by Susan Arden
He contemplated the boundless sky, as mysterious as the woman next to him. There wasn’t a cloud visible; had they been back at Evermore, the stars would have shone brightly. Here, they were perceptible, yet hidden.
The whole universe seemed open, so vast and at the same time beyond his reach, and for the first time this plagued him. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Don’t you?” she stopped walking. “We’ve known each other forever. Suddenly, this thing is happening. Between us. You’re a good man, but a man with a reputation. Do you think I’m just supposed to cave and be another one of your friends with benefits?” Under the lamppost light her skin color deepened.
She was calling him out on something that embarrassed her, and what was he supposed to do, deny that he liked to drink and have a good time? He’d scoffed whenever anyone tried to slam him or shame him. It was always someone else’s problem. Except, coming from her, this situation became his problem. A problem that crashed at his feet, standing next to her. Something that he wanted to fix. But how?
“No sense denying history, but are you telling me you’ll crucify me because of what I’ve done in the past?”
“Your past isn’t far away. Tell me, were you out in Clarkesville…a few nights ago? Since we saw each other last, you’ve not had sex with at least one woman? Please.”
She nailed him, but the facts were all wrong. “It’s not as black and white as you’d like to make it, Your Honor,” he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair.
She had him cornered. He couldn’t elucidate the details of how he’d been on a mission to prove she hadn’t gotten under his skin. Each time he’d come, it was envisioning her beneath him, her body between his hands, and his thrusts gained momentum thinking about being inside her. Those facts were a defense, but, if anything, she’d hate him to hear how he’d used those women. For the first time in the history of his sexual experience, he’d used sex with unknowing partners to assuage his thoughts and release his body, and his soul, too, if God was keeping tabs on him.
“I’ll give you Brownie points for not denying the truth. At least I can trust you not to spin a boldfaced lie. What do you want from me, Stephen? I can’t become another one of the women you have sex with. I’m not that type of woman.”
He captured her other hand and pulled her toward him, inches away, close enough to contemplate the shape of her eyes and the tip of her tongue that licked over her lips, wetting them in the most provocative way. “I am painfully aware of how different you are, Gillian Sinclair. And I haven’t a clue as to what to do with you. If I could lock you away, I think I would. It’s the only thing I want to do…truthfully, the only thing I’ve considered, other than the obvious desire to make love to you. If I could sequester you away from me and every other horny male, I would.”
She stared up at him, her gaze drifting from his eyes downward. She bit her lip, a gesture she seemed to make when thinking hard, and had him wanting to kiss her. Was she thinking this was the biggest mistake she’d made? Or that he was a jerk she’d better cut loose?
To his surprise, she moved closer, tipping her face upward, and pressed her soft mouth against his. The moment her lips met his, he didn’t consider anything other than the feel of her warm mouth, and how good it felt to kiss her. God, he wanted her, and he let his fantasy free. His hand found her hair, then his other hand held her, squeezing her hip. He cupped her head, possessing her mouth with his tongue thrusts. The way she opened her mouth, giving him more of her, had him losing ground in the world of sane ideas.
He deepened the kiss, taking whatever he could get from her, devouring her mouth just in case this was the last time he’d have this chance. His hand slipped around her hip, pulling her body into him. She fit against him, and he pulled her bottom upward, rubbing his cock against her tight mound, the hem of her skirt just millimeters from his fingertips.
Hell, if he got his hand below her skirt, he’d have them disgraced in no time. He poured his groan down her throat. Breaking from her mouth, he murmured, “You feel so good. Gillian, I don’t want to hurt you.”
The last vestige of his self-control slammed the brakes on his desire. Stephen held back from touching her everywhere. He clenched his jaw, breaking the kiss when his body demanded to know what the fuck he was doing. Traitor, it railed, attempting to castigate his intellect.
“I don’t want you to hurt me, either. But can you walk away and not look back?”
“Not even if you scratched my eyes out.”
“Then what? We just jump into bed and see how long that lasts?”
His dick throbbed, agreeing whole-heartedly that her proposition sounded A-OK. High five. Let’s go. His mind began to flounder, watching her expression, the way she tilted her head, her hands on his arms. And Christ, the feel of her.
He’d agree to anything she suggested. “I know that’s not what you want. Why don’t you tell me what it is you seeing happening between us? I mean, what you’d find agreeable,” he said.
“You don’t date. So—”
“Wait. Who says I don’t date? I can date a woman.”
She laughed in his face. “Name a woman you’ve recently dated.”
The back of his neck heated and something sucker-punched him in the lungs, forcing him to expel a shallow breath.
Sputtering, he said, “Give me a second.” But shit, she had him. He drew a blank. “Well, I haven’t met anyone of interest lately. I don’t think that means a thing.”
“It does in this discussion.”
“I can date a woman,” he repeated. “It’s not like I’m some social doofus.”
“I didn’t mean you were. I just don’t know if you realize that a lot goes into being in that frame of mind. Some guys just aren’t…cut out for the dating scene.”
“Well, then, tell me something, Miss Smarty Pants. When’s the last time you dated regularly? I mean, if it’s so gosh-darn easy.”
Her nostrils flared, and her eyes flashed green arcs of fire. “That’s not the same. And you know it.”
“Wrong. It’s exactly the same. If you’re saying you haven’t dated because you haven’t found anyone who makes you want to sit and talk, or kiss, then, yes. It. Is. Exactly the same.”
She paused, seeming to consider his words. He scrambled, not about to lose traction now that he’d gotten his foot in the door. “Christ sakes. Gillian, come out with me on a date. Anywhere you’d like. You name it. How about a fancy restaurant in Clarkesville as our first date? French cuisine and candles. I imagine that’s what a girl like you’d prefer?”
“Oh, really. A girl like me.” She side-glanced him and he knew he had her. “I don’t know about that…as a first date?”
“Then tell me. What would you like to do? What are you doing anyway, this weekend? One date, and you can give me pointers for the future.” He squeezed her fingertips, shaking her arms.
“There’s the county fair. I’ve been meaning to go. Some of my students are performing.”
He’d not been to a fair since he was a kid. But he’d walk across hot coals or balance on a tightrope if it meant she’d agree to a date. “You’re on. When would you like to go?”
“How about this Friday evening? Say, after dark.”
“I don’t have anything to write your telephone number down.”
“Jeez, Stephen. How long has it been since you’ve dated?” She shook her head, giving his arm a squeeze. “Give me your phone and I’ll infrared my info into your contact list.”
He reached into his pocket, taking out his phone and placing it into her waiting palm.
“A while. But you agreed, so no backing out.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not backing out. We’ve already discussed that neither you nor I fit the mold of normal dating people. I’ll check my expectations at the door, if you do the same.”
He stuck out his hand, eager to close this deal. “Agreed.”
The soft petals of her fingertips lightly caressed his hand. N
ow what? He didn’t want to take her back to the Diamond. Not with her friends and his sister there to fill her head with complete baloney. Cory was the least of his concerns, though. His sister might be a bit spoiled, but he had her back and, when push came to shove, he’d never had to question any of his siblings’ loyalty. No, the one person who might cause him concern was Lori. He had no desire to be in the middle of a group of women where he’d had sex with one of them and wanted to date another.
He’d never considered what Lori might say about him. He’d never done anything to harm her. Then again, he’d not done anything much to convince Gillian that he was a gentleman, either, which was his real concern.
With the usual women he met up with, being a gentleman wasn’t really what any of them wanted from him. They certainly weren’t looking for one when it came time to hit the sheets.
His game plan had to change. Taking Gillian out, he needed to revisit his dusty playbook on the rules of dating. He wondered if there was an undated version, something down and dirty about guerilla tactics outlining how to win points and not make a mess of his one shot.
Talk about watching out for payback. He heard Gillian’s name being called. Then he saw her friends coming down the alley. Laughing and talking loudly, they were more than a good deal past feeling no pain. It was after ten and they’d been drinking for a couple hours. Unlike Gillian and him, who were straight arrows.
Gillian pressed closer to him and squeezed his hand, replacing his cellphone. “I forgot to tell them I was leaving.”
“They don’t look angry.”
He didn’t understand, but imagined there was some rule amongst women going out in a group that they would come and find any stragglers who left the pack. Thank God he and Gillian were just standing there talking. Nothing that would provoke talk or advice. He hoped. His hackles rose at the sight of Lori’s narrowed eyes, and her gaze dipping down and then up again. Fuck, he’d seen that she-wolf behavior before, and nothing good came of it.
“Oh, they’re not. Probably just concerned.”
“Did you drive yourself here tonight?” he asked quietly, not knowing what car she drove, and eyeing the parking lot.
“Yes. Why?”
“Only thinking about a quick getaway from your posse is all. I suspect that’s impossible now that they’re barreling down on us.”
“I left my purse. You know how it is with a group of women. Pretty tight.”
“Yep. I can tell.”
By that time, her friends were fast approaching them. He counted down the feet until the group would converge on them, exhaling in exasperation for not getting her down the street and into the diner as he’d originally planned.
“Well, well,” Lori said. “What have we here?”
Chapter 4
“We’re out enjoying the fresh air,” Gillian responded. Stephen had let go of her after she’d gone plank stiff.
For a man who claimed not to know much about dating, he seemed in tune with her, not requiring everything to be spelled out. As far as she was concerned, most men might not want to converse, but heaven help a woman who wanted a guy to do something without a detailed explanation. At least Haden required as much whenever she wanted or needed his help.
“Nice night for a walk,” Lauren commented. “Hey, Stephen. How’s it going?”
“Good evening, Lauren, Lori, and I’ve already seen you.” He smiled wryly at Cory’s crinkled face.
Lori walked over toward Gillian. Thankfully she wasn’t pulling any punches yet, just sizing up the situation, from the look on her face.
“Where’s Luke?” Gillian couldn’t resist asking the question burning her brain.
“He’s keeping an eye on the table. We only wanted to make certain you…were okay.” Lori’s gaze shot to Stephen. Gillian wished her friend had better sense than to stand there trying to stare him down.
“I’m fine. Thanks for checking.” When Lori’s attention returned to her, Gillian held the woman’s gaze, unblinking, and gave her a very explicit expression that meant, not now. Gillian cocked her head back toward the Diamond.
At least Cory caught her meaning. “I don’t think harm is coming to Gillian. Stephen looks like he can keep her safe.”
Lori snorted, glancing down at the pavement. “Is that true? Stephen?”
Her friend was laying an unspoken message on the table. Maybe they all got it, or maybe not. Gillian kept her face placid as the tips of her ears heated to a crisp. This semicircle of women and one man bordered on primitive. Should she beat her chest and challenge Lori for the right to get the next shot with the sexual slugger standing next to her? The impulse to call a spade a spade pricked her self-control.
“Excuse me? I think my sister got it right. Gillian’s with me, and I’m not going to let anything or anyone harm her. Is that clear enough?”
“Loud and clear,” Lauren echoed. “Here, Gillian, I brought your purse.” Lauren held it out to her.
“Thanks, sugar. I was wondering about it.” Taking hold of the straps, Gillian stepped back, and a thick silence settled over the group.
Cory smiled at Stephen before motioning with her head. “Well, come on, girls. There’s more dancing to do.”
Lori turned to Gillian and, for a fleeting second, she stared at Gillian with an expression that bordered on disbelief. “You coming back inside?”
“No. I don’t think so. Thanks for bringing my purse,” Gillian said, as she refused to budge. She wanted them to leave so she could be alone with Stephen before he decided that this was much too much work for a woman he’d not score with…not on the first date. Was she thinking of having sex with him, seriously?
Lori continued to stare, mute as a brick. Gillian didn’t know what to say, but she didn’t have to speak as Stephen took command of the situation. “Okay, ladies. You’ve gotten my word, Gillian is safe. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Lauren looped her arm through Lori’s and pulled her to go. “We’ll see you around.”
Gillian waved awkwardly. “Take it easy.” In the past, when the group separated, especially if the cause was a gentleman, it was an unspoken condition that they’d call each other and find out what had happened. Tonight, she didn’t relish the idea of explaining why she was outside with Stephen.
“How about that cup of coffee?” he asked.
“Good idea. The diner up the street?” she asked, lowering her voice.
“I wish I could whisk you away to Clarkesville. You don’t like being under the microscope, do you?” He secured her hand in his and led her back out to the sidewalk. The street was well-lit with a wide median filled with flowering dogwoods. Painted benches were on the sidewalks in front of shops now closed. A couple of meat-n-threes, barbeque joints, and an all-night diner were the town eateries. They passed by a barber shop with the red-and-white pole out front.
Gillian peered inside the shop, letting her gaze wander over the red leather barber chairs. “You ever get your hair cut in there? My dad used to.”
He squeezed her hand. “Sure do. Once a week, Jackie trims my beard, believe it or not. I get an earful of the town gossip, like your dance recital coming up. Girl, you ask a million questions, but getting you to answer one is a chore. Answer me. Why do you care what other people think about you?”
She glanced over at him. His dark hair, nearly black, ended well above his collar, hugging his neck in a tight line. She bit down on her lip, remembering how thick his hair had been in her hands the morning she’d pulled it. It was true; she’d rather talk about someone else. Stephen was such an open book to her questions and, who knew, if her life was preordained she might be wild and wicked, without a care, too.
“You mean, because you don’t. Unlike you, I don’t come from a huge family. I didn’t grow up knowing what I’d be doing in twenty years. I’m not overly concerned with people’s opinions, but I do care what my friends might repeat. I’d rather none of them start to talk. You being friends with Haden…he already asked what
happened the other night. He knows you and Lori were in my room. No one saw you leave, but he knows you didn’t skedaddle before he crashed. Lucky for me, he didn’t see me come in, and no one remembers much or hasn’t told him. When I got home, two of his buddies were up. I don’t think you know them…Trucker and Mike. He only met them last week at some gig he’d played.”
Stephen stopped and stepped in front of her. The heat rolling off his body made her clench harder as she tried to control the emotions waging war within her. He lifted her chin after she began contemplating her shoes. Face tilted upward, she gazed into his piercing blue eyes that absorbed her into their fiery depths.
“Wait a minute, are you telling me he brings home just about anyone he happens to meet? Into the apartment? With you sleeping in the next room? And you’re worried about him finding out about me? What about you? Who the heck is watching out for you?” He moved closer to her, his voice rising, but she got that he wasn’t angry with her. Still, she felt on edge and did what came naturally when he pushed.
“He doesn’t bring home strange girls,” she flung back, sorry to be so defensive, fighting the sting of tears. Try as she might, stepping away from him wasn’t going to happen with his fingers curling around her arms. As she pulled in one direction, he pulled harder in the other. Stephen’s strength won out, bringing their bodies into contact. Her breasts brushed up against his shirt; an ache filled her with wanting what he could deliver. Was this lust or need? Or both?
He brought her toward him swiftly, forcing her to lean back in order to meet his gaze. “What’s he thinking, putting you in a precarious position? You might get hurt. Is it worth the risk?” Stephen’s voice went low, gravelly.
His eyes darkened, not precisely in anger…oh no, there was a searing flame ready to lick her good. No one had ever looked at her in the way Stephen continued to contemplate her. And it wasn’t simply his eyes. The way he spoke, and how he framed the situation, only made her more aware that he wanted to protect her—another first in her life. Guys generally were nice enough to her, but no one actually saw her or cared enough to uncover her concerns. In a few minutes, Stephen exposed her in so many ways, leaving her open and vulnerable to him.
