by Tori Carson
* * * *
At work the next day, Chantel was walking around in a gray fog. After paying for her portion of the meal last night, she’d left Rodney to nurse his beer while she’d gone home alone.
It hadn’t taken long for her to realize she had made yet another mistake. She should have given Yummy Man her phone number. He had a confidence about him she’d rarely seen before. She’d been worried when she’d turned him down. He was a large man, muscular, with scarred hands. If she hadn’t been armed, she would have freaked out.
Since he’d just smiled and let her leave, she figured her concerns had been for nothing. And she’d let a scrumptious man walk away. Oh well, everything about him had screamed ‘single forever’. She doubted he’d want two point five kids and a dog named Spot to come home to each evening. Then again, she didn’t need a ring on her finger and a certificate from the state to enjoy some mind-blowing sex. If he was even half as hot in bed as he had been in her dreams last night, she’d missed a hell of an opportunity.
Still kicking herself over not even getting his name, she almost didn’t notice the well-built man kneeling down, not a foot away, until she ran headlong into him. As her body’s forward motion turned into a downward slide, she thought she saw her Yummy Man from the night before. Damn, another dream. But dreams didn’t rearrange your bra when you ran into them or smell fresh and sexy or scatter your paperwork all over the floor.
“Are you all right?”
His low, masculine timbre started her blood boiling. She was so lost in listening to the cadence all she heard was, “Rumble, rumble, purr.” Finally, it sank in.
“I’m good, really good,” she crooned. Holy crap, he was better looking than she remembered. His blond hair was a bit on the longish side. Obviously, he was a man who followed his own style and looked darn fine doing it.
His laugh sent a shiver down the length of her. Global warming activists would want this man outlawed. Her frigid temperatures were on the rise. Okay, so my brain has turned to mush. What does that matter? The rest of me is feeling just fine, thank you.
“I’ll just bet you are. Hello again, darlin’.” His smile lit up his eyes.
Goodness, men shouldn’t be allowed to have eyelashes that long, especially if they frame such striking blue eyes. Crystal blue, like an ocean, with white sandy beaches and little coves where couples could sneak away under a starry sky. Okay, mush and syrup. Maybe she had overdosed on the love stories recently.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” What a whopper of a lie! The only thing she was sorry for was that she couldn’t stay here all day and enjoy the view. Maybe snag a taste right along that strong jawline. Okay, she was willing to admit it, she needed to get laid.
“I’m fine. Just worried about you.”
There he went again with that masculine tone that made her toes curl. “You aren’t in radio, are you? You certainly have the voice for it.” The syrup was so thick it seeped into her tone. Undoubtedly her face had that dreamy mush look to it, too. She knew she was making an utter fool of herself.
“No, I never went into radio. I prefer to work with my hands.” He raised them into view.
Chantel remembered them from the night before, how strong and sexy they had looked. She almost groaned on the spot. Damn.
“I appreciate the compliment, though.” He gestured to the copier torn to pieces at his feet. “I’m here to work on your machine.”
“You can work on me anytime.” She spoke before she could stop herself. Chantel felt her face bathe in heat. She had been around the man two minutes and already her brain was fried. Of course, a night of crazy sex dreams hadn’t helped either. Her hormones were in overdrive.
He chuckled. “I’d be happy to.”
Feeling desperate, she stuck out her hand. “I’m Chantel Donley. I teach fifth grade.”
“Reese McCormick.” Teague remembered in the nick of time to use his alias. He knew it was dangerous to not completely live his cover story, to think of himself as Reese. One slip could very well cost him his life, but what was that life worth if none of the real him existed anymore?
“Nice to know your name, Reese. Thank you for checking on me last night. It was sweet of you.”
Sweet? Like some fucking puppy? He’d like to show her sweet. He’d like to paddle her ass then fuck her in every position he could think of—and he could be pretty inventive when the mood struck—then ask her if she thought he was sweet.
He probably wouldn’t get anywhere with the bad-boy routine with this one, though. She might enjoy flirting, but she’d turned him down cold last night. Watching her twist her fingers into an intricate knot told him she was nervous. If the putz she’d been with last night was a typical date for her, he’d have to go slowly. “You’re welcome. I guess I have a soft spot for a damsel in distress.” He pictured her on her hands and knees, ass in the air, as he rammed his cock deep inside her slick—
“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” she asked.
Several ideas immediately popped into Teague’s sex-starved imagination. He really needed to get his mind out of fuck mode. He knew from experience that all intelligent thought ceased when he allowed his cock to take charge. He didn’t need a repeat of last time. “I’d be honored if you’d allow me to buy you a drink after work.”
“I should be the one buying your drink. It was my clumsiness.”
“Nonsense! I shouldn’t have been blocking the walkway. It was my fault. Where would you like to go?”
She shrugged. “Is there someplace you’d like?”
Deferring to him… Either she didn’t go to bars often or she preferred men to take charge in a social setting. “Black Bart’s isn’t far from here. How about we meet there around six?”
Once the arrangements were made, he helped her pick up the papers that had scattered across the floor when she’d dropped into his lap. All too soon, she’d headed off to her classroom.
Teague spent an hour diagnosing and repairing the problem on their dinosaur of a copy machine. As he was pushing it back into position, he spotted a small leather case. He knew it hadn’t been here when he’d first arrived, so it had to belong to Channy. He threw it in his briefcase, knowing he’d see her later that evening.
* * * *
I’ve no time to plead or pine.
I’ve no time to wheedle.
Kiss me quick and then I’m gone.
Pop! goes the weasel.
The tune was stuck in his head again. He’d given up fighting it and simply hummed along. In a way, it fit his purpose. He had no intentions of pleading or pining. No real man would waste his time trying to wheedle his way into a woman’s heart. They were foolish creatures that needed a firm hand. Soon he would be ready to make his move.
He took his time weeding through the latest batch of pictures, smiling as he remembered taking them. Carefully, he cut out everything but her image then added it to the collage inside ‘her’ room. She never suspected she was being followed. Not once. She still had no idea her home was wired with both audio and video feed. Law enforcement had missed their chance. He could have been their best agent. Pop! goes the weasel. It didn’t matter. He had a higher calling.
I’ve no time to wheedle. Her room was almost prepared. He knew everything about her. She would never escape him. Lovingly, he caressed the manacle bolted to the wall. Kiss me quick and then I’m gone. They’d never catch him. He’d covered his tracks. To the outside world, she would simply disappear. Then she would plead and pine. Plead for his mercy and pine for his love. Pop! goes the weasel.
* * * *
Teague stopped by his house to grab a quick shower and change before leaving to meet Channy. ‘Chantel’ was just too formal for his tastes. He glanced at the clock—he had over an hour before he needed to head out. He slid the band off and opened the cover of the leather case he’d found under the copier. It was a Kindle. Curiosity had been his downfall before, bu
t it still didn’t stop him from turning it on.
Master Lucian loved seeing his marks along his submissive’s ass and thighs. “Have you had enough, my slut?”
“More please, Master. Your slut needs more.”
He chuckled—she’d come such a long way. His girl had taken to SM much quicker than he’d expected. He was proud of her for acknowledging her wants and desires. “As you wish.” He gave her three more lashes. Each time they played together, she negotiated a more challenging scene.
“Master, please let me come.”
What the fuck was she reading? He hit the home button and it brought him to the carousel. As he scrolled through her favorites, he found BDSM book after BDSM book. Conservative teacher was hiding a helluva lot more than just a kick-ass body. Son of a bitch, had he died and gone to heaven? Or maybe it was Hell… No doubt the cosmos was likely fucking him again. Fool that he was, he was excited about the ride.
He’d gotten to the bar early. It was already crowded, and noisy. Perfect! Channy was bound to hate it and be willing to go someplace more private. Something inside him had come alive when she’d run headlong into him. His pragmatic side told him he was just horny, but he feared there might be a bit more to it. After he’d gotten a look at her Kindle, his dick had come to life with a vengeance.
He turned to the bartender. “Give me an iced tea, please.”
“Coming right up,” she replied. Within a minute she had placed his drink on the bar in front of him.
In no time, his mind drifted back to Channy. Unless he was mistaken, that was the first real pair of tits he’d seen in a long time. He’d been imagining the little teacher in his bed. Large, pouty nipples to match her full, pouty lips. He wanted to kiss them both until she begged for more.
His heart beat faster and his hands turned to ice as he realized she was there. What was this woman doing to him? He hadn’t been nervous about meeting a woman in years. All the blood in his body seemed to pool in his groin. Well, not everything about him was nervous. His cock was distinctly eager. As he shifted his hips, trying to hide the bulge building in his pants, he got a good look at Channy. Damn, she looked good. He did a double take to make sure it was her. But there was no mistaking those emerald green eyes or her hair with streaks of gold, copper and fire that all blended together into a devastating package.
Taking him by surprise, Chantel walked across the entryway and slid perfectly underneath his shoulder—just like she belonged there.
“Hi there.” She went up on her tippy toes and kissed his cheek.
“Well, hello.” He shook his head feeling like an utter fool. Well, hello? Is that seriously the best I could come up with? Channy had him as tongue-tied as a horny teen. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, regaining his composure.
They stood directly under a TV that was turned up way too loud. It would be impossible for her to hear herself think. Again, he congratulated himself on spinning a web his little teacher would be unable to escape. She would be writhing beneath him in no time.
As Teague inhaled her scent, his dick tightened in a painful ache. She smelled like flowers and something else. Something sexy and musky. This woman was dangerous to his well-ordered world. Her pheromones seemed to have his direct number on speed dial. Remember the objective! He refused to allow her the upper hand.
“I hope you don’t mind, I got us a booth. It’s too noisy in here.” He spoke near her ear, barely controlling the urge to run his tongue down her neck as he pressed kiss after kiss.
Tension visibly eased in her shoulders and she smiled at him. “That would be nice. Thank you.”
He kept his hand on her lower back as he guided her to the hostess station and to their table. At the booth, he slid in beside her, crowding her personal space until their thighs touched.
The waitress came by and placed a basket of bread and butter on the table. She pointed out their wine list and said she’d be back shortly for their order.
“You look lovely tonight, Channy.” Her tight, faded blue jeans, a snug tee that accented her generous breasts and f-me pumps. It was a pleasant departure from what she’d been wearing at the school today.
Teague loved the beautiful blush dusting her cheeks. Such a pretty pink. He’d like to give her bottom cheeks a matching color. He wondered where the embarrassment was coming from, though. Ever since they’d sat down, she’d been wringing her hands with her eyes cast downward.
“Do you like steak? They have a nice filet mignon here,” he commented, as he buttered a piece of bread.
She blinked in surprise as he handed it to her. “Thank you. Um, I’d love a steak.”
Teague was good at reading people, but Channy confounded him. She seemed more uptight tonight than she had when he’d cornered her in the bathroom last night. It made no sense.
After the waitress had taken their order and scurried away, Channy’s back went rigid and she began tapping her foot.
“Did you have a stressful day?” Maybe it had nothing to do with him at all.
She shrugged. “It went well.” She pulled her hands under the table, but he could see she was still twisting her fingers into knots. “How about you?”
“Honestly, it’s been an interesting week. Last night, I was grabbing a bite to eat and I saw this beautiful woman.”
Channy looked away, then folded her hands neatly in her lap and stole a glance at him.
“She was sitting with an idiot who obviously didn’t recognize what a lucky SOB he was to be dining with such a woman. I kinda lost my mind for a minute and cornered her in the restroom, hoping she’d give me a chance.” He shot her an innocent grin. “I was rather shocked I didn’t get my face slapped or have her push past me and call the cops.” He shook his head.
“She had such poise under pressure. I was impressed and intrigued. Then fate put us together again and this time she granted me the honor of dining with me, but I did something wrong. She looks ready to bolt and I really don’t know why. Maybe you could help me figure it out?” He hoped she’d relax.
Channy chuckled. “Well, I don’t know for sure, but maybe last night she knew the chance encounter wasn’t going to lead to anything. Tonight, she isn’t sure what you have in mind. It was supposed to be a drink in a crowded bar and it has already turned into a very expensive dinner that she isn’t comfortable having you pay for, but fears there will be a fight if she tries to pay for it herself.”
“Ahh, so that’s the problem. You had me worried for a moment. Thought my aftershave might have been woman repellent or something.” His cock jumped at her tinkling laugh.
“Hardly. Didn’t you see the hostess and waitress drooling every time they looked at you?” She sounded a little bitter.
“No, and it wouldn’t matter. I’m here with the woman I want to be with.” Tonight anyway.
After the fiasco with the redhead and G.’s men, he’d tried the celibacy route, but that hadn’t lasted more than a few months. Hand jobs in the shower only worked for so long. Eventually, he’d sought out private clubs in whatever city he was residing in at the time. It had worked out well. He didn’t have to try to explain his preferences to someone who might think he’s a psycho and he rarely saw the same woman more than once. That was the beauty of the clubs. No emotional entanglements.
“That’s kind of you to say.”
Perhaps he needed to work on his poker face. Her facial expression looked like she’d heard his mental musings. “Your instincts were correct. I will be paying for your meal. I’m old-fashioned like that.” When she started to speak, he held up his hand. This topic was closed. “So, Channy, what do you do when you aren’t at school?”
* * * *
One minute he had been giving their dinner order and the next they were laughing as they shared a chocolate mudslide for dessert. The evening flew by without her realizing. He knew exactly what to do to put her at ease and was so easy to talk to.
“What about sports? What teams do you root for?” This would be v
ery telling. Way too many of her friends were sports widows.
He shook his head. “I’d rather play than sit on the sideline and watch.” Reese gave her a quizzical look. “Are you a dog or a cat person?”
She laughed. “We never had pets, but I always wanted a dog. A big, brown, loveable dog.” One of these days, she’d have one. “Books or movies?”
His face scrunched up in the cutest way. “Phew, books.”
It was crazy how easy it was to talk to him. No matter what the subject, they seemed to find things they had in common. Even the touchier subjects like politics and religion they agreed on.
In another blink of an eye, he was walking her to her car. He was looking altogether too sexy for her comfort. She had her back to the car door as he rested his arm on the roof. His fingers gently played with her hair as his other hand cupped her waist. In seemingly slow motion, he swung down and caressed her lips with his. As his tongue swept inside her mouth, she arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest. He tasted naughty like a dessert on the second day of a diet. A guilty pleasure.
Her breath quickened as he slid his hand down her spine. Anticipation tingled then was snatched away as he pulled back. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before murmuring the words “Drive carefully” in her ear. She wanted so badly to throw herself at him. Tell him in graphic detail all her hidden fantasies, knowing with utmost certainty he would fulfill them. This was not at all the way the evening was supposed to end!
Sure, she’d worn her granny panties to ensure she didn’t break rule two—never make love on the first date. She bit her lip and tried to figure him out. He seemed like such a bad boy only out for one thing and yet he treated her like a gentleman should. Part of her knew she wasn’t ready to jump his bones, although her more adventurous side was threatening to rebel. His peck on the cheek had her knees threatening to give out as his warm breath slid along her neck. A soft groan escaped before she could stop it. He just looked at her and she grew wet with need. She was seriously in over her head, but the last thing she wanted was to drive home alone. And horny.
