Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  “There are two shows a night, three on the weekends. Occasionally there are clubs that book a private but for those the roster is called, it’s not assigned. Starters get three days, so six shows a week, more if you do well. That’s it. Your call.”

  Cynder stopped talking and waited. It took Maggie a minute to catch up, her mind kept echoing ‘just like that.’

  “Okay. I’m game. What now?”

  Cynder grinned and hit a buzzer.

  “Now, you get measured and get on the practice schedule. It’ll be a couple'a weeks at least before you hit stage.”

  Maggie grinned back, thinking it was perfect timing.

  “Good. I have about that long before my week day hours are out at work.”

  WELL PAST DARK MAGGIE made her way back to the city. It was going to be a haul back and forth but if the possibilities were even close to what Cynder had led her to believe, it could be worth it. She had thought Ava had taken a lot of measurements, Ha! That had been the warm up for a showgirl costume measuring. Maggie had two pair of shoes to get used to as well, both higher than anything she’d ever worn.

  She was thankful the shoes were in the trunk as she pulled into her stall. A black on black muscle car sat curbside. Thorne was here.

  ‘Photographs and memories...’

  Maggie stashed the photo and the envelope of papers between the seat and the console grabbing only her purse before getting out. The dash display said it was nearly eleven. She wondered how long he had been waiting and what had brought him in the first place.

  Thorne was not in his car as she passed. Walking in, he was also not in the foyer. Maggie collected her mail and racked her brain as she climbed the stairs coming up empty. They did not have plans she could remember. Turning at the landing, he was sitting on the top step. Before she thought about it and remembered her manners she blurted out, “Did we have plans?”

  His smile and, ‘Hello to you too.’ reminded her of her forgotten hospitality as he continued.

  “No, we didn’t. I thought I’d swing by when my evening fell through and see if you’d eaten.”

  She had. She rummaged her apartment through the door behind him in her mind quickly before answering. It was passable.

  “Yes, I ate earlier. I can whip something up if you’re hungry though.”

  The look on his face as he started to stand was full of something she couldn’t name. As she moved to pass him and unlock the door he spun her on the step backing her against the wall and railing, nailing her with a hard probing kiss as her ass met plaster behind her. His cologne, mingled with the scent of him, filled her senses and she was suddenly drowning in dark spice, fresh air and heady kisses.

  She was breathless when he let go. Thankfully, she had seized the rail on contact or she would have been eight steps down on the landing. The man could kiss!

  He chuckled as he stroked her face and shoulder before reaching down to loosen her death grip on the wooden life vest she’d claimed. Not only could he kiss, but he knew the effect his kisses had on her. She nearly missed his ‘I’d like that’ response vacillating now over the wisdom of the decision to let him in again. The man was lethal.

  He had liberated her keys from her and unlocked the door, letting her in to her own apartment. In her mind she was teetering on a slippery slope. A very slippery slope, which she would luge straight down into submission if she weren’t careful without the benefit of a sled or the safety equipment.

  Thorne snared her again as she set her purse down and turned for the kitchen. She was caught in a full body press that left no question about the state he was in. The raised, hard ridge pressing against her hip through his trousers was not a concealed weapon, not by traditional definitions anyway. It was definitely a weapon though she reminded herself.

  He was full of gentlemanly grace as he released her lip from his teeth, turned her loose with a swat on her left ass cheek and moved into step beside her toward the kitchen. It was perplexing on multiple levels. He moved and spoke as though nothing had happened while she was still disoriented and a bit dizzy from the quick turn nearly missing his question.

  “Are you sure you won’t join me?”

  Maggie debated the dual meaning of the question as she moved around him toward the refrigerator. Thinking she needed to be clear, she answered over her shoulder, watching him watch her.

  “I may have a little something. I’ve got chicken and rice, some vegetable soup or beef stir fry. Anything else we need to start from scratch.”

  Whatever he was thinking was hidden behind a blank mask. She stood and turned to face him waiting for an answer. She resisted the urge to list the choices again when he didn’t reply but only stared at her. Whatever the hesitation he finally responded, “Stir fry sounds good.”

  She turned and grabbed it. The room was saturated with ‘what ifs’ as she started re-prepping the stir fry over the stove under his watchful gaze. Microwaving would have been faster, but she didn’t like the way the beef turned rubbery. She doubted he would either. She handed him the table settings between steps and bit down a laugh at his grimace as she put him to work.

  If anything would answer the dual entendre of his earlier question, asking him to help might. She looked over when he didn’t return, finding him inspecting her bookshelf. The table had been set but he had not come back for additional instructions. She managed not to giggle but did let a wide smile break out.

  She tossed the rice in with the entre in lieu of starting fresh or reheating separately and grabbed a bag of cut vegetables and dip from the fridge. She cleared her throat when everything was on the table making the mistake in her words.

  “Can I distract you?”

  She caught it and tried to cover, “with dinner before it gets cold again?” but he’d caught the slip. His grin said he’d chosen the meaning that suited him.

  Snacking on the veggies and dip, she motioned for him to take what he wished from the pan. He plated hers first. When he moved toward her plate with a second spoonful she declined, hands up with celery directing traffic.

  “No, that’s plenty. I’ve eaten already tonight. Go ahead.”

  He moved the spoon toward his plate, adding another before setting it down.

  “As you wish.”

  They ate in relative quiet. His approval was auditory but not verbal and reinforced by a third spoonful when the plate was clear. He asked as he served himself, “Your cooking, or...”

  He let the question hand open. Maggie smiled after getting her bite down.

  “Yes, my cooking.”

  “You really don’t eat out much.”

  It was more statement than question, but sounded like a question so she responded.

  “No. I really don’t. Don’t need to for one. It’s quite the money pit to do second, and I know what I’m getting this way third. No surprises when you do it yourself.”

  He nodded through her points though she didn’t guess one way or the other from or for agreement.

  “I didn’t notice any cookbooks.”

  She pointed to his plate with another stalk of celery.

  “Are you suggesting I need them?”

  He snorted.

  “I didn’t say that at all. If no cookbooks, where’d you learn? You seem to be very capable.”

  “My mother taught me. Insisted I learn actually. Once Jacob was born, I was no longer my father’s ‘son’” she made air quotes “thus, she said I had no excuse.”

  Thorne nodded.

  “Well that explains that.”

  “Which part?”

  “The cooking, the independence, the stubborn streak, you choose.”

  Maggie’s mouth dropped open in mock indignance.

  “I do not...”

  Thorne laughed as he scooped the last bite from his plate.

  “You do. I imagine you were quite a handful and give your mother grey hair even now.”

  Maggie smiled softly, took a deep breath in and let it out before replying, “She’s
gone.”

  Thorne set his fork down.

  “Maggie I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

  Maggie wagged a carrot stick in the air.

  “It’s fine. She is gone though and that’s fine too.”

  Thorne fumbled then.

  “And your father?”

  Maggie shook her head. “Also gone.”

  Thorne blew out a hard exhale.

  “Your brother John?”

  Maggie giggled, ‘Jacob.”

  “Right-right, Jacob.”

  “He’s gone too.”

  Thorne rubbed his eyebrows, mashed his eyes tight shaking his head back and forth exhaling hard.

  “Good lord Maggie I’m sorry. I’ve really stepped in it huh?”

  Maggie laid her hand atop his on the table smiling softly. She ignored the jolt at the contact.

  “It’s fine Thorne. There was no way you could have known. Really, it’s fine. They are all together and I’ve long since made my peace.”

  “Do you want to talk about them?”

  Maggie dissented. “No. Not really.”

  “How do you survive?”

  Maggie let out a loud guffaw. There were so many levels to that question. She opted for light-hearted, pointing her carrot stick back at herself.

  “Stubborn streak remember?”

  His smile returned.

  “Touché.”

  DINNER WAS CLEARED and everything put away before they moved to the sectional. Thorne had been quiet as they cleaned. He broke the silence with his apology.

  “I am sorry.”

  Maggie shot him a confused look ahead of a smile.

  “Don’t be. The end of each of their lives is the only bad memory, and there are far too many good ones to recall to dwell on their last moments.”

  Thorne shook his head and traced the line of her cheek.

  “You have no idea how amazing you are do you?”

  She knew he was serious, but she joked anyway.

  “Of course I do. I’m my father’s first son. I was born to be amazing.”

  Thorne rolled his eyes and grinned at her.

  “You’re succeeding in spite of yourself.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  He fingered the space on his chin below his lip in thought.

  “I do wish you’d join me. Have you thought about it?”

  Maggie wiped her lip with the back of her wrist. Somehow she had known this was going to come back up sooner or later.

  “I have.”

  Thorne’s eyes widened then narrowed. “And?”

  “And I don’t think that’s the path I want. It’s not the one I’m looking for.”

  Thorne channeled a quiz show, “Final answer?”

  Maggie laughed thinking she was quite clever to sneak in a reference to the question she wasn’t quite ready to ask yet.

  “Can I ask the audience?”

  Thorne mocked back his amusement obviously not catching her train of thought.

  “What?! No fifty-fifty? No phone a friend first? Jump right to a roomful of strangers for your decision?”

  They both laughed. Maggie jabbed a finger into his thigh.

  “You do remember you were a stranger once too right? Not that long ago as a matter of fact and yet here you are, eating my cooking and mocking my lifeline choices.”

  He held up both hands in mock surrender dropping them a moment later, “All right, all right, you win...for now.”

  Maggie nodded before the ‘for now’ came out, wagging her finger in the air to emphasize each word, “And don’t you forget it” wishing she’d waited when she spoke over him and caught what he had added.

  Thorne seized the finger pulling her toward him until they were inches apart before speaking again.

  “As if I could. You my dear are quite unforgettable.”

  Maggie could only blush and smile. Before she stopped and thought about it, she closed the couple inches getting nose to nose with him looking unblinkingly into his eyes as she spoke.

  “And you are quite dangerous.”

  Her nose tingled from the reverberation as he growled before replying.

  “Maggie my sweet, you have no idea.”

  Before she could react or withdraw he seized her lips in a kiss and brought his hand up behind her head to hold her in place. Her lip ached where he caught it between his teeth before he suckled the sting away. His kisses weren’t demanding they were addicting, as though she couldn’t breathe without his lips on hers. She open-mouth gasped when he caught her top lip with his teeth, seizing the opportunity to dart his tongue in and search for hers. He opened her mouth wider with the pressure of his lips as he teased her. Maggie was lost.

  Thorne broke the lip lock for a quick moment, shifting her onto his lap before reclaiming her mouth with more mind-numbing kisses. The hand from behind her head was gone. It had migrated to her hips and was working with its partner pulling her closer as he devoured her mouth. If Maggie had a thought about any of it, it had abandoned ship after running up the white flag.

  Her head dropped back as he trailed his mouth down her jaw, along her neck and just inside the collar of her shirt. It took her a long moment to comprehend that he was speaking between lingering kisses.

  “Huh?” was all that came out intelligible.

  He chuckled and repeated between suckling.

  “I said I’m still waiting on that final answer.”

  Maggie had to blink several times to get her brain online. She brought her head back level and waited for him to look before answering.

  “I can’t give you that. It’s not where I think I’m going.”

  He was undaunted.

  “And if you change your mind one day?”

  Without a second thought Maggie stated easily, “If that day comes, I remember your claim and know how to find you.”

  His grin was territorial as he growled out on a hard nod.

  “Good girl.”

  Maggie wanted to giggle at his reaction but was caught in a different vortex. The bottom buttons of her blouse were undone and one of his hands was inside turning the tip of her breast into something that could likely cut glass. The hard ridge that had dented her hip earlier was planted firmly along the center seam of her trousers where she knew she was overwarm if not outright wet.

  He reclaimed her open mouth at her slack-jawed, wordless response to ‘good girl’ and was kissing her senseless. No one should be able to kiss like this was the only thought that registered. He was sliding the fabric of her blouse down her arms before she realized he’d finished unbuttoning it. She pulled back to watch it come off and looked back at him.

  His lips were swollen and shiny. A moment later he looked up to her face having watched the duck flesh following his fingers up her torso and down her arms. He had been muttering to himself, ‘so responsive’ before he saw her face and the lack of fight or flight. He trailed a hand down her face, pulling her in for a kiss before letting her back just enough to see her eyes flash as he spoke.

  “I think you need to make a fully informed choice in this matter.”

  Her mouth dropped open to speak. He stilled the words with a finger gently laid across her lips.

  “No strings. No hidden commitments or contracts, just a ‘sample’. How can you know you don’t want it if you don’t know what it is?”

  A look of confusion crossed her face as she blinked. He had a point. The length of him pressing against her tender flesh was making a point too, and not a bad point to be made either. Maggie wanted to speak, but had no idea what she was supposed to say. Her mouth hinged and unhinged in effort, but words failed her.

  She wanted to know, but she was scared to know. She wanted to display the calm, cool decision maker she thought she was becoming, that Margaret was nowhere in the room. She tortured herself flip-flopping between being more afraid to know or not know and how to decide either way.

  Thorne took her chin gently and brushed several soft kisses across her mouth
before setting his hands on the seat by his side.

  “You decide. My hands are off and I will not influence your choice at this point. Any word other than “No” and you are mine tonight. Do you understand? Shake your head if you understand.”

  Maggie shook her head. Her mind hummed as she looked him up and down. She then had to stop looking at him looking at her to be able to think straight at all. Back and forth she flipped, yes – no, no – yes, what to do? She couldn’t decide. She closed her eyes to not look at him because seeing him was him influencing her. They snapped open as she decided,

  “I...”

  He growled looking up as she spoke, cutting her short.

  “Done.”

  ‘Take me to church...’

  Maggie’s hand came up to her throat as she realized she had in fact said anything but ‘no’. Thorne stood, lifting her as he did. Maggie couldn’t for the life of her remember what the actual decision had even been as he carried her easily and moved toward her bedroom.

  He deposited her on her feet between the bed and wardrobes before he stepped back looking her up and down. For being over warm, Maggie had goose bumps on top of goose bumps as he walked a circle around where she stood without speaking. He stopped where he started before he uttered a word.

  “There are five things you may say to me now. As you are a driver you should understand the meanings easily. You may say red light, yellow light, green light or yes. The word ‘no’ is no longer an option but you may choose a word to mean ‘full stop’ if red light is odd to remember to say. Do you understand?”

  Maggie, still unable to find her voice nodded. Thorne frowned.

  “No, you must speak to me so I know that you have processed the question and your response. Do you understand?”

  Maggie had to clear her throat twice before she could squeak out, “Yes.”

  The frown went away.

  “Good girl. You may say only the color also if that’s easier. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded his approval first.

  “Very good. Do you have a word you would like for your fifth thing?”

  “Red light will be okay.”