Red-Hot Nights: Daring in the Dark

Circulation. Another man’s bed was what he meant. And obviously he had no intention of or interest in being that man. Yet another dose of humiliation washed over her.

Why hadn’t she simply kept her mouth shut? Why had she let a few erotic dreams and one helluva live kiss convince her she and Simon had chemistry?

Obviously all the chemistry was in her head—as in chemical imbalance. Obviously he was willing to photograph her. Obviously he’d been offering her comfort earlier and she’d misread the situation. And now obviously she needed to put some freaking clothes on and try to maintain a few shreds of dignity until the power was restored and Simon was out her door. And out of her life.

“You’re right. A little circulation will take care of that for me.” She aimed for light and laughing, but it came out stiff and abrupt. She was precariously close to total humiliation. “Let me put some clothes back on.”

She headed for her closet. Maybe she could spend an hour or so in there—except it was dark. She’d never let herself get caught without a flashlight ever again.

“Tawny—”

Simon touched her bare shoulder. She froze outside while heat filled her on the inside. “Simon, please don’t touch me.”

“That’s not what you said a moment ago.”

She ached for him. And what was the small matter of pride? She’d already humiliated herself. “You know what I mean. I’m not sure that I can stand for you to touch me and not take it any further. And since you’re not interested in going there, it’s best if you simply don’t touch me at all.”

His hand remained on her shoulder. Yearning like nothing she’d ever known before filled her. She wanted him with a desperation that bordered on obsession.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.” His fingers moved against her bare skin in a featherlight caress. “I just don’t want you to regret this tomorrow.”

Moving in slow motion, she turned to face him. “I’m not looking for forever. I want you for tonight. I know you’re in love with someone else. Let me be her for you tonight.”

“You would sleep with me, knowing I may very well pretend you’re someone else?”

She lifted her chin a notch. “Yes. You turn me on that much.” She wasn’t exactly shy and retiring to begin with, but there was a fantastic quality to being in her candlelit bedroom with Simon. She said things she would never have been bold enough to say in the harsh light of day. “I’ll take whatever you’re offering, except I don’t particularly want to be a pity lay.”

“You won’t be standing in for anyone. This is about me and you. I wouldn’t insult you by pretending you were anyone other than who you are.” He tilted her head back with one finger beneath her chin and stared hard into her eyes. There wasn’t a shred of pity in his eyes. They burned with a heat and a leashed passion for her. “And I don’t want to be a revenge lay.”

“Never,” she said, winding her arms around his neck, feeling the corded tension of his body, already wet for him, hungering for his touch. “This isn’t payback.”

She wanted to quench this desire for Simon that consumed her and she wanted him to make her feel like a desirable woman. Right or wrong, she needed a little sexual validation.

He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Is this really what you want, Tawny? Are you certain you want me? Because stopping will be torture once I touch you, taste you.”

She leaned into him, unerringly fitting her hips to his. His cock was rock-hard against her mound, offering instant validation and stimulation. Her panties were drenched and her body was on fire. She rubbed her bare breasts against his shirt, delighting in the soft cotton against her aroused nipples. She breathed in his male scent and nuzzled his jaw. His breath quickened.

“Yes, I’m absolutely certain I want you. And I don’t want you to stop. I want you naked on top of me—” she nibbled at his earlobe “—beneath me—” she teased the tip of her tongue along the rim “—beside me—” he shuddered against her “—behind me—” want thickened her voice and strummed through her body “—but most of all inside me.”

HER WORDS AND HER TOUCH destroyed every defense he’d erected. He stood to lose the only friend he’d ever really had, Elliott, by sleeping with Tawny. But he’d trade his friendship and essentially his sense of honor, all of his tomorrows, for one night with her, to hold her, touch her, make love to her. And if he was a lesser man for this decision, he had the rest of his life to deal with it. Perhaps he’d dine on the bitter fruit of regret with tomorrow’s dawn, but for tonight she was his.

He slid his camera to the floor, dropping the strap.

“Tawny …”

He cradled her head in his hands. Without rushing, he kissed her gently, thoroughly, an unspoken promise that for the night, they belonged to each other. He told her in a kiss all the things that he couldn’t or wouldn’t say aloud—how much he wanted her, how beautiful he found her both inside and out, that among women she alone was the most desirable, that for years he’d carried the Hades analogy in his head and she had become his Persephone, but after tonight he’d release her, after offering and taking solace in her.

She returned his kiss, melded into him, connected with his soul.

The kiss heated, shifted to a higher intensity as she slid her hands beneath his shirt, greedily stroking his bare skin. Her touch ignited him. He reached between them and cupped her breasts in his hands, plying his thumbs against her nipples. She felt so good. Tawny pressed against him and moaned into his open mouth, and Simon was lost, gone. He sank onto the edge of the bed, pulling her down with him, between his thighs.

She followed, settling between his legs.

“It seems as if I’ve waited forever to touch you,” she said. She pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw while she explored his chest with her hands, bold strokes that fanned the fire inside him hotter and higher.

She reached for his belt and his jeans.

“Wait a sec. Let me take off my boots,” Simon said. Tawny stood. He bent down and unlaced his boots—infinitely better than winding up with his trousers around his ankles. Tawny stripped out of her shorts and skimpy panties, dropping them on the floor in front of him. He pulled off the second Doc Martens and looked up.

He was glad he was sitting for his first view of her gloriously, spectacularly naked. She was every inch rounded woman, from shapely legs, to curved hips, to a small waist and full breasts. And obviously a proponent of the Brazilian wax.

Desire slammed him, tightened his balls. “You’re so beautiful, you take my breath.”

She smiled and there was a shyness about it that touched him. She slid onto the bed behind him and laughed softly, her breath warm against his bare shoulder. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and nuzzled his neck, her breasts pressed against his back. Her touch sizzled along his nerve endings.

“I’m glad I’m not sending you running out the door,” she said.

“Not a chance.” He undressed and she pulled him back down onto the bed with her.

He rolled over and trapped her beneath him, his arms on either side of her shoulders. Her eyes darkened and she parted her lips, wetting the fullness of her lower lip with the tip of her tongue.

“The only thing that could possibly send me running is—” he lowered his head and tasted the sweetness of her neck, her shoulder “—if you tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

“No. That … won’t … happen.” She arched her back, raising herself, inviting his kisses. Bathed in candlelight, her skin gleamed like a rare pearl. He licked the hollow of her throat and chased her shudder with his own. Her scent, the slight saltiness of her skin, the taste of her. He wanted to make love to her all night, learn every inch of her with his mouth, his tongue, his hands. But he’d wanted her so long, he didn’t think he could wait much longer this first time around. He circled one plump nipple with his tongue. She moaned deep in her throat.

“Simon …” Tawny said in an agonized tone.

He flicked the other one with the tip of his tongue and then moved back to the first one—tasting her, tormenting them both.

They were both slick with sweat and her skin slid against his, her thigh cushioning the length of his erection.

She rolled him onto his back and kissed him as if she couldn’t get enough. Her tongue dueled with his. Her hands explored him, almost frantic, and she made small whimpering noises in the back of her throat, leaving him hotter and harder. She seemed to want him as much as he wanted her. She rolled to her side again, pulling him with her, reaching behind her without taking her mouth from his. Simon broke the kiss.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Reaching for a condom.”

He was such a dolt, he’d forgotten all about protection. That had never happened. He’d always been careful. That she kept a stock on hand wasn’t particularly surprising, considering her battery-powered arsenal.

She looked at him, her eyes luminous, hot. “I’m so afraid this is another dream,” she said. “I don’t want to wake up. Because if I do, I’m going to be righteously pissed.”

Simon laughed. She had the most unorthodox way of flattering him, but he was immeasurably flattered that she didn’t want to wake up if she was dreaming.

“No. We’re not dreaming,” he said, stroking his hand down her back, over the lush curve of her bum. Reality had never been so sweet.

She held a condom aloft in triumph. “Strawberry flavored.” She tore into the package. “Mind if I do the honors?”

“Please. Feel free to,” he said.