Desire

by Mia Madison

  I climb in next to her on the bench seat and we sprawl over each other to recover our wasted limbs. When we can breath easily again, I lie back across the length and Caila settles herself on top of me. She seems to like resting her cheek on the rise of my pec muscle, the curve of her hip between my thighs. Fuck knows that’s where I want her. Always.

  The realization that I have to take her back to her father’s house and go through the entire weekend without her burns me up. She picks up on my thought.

  “I don’t want to go home,” she mewls.

  I lift us both up and am immediately tempted to throw her back down again. Her bare tits bobbing perky look so inviting. Nope, no way she’s getting away again. She gives me a sexy little smile as she wiggles the cotton back over the mounds. Her nipples are still hard and poke through the fabric so nothing is covered much. She’ll have to stop going out in public like that. No one gets to look at her now but me.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I tell her.

  “Where?”

  “You’ll see. I’m keeping you for the weekend.”

  She laughs happily.

  “But I don’t have anything with me.”

  “You have me,” I grunt with a shrug.

  “You’ll do,” she laughs, then adds; “And you have me.”

  I stop only long enough to move Caila’s car inside the garage and lock it up.

  When I come back she’s sitting in the drivers seat.

  “Scoot over, baby,” I tell her.

  “It’s raining pretty hard,” She says softly. “I can drive.”

  “Sweet offer,” I tell her. “But I can drive my woman to the woods.”

  “I just thought -”

  “I know baby and I’m grateful.” I stroke her cheek, amazed by how satiny it is. “It’s not dark yet and it’s about time I got through this. Now seems like a time for a fresh start.”

  “How about we make some new rain memories starting right now?”

  “I think we just did,” I croak. The emotion coursing through my veins is a new one one me.

  “The forecast says it will rain this hard all weekend so I’m all for making more. Eradicating your past and making it the present.”

  She’s right, this is my new start. This is the day I’m being freed.

  We get onto the main blacktop heading out of town and my hands are gripping the wheel, all my focus on the road ahead. I know I can do this.

  “Were you drinking that night?” she asks softly.

  “What?” I pick up her hand and place it on my thigh. Her touch steadies me. “No baby, not one drop. I couldn’t stop fast enough and...”

  Caila seems to be thinking, figuring stuff out. It freaks me out slightly. Anything that might mean I lose her is worse than anything I’ve ever been through before now.

  “So it was the rain that frazzled you, when you were driving me home the other night and that animal ran out,” she murmurs, putting it together.

  “Yeah,” I rasp. “I was momentarily taken back there. Even when its raining like this, I try not to drive. I see it all over again.”

  “But if you weren’t drinking why do people say you went to jail for killing someone?”

  “I did do time,” I tell her flatly.

  Here it is.

  Make or break.

  My hands are white-knuckling the wheel.

  “But you weren’t at fault,” she says, frowning at the injustice.

  “The woman was running away. The two guys chasing her saw what happened and took off. I went after them down the alley and caught one.”

  “Did you…?” she whispers.

  “Kill him? No but I wish I had. His lawyer made it look bad on me at the trial. He made it seem to the jury like I knew him, had some vendetta. That if I hadn’t been so busy taking my revenge and had called emergency sooner, the woman would have survived.”

  “My god, how awful for you.”

  “It made me harder.”

  “I can’t imagine you ever being exactly soft,” she says with a grin that takes the pressure out of the cab.

  I shrug and toss one right back. Maybe not. I love how attuned Caila is to my feelings and how she can instantly soothe the tension.

  “I got through it. As you do.”

  Caila not freaking out, seeing the empathy she feels for my suffering, her hand not moving from my thigh in revulsion, makes it lessen. If I keep her around for good, as I plan to, she could probably help me heal completely just by being herself.

  We drive on and for the first time in a long time, since long before I went down, I’m looking forward to the weekend.

  I stop at a service station to fill up. Then I get coffee and donuts for us and some stuff for Caila to wear.

  She pounces on the bag and eats like she’s starving.

  “We should stop for dinner somewhere soon,” I laugh.

  “I need a sugar fix,” she says, feeding me a bite of the delicious dough. “Energy recovery.”

  “Good ‘cuz you're gonna need a whole lot of that.”

  “What’s this” she squeaks, digging into the other bag. “I’m going to live in tee shirts all weekend? There’s no clean underwear.”

  “You won’t be needing any underwear,” I inform her.

  “Not even when we go to dinner?” she squeaks.

  “Definitely not then.”

  “Oh my god,” she moans. “What have I gotten myself into?”

  “I guess you’re about to find out.”

  Epilogue

  Caila - A Month Later

  We both knew that weekend. I’d never believed in instalove up until then – thought it had to be lust and hormones, the heated passion of the moment.

  Sure, we had a ton of that. Rand couldn't keep his hands off me. He took me up to a lake he knew. He liked to fish there whenever things got to be too much for him.

  “Staring at the water calms me,” he said. “Let’s me know we’re all just part of the river of life.”

  I laughed at that.

  “Yeah I know, the poetic convict. Not much to do inside except get books out of the library.”

  “I like it. The hard working man that can get dirty or be lyrical. You’re the complete package.”

  “I saw these lakeside cabins up here, fancy folks leaping from the deck right into the water. Always wanted to be in one.”

  “I’ve got my visa card,” I said. All I wanted was to be alone with him. “Let’s do it.”

  Rand emitted a low growl.

  “I have a visa card that’ll take care of it. And then I’ll take care of you again.”

  Oh god, I know my ass cheeks are going to get another stinging for implying that Rand needs my assistance. I squeezed my thighs together and note I’m soaked again, anticipating how he’s going to use every part of me.

  And damn if he didn’t. He kept me naked all weekend. He wanted me bare for him so he could watch my body all the time. I got used to it pretty quickly and started to feel even sexier being constantly admired by him. He pushed my legs apart and slid inside me so frequently my pussy was sore from the constant friction and stretching. No complaints though.

  One time when he saw me wince as I sat down, he took to licking me and using his tongue inside my pussy, ordering me to come in his mouth.

  I lay naked on the rug, in front of the fire he built for us. I jumped from the deck naked in the pouring rain and screamed at the chill in the water. Until Rand swam up to me, cutting powerfully through the water and warmed me up.

  By the end of the weekend we knew we couldn’t be parted. Not only had we cemented a real physical bond but it was just so easy, hanging out together. Me sitting on the counter while he prepped breakfast, swinging my legs I was so happy. Cuddled up on the couch, even without television up there in the wilderness, we had plenty to talk about and even more to keep us amused. Why do couples that live together even need TV?

  I had a plan but I had to take it easy on Rand and not make him think I was
asserting myself. He was already touchy enough about keeping me in my style, as he called it. The way he was talking he’d have to work every single hour of his life and then I’d never have him with me, like this.

  “I’m going to ask my father to invest in a dealership,” I said, while we were talking about how we could make this work. One obstacle at a time, right?

  Of course Rand flatly refused to take anything – says he will provide for us.

  “I just got through studying marketing and I intend to work,” I said to his stone face. “My father has been saying he’s going to set me up in a store. He’s thinking girly trinkets store – but he can think again.”

  “Nooo,” Rand shook his head when I told him my idea. “I’m no salesman – not exactly gifted with social graces for selling.”

  “But I am,” I insisted

  He looked dubious but I could see him starting to cave.

  “I need a job,” I continued. Laying it on as thick as possible, I know, but I had to get him to agree so we could be together. “We’ve already discussed this one and no way I’m staying home watching soaps all day and laundering filthy overalls.”

  “I’ve been doing my own laundry up until now,” he smirked. “That’s not why I want you with me.”

  “I know what I want to do,” I insist. “And it works perfectly for our lives. I’m going to convert more people into healthy cars. You know, those electric ones. No more fossil fuels that seem to cause so many wars.”

  He nods agreement – I know that he cares about the planet too. So I go in for the killer.

  “Then you could have the garage in back,” I add.

  He raises his eyebrows.

  “We’ll be partners. I’ll be there with you every day. Like this.”

  “Like this?” he says, leaning in to kiss my hard nipple. “I’ll never get a fucking thing done.”

  “I love the idea of working alongside you- coming to you whenever you call.”

  “Ha, don’t pretend that’s all for my benefit. You have a voracious appetite little girl.”

  “Only since I met you.”

  Our discussion was tabled then as he pulled me up on his lap straddling him so he had access to all his favorite parts of me, spread out before him.

  Rand

  Six months later

  Caila’s father was none too pleased about the plan and I can’t say I blamed him. The idea of the mechanic calling him ‘Dad’ instead of Mr Ferris rankled every bone in his body. He wanted me gone, not welcomed into the family and as a business partner too. But Caila can be very persuasive. It’s true she’s made for sales.

  “No one’s going to buy a car from an – excuse me – ex con,” he said.

  “They can buy one from me,” she told him, delighting in the shock on his face.

  “Who buys a car from a girl?” he blustered.

  Damn, even I’d have known not to say those words to Caila. Hellfire sprang into her eyes, but she put her little hands on those hips and gave him a cheeky grin at the same time and I could tell she was wrapping him around her little finger. Slowly slowly, like she did me to get this crazy stunt of hers approved. I have no doubt she’d make a great sales person.

  “This one could sell sand to the Sahara,” I told Mr Ferris.

  “Dad, either we do this and work together or Rand and I will make a home in a new town.”

  “You know how folks are,” her father said, starting to come around. “You can wipe a slate clean in time, make yourself respectable again. Even Nixon did it. I bet OJ will.”

  The guy’s a smart manipulator, a business person. I saw him working all the angles in his head. Keeping his daughter with him, investing in a good business project. He was slow to let go of the idea of his daughter with a jailbird though. People mostly want to think badly of others when they can, I’ve realized. Prison gives them the perfect opportunity.

  I let Caila have her own way.

  I doubt I could ever refuse this girl anything she wanted.

  First thing I did was set about finding a new apartment that would be good enough for her to stay over in.

  “What about we get one together,” she said. “That way I can share the rent and we can get a bigger one.”

  That was where I put my foot down.

  “I don’t make a woman pay rent. I can support you even if I have to work seven days, two jobs, to do it.”

  She pouted at that and said she only wanted to be with me. I got her to agree to letting me find a place she’d love.

  I must have looked at every fucking dump in town and nothing would do.

  Then, as I was about to give up on our town and say we’d have to move somewhere else, I saw the top floor of an old house, close to a hundred years old. Here I was stretching myself a couple hundred beyond my budget and the paintwork was all peeling, the place going to rack and ruin. I almost took off when I pulled up outside, but something told me to see it through.

  The old lady, Gloria Walgreen was living alone with her three poodles. Almost ninety, she couldn’t see that well but boy could she talk. She served me tea in a cup so small and dainty I almost shattered it in my grip picking it up. After telling me her life story and hearing mine, she said the rent would be half what the ad said.

  “I don’t want trash living here in pappy’s house,” she rambled on. “But I can tell you’re a good one.”

  She had to be deranged.

  “Oh I know you’ve had troubles. Even without y’all telling me, I could sense it in every pore of you soon as you came in. But I know a good man when I’m around one and I appreciate your honesty with me. I haven’t witnessed that in too many men in my lifetime. So if you’ll take care of keeping up this big ol’ house, you and your gal can move in whenever you like.”

  I brought Caila that same day to look at the place, needing her approval.

  She ran around the rooms, clutching my arm with both hands when she wasn’t clapping them together.

  “It’s so perfect. This round tower room can be our bedroom and look at this huge bath tub.” She eyed me greedily and I almost tossed her in it right then.

  “There’s a swing on the porch and all the roses in the yard. How can you afford it, Rand?”

  “I can fucking afford anything if you want it.”

  “Really?”

  “Let’s say honesty won out this time.”

  She fell in love immediately. And so did I – with her.

  I hope you enjoyed my three steamy older man romances and now just until the big day, scroll down for a sneak peak at Bossy Valentine…

  Bossy Valentine

  Chapter One - Mabel

  First day back and I'm rushing through the rain to get to the office before it pours down and soaks me through. It's already been one of those days this morning. Which I guess is gonna happen when you go on vacation with your guy and discover him doing the masseuse behind the cabana.

  By 'one of those', I mean the days you know you should have pulled up the covers and stayed under there with a couple of hot romance novels. Because the only romance I'm ever getting myself into from here on, is between the covers of a book. I left my umbrella at the home and clearly the week from hell is going to continue. Even my suntan has run away to hide.

  Ugh. I won't even think about anything that reminds me of the vacation that makes a week in jail seem like fun. Seven days away from the rain and cold, lying on a beach in Mexico sounded like just what I needed when Sam asked me along. We'd only been dating a few months so I was surprised he wanted to take it to the next level, as I didn’t think we were that much of a thing.

  And I guess we weren’t because he made me pay my own ticket and then I discovered him getting a massage. Except the wrong person of the pair was lying sprawled across the couch, with my boyfriend’s cock all the way inside her.

  I'm glad to be getting back to work. Funny I know, who says that? But I love my job and my boss.

  Literally love him.

  He's th
e sexiest guy in the city and he knows it. Dates a lot of hot women – the typical skinny supermodel type. Not the ordinary girl that sits home in cozy PJs, with hot chocolate and a good book for company. So I can't have Darcy Eglinton and Sam didn’t even rate my 'benefits' as being worth keeping.

  I'm feeling pretty sorry for myself and in a moment of thoughtlessness, as my brain races to hold the teariness from rising any further into my eyes, I step off the sidewalk into the blaring sound of the driver leaning on a horn.

  My body goes flying through the air as, thank heavens, I'm somehow yanked back from the path of the vehicle.

  Every cell is pounding on high alert as fast as my heartbeat. My breath comes in riotous bursts but I feel a gush of pure safety at having skirted danger. Thanks solely to the two massive hands clamped on my hips. I'm leaning hard as I catch my breath against the rock solid broad torso of a very strong gentleman.

  In an instant, I realize my butt cheeks are lying against the rather powerful swell at his groin and I spin around with thanks and apologies already spouting from my lips. Still reeling from facing near death, I turn to face the most gorgeous man I've ever seen.

  “Oh, wow. I mean hello, Sir. Hello, Mr Eglinton.”

  My boss has his hands on me.

  I sound like such a dummy. But the fact is, I've never, not once in two years of working at Eglinton Enterprise, seen my boss outside of the office. Rarely even outside of his actual office, where he sits behind the monolithic black desk, trading and dealing from light to dusk.

  He leaves in his private elevator, takes it down to the private lot where his chauffeur waits with the car to spirit him off to whatever exquisite evening affair he's attending or direct to his penthouse apartment. Seeing him out on the street, with the rest of us down-to-earth mortals is almost more of a shock than going under the wheels of an SUV.

  “Mabel, are you okay,”