With the Lights On

by Jackie Ashenden

  Perhaps she was right. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all. Perhaps we needed to end this now, before we didn’t have the strength to do so.

  It took everything I had but I managed, forcing myself to lift my head, to take my mouth from hers. Her head was cradled in my palms, the light shining in her face. And I could see the bright seams of gold in her dark eyes, the flush of heat in her cheeks. Her mouth was full and red and slick from my kiss, and everything in me was urging me to cover it again, taste her again.

  But I didn’t.

  Instead I made myself release her. ‘Okay,’ I said, my voice little more than a growl. ‘Have it your way. Maybe it is better if you go.’ I stepped back, putting some distance between us. ‘Goodbye, Honey.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Magdalen

  I STRUGGLED TO process what was happening. One minute I’d been drowning in pleasure and heat, his hands cradling me so gently, his mouth on mine kissing me with such devastating skill that I couldn’t even remember why I was supposed to be refusing this. Then the next minute he was gone, the warm strength of him withdrawn, leaving my entire body flushed with heat, my mouth throbbing, seared from the effects of his kiss.

  I’d always thought that talking of a kiss making your knees weak was being overly dramatic. Apparently it was not.

  Trajan’s face had been wiped clean of expression, yet nothing could disguise the burning blue of his eyes. He looked like a man with a fire inside him, blazing hot and bright while he fought to keep it contained.

  God, all of that was for me, wasn’t it?

  He was burning for me.

  I swallowed the taste of him, a dark, decadent flavour like cocoa-rich chocolate mixed with expensive brandy lingering in my mouth. I could still feel his palms against my cheeks, the press of his fingers against the back of my head, his lips on mine...

  I didn’t do a lot of kissing. Sometimes clients wanted it, and naturally I gave them what they wanted, but I didn’t like it. With a lot of men, the kiss ended up being wet and unpleasant, so I usually tried to avoid it. And when I couldn’t avoid it I usually ended up being the one in charge, showing them what to do to make it good for both of us.

  But I hadn’t needed to do that with Trajan. And I hadn’t realised how good a kiss could be from someone I wanted and who knew what they were doing.

  Your first kiss...

  The thought wound dizzily through my head as I tried not to sag against the window behind me, my breathing fast and hard.

  My first kiss from someone I wanted. My first kiss from someone who wanted me... Except he’d stopped. He’d let me go and he’d put some distance between us, and now I was the one struggling to process the fact that he’d told me to leave.

  Desperately, I pulled myself together, smoothing my dress with shaking hands, my brain concentrating on inanities such as how I’d have to redo my lipstick, because no doubt that kiss had smudged it all to hell, and how I’d probably need to do something with my hair too, since he’d had his fingers all through it.

  Anything to distract from the aching pressure in my chest that shouldn’t be there in the first place. I couldn’t think what I’d been hoping for when I’d refused him again, or why I’d made it sound as if I was hoping he’d offer me something, because it wasn’t as if I wanted a relationship or anything. We might have revealed secrets to each other that we’d never told another person, but we were still essentially strangers. I didn’t even know his real name and he didn’t know mine. And besides, how could I have anything more with anyone, given my job and the necessity behind it?

  No, a relationship was out of the question, and I knew that. So why I’d felt a ripple of hurt go through me at his silence, I had no idea. Even if he’d suggested we keep seeing each other, I would have refused. I simply wasn’t at a place in my life where I had room for anything more.

  ‘Okay,’ I said, my voice gone thick and husky. ‘Okay, then.’ I smoothed my dress yet again, everything inside me chaos, and looked blankly around the room, though for what I had no idea. I just didn’t want to look at him. ‘Well... I guess this is it, then.’

  He stood in front of me, his face an expressionless mask. Yet his hands had curled into fists, the cotton of his T-shirt pulling tight over his broad chest in time with his quickened breathing.

  The fire inside him was burning higher. If I put my hands out towards him, I would probably feel its heat against my palms.

  Don’t look at him. Don’t look into his eyes.

  I dragged my gaze away, my heart shuddering in my chest. This was such a bad move. I shouldn’t have come back. I should have refused the booking. It would have made things so much easier on both of us. We would simply not have seen each other ever again, and eventually the two months we’d had together would have faded from our minds.

  ‘Yes.’ His voice was a harsh scrape of sound. ‘Get out, Honey. Now.’

  ‘Okay,’ I repeated for the second time. ‘I’m going.’ Yet I didn’t move. I stood there, rooted to the spot, a strange pressure gathering in the air between us.

  ‘Honey...’

  God help me... I looked at him, the impact of his gaze clashing with mine echoing throughout my entire body, setting every cell vibrating.

  He’s right. Get out now. This can only end badly for both of you.

  It was true. Staying wasn’t the answer. Because if I stayed there was only one thing that would happen and, even though I wanted it more than I wanted my next breath, it would be a disaster. How could I go back to my job after I’d been with Trajan? How could I convincingly look at another man as if I wanted him? As if I were desperate for his touch? As if he were important to me? How could I give myself to someone else when there was only one man I wanted?

  You can pretend. Isn’t that what your entire job is based on?

  It was a dangerous thought. Because, yes, it was true. The whole of my job was pretence. Being someone I wasn’t for someone else, pretending I wanted them, pretending I liked being with them. Pretending they were handsome, that they were the most interesting and complicated man in the universe.

  God, what would it be like to have one night where all of it was real? Where I was with someone I wanted for a change? Just one night...

  ‘Honey,’ he growled again, demanding this time, blue fire leaping in his eyes.

  Still I didn’t move and I didn’t look away.

  And I watched as something inside him snapped and he moved, no hesitating, no uncertainty. He closed the distance between us and he didn’t stop. And then I was being pushed up against the glass as he caged me with his body, his forearms pressed to the window on either side of my head, the hard length of his body on mine. He ducked his head, his mouth against the side of my neck just below my ear. ‘You should have left,’ he said in a raw, gravelly voice. ‘Why didn’t you?’

  I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back against the glass, my entire body alive and aware of the feel of him against me, of his heat, the fresh salty scent of pine undercut with the warmer, darker spice of male arousal.

  His breath was hot against my neck, the brush of his lips on my skin making me shiver. Words formed in my head, only to fracture and scatter as his teeth found the sensitive tendons on the side of my neck and bit down.

  ‘Why did you kiss me?’ My breath was coming in short, hard pants. ‘You shouldn’t have.’

  ‘No, I shouldn’t.’ His mouth moved down to the place where my neck met my shoulder, another piercingly sensitive spot, nuzzling gently. ‘But I did. Because I wanted to. Just like I want to do this.’ Then he bit down again, slightly harder this time, sending an electric burst of pleasure that arrowed straight between my thighs.

  I gasped, my entire body shuddering, and I reached for him, my hands settling on his hips. He made a low, raw sound and I felt a shiver of tension course through the hard, hot body pressing against mine.r />
  This was insane. How had we got to this so quickly? How had everything ignited with so much heat and so fast? I felt as if I was burning up, as if I was dying of thirst, dying of hunger, just dying...

  ‘Trajan...’ His name escaped on a soft groan as he bit me yet again, his teeth a gentle, insistent pressure at that sensitive place on my neck.

  ‘Don’t say no to me.’ There was the soft brush of his mouth along my collarbone, goose bumps everywhere, and then heat at the base of my throat, the press of his lips there. ‘I want this with you. Let me have it. Let us both have it.’

  The reasons I’d had for refusing were still there and my situation hadn’t changed. It was still a bad idea. And yet, the more his mouth travelled over my skin, the less those reasons mattered.

  I couldn’t think now why it would be so terrible to have this. Sex was a job for me, never a pleasure, and I was always giving other people what they wanted. Why couldn’t I have what I wanted for a change? Why did I always have to deny myself?

  I never got to have anything I wanted. My life was all about endlessly fulfilling someone else’s needs. My grandmother’s, as she began the long slide into dementia. My mother’s, as she demanded a response to the letters she sent me from prison. The clients and their demands, which were never onerous and yet took something from me every time.

  All wells ran dry eventually, and the water in mine barely covered the bottom these days. And I was tired. Tired of looking after people. Tired of making decisions for people. Tired of being someone I wasn’t. Honey was great, but being her was exhausting. And there were times when I wanted someone who knew me, and knew what I liked, just to...take charge. To handle all the crap I had to do myself, to look after me so that I didn’t have to. Someone I didn’t have to be Honey with.

  There was only one person who could give me all of that.

  Him.

  My hands squeezed convulsively on his hips as he pressed burning kisses to my throat, the long, hard ridge of his cock nudging between my thighs. I wanted to rock against him, to ease the ache inside me, the unbearable pressure. It had been a long time since I’d felt this turned on, a long time since another person had given me pleasure.

  ‘Yes,’ I said thickly as his mouth travelled back up the side of my neck, nuzzling beneath my ear again. ‘Yes, okay. But...’ I took a shaky breath. ‘I want this to be real.’

  He went still then slowly lifted his head, the flame in his eyes flickering like lightning. He stared at me fiercely, as though he was trying to see inside my head. ‘Real? What do you mean real?’

  ‘Sex is always a transaction for me. I’m never myself when I have it because the clients want Honey, not me. And I’m...tired of being Honey, Trajan. I don’t want to be her tonight.’

  He shifted, cupping my face in his big, warm palms, turning it up towards the light, his deep-blue eyes narrowing as he studied me.

  My heart beat even faster, even harder. I could have pushed him away if I’d wanted. One shove and he’d let me go; I was sure of it. But...he was so warm. And the way he held my face was so gentle, even as he towered over me, making me feel so very small and feminine and delicate. It was intoxicating.

  ‘I’m not asking you to be,’ he murmured, the rough, warm timbre of his voice hitting me like sunshine on a cold winter’s day. ‘I want the woman you are with me, not the woman you are with your other clients.’

  Me. He wanted me. Maggie, not Honey.

  I leaned into his hands, into his strength, staring up into his eyes. ‘In that case... Honey isn’t my name,’ I whispered. ‘My name is Maggie.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Trajan

  SHE STOOD BENEATH the spotlight, her eyes wide and dark, looking up into mine. She was all flushed cheeks and red mouth, the scent of her skin in the air along with the sweet, feminine musk of an aroused woman.

  Maggie. Her name was Maggie.

  A strange, heavy feeling gathered in my chest, as if I’d been given a precious gift I didn’t deserve. Because that was what it was. She wasn’t supposed to tell me her real name and yet she had, offering it up to me without hesitation.

  I want this to be real...

  Hell, I could understand that. Nothing she had with anyone was real except the pleasure she gave to her clients, and if she got any pleasure in return it wasn’t from anyone doing something real for her. No, they wanted Honey, which meant she had to get that pleasure alone.

  ‘Hi, Maggie.’ I drank my fill of her lovely face, watching heat shift in her eyes as I said her name. ‘I like it. It’s beautiful.’

  She flushed. ‘It’s short for Magdalen.’

  ‘I like that too.’ And I did. I meant every word.

  Her cheeks were rosy and I wished I could see how far down the flush went, but the rest of her was nothing but a dark blur. I could feel it, though, the shape of her against me, as small as I’d thought and deliciously curvy. I could feel the soft give of her breasts against my chest, the press of her rounded hips and thighs against mine.

  I shifted, lifting my forearms from the window and trailing my fingers down her sides, following the outline of her body, the graceful indent of her waist and the flare of those hips.

  She shivered under my touch, her gaze drifting to my mouth. I should give her something in return. She’d wanted real and so she’d given me her real name, but I couldn’t return the favour. Not when she’d had my real name all along. But I could let her know that at least.

  ‘My name is Trajan,’ I said, stroking back up her glorious figure.

  ‘Trajan... But...’ Her silky golden brows drew together. ‘You mean that’s your real name?’

  ‘Yes.’ I gave her a faint smile. ‘I wasn’t supposed to say it, but when I met you, you basically left me unable to think of anything else.’

  She blinked. ‘So...all this time I’ve had your real name?’

  ‘You have.’ I settled my hands on her sides, just below her breasts, my thumbs tracing the soft underside of them through the material of her dress. It felt like silk and it seemed to be close fitting; all I wanted to do in that moment was to strip it from her body so I could get at the warm skin beneath it.

  Her breath caught as I stroked her, her back arching slightly, lifting her breasts against my chest. I could feel the hard little points of her nipples through the cotton of my T-shirt, and just like that the desperation was back.

  I bent my head to her throat again, nuzzling the fragile dips and hollows of her collar bone, touching my tongue to her skin, tasting sweetness. ‘How do you want this?’ My voice had roughened and become even deeper. ‘What does real mean for you?’

  ‘I don’t know, I just...don’t want to pretend tonight. I want to feel as if...’ She trailed off.

  I lifted my head and looked into her face, angling so I wasn’t blocking the light from above, so I could see. ‘As if what?’

  Emotion shifted in her eyes, deep currents of it, so complicated I couldn’t tell what they were. ‘I want to feel as if you haven’t paid me for the night. As if I was someone you met in a bar, someone you wanted, and so you flirted with me. Seduced me. Not...picked me out of a catalogue.’

  I touched her face gently, watching those deep currents. ‘Has anyone ever seduced you, sweetheart?’ Even as I asked the question, I thought I knew the answer already. So when she shook her head I wasn’t surprised.

  ‘No.’ The word was husky. ‘I haven’t ever been out on a date even.’

  But that...that did surprise me.

  I frowned. ‘Not even one?’

  The flush in her cheeks deepened. ‘I don’t meet people, not these days. Dating is difficult with my job being what it is. And before... Well, I wasn’t exactly a hot-date ticket.’

  She’d told me about her childhood, about how her grandmother’s indifference had led to crippling shyness that had blighted her teenage years
. She’d retreated into books and study, which had only alienated her even more from her peers.

  She reminded me so much of myself at that age that it was almost painful. Except my father’s relentless insistence on success, and his absolute refusal even to acknowledge failure, hadn’t made me retreat into shyness. No, I’d become arrogant instead, not to mention over-confident. I’d had no insecurities, and I’d been certain of my own abilities because I was good at everything I attempted. I’d excelled academically and at sports—the two things my father valued highly—and, as far as I was concerned, my future as his heir in the company he’d founded had been assured.

  And look what happened.

  Oh, yeah, I knew all too well what had happened.

  As soon as I’d turned out to be not as perfect as my father had expected, he’d dropped me without a single word. Of course, I’d proved him wrong in the years since then, but even so I hadn’t forgotten his abandonment. I hadn’t forgiven him, either.

  Caring too much—that had been the problem. Wanting too much, expecting too much, too. So these days I didn’t allow myself to care, and I definitely shouldn’t care about wanting this night with Maggie.

  Then again, this wasn’t emotional; this was physical. Plus, I was older, wiser. I wasn’t seventeen any more. I was in control of myself and I sure as hell wouldn’t let it become anything deeper.

  One night of being real worked for me, because it was only that—one night. In one night I could have her and then move on.

  ‘Okay,’ I said, and released her.

  Surprised, she stared at me. ‘What are you...?’

  ‘We’ve been out,’ I said. ‘I took you to dinner and we enjoyed it and now we’re back at my place. And I’m going to offer you a drink.’

  The colour ebbed and flowed in her cheeks, and then, clearly understanding what I was going for, she said, ‘Oh... Oh, okay. Uh...yes, I think I would like a drink.’ Her hands flicked to her hair, touching her curls in an adorably self-conscious way, clearly playing along. Which definitely wasn’t Honey.