Wicked Pleasures

A long silence and then she asked, “Have you thought of looking for him?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Closure, I suppose.”

“I’m not even sure he knows he has a son.”

“Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

“What?” He stared at her.

“I guess I worded that wrong—wouldn’t you want to know if you had a son out there?”

He’d never quite looked at it that way before.

The truth was, his mother had never really mentioned his father outside of saying he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him. He had been a one-night stand. And both his parents had been no more than sixteen at the time. Linc had been raised by his aunt.

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken the words out loud until Regina asked, “What happened to your mom?”

Lord. Had he ever told anyone this before? He must have at some point. But damned if he could remember. Which made it doubly interesting that he was sharing the information so easily with Regina.

“She moved to L.A. when I was an infant. I barely saw her while I was growing up. I talk to her every now and again, but for all intents and purposes, my aunt has always been my maternal figure.”

Her arm brushed against his and then she was entwining her fingers with his. He was glad for the touch and squeezed her hand. The desire to squeeze much, much more was growing with every step they took.

“My mom and I were always close,” she said quietly. “I miss her now we’re so far apart.”

“She still in Maine?”

She nodded and then looked in the opposite direction as if to keep him from seeing her expression. “I keep trying to talk her into moving out here with me, but…well, she says that’s where she was born, that’s where they’ll bury her.”

She looked sad somehow. Alone.

And Linc was surprised by the desire to protect her that surged within him.

Before he knew that’s what he had in mind, he was tugging her close and tilting her chin up so he could look directly into her face. Her mouth hung open slightly, both in surprise and, he guessed, anticipation.

He kissed her.

REGINA’S EVERY MUSCLE melted like a marshmallow over a fire. Funny, Linc seemed to taste exactly like that. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she understood that it was because he’d had a piece of Trudy’s chocolate-marshmallow pie. But right then, she couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything beyond the way her heart pounded an uneven rhythm in her chest, and how her mouth watered with the desire for Linc to deepen the kiss.

Then he did…

His tongue stroked hers in a slow, deliberate way that robbed her of breath and made her tighten her hands where they rested on the hard muscles of his upper arms. He leaned into her and she discovered, with a silent moan, that his arms weren’t the only hard thing she was able to feel.

The memory of having taken his long, thick length into her mouth the night before might have made her blush…but not now. Right now, all that was on her mind was the desire to enjoy tasting him without the blurriness of drink.

“Damn,” he said quietly as he broke off the kiss but made no move to resume walking.

“What?” she whispered.

He looked into her eyes and the impact was just as powerful as his kiss had been.

“I never thought I’d hear myself say these words. Your place or mine?”

Her throat was so thick she nearly couldn’t speak. “Which is closest?” she managed to whisper.

“Yours.”

“Then mine it is…”

LINC HAD BEEN THINKING about this moment ever since forcing himself to push Regina away the night before. And it was proving sweeter than he could have imagined.

Twenty minutes after their kiss on the sidewalk, they stood in her bedroom, a small lamp from the living room casting a soft, red glow against her skin where she stood naked in front of him. The moment they closed the front door, they’d come together like a couple of thirsty travelers, kissing and tearing at each other’s clothes as they stumbled their way to the bedroom.

And now here they both stood, about to fulfill what had begun the instant their gazes met at the club last night.

Regina’s fingers skimmed around the girth of his erection and then firmly grasped him. The air hissed from his mouth at her confident touch. She moved her hand, causing his hips to buck involuntarily.

He wanted to be inside her. Now…

He drew her closer, kissing her deeply, reveling in the feel of her taut nipples against his chest, her hand trapped between them. He skimmed his fingers down her back and over her firm bottom, then sought out her shallow channel from behind. He groaned without sound. So wet…so ready…

“Protection,” she rasped.

He continued kissing her. “What?”

“Condom. Do you have one?”

God, she tasted like ripe fruit. “No. Don’t you?”

She made a low sound and then stepped back, leaving him practically panting in front of her.

“Oh, hell. You’ve got to be kidding me.” He ran his hands over the top of his close-cropped hair several times in barely concealed agitation.

This wasn’t happening. Not twice in as many nights. If he were a superstitious man, he might think the Fates were trying to tell him something. But he wasn’t and even if they were, he had no intention of listening.

“There doesn’t happen to be a drugstore that delivers, would there?”

Her laugh released a bit of his pent-up need. “Nope. Although that’s a good idea. Think of the business they’d get.”

Damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn.

He reached for his jeans that were near the bedroom door. Leaving her standing there, looking so ready to be made love to, had to be the most difficult thing he’d done in a good long while.

“Where’s the closest place?”

“About a mile up the road.”