Den Of Desire

by Shauna Hart

  His lips pressed against her ear as his hands gripped her hips, pulling her back against him. He rubbed the tip of his cock against her slick opening as he whispered in her ear.

  “What do you want?”

  She leaned her head back against his shoulder. “You.” She sighed.

  He drove into her, his cock sliding deep.

  Jesus!

  She felt so good.

  Like hot velvet.

  Better than anything he had felt in a long time. One hand slid up to pull the strap of her dress down her shoulders, bringing her bra with it. His hand cupped her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple. His mouth moved over her shoulder, her neck, but he wanted more. He pulled the dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor. He trailed kisses over her back as he unsnapped her bra. He wanted her naked, completely bare to him. His hands cupped her breasts, his fingers pinching her nipples as he continued to drive into her tight pussy.

  God, he was going to come soon.

  He slid one hand over her abdomen to delve into the blonde curls between her legs. His thumb began to lazily rub circles over her clit. He felt her cunt squeeze him. She threw her head back as she released a sexy moan. He pumped into her, allowing her pussy to milk the orgasm out of him. He released a low groan as it overtook him. He held her tight against him, not ready to let her go yet. He breathed in the scent of her arousal.

  “Come home with me.”

  He heard the words come out of his mouth, but he didn't quite believe that he said them. He never took women home. It was too personal, and it only served to create complications he didn't need. He had learned his lesson a long time ago. He had been burned before, and he refused to let it happen again.

  But holding Mara's naked body against his made him realize something.

  Whether it was right or wrong, he wanted her.

  He wanted to be with her.

  And he wasn't ready to let her go tonight.

  Not now.

  Not yet.

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  * * *

  Chapter 11

  Joe gripped the steering wheel tightly as he navigated through the city streets.

  What the hell had he been thinking when he'd invited her home?

  Asking her to come to his house was almost the dumbest thing he had done in a long time. Almost, because it seemed like everything he had done lately where Mara was concerned was pretty ridiculous.

  He glanced over at her. They had barely said two words to each other since they got in the car. She stared out the window, the city lights trailing across her skin as intimately as a lover's hand. Her short skirt revealed more of her legs than it hid. His knuckles turned white as he curled his fingers around the wheel.

  Damn!

  He had it bad.

  And no matter what he did with her, it wasn't going away.

  In all of the times he had been with a woman, he had never lost control.

  He couldn't.

  But with Mara, he had broken all the rules the second he touched her. He wasn't sure what it was about her that drove him to the limit. She had gotten under his skin, and no matter what he did to pry her out, it wasn't working.

  Taking her home with him was a mistake. He knew it, but he couldn't stop it, either. If he had been able to keep his mouth shut, he wouldn't be in this mess right now. He wasn't sure who had been more shocked by his proposal.

  Her ... or him?

  Still, once it left his mouth, there was no way to call it back.

  Pulling to the side of the road, he parked in front of the two-story Victorian he had gutted and refurbished three years ago. He didn't wait for her to get out as he followed the brick sidewalk that led to the front door. From the sounds of clicking heels on brick, he didn't need to worry. She was right behind him.

  “This is all yours?” she queried.

  He fit the key into the lock, feeling the heat of her body against his back.

  “Not according to the mortgage documents,” he replied brusquely.

  He pushed the door open to the foyer, disappearing into the kitchen.

  * * * *

  Mara's gaze scanned the interior of the house. She wasn't sure what she had expected when he'd invited her home, but this was definitely not it.

  Maybe a sleek loft or an expensive condo filled with black lacquer furniture?

  But, as she looked around the rooms, she realized that Joe Gates was a mass of contradictions. She would never have imagined that the man who ran an underground sex club would have a quaint Victorian house filled with antiques. A large crystal chandelier hung overhead, illuminating the small area. A mahogany staircase stood in front of her, the wood gleaming in the light.

  She heard Joe talking to someone in the other room, but she couldn't see who it was. She bit the inside of her lip as nervousness welled up inside of her. A woman came out of the kitchen. Her auburn hair had highlights that glinted in the light from overhead. Mara twisted the strap of her purse as she stared at the other woman. Unease crept up her spine. Instantly, she realized how foolish she had been to come here. After all, she knew nothing about Joe Gates.

  Were his sexual games limited to the club?

  Or did they extend further than that?

  The woman walked toward the door, pulling a jacket over her shoulders. Joe appeared from around the corner. His gaze pinned to Mara even as he spoke to the other woman.

  “Thanks, Ellen.”

  She cast a quick glance over her shoulder as she replied, “No problem. Tell him I'll see him tomorrow.”

  With that, the other woman disappeared out the door. After a moment of silence, Mara couldn't take it anymore.

  “Who was that?”

  He took a step closer to her. “Ellen's a friend,” he answered, his steps bringing him face to face with her.

  She tilted her head to the side, her jealousy bubbling up to the surface. “How good of a friend?” she prodded.

  His lips slid into a grin. “She helps me out from time to time,” he hedged.

  His hand slipped around her waist as he pulled her against him. All the breath in her lungs escaped at the feeling of his hard body pressed against hers. His mouth drifted across the sensitive skin of her neck, making her heart skip a beat. She allowed herself to savor the feeling for a moment before returning to the matter at hand.

  She eased back in his arms to look into his eyes. “Helps you with what, exactly?”

  He smiled. “Nothing that you're helping me with, if that's what you're wondering,” he explained.

  “Oh,” she said, wishing that she had kept her big mouth shut.

  She hated sounding like the jealous female who was obviously taking this relationship much more seriously than he was. Unfortunately, right now, she couldn't sound like anything else, because that was exactly what she was.

  And from the look on Joe's face, he knew it too.

  Color crept into her cheeks as his hands gripped her waist to pull her closer. Her nipples tightened under her dress at the feel of his chest pressed against hers.

  “Mara, don't think. Just feel,” he instructed her, before his mouth covered hers, his tongue demanding entrance.

  They fed off each other, each as hungry for the taste and feel of the other's body. Then he moved away, his hand leading her. She followed him up the staircase. He led her to a room at the end of the hall. A four-poster king-sized bed dominated the room. A marble fireplace that was dormant sat in front of the bed, and an antique dresser flanked the wall.

  She glanced around, looking for clues about his life, clues about who he was, but the room did not divulge any secrets. No pictures, no mementos. The room was bare of emotion despite the fact that it was equipped for comfort. But when he turned to face her, his hands roaming over her body, all thoughts vanished.

  Their clothes seemed to dissolve around them as their passion took over. When she lay beneath him, her hands traveling over the hard length of him, she felt her heart swell. His cock press
ed against her moist folds, teasing her. His eyes met hers as their bodies joined together.

  They had been together several times, each time more exciting than the rest. Still, as his lips met hers, she realized that this time was very different. There was something decidedly tender in the way he held her, the way he claimed her. His lips trailed over her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead. Afterward, as she lay beside him, she realized that what had begun as an adventure was no longer a game.

  She was in love with Joe Gates.

  She wasn't sure when it had happened or why. All she knew was that it was true. Somewhere in the midst of her sexual discovery, she had done the worst thing possible. She risked a glance at the sleeping man who had unwittingly stolen her heart. He tightened the hold on her waist subconsciously.

  How had a fling become so important?

  And what would she do when that fling suddenly ended?

  * * * *

  A noise from downstairs jolted her awake. She glanced around the room to find it empty. She sat up, pulling the sheet over her bare breasts. Sunlight crept through the lace curtain on the window. She slid out of bed as she spotted a white dress shirt hanging on the bedpost. Pulling it over her shoulders, she fastened several buttons to keep it together. After a quick brushing out of her hair with her fingers, she crept out into the hallway. She could hear sounds coming from downstairs as she slowly descended to the lower level.

  She walked through the dining room, the wood cold on her bare feet, as she moved toward the kitchen. Panic crept up her spine as she realized that the man sitting at the kitchen table was not Joe. His gray hair was slightly mussed, and he held a newspaper up in front of him. She started to turn to leave, but his voice stopped her.

  “Hello.”

  She turned to face him. “Hello,” she replied.

  He offered her a warm smile. “Do I know you?” he asked as he pushed his glasses further up on his nose.

  “No, I'm Mara,” she answered, self-consciously gripping the hem of Joe's shirt to pull it down farther.

  He put his paper down to cross the room to where she stood holding out a hand to her. “I'm James. It's nice to meet you.”

  She shook his hand as an uncomfortable silence settled between them. His eyes swept over her nearly naked state. She waited for the frown of disapproval, but it never came.

  “Are you here for breakfast?” he asked.

  Before she could answer, he motioned for her to sit next to him at the island in the middle of the kitchen. He picked up his newspaper and began to read. She stared at him for a moment, feeling increasingly awkward.

  “Have you seen Joe?” she inquired.

  He tilted his paper down to peer over it. “Joe? No, I don't believe that I have.”

  She heard the front door open and close and turned on the barstool. Ellen walked into the kitchen, her hair pulled into a loose bun at her nape. She offered Mara a welcoming smile as she walked over to put an arm around his shoulder.

  He turned to face her, his confusion clear. “Do I know you?” he asked.

  Mara frowned at the odd comment.

  Ellen laughed as she replied, “Well, I sure hope so, handsome, because we have a date to go to the library today. Now, go get your jacket so we can head out.”

  He grinned like a little boy as he got to his feet and left the room. Ellen stared after him for a moment before turning to face Mara.

  “Funny how as we get older we become more and more like the children we started out as. We didn't get a proper introduction last night. My name is Ellen Butterman.”

  Mara reached over to clasp the other woman's hand in hers. “Mara Templeton,” she returned.

  Ellen nodded. “I know. Joe told me. I'd swear that boy is a saint with the way he takes care of his grandfather. I sure hope I have someone like him who loves me enough to take care of me when I get to be that age.”

  “So you help take care of him?”

  Ellen offered a smile. “I'm here when Joe needs me,” she replied.

  Mara's eyebrows drew together. “What about his parents? What happened to them?” she asked.

  Ellen opened her mouth to answer but stopped when she heard the front door. Joe walked into the kitchen, his gaze jumping back and forth between the two women. James came back in, struggling with the zipper on his jacket. Joe crossed the room to zip the jacket for him.

  “Thanks,” James said, giving him a wide smile. “What was your name again?”

  “It's Joe, Grandpa. Remember?”

  Color crept into his cheeks. “I forgot again, didn't I?”

  Joe nodded. “It's okay. You're going to go to the library with Ellen, remember?” he prodded.

  His head bobbed up and down. “How could I forget a beautiful woman like her?”

  Ellen came over to slide an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, handsome. We'll be back in a little while, Joe. It was nice to meet you, Mara.”

  “You too,” Mara called out.

  Once they were left alone, Joe turned to face her. His gaze traveled over her length from the collar of his shirt to her bare feet.

  “Nice outfit,” he commented.

  Mara pulled at the hem of the shirt. “I didn't know that you lived with your grandfather,” she explained.

  Joe walked over to the island to remove the dirty dishes. He placed them in the sink. “He moved in with me a couple of years ago,” he stated brusquely.

  Mara stared at the rigid line of his shoulders as he stood at the sink. “What happened to him?”

  He lifted his head to stare out the window over the sink. “Doctors say it's Alzheimer's.” He turned to face her as he continued. “At first, it was just the little things, like forgetting to grab bread at the store. Then it was forgetting to lock the door. When he started forgetting to turn off the stove, I made him move in here.”

  Her heart went out to him as she began to realize that everything she had believed about this man was untrue. She took a step toward him, needing to feel close.

  “What about your parents? Couldn't they help out?” she inquired softly.

  He turned to face her. “My mother took off when I was three. And my dad ... well, my dad decided that she had the right idea when I was ten. After that, I lived with my grandfather.”

  She reached out to take his hand in hers. “And so now you take care of him,” she finished for him.

  “He was the only one who stuck it out for me. I could never turn my back on him or put him in a home. I owe him more than that,” he said.

  Her fingers linked with his as she took a step closer, her body brushing against his. “I didn't know.”

  He sighed heavily. “Not many people do. I thought they would be gone before you woke up,” he offered.

  She reached up to caress his cheek. “I'm glad I got to meet him. He's a sweet man.”

  His eyes met hers. “Mara...”

  She put her finger over his lips to stop him. “Shhh,” she said. “No more talking. You know, I was hoping to take a shower before I left. Maybe you could give me another private tour,” she suggested with a wink.

  His lips slid into a mischievous grin. “Then let's get started.”

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  Mara walked up to her apartment with a grin on her face. She had spent the entire morning getting the private “tour” with Joe. It still amazed her that everything she had believed about him was false. Climbing the stairs, she mentally replayed their last few moments alone together. Reaching into her purse, she felt around for her keys. When she found them, she lifted her gaze to the door.

  What she saw made her heart stop.

  A white silk scarf was wrapped around the doorknob. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that no one was following her before turning back to face the door. She blinked several times, wanting the image to disappear, but it didn't. Reaching out, she let the silk sift through her fingers.

  It couldn't be the same. />
  But it was.

  It had to be.

  The woman from the club in the white dress was real. She hadn't imagined it. She was staring at tangible proof. The odds of someone leaving a scarf on her door a few nights after she saw the woman in the club were too uncanny.

  She slid the key into the lock opening the door. After she was inside, she closed it and locked it. Throwing the scarf on the couch, she fell into a chair across the room. She gripped the arms for support.

  Someone was playing a prank on her. But who?

  Who would go to so much trouble for a simple joke?

  And who knew she would be at the club that night?

  She grabbed the scarf as she walked into her bedroom. Pulling the closet door open, she stuffed the scarf into a box on the top shelf. She was supposed to meet Joe at the club tonight, but she couldn't tell him about this.

  Not yet.

  Sounding like a flake was a quick way to end what they had. And she wasn't ready for that. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure she ever would be.

  * * * *

  Joe leaned back in his chair, staring at the monitors. Things had gotten complicated, more complicated than he had ever anticipated. Being with Mara was opening a door that had been closed for years.

  A door he wasn't sure he was ready to open for anyone.

  As if merely thinking about her could conjure her, she appeared on the screen. He watched her glide through the darkened corridors. The grainy monitor could not capture the sleek line of her body or the tightening of her nipples, but he knew he would see it if he joined her. Despite the overwhelming desire to join her, he remained where he was. Giving in to his desires with Mara had already gotten him into hot water. Maybe it was best not to entertain them. She knew too much about him. She was too close. And, deep down, he knew that he had to do something to stop it. A relationship wasn't something he was ready or equipped for. It would never fit into his life.

  It was only a matter of time before he had to break things off.

  He watched her stop to view a room. Her lips parted as her breathing increased. A less observant man might have missed the subtle signs of her arousal. But not him. He had made a career out of figuring out what turned people on. He raised the remote control to capture the scene that she was watching. A woman with red hair stood naked between two men. Their hands roamed over her body, seeking out every inch of her. One man kissed her breast while the other's mouth trailed over her neck. The woman's head was thrown back in abandon, her face a mask of pleasure.