Midnight Fantasies

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

“I know. I’m trying.”

  “Good.” She finished taking off his jeans and briefs before guiding him to the bed. If this was to be her last time with Jonas, she planned to make it count.

  Before he’d arrived, she’d placed the bottle of oil on the nightstand. The cap was already off. Right next to that was the condom she planned to use when the time was right. She poured a quarter-size puddle of oil into the palm of her hand.

  “The thing is, I don’t know…how much more I can…”

  She stroked his penis with her oil-lubricated hand.

  “Oh, dear God. You have oil.”

  “Yes.” She massaged some over his chest and down his flat stomach. He was breathing harder than a charging bull by the time she finished massaging his thighs, calves and feet. “It’s flavored oil. Guess what that means?”

  “It means you’ll drive me insane.”

  “I hope so.” She moved back up to his chest and began to lick the cherry-laced oil from his nipples.

  He quivered with every flick of her tongue. “Be…careful,” he warned. “I’m so close. Ahh…Sarah…that’s good.”

  Like a mother cat grooming a kitten, she lapped at every bit of him except his groin. And finally that was all that was left. She started on her final project.

  “No,” he said. “No.”

  “But I want—”

  “Get the condom out of my jeans pocket.” His voice was tight with desperation. “Or hand them to me and let me do it. If you put your tongue there again, I’ll never make it. Please.”

  Now that the moment had come, a whisper of fear held her back. Until now she’d been able to treat this as a game. It was the most erotic, exciting, passionate game she’d ever played, but still a game. Instinct told her that once she joined her body with his, the game would change.

  “Please, Sarah. I want to be inside you.”

  She wanted that, too. But she was afraid of the price she’d pay. Yet without that, her memory of these days would be incomplete. She reached for the condom packet on the nightstand and ripped it open.

  “Ah, you found it.”

  “No, I had my own.”

  “Do it quick. Don’t tease me with this, or we’ll both lose.”

  Taking a deep breath, she unrolled the condom over his penis. “There. It’s—” She gasped as his fingers tightened over her wrist. “Jonas?”

  He sat up. “I don’t have to see for this part.”

  Before she could react, he pushed her down and slid on top of her.

  “Jonas, wait.” He was taking over, and that could mean he’d force the issue of her identity. He’d been so docile that she’d never expected this.

  “It’s my turn.” He grasped her other wrist and held both hands flat against the mattress. “Finally.” He nuzzled her breasts, her throat, the tender place behind her ear.

  And she was losing the fight to resist. Her protest sounded feeble. “You were supposed to stay on your back.”

  He nibbled her earlobe. “If you wanted to guarantee that, you should have tied me up again. Now kiss me, you wild, crazy woman.” And with that he plundered her mouth.

  She surrendered. She couldn’t do anything else, wanting him the way she did. Oh, how she ached.

  He lifted his mouth a fraction from hers and edged a knee between her thighs. “Open up for me.”

  As if she could help it. He was running the show now.

  He moved between her thighs. “Now arch your hips and invite me in.”

  Gripping his firm bottom in both hands, she lifted toward him.

  “Ah, that’s good.” He probed her slick entrance with the tip of his penis. “Do you want me?”

  “Yes.” She would die if he didn’t plunge deep within her.

  “Then tell me. Say it. I want to hear you.”

  She struggled for breath. “I want you.”

  “Say I want you, Jonas.”

  Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. “I want you, Jonas.”

  “Have you always wanted me?”

  She was delirious with need, barely making sense of what he was saying, only knowing that she would agree to anything if only he’d fill her. “Yes,” she said, panting.

  “That’s all I needed to know.” He slid forward, slowly and deliberately, until they were locked tight.

  Tears filled her eyes. This was so perfect, so completely and utterly perfect. She’d known it would be.

  “It’s good,” he said.

  She nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see.

  “And it’s going to get better.” There was a tenderness in his voice, a gentleness in his rhythm.

  She’d never imagined, after all the wildness they’d shared, that he would take this final step so slow and easy. The tears poured down her cheeks as Jonas made love to her, really made love to her. This didn’t feel like a game anymore.

  With each sure stroke Jonas took her closer to the brink. And all the while he murmured words of endearment, making her feel cherished. Making her feel loved.

  “Now,” he said, increasing the rhythm. “Come for me.”

  She rode on the crest, propelled by his movements, his whispered words of encouragement. And then, she was there, coming apart in his arms, quaking and sobbing at the beauty of it.

  While she continued to tremble in the aftermath, he surged forward with his own release. Poised on his braced forearms, he clenched his jaw and groaned. Then he slowly collapsed against her. His voice was husky, his breath warm against her ear. “Ah, B.J. That was so great.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HER NAME HAD SLIPPED right out while Jonas was basking in the glow of their togetherness. Making love to B.J. had been so wonderful, so right, that he’d totally forgotten to play the game. Hell and damnation, he hadn’t meant to let her know at this delicate moment that he knew who she was. But it was done now.

  She went rigid beneath him. Then she began to struggle to get away.

  “Wait a minute, B.J.” He pulled off the blindfold with one hand while he tried to grab her with the other. His movements were slow, weighed down with that lazy pleasure following great lovemaking. “Don’t go getting all upset.”

  “You knew! You knew all along! Let me go!”

  “I didn’t know at first.” Some of the slippery oil from his body had transferred itself to her and that made holding onto her more difficult. “I found out this morning.”

  “And you came here anyway!” She managed to push him away long enough to scramble out of the bed.

  “Yeah, I sure did.” At last he had a good look at her in the red suede outfit, with her hair down, her skin flushed, her breasts heaving. He swallowed. She was something, all right. He’d seriously misjudged B.J. Branscom. “And not a man alive would blame me for it. You started this whole thing, and I would have been a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity!”

  She snatched up his jeans and held them over her crotch. “Why, so you could laugh at me for the rest of your life?”

  “Laugh at you? Are you crazy? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been your slave for three solid days. If anyone planned to have a good laugh over this, it would be you, sweetheart!”

  She was quivering, her eyes wild. “I never meant for you to know.”

  A cold fist gripped his heart. “Never?”

  She shook her head.

  “And why would that be?” he asked quietly.

  At first it seemed she wouldn’t answer him. Then she lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I would think that would be obvious.”

  As he lay there staring at her, his heart aching as it never had in his life, only one thing was obvious to him. She didn’t want him for anything more than an anonymous roll in the hay. Maybe she’d been curious after all the talk and wanted a chance to find out how good he was in bed. But beyond that, he wasn’t what she was looking for.

  “Give me my clothes,” he said. “I’m going home.”

  B.J. THREW HER SUEDE outfit in the Dumpster on the way home. She thought
about not going home at all, of driving instead to Los Angeles and trying to locate her sister Keely. But she couldn’t do that to her father. He’d mourned the loss of contact with Keely so much. If B.J. left, he’d have no family at all.

  But she couldn’t imagine how she’d be able to work on the ranch after this. Technically Jonas was her boss, although she seldom thought about that considering the way they all worked together like equals. Or had. That easy camaraderie was over now.

  What a fool she’d been to think that she could keep her identity a secret. He’d probably gone to town that morning and asked a few questions about the woman renting the Hawthorne place. Saguaro Junction was a small place. Information wasn’t hard to come by.

  So now she was exactly what she’d never wanted to be—another one of Jonas’s conquests. No point in thinking otherwise. If he’d meant to turn this thing around, to take the relationship seriously, he would have told her the minute he showed up tonight. He would have whipped off the blindfold right away.

  Instead he’d let her continue the game and probably would have let her go on indefinitely. Except, in the aftermath of lovemaking, he’d forgotten to call her Sarah. She should probably be grateful for his slipup. Otherwise she might have been tempted to let him come back the following night.

  She automatically looked for Jonas’s shiny black truck when she drove toward the ranch house on her way to her father’s little bungalow. The truck wasn’t there.

  A chill went down her spine as she pictured him downing beers at the Roundup Saloon. Would he tell anyone what had happened? If he did, if even one word of this got around town, she’d have to leave, no matter how much it hurt her father. In fact, her father might prefer that she left.

  She had to hope Jonas wasn’t blabbing everything to his buddies at the bar tonight. He probably wasn’t. Rumors flew about Jonas’s exploits, but B.J. had never known Jonas to say anything about the women he was involved with.

  Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get his word that he wouldn’t reveal their secret, ever. Once Jonas promised something like that, he wouldn’t break his promise. She’d grown up knowing that about both the Garfield brothers. Teasing and playing pranks had been part of everyday life, but when it came to serious things like keeping a confidence, both Jonas and Noah were men of their word.

  She let herself into the darkened house where all was silent except the ticking of the grandfather clock and the snoring coming from her father’s bedroom. Going into her own room, she undressed and crawled into bed. If only she could think of some excuse to go away.

  There was Sarah’s mail to be considered if she left, but Arch would be willing to take care of that for the last three days if B.J. told him she desperately needed a break. Even a short getaway would help put some distance between tonight and a future of working side by side with Jonas.

  Although many women expected to marry and move away from home, B.J. had always assumed she’d live on this ranch forever. She’d figured that if she married, her husband would live and work here, too. She loved everything about Twin Boulders—riding the gentle hills, working with the animals, even driving the balky old tractor.

  Well, she’d certainly mucked up her happy little existence with this stunt. And tomorrow she’d have to face Jonas.

  JONAS AWOKE WITH THE WORST hangover he’d had in years, a condition made even more painful by someone pounding on the roof over his head. No doubt his brother was trying to kill two birds with one stone—fixing some loose shingles while the sun was shining and getting Jonas’s sorry ass out of bed.

  He glanced at the clock. Nearly ten. Unfortunately the Roundup didn’t open until noon or he’d be off to drown his sorrows all over again. Yet he knew he couldn’t stay drunk because Noah needed his help on the ranch. Eventually he’d have to figure out how to handle this disaster.

  Maybe Noah could spare him for a few days, though, so he could get away and figure out how in hell he’d be able to stay on this ranch and work side by side with B.J. And that’s what he’d have to do, because he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, and he couldn’t very well kick her off the premises.

  Oh, technically he might be able to fire her, especially if he told Noah what she’d done. But of course, he wouldn’t tell Noah. He wouldn’t tell anyone. Besides, if he fired B.J., then Arch would leave with her, and that would make an even bigger mess.

  He couldn’t believe she’d done this to him. Sure, when they were kids he’d put a baby gopher snake in her bed once, and he’d booby-trapped her lunch box a few times, and then there was the crank call where he’d pretended to be that guy from Dirty Dancing, Patrick Swayze, singing “I Had the Time of My Life.”

  But she’d pulled her share on him, too. She’d dumped red food coloring in the washing machine, staining all his white briefs pink, and she’d lined up beer bottles on his bedroom windowsill so his dad had thought he’d been in his room drinking like a fish. Then she’d stolen the centerfold out of one of his magazines and made him buy it back with three sacks of Gummy Bears.

  He’d thought they were about even. But they were far from even now, and he had no clue how to settle the score, other than tattling on her. And he wasn’t about to do that.

  The fact was, he hurt. He hurt really bad. At some point during last night’s escapade he’d realized that he was in love with B.J., probably always had been. He figured it out when he discovered she was wearing the red suede vest and chaps from that televised riding gig she’d done a few years back.

  He remembered that riding demonstration perfectly—how proud she’d been of the show, how excited about the beautiful outfit she’d bought. And she’d looked fantastic in that arena. He might have asked her out after seeing that production if he hadn’t still been hung up on the sister-brother relationship they’d always had.

  She’d blown that illusion all to hell in the cave. Once he’d learned that she’d sacrificed her beautiful suede outfit to give him a sexual thrill, he’d decided that the two of them had something pretty special going on. He’d let himself name the emotion that filled his heart whenever he thought of B.J.

  Then she’d squashed all hope that his tender feelings would ever be returned when she confessed she’d never planned to tell him who she was. The reason should be obvious, she’d said. God, how that hurt.

  He had to ask Noah for a few days off, so he could slap some mental bandages over his gaping wounds. Noah had been wanting someone to drive up to Payson and look at a stud they were considering breeding to Imelda next year. A trip like that could be good for three days if he worked it right. Dragging himself out of bed, he took his pounding head and broken heart into the shower.

  BY MIDMORNING B.J. hadn’t seen hide-nor-hair of Jonas, which was fine with her. She’d also come up with a reason to leave the ranch for a few days, so she sought out Noah, who was taking advantage of the sunshine to fix some broken shingles on the main house.

  Climbing the ladder, she called over to him.

  He paused and glanced at her, tilting his hat to the back of his head. “What’s up?”

  “You know how you’ve been saying someone should take a look at that stud in Payson?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If you think you can spare me for two or three days, I thought I’d drive up there and check him out. I can take some pictures and get an idea of his temperament.”

  Noah grinned. “Great minds must think alike. Jonas suggested going up there not ten minutes ago. You two wanna flip for it?”

  At his casual mention of Jonas’s plans, B.J.’s stomach clenched. If she had this kind of reaction when someone happened to say his name, she was in big trouble. But she’d known that.

  She cleared her throat. “If Jonas is planning on going, that’s fine. I don’t have to go.” It didn’t really matter which one of them took off, so long as they didn’t have to see each other for a while. “When’s he leaving?”

  “Pretty soon, I think. Listen, B.J., you’ve been working harder than Jon
as. It’s a hell of a lot cooler up in the pine country, so if you want a break I’ll tell him to stay home.”

  “No!” That was the last thing she wanted. But she needed to talk to him before he left to make sure he wouldn’t reveal their secret. “I wouldn’t mind having him bring back some pine cones, though, so I can make wreaths again this Christmas. I’ll go ask him about it.”

  “I imagine he’s in the house throwing some clothes into a suitcase.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go check.” She was shaking so badly she nearly fell off the ladder as she climbed back down. She paused at the bottom and took several deep breaths. All she needed to ask was that he not tell anyone. Then she could leave. No big discussion required. Just her request and his answer. That was it. She could do this.

  As usual, she went in the kitchen door. On her way through she gave a smile and a cheery greeting to Lupita, who was making tortillas. “I need to talk to Jonas,” she said by way of explanation. She hoped Lupita hadn’t noticed the tremor in her voice.

  “He’s down the hall, packing to leave,” Lupita said. “Wish we could all go up to the mountains.”

  “Yeah, it would be nice.” B.J. started for the hallway before she lost her nerve. “Jonas!” she called on her way to his bedroom. “I need to ask you something.”

  He appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, his dark eyes heavy-lidded, his expression grim. “What?”

  She couldn’t understand why he had to look so sexy right at this moment, or why her throat had to close up when she’d been perfectly capable of speech when she’d passed through the kitchen.

  “What do you want, B.J.?” he asked quietly, his gaze neutral.

  She would have thought he was calm, except that his knuckles were white where he was gripping the doorjamb. Her one-sentence speech left her mind. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He shrugged. “Easy come, easy go.”

  She struggled to remember what she’d come to say. “I wanted to ask that you…not say anything. To anybody.”

  Neutrality slipped away and anger flared in his brown eyes. His response was thick with fury. “How could you even think I would?”