Sinful Longing

by Lauren Blakely

  Her body answered with an epic shudder, a wild tightening against his dick, which was so damn hard inside her. Her slick walls gripped him as he slammed in and out of her, pulling back so only the tip was in her. He paused momentarily, then whispered in a low, dirty growl in her ear, “Colin, I’m going to come all over your face. I’m going to come so fucking hard on your face,” he said to her, and her eyes glazed over, and her body trembled, and everything, everything, everything in her reaction told him he was not only right, but she was there, finding her way to a second coming. He let go of her hip, and glided his finger across her clit. “Say it,” he commanded, as he fucked her deep and rubbed her clit.

  “I’m going to come so fucking hard,” she said, her voice falling to pieces as she came on him. She started to cry out in ecstasy, but he clamped his palm over her mouth. He fucked her furiously, holding in all her screams, keeping her quiet as his balls tightened and his own orgasm tore through his body, consuming him like a torrential storm ripping across the coastline.

  He cursed as he came hard.

  He wanted to collapse onto her, to wrap his arms around her and just exist in this sated, blissful state. He looped his hands around her sexy waist, holding her close. He brushed his lips against her collarbone, and she shivered then flashed him a small smile.

  “Attention, the doors are closing in two minutes. Thank you for visiting the mob museum. Bugsey is not alone tonight. We have just received word that Al Capone is haunting the premises.”

  “Al Capone!” Elle said in a stage whisper. “Oh no!”

  Quickly, Colin pulled out and disposed of the condom. They straightened up, and a minute later, walked to the exit, thanking the ticket taker and the security guard who locked the door behind them.

  On the front steps of the museum, Elle grabbed his hand. “Let’s play some poker, Colin Scotty Sloan.”

  He wished he didn’t like it so much when she kept her fingers locked through his as they spent the next hour wandering through Fremont Street, playing slots, then a round at the five dollar tables.

  When it was time for her to go, he walked her to her car. “I had a really great time,” she said, but before he could say “me, too,” she brushed her hands together, as if she were wiping the evening away. The night was over. It had a before and an after. “That’s that. Now I’m off to be a mom.”

  Her voice changed. Her tone shifted. Her whole demeanor transformed. She was moving from Elle the sexy, wanton woman who was dirty and bold and who liked to fuck hard, to the other Elle.

  The one who had no room in her life for him. The one who erected walls and ramparts to keep him out. His heart sagged, knowing he might never be able to knock those down. They might simply be unscalable because of how he’d lived and who he’d been before her.

  Choices had consequences. Every single one. He’d made some terrible choices when he was younger, and even though those days were far in the rearview mirror, he was feeling the repercussions as he walked her to her car and said good night before she drove off to her real life.

  * * *

  Fun.

  That was good, plain fun.

  That was basically the best night she’d had in ages.

  She shook her head in amazement as she slowed her car at a red light on her way to pick up Alex.

  “Fun,” she said out loud, as if the word was a new concept.

  In many ways, it was to her. Elle hadn’t had that sort of evening in…well…in many years. Sure, she always had a blast doing roller derby, but that was more of a necessary outlet, her own therapy to handle living with an addict, since she’d started on the team when she was with Sam then continued when she kicked him out. And, yes, she and her son had gobs of fun playing zombie games, going bowling, and challenging each other in Pac-Man at the roller rink after her matches.

  But adult fun? Date fun? Fun as a woman?

  That had been eons ago. Like, maybe the Paleolithic period. Getting knocked up as a teenager didn’t give you many opportunities for fun.

  Tonight though, from the zip line to the museum visit to hand holding along Fremont Street…every single second was lovely, and a small part of her heart already longed for another night like it.

  She never thought she’d have a bad time with Colin, but she hadn’t imagined they’d have such a good one. It made perfect sense that they’d gel, she reasoned, as the light changed and she hit the gas. The two of them had clicked from day one. They’d chatted easily when they first met, sharing a similar view on the value of community service, the importance of being role models for youth, and the benefit of giving kids a chance to have fun, too. But tonight she learned they had even more in common, little things, like their shared affection for mob movies and their fondness for the stories of Vegas.

  Then there was the sex. Oh, the toe-curling, sheet-grabbing, mind-blowing sex. As she turned onto the street where Alex’s friend lived, her chest tingled with the memories of how he’d taken her against the sink after sending her over the edge in the stairwell. He was direct and dirty, and he seemed to embrace that she was, too. He was also commanding and intense, and relished telling her exactly what he wanted from her.

  She wanted all the same things.

  And admittedly, a quiet part of her wanted more of him. A part she rarely acknowledged. Try as she might to keep him in the friend zone, being friends with him only made him more appealing. But she had to stay strong. Had to maintain the boundaries. That was the only way to protect her son, and to keep her promises to herself. Colin was a great friend and an amazing lover, and surely she could have him as both for some time. No need for complications.

  She pulled into the driveway, cut the engine, and walked to the door. Her girlfriend Janine answered, greeting her with “You all set for the match next week? Friday evening.”

  Janine was the jammer on the Fishnet Brigade, their roller derby team.

  “Absolutely. Gotta block for my Cool Hand Bette,” Elle said, using Janine’s skate name.

  “Excellent. I’ll pick you up and drive?”

  “It’s a plan.”

  Minutes later, she was driving Alex home.

  “How was the movie?”

  “Awesome,” he said, then proceeded to tell her about how intensely realistic the velociraptor attack had seemed. Elle smiled and laughed, all the while thinking she could so do this.

  Nothing was going to stop Elle “Moneybags” Mariano from having her cake and eating it too.

  Not a damn thing.

  Not even the crack of dawn.

  Because that piece of her that had longed for more woke her up early the next day. It tugged at some untended spot within her, like a small child grabbing her mother’s shirt, asking for another cookie. She didn’t entirely know what her heart wanted. She wasn’t even in tune with the language it was speaking. But something compelled her to go.

  As she peeked out the window, the sky turned the shade of dark blue that comes before the sun rises.

  She pulled on shorts, a tank top, and a pair of her white roller skating socks with the row of red skulls around the knee, left a message for her snoozing son, and took off to surprise Colin.

  CHAPTER TEN

  This was a perfect dawn. Calm, quiet, and beautiful.

  The craggy canyon rocks loomed larger as he drew closer to the lakeshore. The cool waters were still and serene, reflecting the soft rays of the rising sun that peeked over the horizon. Colin only had an hour free before he was due at the office, but he’d seized it. Times like these were precious.

  The near-silence surrounding him was like a natural tranquilizer. Only the splash of the paddle with each stroke broke the quiet. He’d already gone for a swim, and tomorrow he’d tackle a morning climb as part of his training regimen for the triathlon. The event was less than a month away, and he was nearly ready. Way more prepped than he’d been last summer. He’d planned to try the triathlon again a year ago. But his last girlfriend, Kayla, hadn’t understood his drive to redo t
he race, and she’d needled him again and again to stop spending so much time working out. Rather than rock the boat with Kayla, he’d abandoned his quest to compete. The relationship fizzled out a few months later when he realized the obvious—he and Kayla weren’t right for each other, and he didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t understand what mattered to him. When he broke up with her, she’d left him a slew of angry messages—the kind that made him wish text messaging had never been invented.

  At least Elle understood why he wanted to do this race. She got it. She got him. She understood that these moments before the day turned hectic and wild had become essential to his wellbeing, and to his recovery. At first he thought he could run faster, bike harder, or kayak longer to prove that he’d left addiction in the dust. Then he began to accept that recovery wasn’t something you could muscle through to a finish line.

  It was a daily practice.

  He practiced it with intense outdoor exercise that burned in his muscles and made his heart pound. He’d always been active, but getting the bad shit out of his system had given him the chance to become an athlete in a new way. The rigor of his workout was part of how he gave back—to himself. After years of pouring crap into his body, he now chose to do the opposite. To treat his body like a temple.

  Of course, there were other ways he enjoyed being good to the body, and last night was a prime example. He replayed the stairwell, the sink, the sexy sounds she made, and the sounds he didn’t let her make.

  Splash.

  He nearly missed a paddle stroke, and he laughed quietly. Picturing Elle’s hot body, and remembering her ravenous appetite, was not conducive to focused morning exercise. He repositioned the paddle and continued rowing closer to shore.

  No time to linger on the woman while in the water. Just concentrate on finishing the workout.

  He raised his eyes to the edge of the lake and blinked. What the hell?

  A woman with long, wavy brown hair, and a badass skater girl outfit waved to him—big, broad, wildly happy waves. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “What do you think? Can I wear this kayaking?”

  Striking a playful pose, she gestured to her outfit. She was a sight all right, in her tattered jean shorts and wife-beater tee, displaying the ink on her arms and wearing those crazy socks. She didn’t look outdoorsy at all, but who fucking cared? He cracked up as a surge of happiness bounded through him. The last thing in the world he’d expected to see this morning was Elle. But the furious beating in his heart as he dragged the kayak ashore had little to do with the exertion and more to do with the utter delight of his unexpected morning visitor.

  He tapped the side of the fiberglass hull. “So you decided to take me up on my offer to hit the lake?”

  “Not entirely,” she said, with a coquettish little grin and sway of the hips. “I don’t think I have the right gear. But I thought I could take you out for a quick breakfast to say thanks for getting me out of the house last night. I had fun. I did some Yelp research and there’s an organic cafe that serves steel-cut oats and handpicked blueberries on the way back to town. I’m guessing that’s the only thing you put in your body in the morning?”

  He fought back a grin. She knew him too well.

  “Don’t know where you got the idea that I was some kind of health nut,” he said, with a “who me” to his tone.

  “It’s a mystery to me, too.”

  The real mystery though was why she was here. This wasn’t like her. Not the Elle who had defined lines, rules, and boxes for him. On the one hand, maybe this was another acceptable sliver of time. But on the other, maybe she was here because he’d changed his approach and shown her a fun date last night. He hoped it was the latter, but whatever the reason, he’d gladly take it, and not just because those sexy socks made him think how insanely hot she’d look if they were the only thing she wore.

  But because she was here.

  * * *

  “Where’s Alex?” Colin asked after they ordered at the Ampersand & Pie, an off-the-beaten-path cafe with chalkboard menus and wooden chairs painted sky blue. They’d opted for a table on the outdoor patio.

  “Not sure if you know this about teenage boys, but they have a thing for sleeping in,” she said, tapping her watch. “It’s seven a.m., and he’ll be sound asleep ’til at least nine.”

  He gestured for her to come closer then dropped his voice to a whisper. “I do know that about teenage boys having once, you know, been one,” he said, and she laughed. He reached for his coffee. “It was quite a surprise to see you at the shore.”

  “Not a bad one, I hope?”

  “Never a bad one. But tell me. Why didn’t you want to go kayaking? I would have gone back out on the water with you.”

  She shrugged and reached for a napkin on the table. “I figured there wasn’t really time.”

  He arched an eyebrow, clearly not believing her. She folded and unfolded the napkin but didn’t say any more.

  He dropped a hand onto hers. “Okay, obviously, it’s not about whether you had enough time to kayak. You’re nervous, like you were with the zip line.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily. This felt less like fun and more like talking. But, something inside her wanted the talking. Not just about movies and the mob, but other things—the things that had brought them together in the first place. Talking about life. Was this why she’d felt the urge to find him this morning?

  She worried away at her lip then sighed as she answered. “It’s not that I’m afraid of kayaking. I just don’t like activities that have a high possibility of death. Car racing, bungee jumping, kayaking…” She added, pointedly, “Or rock climbing.”

  He laughed. “You can’t keep me away from that sport. And fine, the first two, sure. They can be dangerous—”

  “So can rock climbing. You broke your tibia doing it.”

  “And lived to tell the tale. In fact,” he said, tapping his calf, “everything works just fine in both legs. But let’s get back to kayaking. You can swim, right? Wait. Don’t tell me. Elle Mariano can’t swim and my next project is to teach her how to dog paddle?”

  She tossed the napkin at him, pinging his shoulder with it. “I can totally swim!”

  She just didn’t like to anymore.

  “So what is it?” he asked, tilting his head, waiting. Simply waiting. Giving her time to answer, as well as time to study his handsome face. Dark scruff lined his jaw—that sexy, all-over stubble that she loved to feel against her. His brown eyes were the shade of espresso, and focused intently on her. She’d made a career out of listening to others, but she suspected she could learn from him, because this man made her feel as if he was hearing every single word.

  She half wished there was some deep, dark reason for her mini phobias. Okay, not really. But it would be easier than the truth, which was that it hadn’t taken much for her to become a fraidycat when it came to certain activities. “It’s not as if there’s some terrible traumatic story from my childhood, like I was caught in a current, or was attacked by a jellyfish, or that I nearly drowned. But when I was younger, a bunch of us used to go swimming at a lake, and jump off this rock ledge into it. One time when I did, I cut my head on a rock.”

  He winced. “Ouch. Were you okay?”

  She nodded quickly. “Yes. I mean, there was a lot of blood, and my mother did her best impression of a calm nurse as her daughter’s head bled and she took me to the ER. I got a few stitches right under my hairline, and everything was fine,” she said, pushing her hair away from her ear to show him that she had no scar, no marks. “But still. It freaked me out. And I just realized that I didn’t want to take chances like that again. That I could be safer if I didn’t do stuff like that.”

  “But you do roller derby,” he said in a gentle voice.

  “Ah,” she said, holding up her index finger to make her point. “The seeming contradiction. But see, I’ve always skated, and it’s indoors, and there are no rocks, or dangerous currents, or cliffs to fall off
of. And I like to be active, so skating seems the more reasonable risk. But that’s also why I’m a blocker, not a jammer.”

  He raised an eyebrow in a question.

  “Blocker is defense. Not as many injuries. It’s the safer position.”

  “I see.” He nodded slowly. “So you avoid things like zip lines and lakes and cliffs to stay safe?”

  She parted her lips to speak but stopped to gaze at the wood of the overhang, and truly considered her answer. “I suppose so. I like life. I like living. I want to keep it that way. Seems I have the greatest chance if I can minimize risk by not, say, parachuting or rock climbing or anything else that might shorten my life.”

  “It might. It also might expand it,” he suggested.

  A tiny bead of defensiveness zipped across her. “Are you saying I don’t have an expansive life?”

  He shook his head. “No. Hell no. I just think there are reasonable risks and unreasonable ones, and you have to know which ones can enrich you.”

  “It’s easy for you to say. Your whole job is about risks.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “I know. And I fucking love it.”

  “And I love helping kids at risk avoid more dangers in life,” she said, matter-of-factly. She turned philosophical. “Funny, how both our jobs are about risk. But in very different ways.”

  He held his arms out wide, tapping an imaginary point with each hand. “That’s true. It’s like we’re triangulating a problem. Approaching it from different sides.”

  Something about his analogy was so very Colin, and it amused her. “You really can see everything through the veil of math, can’t you?”

  He laughed deeply, flashing a big smile as he did. “Guilty as charged.” He leaned forward. “So why did you come this morning, since you clearly had no intention of kayaking?”