Midnight Fantasies

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

Maybe, at long last, he’d found his dream girl. And she wouldn’t allow him to really know her. Still, there had to be a way. He wouldn’t let her detour him forever, and he didn’t believe she’d call the sheriff on him. Besides, he knew the sheriff, whereas she was a stranger in town.

  “I want you to enjoy all sorts of different sensations tonight,” she said. Then she brushed something feathery over his mouth and down his throat.

  His nerve endings began to sing in response. She trailed the softness over his nipples and they tingled in a way he never remembered before. As he breathed in the scent that he would always associate with her, she brushed lightly over his rib cage, drawing ever closer to his primary focus. The sound of the rain blended with the sensuous notes of the saxophone.

  When she drew the feathers over his briefs he gripped a handful of sheet in both hands. She teased the inside of his thighs, and he’d never realized how sensitive he was there. Maybe it was the prolonged foreplay that had caused every square inch of his body to become an erogenous zone.

  “Don’t tickle my feet,” he warned. “I can’t take that.”

  “I know,” she murmured.

  “You do? How did you know that?”

  “Uh…I guessed. Most people—”

  “Wait. You said you knew. Have you been asking questions about me?”

  She paused. “You have a lot of former girlfriends around here.”

  “You talked to them? What did they say?”

  “Well—”

  “No, don’t tell me. Sarah, listen. Maybe I haven’t been into commitment before, but I’ve never met anyone like you. If you talked to my girlfriends you probably think you could never trust me with your shy nature. You think I’d hurt you in the end. But I—” He felt her fingers at the waistband of his briefs and his brain stalled. He tried to remember what he’d been saying. “You can trust me, because—”

  “Lift your hips, Jonas.”

  Whatever he’d meant to say lodged in his throat. The moment was here. He did as she asked and she pulled the briefs down over his knees, over his ankles, over his feet.

  She drew in a quick breath. “Will you look at that bad boy,” she murmured.

  He was gratified by her response. Typical man that he was, he loved her admiration. But more than that, he wanted her trust, and that was new for him. He’d never worried about gaining a woman’s trust. It hadn’t mattered before.

  Then she used that feathery thing, stroking him until he was gasping from breath.

  “You’re beautiful,” she said softly.

  “I’m desperate.”

  “Want me to stop?”

  “Just…give me a moment.” He clenched his jaw and fought the urge to come. The rain pouring down outside didn’t help matters.

  The mattress shifted and she left the bed. Rustling sounds drifted to him, and then she was back, looping something soft around his wrist. She snugged it up.

  He wasn’t so sure about this. “What are you doing?”

  “Tell me you’ve never imagined this.” In seconds she’d immobilized his arm.

  His heartbeat thudded in his ears. He tested the velvet rope and decided if necessary he could break it. And he had fantasized about something like this, although he’d never acted it out with anyone.

  When his other wrist was tied, his throat grew dry with excitement. “How do I know that I can trust you?”

  “Use your instincts.” She leaned over him, her breasts swaying against his chest as she dropped a kiss on his mouth.

  “I dare you to do that again.”

  “Later.” She moved away and circled his ankle with another velvet rope. “Do your instincts tell you to be afraid?”

  “No. My instincts tell me…this is crazy…they tell me I’ve known you all my life.”

  She grew still. “But you haven’t.”

  “Maybe I have, in my mind. Maybe you’re the woman I’ve been looking for. I’ve been surrounded by cowgirls, ranching women. None of them captured my imagination like you have, Sarah. Maybe I just needed to meet this sensuous artist, a shy woman who molds nude statues and lives an unbelievable fantasy life.”

  She tied his other ankle. “I’m not the one for you.” Her voice sounded funny, sort of choked up.

  “Don’t say that. Don’t give up so quick. Don’t—oh, Lord.” He lost his train of thought as she began to rub his leg with a slippery piece of material. Silk, he decided, just like his blindfold, and it created the most amazingly erotic friction. And as she rubbed, she began to suck his toes. One by one. And the rain kept coming down.

  “Sarah…Sarah, stop.”

  She paused. “Too much?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He pulled against his restraints while he struggled not to erupt. “It’s almost as if you’re sucking on my…”

  “That’s the idea.” She dragged the scarf gently up his thigh and looped it around his penis. “Would you like the real thing?”

  It was all he could think about. And yet she might finish him off in no time, and this wonderful event would be over.

  “You’re afraid you won’t last.” She drew the silk back and forth slowly.

  He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold as the lazy movement of the silk teased him right to the brink. “Yep.”

  “Maybe I can cool you down a little.”

  He couldn’t imagine an ice-water bath would work on an erection this determined. Then with a whoosh of sound, something soft and cool nestled over the tip of his penis. He cried out in surprise.

  Then he recognized the sweet aroma of whipped cream and nearly passed out from eagerness. But he’d never make it through that. “You’re going to…lick it off?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Sarah, it’ll be over then.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Her wet, warm tongue swiped away a layer of the whipped cream.

  The rain came down harder as he felt his orgasm building. “Stop, please…stop. I brought…a condom. I want to make love to…” He gasped as her tongue lapped away at his straining penis. “Please…let me…”

  “Tomorrow night,” she murmured. Then she stopped licking and took his penis smoothly into her mouth. The rain nearly drowned out the sound of the saxophone.

  She sucked once, and he had the climax of a lifetime, a climax that lifted him off the bed and ran like wildfire through his whole body, a climax that made him pull against the velvet ropes and yell like a man gone crazy. Which he had. Completely. He would do anything for this mystery woman. Anything in the world. He would wear a blindfold forever, as long as she allowed him to return to her mind-shattering world of sexual fantasy.

  CHAPTER SIX

  B.J. UNTIED JONAS’S restraints as he lay panting and glistening with sweat. His reaction told her all she needed to know. She’d given him an experience he would never forget.

  As she gazed at him sprawled on the flowered sheets looking totally wiped out, a rush of tenderness took her by surprise. Maybe it was wrong of her to fool him this way. From the way he was acting, he was getting emotionally involved with the woman he thought her to be.

  Then she remembered his remark about “cowgirls who didn’t hold his interest,” and her sympathy vanished. Her desire for him, however, did not. She knew she was taking quite a chance stretching this fantasy to another night, but she couldn’t bear to think of ending it now. She had more ideas to try, and before this was over she wanted to know what it would be like to have Jonas deep inside her.

  When his breathing slowed she handed him his clothes. “I need you to leave now,” she murmured.

  “I wish…” His chest heaved. “I wish you’d let me stay.”

  “I can’t do that. The longer you stay, the more you’re going to be tempted to take off that blindfold.”

  “Yeah.” He took another shaky breath. “Are you sure you couldn’t do without it?”

  “I’m sure. If you can’t deal with the blindfold, then we can forget—”

  “No! I’ll wear the
blindfold.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll wear it.”

  “And you have to promise not to bug me about this blindfold business.”

  “I promise.” He sat up and began putting on his clothes. “Sarah, that was…spectacular.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “But I don’t feel as if you had your share.” He stood and pulled up his jeans.

  “We can worry about that tomorrow night.”

  He nodded as he buckled his belt. “Tomorrow night. Yeah.” He hesitated. “Thank you for giving me that.”

  Once again his vulnerability tugged at her heart. “I want another night, too,” she said softly.

  “You do?” He glanced in her direction, even though he couldn’t see her. “That’s nice to hear.”

  “You turn me on, Jonas.” You always have.

  “I think it’s obvious that you turn me on, too, Sarah. In fact, if I could stay a little longer, I’d probably recover enough to—”

  “It’s better if you go now.” She handed him his socks and his boots.

  “Maybe so.” He sat down on the bed to put on his socks. “You’re right. The longer I’m with you, the more I want to see your face. Is it that you don’t think you’re attractive?”

  “I’m passable. My face wouldn’t frighten little children.”

  “I’m sure you’re pretty.” He put on his boots. “In fact, I’m very sure of it. But even if you weren’t, I’d think you were beautiful because of the way you made love to me tonight. A man doesn’t need conventional beauty when a woman gives of herself the way you did.”

  “Time for you to leave, anyway, Jonas.” She took his hand. “I’ll lead you to the front door.”

  He stood and followed her, but at the door to the bedroom he stopped and inhaled deeply. “I love the way this room smells.”

  “It’s vanilla.”

  “It’s more than vanilla. It’s you, it’s me, it’s the smell of good, healthy sex.”

  Much more of that kind of talk and she’d lead him right back into that bedroom. “Let’s go.”

  He sighed and followed her down the hall.

  The closer they came to the door, the less she wanted him to leave, but she had a lot to take care of before she could go home. “What will you do now?” she asked.

  “You mean after I leave here?”

  “Yes.” She needed to know, so that she could avoid him if at all possible.

  “I’ll probably drive around a while. The rain’s stopped, and I love the desert after a rain. Want to come with me?”

  More than he knew. She’d love to ride through the warm, rain-drenched night with Jonas. They could find a secluded place to park and pick up where they’d left off. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “I thought it was worth a try.”

  She placed his hand on the doorknob. “Go on out to the porch, now. Leave the blindfold where you found it.”

  He rested his hand on the doorknob. “Just one thing before I go.”

  “What?”

  His other arm slipped quickly around her. “This.” He brought her in tight and unerringly found her mouth with his. The kiss was deep, hot and wet. But more than that, it was possessive. Extremely possessive. It left her gasping. “See you tomorrow night,” he murmured, releasing her. Then he opened the door and stepped outside.

  In seconds, she was alone.

  She stood with her hand to her mouth long after the sound of his truck died away. For the entire evening she’d convinced herself that she was in control, that she’d stay in control. Jonas had seemed so eager to continue their relationship that she hadn’t expected any aggressive behavior on his part.

  Then he’d kissed her the way a man kisses a woman when he’s staked a claim. And suddenly she wasn’t so sure that she could control Jonas, after all.

  NORMALLY JONAS WASN’T MUCH for gossip. Too often the stories were about him, anyway. But he hadn’t lived in Saguaro Junction all his life for nothing, and when he needed to find out something, he knew where to go.

  The next morning he told Lupita he needed to put gas in his truck and he’d pick up breakfast at the Cactus Café before he came home. Less than a half hour later, he was sitting on a stool at the only eating spot in Saguaro Junction, a mug of coffee in front of him and his order for steak and eggs on the griddle. The morning waitress, Sue Ellen, was usually good for some information, but his luck was running today because Henry from the hardware store was having his breakfast at the café this morning, too. Henry knew everyone and everything that went on in this town.

  “How’s it going, Henry?” Jonas asked after he took his first sip of coffee.

  “Can’t complain.” Henry poured a generous amount of syrup on his pancakes. “How about you?”

  “Glad to get the rain.” Jonas had grown up learning the rhythm of these conversations. The weather had to come first, to establish that comfortable common ground.

  “Yeah, we really needed that rain,” Henry said.

  “Is the family doing okay?”

  “Oh, Shirley still has that problem with her back, but I’m sure it doesn’t help that she’s always carrying those grandchildren of ours around when they come to visit.”

  Jonas knew that was his cue to ask to see current pictures, which he did. And they were cute little tykes, two boys and a girl. Jonas felt sorry that his own father hadn’t lived long enough to have grandchildren, because they were obviously the highlight of Henry’s life.

  Sue Ellen had delivered Jonas’s steak and eggs and topped off his coffee before he finally got around to the main reason for his visit to the café. “Say, Henry, do you think old man Hawthorne ever plans to sell that little place he owns?”

  Henry swallowed another bite of his pancakes. “Last I heard he didn’t think the market was right, yet. Why, you interested?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, he’s got a renter in there, so I doubt he’d sell it out from under her. Real nice woman. A sculptor.”

  Jonas concentrated on cutting off a piece of steak so he wouldn’t give anything away by his expression. “I think I heard something about that. Do you know her?”

  Henry started to laugh. “Okay, I know what this is about. You heard there was a new single woman in town, didn’t you?”

  Jonas managed a sly grin. “You caught me, Henry.”

  “I swear, boy, you’re going to wear yourself out before your thirtieth birthday. But somehow I don’t see you dating Sarah. She doesn’t seem at all your type.”

  That’s what you know. “Really? Why’s that?”

  “Well, first off, she’s…well, let’s just say she has a very generous figure.”

  “Are you saying she’s overweight?” Jonas tried to reconcile what Henry was saying with the woman he’d kissed the night before. Sarah had felt sensual, soft and willing in his arms. Had he been so delirious that he hadn’t noticed she was on the chubby side?

  Henry took a swallow of his coffee. “Technically, I guess so. But she’s such a nice lady that I don’t like slapping that label on her. But her weight isn’t the only thing that doesn’t seem to go with your taste in women.”

  “Oh?” Jonas had completely abandoned his meal as he turned to stare at Henry. “What else?”

  “I’ve never known you to take up with older women.”

  Jonas thought about that. Sarah might be older than he was. Her skin was smooth, but some women maintained that kind of skin well into their forties. Maybe that was her hang-up. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. If she was past childbearing age, that would be significant.

  Significant? Had he really started thinking in terms of marriage and kids? He didn’t even know the woman’s last name. Oh, but he knew her fantasies, and that seemed more important than a last name that he’d probably try to convince her to change, anyway.

  He might as well get what information he could from Henry. If age was a stumbling block, he’d find a way around it. Maybe they could adopt. And modern science was doing some ama
zing things these days which allowed older women to have children, if they wanted to.

  Jonas picked up his mug of coffee. “How old do you think she is?” he asked in as casual a tone as he could manage, considering.

  “Hard to say exactly.”

  “Take a guess.”

  “Late fifties, early sixties.”

  Jonas spewed coffee all over his plate. No way he’d been making love to a grandmother. No way.

  “Goodness, boy.” Henry clapped him on the back. “Sorry to break it to you like that. Didn’t know you had your heart set on taking her out.”

  Jonas mopped the coffee from his face and cleaned up around his plate. “For some reason I thought she was…younger.”

  “Well, maybe I have it wrong.” Henry eyed his plate. “You sure did make a mess, there. Maybe you should order yourself a new breakfast.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not really that hungry.” He gazed at Henry. “Late fifties, you say?”

  “Why don’t you ask B.J.? She knows her.”

  “Maybe I’ll do that.” Like hell he would. He didn’t want B.J. to get even the slightest whiff of this. If Henry was right about the age thing and B.J. found out he’d been fooling around with someone old enough to be his mother, he’d never hear the end of it.

  Henry had to be wrong. Or maybe Sarah was on some special hormone program. Maybe she’d had cosmetic surgery all over. He needed some time to think about this. Age aside, it had been the best sex he’d ever had. He didn’t want to jump to any hasty conclusions just because of some silly prejudices he might be able to get rid of in no time.

  “Yeah, ask B.J.,” Henry said. “I think Sarah mentioned that B.J. was going to watch her place this week while she went back to New York for some gallery showing. And while you’re at it, ask B.J. what the heck she’s planning to do with all those vanilla candles she bought yesterday.”

  Jonas froze in place. Then his head began to buzz. He shook it, certain he’d misunderstood Henry.

  Henry’s voice seemed to be coming from far, far away. “Hey, are you okay? You must be getting sick. You look awful.”

  Jonas swallowed and slowly turned to look at Henry. The buzzing in his ears wouldn’t go away, but he had to straighten this out. “Did you say Sarah’s out of town?”