by Morgan Fox
She watched as her daughter mixed the cereal and milk together, never once looking up. Silence devoured them for several minutes before another word was exchanged.
“Who was that guy that dropped you off the other night?”
Claire blinked hard, her throat clenching at the inquisitive and almost jealous tone Lacey used. She furrowed her brow, rounding to face her daughter. She was staring into her bowl of cereal, mindlessly stirring.
“That was a friend.”
Lacey glanced up. “A boyfriend?”
Claire had never had a conversation with Lacey about boys or a dating life. She never had to. Her life had always been focused on the two of them.
“Would it trouble you if he was?”
She scowled, avoiding the question. “How do you know him?”
Claire kept her composure even though the feelings inside her were all over the place. The need to end things with Nox surfaced, but she shoved them down, wondering where all of these questions from Lacey would end up. “Several ways actually. He teaches at the university and he is a friend of a friend.”
“Are you dating? Is it serious?”
When had her daughter grown up enough to have this conversation with her? “I wouldn’t call it dating, but I have seen him on occasion.”
“Do you like him?”
Did she? Yes. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t going anywhere beyond the bedroom…or car…or custodial closet. They had chemistry, sexual chemistry, but that was all.
“Yes,” she finally admitted.
“What’s his name?”
Claire paused, swallowing hard. “Nox.”
She rolled her eyes, picking up her uneaten cereal and dumping it into the sink. “What kind of name is Nox?” She shoved past Claire.
“Lacey—”
“I’m going to school,” she said, cutting Claire off and heading for the front door.
Going to school?
“Lacey, wait,” Claire called after her, grabbing the door to watch as her daughter descended the steps. “I want to talk with you.”
“I’m going to catch a ride with Becky,” she shouted over her shoulder, but Claire ran down the stairs and grabbed Lacey’s arm, stopping her. “What, Mom?”
A knot the size of Texas consumed Claire’s stomach and squeezed her heart. What had gotten into Lacey? Anger and confusion fired inside her, something that didn’t happen between her and Lacey. “Don’t ‘what’ me, young lady. You don’t leave until I say so.”
Lacey huffed out a breath, rolling her eyes. “Then say so already. I don’t want to talk. I want to go to school.”
Claire had a feeling that she was angry about Nox being in her life. But she wasn’t ready to tell her about it. She’d have to buy her time and wait until Lacy was ready to talk.
Claire released her arm, and Lacey darted to Becky’s front door. Her mom waved to Claire and Claire waved back, hiding the heartbreak she felt over Lacey. Lacey never bothered to glance back.
Guilt hit Claire hard, as Becky’s mom loaded the kids into the car and drove away. Lacey was upset, and she was targeting Nox. Was it because Claire had spent more time away from home lately, or was there something else going on in Lacey’s life Claire had been too busy to notice?
Perhaps Claire needed a brief hiatus from her affair with Nox. At least until she figured things out with Lacey.
Maybe it’s time to end it.
Chapter Seven
Nox watched the clock. He never thought this day would end. He rushed home to make sure everything was clean and tidy and his refrigerator was stocked with plenty of food and drinks to last he and Claire the night.
He recalled her cabana boy hint at what her fantasy might be, so he donned a pair of black speedos and prepared a few tropical-style drinks with pink and blue umbrellas and a slice of pineapple to get the night started. As night fell, he lit the torches along the backyard path toward the pool surrounded by thick foliage and turned on the pool light. The blue glow made everything look mystic—just the right amount of light.
Then, he texted Claire, “I’m home and waiting.” His smile faded when, after an hour, there was no reply. He texted again. “Where are you?”
He grew frustrated, pacing his living room, anxious to see her. His stomach felt like a war was raging inside. She’s not coming. His instincts told him that, so he put on a robe and said to hell with the night.
To hell with everything.
Disappointment rattled him and he tried to shake it off, but he couldn’t. Worse still, he didn’t understand it. Was he disappointed he wasn’t sleeping with Claire again or that she just didn’t show? Why should it matter? It was just supposed to be sex, right?
A buzz alerted him and he moved to the front door. It was Claire. A strange eagerness kicked him hard. The excitement of seeing her surfaced, but he contained it, hoping to discover why she was hours late. Why it looked like she didn’t want to be there with him.
Claire wore those tight jeans and Iron Horse T-shirt that made his mouth water. He almost hauled her against him and kissed the breath from her body. Almost.
Claire licked her lips nervously. “I’m sorry I’m late. I pulled an extra shift and worked later than I intended.”
A subtle relief eased from his chest, but he still sensed that something was off. He didn’t press.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“That would be great.”
She followed him into the kitchen, and it didn’t take a genius to see that something wasn’t right between them. She stood with the island separating them, her eyes searching, but never on him. She twisted her hands and fidgeted with her hair, pushing it behind her ear. She displayed behavior he hadn’t witnessed before. Even their first night together had been different. She’d been different. She had a hidden confidence, a yearning for pleasure and satisfaction. She’d been fearless in her desires. This Claire wasn’t the same.
Awareness hit him. There was only one thing that had changed since the last time they’d seen each other. He’d discovered she had a daughter.
He handed her a cocktail. “Would you like to go outside and talk?”
Her eyes rounded. “Talk?”
He grinned. They didn’t usually have much to say. They were too busy fucking to have a conversation. Dinner with Victor and Janie had been their first real chat.
“Yes. Talk.” He picked up his own drink and led her out the double French doors to the patio deck. “This is the perfect place for a drink.” Moonlit sky, glowing candles, torches, a pool, and a warm breeze.
Claire released a breathy laugh. “It’s perfect. It’s a vacation in your own backyard.” She glanced his way. “You did this for me, didn’t you?”
“You said cabana boy.” He smirked, opening his robe to reveal his speedo and nothing else. “I give you, cabana boy.”
She chuckled. “You sure did.”
Once again her gaze drifted off, her eyes filled with thoughts. “What’s on your mind, Claire?”
“Nothing,” she lied.
“Nothing would have you naked in my arms,” he said, sipping his drink. “Since you’re not…” He didn’t need to finish his thought.
She gulped down her drink. His brow rose high.
“Would you like another?”
She nodded.
After a few minutes, he returned with four new drinks and placed them on the table. She selected one and drank. He wouldn’t rush her, even though his curiosity was maxed to the brim.
She plopped back into the chair. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“About what? Us?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I liked this,” she said, pointing to him and back to her, and then circling her finger around them, indicating the oasis that surrounded them. “I don’t know if I can keep up the—”
“Our affair,” he finished, sipping his drink.
She nodded.
“Is it lack of interest, time, or family that has you saying t
hat?”
Her eyes widened, and she downed her second drink. “Certainly not lack of interest.”
He finished his own drink and sat the glass on the table. He shrugged out of his robe, letting it fall on the chair behind him. The warmth of his body from the night air and alcohol was making him sweat. Then again, it might have been what he was preparing to say that had that effect on him.
“Claire, you’re the first woman I’ve ever wanted to spend this much time with…consecutively. I don’t date. I don’t have random long-term affairs.” He picked up another drink. “You’re different.”
Her eyes lit with intrigue. “How so?”
The corner of his mouth lifted as he recalled the second he had laid eyes on her. A beauty. When she spoke, her voice was angelic and breathy. Her touch captivating.
“You’re my equal,” he said matter-of-factly. “I didn’t know someone like you existed.”
“It’s funny you say that. I’ve thought that about you, too.” She paused. “At least sexually.”
He smiled, and Claire seemed to relax.
“Exactly,” he replied, raising his glass to her before he took another sip.
Silence fell between them, his eyes unable to look anywhere but in her direction. “So tell me what other complications we face with our arrangement.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “Am I asking too much of you?”
She shrugged. “Part of me says no.”
“And the other?”
“Is riddled with guilt,” she admitted.
Her daughter. Why does she worry so much about her? Technically, he wasn’t supposed to know she existed.
“Why guilt? Because you like being with me so much?” He winked.
“Yes.”
He held his breath. Her direct response was unexpected. “Then how is that a bad thing?”
“Because I shouldn’t.” She stood.
She seemed irritated with him, but why? She had a bartending job, schooling, and a child. He didn’t demand a damn thing from her, except to give her endless orgasms whenever she wanted. What the hell was wrong with that? “I don’t see an issue.”
“Things are different now.”
“Did you get married or start dating someone else?”
Her blue eyes narrowed. “Last I checked, what we do is not dating.”
He clenched his jaw. Dating? Did he want that from her? That wouldn’t be difficult for him. He only wanted Claire. “Should we be?”
Her breath hitched. “No. I don’t want that. I can’t.” She paused. “My life is—”
“Is what? Complicated? Challenging? Busy?” He laughed. “Whose isn’t?”
Damn, she’s the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met.
She raked her fingers through her hair. “You really don’t make things easy, you know that?”
He shot from his chair and clasped her by her shoulders. “I prefer things hard.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his body, his hardening body. “So now what?”
* * * *
When Nox pressed up against her like this, Claire couldn’t think. She could only feel. And smell. God in heaven, he smelled of ecstasy and primal sin. She grew lightheaded.
“Stop,” she whispered, her flesh tingling as he brushed his whiskered jaw over her cheek, nuzzled against her ear, and kissed her neck.
“Stop what?” he murmured, his lips on her skin. “Stop making you shiver? Stop making you desire what only I can give you?” He nibbled the lobe of her ear and she panted, her breath rushing from her chest as her nails dug into the firm flesh of his arms. “I don’t think so.”
Her knees went weak. He cradled her face in his hands, bringing her gaze to lock with his. He took her mouth, a sensual caress that had her breathless for more. The taste of his kiss was maddening, overriding the reasons she’d come to see him in the first place. The more he touched her and kissed her, the further into oblivion she fell.
I came to tell him…something. She moaned. He feels so good.
“Go away with me for the weekend, and I’ll do things to you that you only dreamed about.”
The deep rasp in his voice curled her toes. A wild quiver slid down her spine. She closed her eyes tight, the need in her so savage it scared her.
Again he kissed her, his hands working over her body. Made boneless by the mere touch of his lips and his massaging hands, she couldn’t resist him, even knowing that she should. Regardless of consequences, she craved the time away with him. A chance to live in a world without responsibility. A chance to be selfish. A chance to unravel the woman she truly was with a man who desired her beyond her wildest dreams.
“Make the arrangements you need and let’s go away this weekend.” He eased back to meet her gaze. “Unless you’re afraid to be with me.”
Afraid of him? Hell yes she was, but not as in monsters under her bed, but more of the wanton he made her. Of her lack of sheer will to deny him anything.
“All right,” she told him, between kisses. “I’ll go.”
He stopped, his eyes bright as his mouth curled into a sexy grin. “I can’t wait.” He pinched her chin with his forefinger and thumb. “Don’t even think of canceling on me, Claire. I swear to you that I’ll come to your home and steal you away with me.”
Why did hearing him say that make her sigh?
He kissed her hard, and on a gasp, she cradled her body to his and wrapped her arm around his neck. Then, at the most inconvenient timing, her phone rang.
“Ignore it,” he muttered against her mouth.
“I can’t,” she breathed, pushing gently against his chest.
It could be my daughter. And as she looked at the screen of her phone, she’d been right to want to answer it. It was her daughter.
“I have to take this.” She moved away from him, stepping off the deck to get a bit of privacy. “Lacey, what’s wrong?”
“Are you coming home after work tonight?”
Guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. She should be home with her daughter, but instead she’d ended up at Nox’s house. “I’ll be home shortly. Did you eat dinner already?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll see you soon.” The line went dead and she was left with a hollow ache in her chest.
“Everything okay?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I need to go.”
He didn’t seem surprised as he sipped his drink and sat down in the chair at the table. “Are we still on for this weekend?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
For no other reason than that it was truly what she wanted to do. She just wasn’t sure what to do with Lacey.
Is it all right to leave her? She swallowed hard. I’ll figure something out.
She moved to him, leaned over, and kissed him. “Send me the details.”
Then she left, wondering how she’d come over to end things with him only to arrange to go away for the weekend.
What the hell am I doing?
Chapter Eight
Claire studied the texted from Nox, and a wave of apprehension took hold. He told her to dress and pack for the motorcycle. Translation—they weren’t trailering the bike to their destination as she’d initially assumed. They were riding the entire way.
What kind of motorcycle does he own? Should I pack a backpack or a duffle bag?
Outside of working at Iron Horse and having ‘owning a motorcycle’ on her bucket list, she knew nothing about riding. Nor did she know how Nox could handle a bike. She was taking a major chance going with him. Other than Victor and Janie’s word that he had riding skills and that they were going with them, she was in the dark.
What have I gotten myself into?
Shoving down the anxiety, she opened her drawers and pulled out underclothes, a few pairs of jeans, some T-shirts, a blouse that looked great with jeans, her bathing suit, and her boots—both combat and cowgirl. She loved boots. She donned a pair of jeans, a purple T-shirt, and her combat boots. Then, she fo
und a small black duffle bag and placed her items inside the bag with her toiletries. Thank goodness she’d already purchased travel-sized shampoo, conditioner, body wash, toothpaste, and hairspray.
“Mom, I can’t find my other shoe,” Lacey grumbled, entering Claire’s bedroom.
“Where did you last leave it?”
“If I knew that—” Claire glared at her daughter, and she quickly pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes. Correcting her tone, but not her attitude, she said, “I don’t remember.”
Claire slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out of her room. “If I were your shoe, I’d most likely be beside the sofa or a chair in the kitchen.”
“I looked there already,” she argued, pouting. “Why can’t you look for me?”
Claire faced Lacey and, with a smile, said, “Would you mind cleaning the bathrooms, vacuuming, and dusting, so that I can look for your shoe?”
Lacey’s eyes and mouth rounded. “But—”
Claire’s smile grew. “Do that for me or go and look for your shoe.”
“Fine. I’ll look again.” She stormed off.
In ten minutes, she was back wearing both shoes. Claire held back her grin. “Where’d you find your shoe?”
“The sofa,” Lacey muttered, but clearly enough to be heard.
“Do you have your overnight bag packed?” Claire had asked Lacey’s best friend Becky’s mom if she could have a weekend sleepover. Luckily, they said yes. It was the one place Claire hoped Lacey would be happy and too distracted to be angry with her for not staying home.
“Yes,” she hissed, annoyed. “Where are you going again?”
“Austin,” Claire replied.
“And that guy from the other night will be taking you?”
Claire paused to look at her daughter. “His name is Nox, and yes.”
“When will you be home?”
Claire pulled her daughter against her, wrapping her in a hug. Lacey didn’t resist, just hugged her back. Her daughter was being protective, she could feel it, but she didn’t need to be. Claire was the mom, not Lacey. “I’ll be home soon enough. The weekend always goes by fast.”
