usually eat in a day,” she said, one hand resting on the flat of her belly. “Good thing I decided to pass on the airplane food.”

  Alex smiled, feeling unbelievably tired as he pushed his plate away. “They’ve got great mushrooms here, too. We can come back sometime.”

  Alison murmured a noncommittal sound as she arched her back, stretching her hands high overhead. “Man, I need a nap,” she muttered, yawning. “Jet lag.”

  The long line of her arched back drew his eyes and he stared at her up-thrust breasts, his eyes locked on the points of her nipples, lids drooping as he remembered. His mouth started to water and he wanted to reach across the table, pull her up and spread her out before him and feast…

  Damnation, he thought, as his cock hardened. Not again. It had taken weeks for him to sleep without dreaming of her, and he still couldn’t go more than a week without it happening.

  Casually, he slid from the booth, tossing some cash on the table as he waited for Alison to stand up. Curving his hand around her elbow, he said, “Come on. Let’s get you home. Are you going to go see Lori and Mike?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll give them a call. If Lori’s not feeling well, I doubt she’s going to want company,” she said, blinking and squinting as they left the dim cafe, stepping out into the bright, late summer afternoon. “Besides, they are heading out of town themselves in a few days. She probably needs her rest.”

  “I’ll take you on home then.” Before he just decided to go ahead and take.

  ∞

  Later that night, Alison’s eyes opened and she looked around groggily. She was lying flat on her back on the couch. “Oh, man,” she muttered, slowly sitting up, her stiff body aching with every move. “That was not smart.”

  Stumbling into the shower—shedding her clothes as she went—she turned on the hot water full blast and stepped under the dual shower heads. A blissful sigh of relief escaped her as the hot water started to pummel her tired muscles.

  She showered and washed her hair and then just stood under the powerful jet, letting it pound her muscles until they relaxed. Climbing out and dragging a towel over her hair, she reached for her body oil.

  A few minutes later, her oil slicked hands slid over her body, her damp hair hanging in a tangle past her shoulders. A ghost of a grin curved her mouth upward as her mind started drifting, reliving the dream she had been having before waking up on the couch. She had been lying in a meadow in Ireland, her belly full of a picnic dinner, her body warm from the sun. Strong hands had glided over her body, fisted in her hair. And his mouth…

  Her eyes opened and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It had been Alex. Every dream she had ever had had been centered around Alex—from the time she was ten years old. Once upon a time, the dreams had been sweet and childish, the kind a girl would dream. But as she grew older, the dreams got hotter and earthier.

  They’d all been pretty tame until that night she’d unintentionally walked in on him having sex. “Whew…” she muttered under her breath. It was a good thing he didn’t know about that. He was still eaten up with guilt over that one night between them. He’d probably kick his own ass if he knew his accidental peep show had inspired a million dirty dreams and now, nothing remotely tame really worked for her.

  But those dreams and ten torrid minutes on the floor were all she’d ever have.

  Staring at her trim, narrow body, Alison relived the shock she had seen in his eyes when he had seen her, recognized her, at the airport. It might have been wishful thinking, but she thought she’d seen some serious appreciation in his eyes. Is this all it would have taken? For him to finally notice her?

  Idly, she spun a scenario around in her mind—of calling him, asking him if he wanted to get some dinner, catch a movie.

  And then she stopped herself.

  Pulling her robe on, she left the bathroom, combing her fingers through her hair as she headed for the den. Taking a fat picture album from the desk, she headed for the armchair, curled her body up, and opened it. Towards the back were pictures from the previous summer, at Mike and Lori’s barbecue.

  And there she was, clad in jeans and a baggy T-shirt, her mousy brown hair pulled back from her face with a headband. Although she might look different, although she took better care of her appearance and thought more of herself, inside, Alison knew she was still basically the same.

  She liked to read, liked to watch movies, liked to go fishing. She loved sleeping in on rainy days, loved to go camping, and she loved kids. She had dreams of sweaty sex with Alex—always had, always would and most of the dreams involved things where he would tie her up…or down. But in all of those dreams, one thing didn’t change.

  He loved her as much as she loved him.

  And that was just a fantasy.

  She hadn’t been enough to catch his attention then. Hadn’t been enough to make him linger and kiss and cuddle her that night on the floor.

  “You don’t want it now,” she told herself quietly. She had been in love with him for years, but she deserved somebody who could appreciate her—all of her—not just the surface changes.

  With a sigh, she closed the album.

  As she was putting it up, the doorbell rang.

  Chapter Eight

  “Don’t,” Alex told himself as he drove down the road to Alison’s cute little house on the river. But he kept seeing how she would toy with that necklace, that dreamy little smile, the hot, satisfied look that would drift over her face from time to time. “Fuck.”

  “She’s not your type,” he muttered as he parked and stared up at the silent house. He liked sex, liked lots of it—liked it rough. And Mike would gut him, understandably, if he knew what Alex wanted to do to his baby sister.

  Fuck. Mike knew just how Alex liked his sex—they had been sharing tales of their exploits for years. And double fuck—before Mike had fallen in love with Lori, the two of them had been known to share a woman.

  Mike knew in fine detail just how rough and hard Alex could get and that was all fine and dandy.

  But if it involved his one and only baby sister…? Yeah, if Mike had any inkling that Alex was eyeing Alison, it was all over.

  He had no business getting out of his car, striding up to her door and pounding on it until she let him in.

  But he was standing there, brooding. And waiting.

  When the door swung open, she stood there wearing a thin, short robe, her hair wet, her skin soft and gleaming under the bright porch light. He could smell the scent of her skin, fresh out of the bath—peaches, mingled with vanilla now—and he was ravenous.

  “Alex?”

  He moved past her without answering, his eyes dark, his heart pounding slow and heavy as he waited for her to close the door and turn.

  “Are you going to hate me forever for what happened that night?” he asked roughly, his hands curled into loose fists to keep from reaching for her.

  Alison blinked. Once, slowly, like a sleepy little cat, he thought. She reached up and ran a hand through her tangled wet hair, an action that lifted her short robe even higher. Her body was still damp and when the robe rode up, it clung and gaped, hinting at the naked body beneath it, revealing the slope of one breast, the edge of a soft, pink nipple. “I don’t hate you, Alex,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “I’m sorry if I’v
e given you that impression.”

  “I’ve been avoiding your brother for a while, because I didn’t want to risk running into you. I felt like an ass,” he said gruffly, wanting to close the distance between them and kiss her, to see if her mouth was still as soft and sweet as he remembered. “I hurt you, and I’m sorry for it. That was your first time, wasn’t it?”

  Her cheeks flushed and her lashes lowered, followed by a soft, quiet sigh. “Yes. Alex, look—”

  “Shh,” he murmured, moving a little closer, pressing one finger to her lips.

  He knew women well enough to understand what he was seeing in her eyes. Embarrassment. He thought he might have caught a flicker of something else, self-consciousness, but it was gone fast.

  He decided to risk closing that distance and he backed her up against the wall as he told her, “Do you know I dreamed of that night for weeks? Months?”

  He reached up, carefully, slowly—giving her every chance in the world to pull away—as he threaded one hand through her damp hair. “The best little fuck I’ve ever had…and it was Alison Ryan.” He slid the tip of his thumb between her parted lips, opening her mouth just before he covered it with his.

  And he still moved slowly.

  Alex was all too aware that he was taking a big fucking risk here. He knew she was attracted to him, had known that for a while—years—and it used to make him uncomfortable. Then it amused him. That night six months ago, it made him burn.

  But now, he was worried. After the way he had acted, no matter how attracted to him she might have been, he could have killed that. Sliding his tongue across her lower lip, he groaned in pleasure at her taste. She was so sweet, he thought as he parted her robe with his hand before cupping it around her slim hip and palming the smooth flesh.

  Alex stroked the taut muscles of her ass and held her steady as he rocked against her.

  She moaned and angled her head to the side, opening for him.