Moonstruck

by Julie Kenner

  She lifted a brow.

  “Trust me,” he said. “And I did it because a club is easier. I started with no food, just drinks. All I needed was solid music, decent alcohol and a fabulous dance floor.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, each new club has a kitchen with signature appetizers. It’s taken a while, but I’ve come a long way.” He pressed the button to chop the food, and she watched him, not willing to talk over the noise. When he released the button, he smiled at her. “Now I’m doing exactly what I want to do. In my business life, everything is perfect.”

  “And in your personal life?” she asked, then immediately wanted to kick herself.

  He paused his preparations, then shifted his body so he was looking at her straight-on. “Right now,” he said, in a voice that made her want to melt, “my personal life is pretty near perfect, too.”

  Since she wasn’t sure how to respond, Claire only smiled, then took a sip of her wine. At the moment, she thought, her personal life was pretty near perfect, too.

  Less than an hour later, her near-perfect personal life was supplemented by a near-perfect meal. She wasn’t at all sure how he’d managed it, but somehow he’d taken the various dregs from her kitchen and turned them into the most amazing pasta dish. “You’re either really good or I was really hungry.”

  “I’m really good,” he said, and from the way he was looking at her, Claire wasn’t at all sure that he was talking about the food.

  “Yeah,” she said, lacing heat into her voice, as well. “I’ve noticed.”

  “Claire,” he said, and that was all it took. Her name on his lips. The desire in his eyes. She couldn’t get enough of him. She was like an addict, and right then she was so very desperate for another hit of him.

  He took her hand and pulled her to her feet, then led her to the couch. “Dear God, you’re beautiful.”

  She felt her cheeks warm from the compliment, even though right then she wasn’t about praise. She wanted to feel him beneath her, this man who’d gotten into her head, into her life.

  He drew her into a kiss filled with so much promise that she thought she would drown in it. And it wasn’t just a kiss, but a full-body sensual assault, with his tongue teasing her ear, her neck. His hands caressing her breasts, sliding down over the yoga pants she’d tossed on. Everywhere making her tingle and itch with need until she couldn’t take the sweet torment any longer. “Touch me,” she begged. “Touch me now.”

  He didn’t disappoint. His hand slipped between them, his finger finding her clit then stroking back to slide inside of her, so deep she gasped and arched back.

  “That’s it,” he murmured. “Let go. I want to feel you come for me.”

  “Please.” It was the only word she could manage, the only word that seemed to fit, and as she arched back—his hand still taking desperate control of her sex, stroking and teasing—his mouth bent forward, suckling her first through the material of the tank top, then using his teeth to push the scoop neck lower and close his mouth over her nipples. She gasped as a hot cord of pleasure seemed to shoot from her nipple all the way down to her clit, sending tiny shockwaves through her, like little previews of the pleasures to come.

  “Come on, Claire,” he whispered. “Now.”

  But she didn’t want now. She didn’t want to come again, even despite the way the feeling was building and building inside her, an explosion that was teetering on a precipice, ready to burst over the cliff like fireworks falling down, down, down into the Grand Canyon.

  “Not yet,” she whispered. “Inside me. Please, Ty, please, I need you inside me.”

  He didn’t need further encouragement, thank God, and as she raised herself up on her knees, he slid his pants and briefs off.

  “Condom,” he said.

  “Oh, crap.” Because she didn’t have one and she didn’t want to wait and—

  “Wallet.” She realized he’d reached for his fallen pants and dug a condom out of the wallet and, really, that was worthy of a kiss. So she did, and while he sheathed himself, she ravaged his mouth, her tongue sliding deep, deep inside, in the hopes of giving him some really specific ideas as to what she was looking forward to. What she wanted right then.

  “Bedroom?” he whispered.

  But she didn’t want to wait. He was right there, and she shifted, the tip of him teasing her sex, and she was so wet and she really, really couldn’t wait.

  “Carry me,” she said, easing herself down and sheathing him, then gasping as he drew her in closer, his arms tight around her, and him tight inside her.

  She sighed with pleasure, her own enjoyment heightened by the desperate surprise she heard from his lips. “Claire,” he whispered when words came back to him. “Oh, God, Claire.”

  He thrust upward, and she met him, their bodies colliding together with the kind of force that could move mountains and was sure as hell moving Claire. “Harder,” she demanded, the word a moan, a plea, and he cupped her rear and thrust up as she tossed her head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure of it all.

  “Put your legs around me,” he demanded, and she did, and then he was lifting her up, their bodies still joined, and she squirmed against him, overwhelmed by the intense eroticism of being moved so intimately. “Hang on,” he said, then backed her against a wall. She gasped as he thrust again, and this time, she wasn’t able to bend back to lessen the blow, and she absorbed all of it, all of him, and damned if she wasn’t going to explode from the pleasure of it all.

  “More,” she demanded, her hands on his shoulders, her focus on the feel of him. His cock inside her, his hands firm around her waist. The soft skin of his shoulders, firm beneath her hands as his body stiffened and jolted, pistoning into her with bold determination as the pleasure between them built and built.

  She wanted it. All of it. And she wanted more, too.

  “I’m close,” he whispered. “Claire. Sweet Claire, I’m close.”

  “Wait for me.” She slipped her hand between their bodies, her fingertips grazing his penis as he thrust inside her, the pad of her middle finger stroking her clit. Her body tightened around him, the sensations too much to bear, and as he gasped and stiffened—as he lost himself utterly in an explosion of shockwaves—she was right there with him, her very soul shaking free and floating up, up above them, then looking down on the two interlocked bodies that seemed so damned perfect together.

  “Holy wow,” Ty said, his strong hands holding her back and pressing her tight against him. “Wow.”

  He gently laid her down, his own body on top of hers until he rolled gently over, letting his fingertips trace lightly over her belly.

  “I’m thinking bed is highly over-rated,” she said. “A couch is more than adequate.”

  “What else indeed?” he asked. “But I think I can make you see the value of a bed. If you’d let me try.”

  She swiveled her head to face him and saw the look of mischief on his face. “Again?”

  “I just can’t get enough of you.”

  “Funny. I feel the same way.”

  He climbed over her to stand up, then pulled her into a bridal-style carry. He took her into the bedroom and laid her down, and this time their lovemaking was slow and sweet, with Ty trailing soft kisses down her body until she couldn’t stand it anymore. He straddled her and slid inside, then pumped with a slow, deep urgency, his eyes never leaving hers. Never closing, either, as if he didn’t want to miss a moment of what she was feeling.

  She exploded in his arms, and as the last shivers of the orgasm ripped through her, he held her tight, his lips brushing her hair, his words soft and gentle. And as she fell asleep, she not only felt protected, she felt loved.

  It was a damn nice feeling, and it was one that still lingered when soft movements beside her woke her up. She rolled over to find him sitting up, running his fingers through his hair as he sat there confronting the day.

  She reached over and stroked her fingertips down his bare back. “Ty?”

&nbs
p; He turned, then smiled at her. “Morning.”

  “You’re already up?”

  “Considering I’m my own boss and I have a naked woman beside me, I can’t believe I’m saying this. But I have to go home, get changed and get to work.”

  She yawned and stretched, the fabulous languor she was feeling warring with disappointment that he had to go. “Not me. I’m simply a cog in someone else’s wheel. I’ve got a social dinner with my boss tonight, and then I’m on vacation for another full week.”

  “Rub it in.”

  She flashed him an evil grin, then waggled her eyebrows just for good measure. “I did that last night.”

  “Yes, you did,” he agreed, leaning in for a long, slow kiss. “Probably best not to remind me. I might never get out of here.”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  “Actually, I could probably get used to it.” Another quick kiss and he slid out of the bed, then tugged on his slacks. She watched, appreciating the way he looked both with and without clothes, then slipped a robe on and followed him out to his car.

  “Do you want coffee? Something to eat on the road? I can scrounge up a crumb or two.”

  “I’m good,” he said. “Stay much longer and I won’t want to leave.”

  “At the risk of sounding girlie and needy, do we have any plans for—”

  “Tomorrow?” he suggested, and she smiled.

  “Exactly.”

  “The only plans I have are to see you,” he said.

  And that, she thought, was an absolutely perfect answer.

  8

  WHEN TY ARRIVED AT Matt’s house, there were only two guys he didn’t know lounging on the couch, and he vaguely wondered if perhaps there’d been a fire drill. He couldn’t think of any other reason why the house would have transformed so dramatically, but he had to admit he liked it.

  Yes, he was used to his privacy back home in California, but for the last six months, he’d been doing just fine living in Boys’ Town.

  Now, though…

  Now he’d had a taste of not only Claire, but the way she lived. Relaxed and quiet in a house that actually felt like a home, despite the construction zones. He thought of his own house back in L.A., decorated by a woman he’d hired off the Internet with art that meant nothing to him and colors he hadn’t picked out. He’d told Claire it wasn’t a home, and he realized now just how much he’d meant what he said. He’d been in California for just shy of a decade and it still wasn’t his place any more than Dallas was. Hell, any more than the North Pole was.

  For that, he thought, he envied Claire. Not Dallas—not that—but that sense of belonging to both a town and to a house. He felt it when he was at her place. A connection. A grounding with the world. And although he was surprised to admit it even to himself, there was something compelling about the thought of having that kind of home base.

  He wandered into the kitchen, certain that he’d find a beer in there, and he wasn’t disappointed. He was pouring a Guinness when he heard the front door open.

  “Yo!” Matt’s voice echoed through the house. “Who’s here?”

  Ty stayed quiet, certain his friend would find him eventually. Sure enough, Matt’s next stop was the kitchen. “Friends of yours?” he asked, hooking a thumb toward the living room.

  “Figured they belonged to you.”

  They both peered out toward the two guys, now sprawled on the couch, watching football off the TiVo. “Look safe enough,” Matt says. “Chances are someone knows them.” He glanced at Ty’s Guinness then reached into the fridge and got one for himself. “So give it up, dude. You’ve got that look. Something’s on your mind.” He took a long sip. “Or maybe it’s someone?”

  “It is,” Ty said, freely admitting what was undoubtedly obvious.

  “And she’s okay with all this?”

  “All what? All me?”

  “Your life, man. More pictures went up this morning.”

  “Shit.” Frustration curled in his gut like a snake. “Dammit, why the hell can’t they leave her alone?”

  “The pics aren’t bad. Just the two of you at the club. Then a few at the Starr Resort. But there’s speculation that the role model for single dudes everywhere has finally settled down.”

  “After two dates?”

  Matt shrugged. “Guess they’re seeing the same thing in those pictures I saw when I looked at the two of you.”

  Ty couldn’t deny it. “She’s special. Dammit, I think she might be the one. She’s sure as hell the only girl who’s ever had me thinking like this.”

  “Like how?”

  “About her. About us. And constantly.” Good God, it was as if she’d bitten him with a fast-acting relationship virus, and now his entire perspective was shifting.

  Matt shook his head. “You know I love you, but you don’t have it in you to settle down. You’re not a commitment guy. Look at your business. Look at your life. Every time one of your clubs starts doing well, you start up another. You’ve got an empire going, dude. You conquer, you get bored and you move on.”

  Something dark and familiar curled in Ty’s gut. Because Matt spoke the truth. That was one reason they were always such good friends. “You do the same with women,” Matt said. “All the way back to fourth grade. Remember Dana Harper?”

  “I didn’t feel about Dana the way I feel about Claire,” Ty admitted, and there was a freedom to saying it out loud. To making this thing that had been growing inside him real and tangible. “She’s…” He trailed off, wishing he had the words to explain to Matt the way he felt around Claire. From the first moment he’d seen her, it had been as if she’d flicked a switch in him, and every moment with her had built from there. Already, he felt alone without her by his side, but at the same time, he felt centered, knowing that she was waiting for him. He didn’t know how to say any of that to Matt, though, so he said simply, “I want to make it work with her.”

  “You’ve known her for three seconds, dude.”

  “Yeah, I know.” And even though he knew that most people would think he was crazy for feeling so strongly about someone he’d met so recently, to Ty, the fast burn was actually comforting. He sat down on the two steps leading up to the living room. “Did I ever tell you how I came to buy Heaven?”

  Matt leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t think you have.”

  “I had the money I’d saved, and I knew I wanted to open a club—that was what I was working for, right? The question was when and where. And how I could get a place for the right price, especially in Los Angeles. I knew I wanted to own it, so I needed some place cheap enough that I could cover the down payment, but wouldn’t have a horrible mortgage, because I knew it would be a while before I turned solid profit.”

  “Makes sense. So?”

  “So I was having a hell of a time finding a place that fit the bill. I looked everywhere. My real estate agent probably wanted to strangle me, and I was just some dumb kid with cash back then, and I think he was getting pretty damn tired of me. Finally, we got to the real bottom of the barrel stuff, and he said he’d heard about a property that was going to be condemned. He thought that maybe since I was so picky, I’d want to buy it for the land and then build to my own specs.”

  “And it turned out to be Heaven?”

  “Yup. Turns out it really wasn’t that bad off. We got the court to extend the time before condemnation, stepped in and fixed it up, and then got it re-inspected. It passed, and then I kept on fixing it up until I got the place the way I wanted it.”

  “Great story if we were watching a real-estate reality show, bro, but I’m not seeing the connection to this girl.”

  “I knew the second he pulled up in front of that building that it was the location I’d been searching for. It was like a kick to the gut, you know. And when we went inside, I got more and more sure. I’ve always thought it was a little like falling in love.” He thought of Claire, about the way he felt around her. “And I still think I’m right abou
t that.”

  “Fair enough,” Matt said. “But let me now step in as the voice of reason. When you bought Heaven, you hadn’t already bought and tossed fifteen clubs before. Also, your Claire is a woman, not a building, and you can’t remodel her anyway you want. And you can’t keep her just because you want her.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that you have to face the fact that even if she’s the perfect woman for you, you may not be the guy for her.”

  Matt’s words chilled him, despite the fact that he knew his friend was right.

  “All I’m saying is that if you really want this to work, you’re going to have to stick with it through the rough patches. Like this deal with Murtaugh? You’re all set to go to Paris in, what? Less than two months, right? You think she’s going to go with you? From what I know of Claire Daniels, she’s staying right here.”

  “I know,” Ty admitted on a sigh. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Ty said, wishing there was an easy answer. “I really don’t know.”

  “THIS HAS BEEN A REALLY nice dinner. Thanks so much for inviting me.”

  Judge Monroe waved Claire’s words away. “Nonsense. I think we’ve moved beyond such silly social niceties, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely,” Claire said, trying hard not to grin. She adored and admired Judge Monroe, and the idea that the brilliant woman considered her a peer was the biggest career compliment Claire could think of.

  “And you’ve enjoyed your vacation?” The judge’s brows rose. “Because I expect you back at full capacity next week. The pile of screeners on your desk is insane, and we may be getting the Boreman death-penalty appeal.” Screeners were cases that were decided without oral argument, and part of Claire’s job was to write the original opinion for the judge to review. Death-penalty appeals were a bigger deal. The entire office shut down except for work on the case. The cases happened fast and the staff worked hard, often through the night.