Taurus

The Zodiac Series Taurus Dee S. Knight and Maggie Casper Published 2005 ISBN 1-59578-112-9 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2005, Dee S. Knight and Maggie Casper. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://lsbooks.com Email: [email protected] Cover Art by April Martinez This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Book One Safe Sex Dee S. Knight Chapter One Cynthia Williams, dressed to stun in three-inch heels, silk blouse and suede skirt, walked into The Starlight Room. Incongruously, she carried a folded newspaper under her arm and stood at the arch separating the lounge from the dining area, studying the patrons seated at the dark mahogany bar along the wall. She searched for the man with a newspaper under his arm. It seemed a cliché, really, to meet a blind date this way, but it had been his suggestion and she’d thought, what the hell? The bartender was efficient in handling the few early customers, spread out as they were. No one occupied the tables dotted around the small area. Cynthia immediately discounted the man moving his hand down a woman’s back to her butt in what he might have thought was a surreptitious, seductive move. By the look on his companion’s face, he was likely to discover soon that it was neither. The man on the other side of the lone female customer prepared to leave by picking up a briefcase, not a newspaper. Next in line were broad shoulders enclosed in a tweed jacket. Elbows on the bar, the man cradled a crystal glass holding two fingers of an amber liquid. His stare reflected in the mirror behind the bar was dispassionate, but Cynthia found him intriguing nonetheless. Perhaps because of the lack of emotion. Lines bracketed his eyes, indicating he hadn’t sat on the sidelines of life, although he wasn’t old--maybe late thirties or early forties. Short, light brown hair showed no gray. In the conventional sense, he wasn’t handsome. Cheeks, forehead, chin and nose were all rough but strong, and that produced a quality of handsomeness all its own. Cynthia found herself wishing he was her date, but there was no newspaper under his arm. Damn! Maybe her date hadn’t arrived yet, she thought, as she quickly examined the other occupants. She first passed over and then returned to a slim man in a suit, sitting near the end. Perched on the edge of his stool, poking his glasses up onto his nose and smiling at no one in particular, he looked like a puppy anxious for someone to take him out. The very antithesis of the other man. Oh, dear. The tell-tale newspaper was tucked securely under his left arm. Cynthia stepped into the bar to meet her fate. The man’s eyes lighted when he spied her, and he hopped off the stool to approach. In addition to an argyle sweater vest and plaid bow tie, the man had a cowlick on the crown of his head that looked wet. Evidently he’d tried to tame the hair, but without success. She held out her hand when he reached her. A wide grin split his face and he held up the newspaper, proving he was the man she sought. As if she had any doubt--this was the way her dating life had gone for months. Then he took her hand. “Hello,” she said. “If you’re Vern, I’m Cynthia.” “Who are you if I’m not Vern?” the suit asked, laughing at his own joke and giving her hand a polite shake. It was going to be a long night. “Out of here.” She allowed a small smile to brace herself. Oh, if only, if only, if only... He laughed again, a cross between a giggle and cackle. “Then I’m Vern. Pleased to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” I hope so, anyway. Looking over her shoulder, he nodded to someone. “Our table is ready. Thank you for being punctual. So many women aren’t.” Yup, punctual, that’s me. They followed the maitre d’hotel to their table and when he moved away, Cynthia pulled out her own chair, too late realizing that Vern had moved behind her to do it. Damn again! She hadn’t meant to be rude, but she was used to seating herself. One of the problems with being independent was that it often intimidated men when she showed she didn’t need to be pampered. From the look on Vern’s face, it had just happened again. “Sorry,” she murmured, as he sat across from her. He frowned, then settled his shoulders with a sigh and his face eased. Looking over Vern’s shoulder, she found herself facing the bar and the stare of the man who’d intrigued her. His look was anything but dispassionate now. In fact, lightning-like heat arced the distance separating them. Her breath caught as he lifted his glass in salute before turning around. Even then, his eyes met hers in the mirror, holding her captive with their intensity. Just her luck to be seated so that she faced both her fantasy and reality. Poor Vern. He might be a very nice guy but he could only suffer in comparison. “Cynthia?” Vern tapped her arm with his newspaper. “Cynthia, are you all right?” “What?” With effort, she shifted her gaze to Vern’s. There was no heat, no earth-shattering intensity displayed in his soft gray irises, only curiosity. “I’m sorry, Vern. I thought I saw someone I recognized.” Only half a lie. In fact, the power in the stranger’s gaze was much like she’d read about in romances, where soul mates knew each other immediately, drew together and resisted any and all efforts to tear them apart. If she believed in romance, or love at first sight, or soul mates, she’d be beside that man like a shot. As it was, whatever attraction she felt for him made no sense. If she were going to be fair to Vern, she’d have to keep her eyes off the man at the bar. “Where?” Vern twisted in his chair to look behind him. “Oh, never mind. It wasn’t anyone.” Cynthia picked up her menu. “This is a very nice place. Have you eaten here before?” Facing forward again, Vern smiled. “A few times,” he said. “As soon as I found out your birthday from Julie I knew this was where we should meet.” He leaned forward. “I know you’re a Taurus.” “I am?” Smiling her thanks at the young man filling her glass with water, she fought to keep from looking into the bar to see if he was still watching. Then she snapped her head to Vern. “Julie told you my birth date?” “Oh, not the year, don’t worry about that. But the month and day, sure. I had to know if our signs were compatible. And we are--you’re Taurus and I’m Pisces. I know you really enjoy the finer things in life, including candlelit dinners. I like romance, too, and while I could have cooked you a gourmet meal at home, I thought you’d like this setting better for our first date.” Cynthia stared. He seemed so earnest she didn’t have the heart to tell him that dinner from a hotdog vendor was romantic with the right person. For the two of them, even this expensive, impressive evening would amount to nothing more than one event.

“I wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for you.” He pushed his glasses up and blushed. “That’s very nice of you, Vern.” And it was. For the right woman, Vern would be quite a prize. Too bad it wasn’t her. Feeling guilty, knowing the evening was going nowhere after all the trouble and thought he’d put into it, Cynthia took in the setting. The Starlight Room was designed with seduction in mind, whether for business deals or more personal propositions. Dimly lit, with the tables spaced well apart and thick carpeting and curtained walls keeping extraneous sound to a minimum, conversational privacy was ensured. Overhead, a depiction of the night sky, a rich midnight blue dotted with stars--really hundreds of tiny lamps inset in the gently rounded ceiling--continued the illusion. Soft lighting and candles further added to the ambience. If only Vern could prove worthy of the atmosphere. Like she somehow knew the man at the bar would. Sighing, she resisted the temptation to check her watch, but not the lounge area. He met her inquisitive glance, via the mirror. Surely the distance was such that she couldn’t really see the glint of desire in his eyes or his head tilt back as though to seek her scent. It was impossible. Yet, she would have sworn it happened. Self-consciously, she reached her hand to smooth the chignon resting at her nape and tug the collar points of her lavender silk blouse. She was awfully warm, but feared her elevated temperature had nothing to do with the restaurant thermostat. Forcing her attention back to the man sitting across the table rather than the one calling her silently in the next room, she smiled. “So, Vern,” she started. “You’re interested in astrology.” “Oh, much more than interested.” He broke off when the waiter approached. “May I take your order?” Cynthia looked at Vern. He gave her a look that said, “Watch this.” His chest puffed out as he adopted an authoritative tone, ordering dinner, the wine, even dressing for the salad, all without consulting her. And in French, which she wasn’t sure the waiter completely understood. Of course, she had to admit the wine he’d chosen would be superb with lapin. But couldn’t he have asked if she preferred rabbit to chicken? Irritation competed with guilt as the money he was spending on their date mounted. “Now, back to astrology,” he said. “I consult a professional and never make a move personally or professionally without consulting my chart.” “I don’t know anything about charts or such. I’ve always considered astrology to be such a f...” Just in time she stopped herself from saying feminine. “--fascinating topic. Really, fascinating.” Cynthia had never before met a man caught up in such farce. But she didn’t want to make him feel bad. Vern preened at her words of interest. “It is indeed fascinating. Not many people appreciate that fact. For instance, we’ve never met but I can tell you a great deal about yourself.” “Oh, like what?” Not that she believed, but if he talked, it would relieve her of having to converse. She hated feeling mean, and truly tried to look interested. How could she be so sure they had no chemistry, and Vern be so clueless? “Like...” He stared at her, his fingers steepled under his chin. “You’re intensely loyal, sticking with friends or ideas long after you should give them up, sometimes missing other opportunities. You like luxury, romance and all of the accoutrements of both, although...” he flicked his wrist, indicating The Starlight Room “--this is a bit extreme since you’re also a thrifty person. I just wanted to impress you with the most romantic spot I knew of, I guess.” He smiled. Guiltily, she smiled, giving him leave to

continue. “I’ll bet you routinely shop at the Goodwill.” Cynthia cocked her head, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. “There’s nothing wrong with the items at Goodwill. Why spend more than...” She squirmed in her seat. “Not that I do, of course, but as a matter of principle...” Chuckling, he continued. “Pinching pennies is okay, although chances are, your perseverance will ensure you’re successful and don’t need to. Let’s see. You are stubborn to the extreme and don’t like to be pushed into anything, preferring to come to terms with change in your own time. I’ll bet you were the final person in your group to use a cell phone, for instance. You’re practical and give sensible gifts, or gifts from the heart, homemade.” Somewhat impressed despite her skepticism, Cynthia thought of the number of bread and cookie baskets she put together for Christmas every year for her friends. “I’ll bet you’re in a job that requires attention to detail, right?” “Banking,” she said. “I’m in banking.” A small stretch. Well, okay, a giant stretch, but her job did require attention to detail. “Excellent choice of profession. Taureans are generally quiet and a bit shy. I’m almost surprised you go on blind dates, but I’m glad you agreed to meet me, Cynthia.” In fact, she hated blind dates, but besides the fact that she often intimidated men with her independence and drive, there was the problem of time. It took time to develop a comfort level for a man to ask a woman out, and for months she hadn’t had that luxury. At least now she knew why there had been no previous long-lasting relationships. Obviously none of the men had been the right sign. Maybe if she consulted an astrologer before agreeing to a date she could save a lot of headaches. Or not. After all, supposedly she and Vern were compatible. The waiter returned with an ice bucket and bottle of champagne, which he opened and poured before leaving them. Vern held out his glass in a toast. “To the sensual Taurus and the romantic Pisces. May each find joy in exploring the other.” He tapped his glass with hers. Oh, she thought, how sweet. He really was a nice man, and quite the gentleman. She clinked her glass against his and smiled. Maybe this evening was going to be okay after all. Vern grinned. “And I really mean that, Cynthia. No bull.” His giggle-cackle rang through the intimate, reserved dining room, causing wait staff and diners to turn toward their table. “Do you get it?” he asked, gulping for air. “Taurus is a bull.” Set off again, he could barely manage to add, “You may be a bull, but there’s something fishy about me. Pisces, get it?” He almost slapped the table in his mirth. Over Vern’s shoulder, Mystery Man was staring at her, his expression full of amusement. Yeah, she got it. **** After what must have been the longest hour of her life--it certainly had been of his--Bill Hawk saw the woman rise and head toward the bathrooms. Tossing a twenty on the bar, he swallowed the last bit of his Scotch and headed that direction himself, determined before he left to do more than lust after her across a room. He wanted to lust up close and personal. When she came out of the ladies room he was holding the wall up, waiting.

“Oh!” Looking surprised, she stopped short when she saw him. “Hello. I thought after the stares we’ve exchanged all evening we should at least meet.” He held out his hand. “I’m Bill, and you’re...?” She backed up a step. “With someone else.” When she tried to slip by him, his training took over automatically. He hadn’t been a Marine for nothing. If he couldn’t stop a beautiful woman from escaping him in a narrow little hall, then he should just hang his head and tell people he retired from the Army instead of embarrassing the Corps. “Yes, so I’ve noticed,” Bill murmured, blocking her exit. “Your companion seems okay for dinner and a few laughs...” he caught her sardonic look “--but you’ve eaten and had coffee and you can call it a night with Mr. Fun Guy. Are you ready to leave with a real man?” “Know where I can find one?” She cocked her brows over penetrating green eyes and crossed her arms. Aha, a challenge. “Without doubt.” If it was a pissing contest she wanted, well, he could piss with the best of them. But a pissing contest was most definitely not what he wanted, not with this woman. She snorted a laugh, then looked up to meet his gaze. The laugh faded away. Admittedly, even after the heated looks they’d exchanged all evening, he wasn’t prepared either for the fire that threatened to singe them. He leaned down, letting his eyes drop to her lips. His target. “I’ll meet you outside after you get rid of that guy.” Scant millimeters separated them. Her breath was soft on his mouth. The tease of a fragrance rose with her body’s warmth. She was going to kiss him. He was going to kiss her. It was inevitable and right. But... She pulled back. “I’m with someone. He’s been a gentleman and a pleasant dinner partner. He comes recommended by a friend and the stars. All you’ve done is stare at me all evening. Who recommends you?” Straightening, he struggled to come up with a good answer as well as to force his cock into good behavior. “Well, I don’t know any Hollywood types like your friend does, but I have managed to get you invited to a very important party. My friends--not stars but all members in good standing of San Francisco’s elite middle class--will be happy to put in a good word for me, I’m sure.” She smiled. “It’s not those kind of stars.” Easing away, she didn’t break eye contact. “I’m not sure I could take the word of your friends. Not exactly unbiased sources. Party, huh?” “Yes, it’s May 30 and you know what that is.” At her headshake, he pretended to be appalled. “Well, we really must fix that. Sergei will love having someone new for his birthday celebration. Come with me.” He tried for coaxing, seductive, and hoped he didn’t sound anxious, instead. Taking her bottom lip between her teeth she seemed to be considering the offer. Mr. Dick stirred once again as Bill took in the sight of her luscious lip gently held between her white teeth. He edged closer, hoping against hope to do the same. “It’s tempting, but...” she pursed her lips, making them even more appealing than they had been a short minute ago “--have I mentioned that I’m with someone?” God, she was stubborn. Once more she tried to brush past him, and once more he intercepted her path. Tilting her head back, she gazed at him. Her emerald eyes revealed the acquiescence that her words hadn’t, and he knew in that instant that she wanted to come with him regardless of what she said. So

why was she insisting on staying with that other guy? There was a time for loyalty and a time for destiny. Whoa! Back up a step, guy. Destiny is a big word. What was it about this woman that made him think destiny? She was delicate. Tiny, compared to his height of six-two. With the peach tinge in her fair complexion, that black, black hair tied in a knot on her neck, and the soft, flowing blouse she wore buttoned to the neck, she seemed prim, almost virginal. The tension in his groin ratcheted up another notch. He wanted to take her in his arms and protect her from all the bad stuff in the world. He wanted to make sure she had all she needed and all she wanted. He wanted to ... fuck her senseless, and then take care of her and provide for her. And then he knew he’d want to fuck her senseless again. Bill looked up the hall and down, then pushed open the door to the ladies bathroom. “What are you doing,” she gasped. With one hand on her shoulder, he spun her around and nudged her back where she’d come out of seconds ago. Thank God no one else was in there. “You can’t come in here.” She sounded so affronted that he couldn’t help but smile. “Really? Looks like I’m already here. Come with me.” The privacy afforded to customers in the dining room was carried through to the bathroom, with each stall its own little room. He hurried her toward the last stall then pulled her in behind him and threw the latch. It was small but adequate. He looked down to see her forehead screwed up in a frown and that bottom lip between her teeth again. Jesus Christ, he was out of his fucking mind. What in hell had he done? If he’d misjudged and she started screaming or something, he’d be up shit creek for sure. But he couldn’t have misjudged, not the fiery looks they’d shared or the invitation in her eyes a few seconds ago. Before he could analyze his actions any further, she rose on her toes and twisted her arms around his neck. She trailed her tongue across his lips and he parted them, welcoming her tongue, sucking it into his mouth. Her groan penetrated the fog of his mind, and he gave an answering call as his hands headed south to rub across the cheeks of her ass. “Oh my God, you taste good,” he said when he raised his head for breath. “You, too,” she panted. “I--I can’t believe I’m dong this, doing this in here. I mean I’ve never...” she gasped for breath as he struck a path with his lips along her jaw, then unbuttoned her top three buttons to lick her neck and nibble the swell of her breast. “I’ve never, with anyone like you. Do you know what you do to me?” he whispered, and it shocked the hell out of him to realize that he meant it. He never had done something like this with someone like her. Someone who defined sexiness and class and desire. It changed the experience from one of lust to something more, though what, exactly, he’d think about later. Right now all he wanted was to feel her on him and then him inside her. He placed her hand over his cock, which fairly jumped with excitement. “See?” Pushing and pulling, he used her hand to stroke the ridge straining to be released from his slacks. “I want you, want to be inside you. I’ve never wanted any woman in my life like I want you right now. Can I...? Do you want me, too?” Her breath was rapid. He had the feeling that if he didn’t hold her up she’d collapse, so he kept his arm

tight around her waist and close against him. On her own, she squeezed him, making the friction from her strokes impossible to bear much longer. She nodded against his chest. “Yes? Yes you want me?” She nodded again, then looked up at him with tears shimmering in her eyes. That stopped him cold. Taking her hand off his shaft, he grasped for control to keep from taking her, in spite of the tears. Instead, he kissed each finger and laid her hand over his heart, hoping she felt more than the simple beat that he knew to be fast and hard. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to force you into anything.” Shaking her head, she stared at him in amazement. “You don’t understand. It’s too much, and so fast--but this feels right. Since I first saw you I’ve felt like we’ve known each other, like there was something between us that could only come with...” She stopped, then dropped her eyes as well as her voice. “What I started to say sounds stupid. Anyway, I’m just being emotional. I don’t want to stop.” Stepping away enough to reach his belt, she pulled it loose, then unfastened and unzipped his slacks. In one move, she eased slacks and briefs down his thighs and squatted. Bill braced his hands against the stall walls as she swirled her tongue over the head of his dick before taking the whole mushroom-shaped bulb in her mouth. Pre-cum mixed with saliva and served to lubricate her way. Her head pushed forward, taking more of him in. One of her hands grasped the base of his shaft, where it waited to meet her questing mouth. The other stroked and squeezed his balls until he thought he’d shout from the pleasure. He did, in fact, moan and felt her mouth quiver on his cock, as though she were trying not to smile. Dropping a hand to her head, he sought to guide her, or at least hold her while his hips moved involuntarily back and forth, into her hot, wet mouth and out, but there was no need. She was a master at what she did and needed no guidance. Still, he felt the need for contact with her, and her head was all he cold reach, so he held on for his dear life. With each pass along his length, her tongue never stopped moving. She scraped him tenderly with her teeth, providing the barest hint of pain before her tongue rasped over the spot and her lips smoothed it. He’d never been given head like this before, and feared he never would again unless he formed a relationship with this woman, and that was just what he intended to do. “I can’t hold back any longer,” he whispered. “I can’t...” At that moment, the door to the bathroom opened and the rustling sound of clothing sounded. Bill held his breath and looked down at the woman holding his dick in her mouth. Summer-green eyes peered up at him just above the place where his cock disappeared in her mouth. He barely suppressed a groan, and her shoulders shook in her attempt to keep from laughing. She’d stopped moving but she swished her tongue across him. He literally jumped in her mouth. A toilet flushed, a stall door banged against the wall as the woman exited. Then water ran and turned off. The stranger hummed for a few seconds before finally the door opened again and closed on a soft whoosh. The moment his companion’s lips compressed on his shaft and she moved, he erupted, shooting streams of semen in her mouth and down her throat. Her head never stopped its thrust and withdrawal, although her strokes were short. It felt like hours before he emptied himself and she let him go. Reaching to help her stand, he wondered how he could ever repay her. A simple hand job wouldn’t be enough, not from his point of view, but with the logistics of where they were and without a rubber, he

didn’t think he could do much else. And Bill wanted to do much, much more. Women didn’t seem to appreciate how men felt about blowjobs in general, but the feeling tripled when the woman took all of him. He frankly didn’t know how to say thank you. “Thank you,” she murmured against his lips, when he lifted her into his arms to kiss her. “You’re thanking me? My God, you’re fantastic, a goddess--don’t you know?” He couldn’t stop himself from thrusting his tongue into her mouth, to taste her and himself. She wrapped one arm around his neck, but her other hand stroked his cheek, his ear, his shoulder. Suddenly he pulled back. “I don’t know your name.” Smiling, she let her eyes rove over his face, settling on his lips. “Cynthia.” “Cynthia.” He tried it out. “Cyn. Thanks for letting me spend a few minutes in Cyn.” Her smile lit his world and he couldn’t help but smile back. “And now I’d like to do something in return.” His hand slid up her leg under her skirt. She wore panty hose, but he was undeterred in his mission to make her feel even a fraction of the pleasure she’d given him. He held her off the floor; her head rested against the door as he nibbled and licked her throat. The door opened again. “Cynthia? Are you here?” It was a woman’s voice, but a man could be heard in the background. “Are you still in there, Cynthia? Are you sick? Should I ask this nice lady to come in and help you?” Bill raised his head. Cynthia’s eyes flew open. “Vern? Oh, I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I’m a little ... yes, I’m fine. No need to worry. I didn’t realize...” she took a trembling breath “--I’ll be right out. Go on back to the table.” “Well, okay, if you’re sure you’re all right.” A gaze like molten emeralds met Bill’s. “I’ve never been better, Vern, thanks.” As the door shut, mumbling could be heard. Soft, then softer as the two speakers, male and female, moved away. Bill continued to hold her. She cupped his cheek and smoothed her thumb over his skin. “Look, I already called and told my friends that I was running a little late because I was waiting for my date to finish her meeting. I’m parked right around the corner on Golden. You’ve got to come with me.” He dipped his head, taking her lips in what he hoped was a gentle, persuasive kiss. “It’s so unfair to Vern.” When he would protest she put her finger over his mouth. “But maybe.” “You’re very stubborn, you know that?” Taking her finger in his mouth, he ran his tongue over it. “I’ve been told that already tonight.” She smiled then cocked her head to look at him. “What’s your sign?” He chuckled. “My sign? I haven’t heard that line in a very long time. I’m not sure. It’s that thing with the stinger tail.” “A scorpion? But you don’t know anything about it?” “Never cared to know, why?”

Laughing, she finally dropped her legs. With surprising reluctance, he let go of her and stepped back to pull up his pants. “I never thought of scorpions in conjunction with sex before, but I won’t be able to help it from now on.” She smoothed her skirt and tucked loose strands of hair back in the bun. Bill buckled his belt and watched with longing. “Later tonight, I’m going to unpin your hair and take your clothes off of you. Then I’m going to sting you several times.” He put his arms around her. “I think both of us will get pleasure from it.” “I’m sure we would,” she said against his lips. “Will,” he said with finality. “Please come with me. I’ll wait as long as I can.” With a final fleeting kiss, she edged out. He heard the door open. “It’s clear,” she stage-whispered. Then the door closed. Thirty minutes later, Bill still leaned against a low-slung, silver Porsche, arms and ankles crossed, impatiently tapping his finger. Admitting at last that she wasn’t going to show, he climbed in and started the car. He could have marched back into the restaurant and dragged her out, but she knew where he was. Some crazy sense of duty was keeping her in there, and if she couldn’t do something about it to be with him, then that was that. Duty was something he understood and respected--usually--but damn it all, he hadn’t even gotten her last name. Kicking himself mentally, he allowed that maybe he’d been wrong all along. Perhaps she was the kind of woman who got off on a quick, anonymous blowjob. But he’d been certain there was more between them, as mystical and New Age as that shit seemed. The roar of the engine was a substitute for the roar he wanted to sound. Like most men, he’d been stood up before. But not in a very long time, and never by anyone he’d wanted to be with as much as he’d wanted to be with Cynthia. She was small, but her legs would have fit around his waist just fine. And he would have fit inside her just fine, too. With her size--and his--she was probably tight as a virgin, and wouldn’t that just have been Heaven on Earth? Surrounded by the leather interior of his car, his imagination took over. He smelled her arousal and felt her moist heat as her pussy muscles closed around his cock. With a fierceness that made him shake, he wanted her. Fuck! Tomorrow he went home to Nevada and the chances of ever seeing her again were nil. Of course, even in the short two years he’d lived in the state where gambling ruled, he’d learned the odds were against “never” really meaning never. Chapter Two A thin sliver of moon was the only thing lighting the back of Timothy’s Wild Sports Emporium, on a side street in Sympathy, Nevada. That’s because Cynthia had broken the security lights in the alleyway. Slingshots were low tech, but they were underestimated in their usefulness. Like a gunslinger of old, blowing on the barrel of his Colt before twirling it into his holster, she blew on the Y-shaped piece of wood with its rubber strap, and tucked it in her backpack. Darkness prevailed, making her even less visible than she already had been, in her black knit cap and skintight, black ski clothes and pack. Wasting no time, she moved to the door of the sporting goods shop and selected a couple of metal picks from a leather case attached to her belt. In seconds, the door opened and she slipped inside. Thanks to her posing earlier that day as an inspector for Upstate Insurance, she knew exactly where to

find the alarm panel. She shook her head in amazement at how easy it was to trick some people. A fake ID and calm, professional demeanor had convinced the store manager of her bona fides and he’d allowed her to stand beside him when he demonstrated arming and disarming the central system. Seeming not to watch as his stubby fingers pressed the buttons for the “secret” code, she had in fact, memorized the pattern. He’d been helpful in showing her other aspects of the store’s security and fire protection, too, walking her around the place and talking freely about how they didn’t need dogs and what the police patrol schedule was, as well as that of the guards when they were posted next door, where security was tighter than at Timothy’s. He’d thought the additional scrutiny in the bank that abutted his building enhanced the safety of his own shop. The poor man never gave a thought to the fact that Cynthia was really in Timothy’s Wild Sports Emporium to discover how to access the McKinley-Nevada Bank. Even though it was safe to move around after she’d disarmed the alarm, she kept to the shadows as she slipped into the storeroom. Every work area had a ladder of some kind, and this was no exception. She’d spotted it that afternoon, and now she dragged it to the corner of the room directly under a return for the ventilation system. A battery-powered drill removed the screws holding the faceplate. Looking into a hole two and a half feet by two feet, she blessed the long hours at Lady Power Gyms that kept her trim and in shape. She took off her knit cap and fitted a white air filter mask over her mouth and nose, hooking the elastic band behind her head. Tucking her hair under the cap, she mentally prepared herself to face the trek through the square pipe. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but neither did she enjoy enclosed spaces. Removing a piece of felt from her backpack, she reached up to lay it in the vent and put the pack on it before taking the last two steps on the ladder. Shoulder-height into the vent, she used her arms to pull herself the rest of the way up. Cynthia visualized the plans she’d looked up at the city clerk’s office. The two buildings were almost a century old, and when air conditioning had been added decades ago, the ductwork was shared as was a wall and foundation. This particular duct led to a T-intersection. The stem of the T dropped below ground, intersecting again with a duct that ended inside the safe. The vent opening inside the safe was small, so she had chosen to make her entrance in the safe room, outside the actual vault. The only things standing between her and the old Smithton 360H safe containing hundreds of thousands of dollars were a few steel bars--easily dealt with--a computer system that wasn’t quite into the twenty-first century, and a twelve-foot vertical drop. The safe itself would be a piece of cake. “Coconut cake,” she whispered under her breath. “A big, fat piece once I get this job behind me and don’t have to worry about every ounce of me fitting into small holes in ceilings.” Shimmying along the vent, she silently pushed her backpack, placed on a piece of felt to dampen noise, ahead of her. A faint ripple of her whisper echoed off the metal walls of the vent and she slammed her mouth shut. The chance that she might alert someone to her presence with a whisper was slim, but still not an acceptable risk. For what felt like an hour, she crawled, pushed and pulled her way from the sporting goods shop to the point where a brick wall separated the two buildings, marked by four steel bars. Here was the first of her obstacles. The four steel cylinders barred her path horizontally, each end piercing the vent through an air-tight seal set in the brick and mortar of the wall. From her pack she carefully removed a box. Under the lid, nestled in Styrofoam cut to its shape, lay a vial of acid powerful enough to cut through any metal, including the steel facing her. She held her breath. Using a glass dropper, she applied the acid to the ends of the bottom three rods, then scooted back, away from any fumes, as the acid did its job. When the burning was finished, Cynthia

pulled at the bars until they broke off where the acid had weakened them. To avoid unnecessary noise, she wrapped the metal in another piece of felt from her pack. She attached a carabiner and climbing rope to the remaining bar, then dragged the free end of the rope along with her as she continued into the bank. Another ten feet or so brought her to the vertical section of ductwork and a tricky maneuver. After reversing herself in the confined area, she dropped feet-first down the hole, her backpack slung over one shoulder and her hands controlling her descent with the rope. She turned to her right when her feet touched the basement-level vent. Straight ahead was the faceplate for the vent in the safe room. Pulling back her sleeve, she checked the time on her luminescent watch dial. It had taken only twenty-five minutes to get this far. She wanted to laugh, she was so far ahead of the schedule she’d set for herself. Nothing could stop her now. After crawling to the opening, she took out her battery-powered tool again, this time fitting it with a blade. Donning protective glasses, she cut a foot square from the side of the vent, revealing wiring--for the computer system controlling the time lock for the safe and the camera in the safe room. She attached an alligator clip to the wire for the safe and plugged in the other end to a small handheld computer with a timer program. Control of the time lock was now hers. Another clip fed the current image from the camera into the computer where it was stored and looped back out. A small flicker on the video screen is all the guard would see--if he didn’t blink at the wrong time. There was nothing to cause alarm. She laughed at her pun. But she would wait five more minutes, just to be sure. There was no rush now that the only thing left before her was actually cracking the safe. “Yup, piece of coconut cake,” she murmured. **** Another early night. One would think he was old instead of just reaching his fortieth birthday. Bill knew it wasn’t age catching up to him, though, it was simply a lack of interest in doing what he was doing. After years of being in the Corps, sometimes longing for the ordinary, he now found himself barely out two years and wishing for excitement. The life of a fine, upstanding bank president wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. But doing something wild and crazy here in town was out of the question. Shit, thinking like that made him feel old. Bringing the Jeep to a halt at a traffic light, he reached up to loosen his tie. The most interesting thing that had happened in quite a while was going to his friend’s birthday party in San Francisco last month. Correction. The most interesting thing had been meeting Cynthia before the party. If he could have enticed her to come along, the party itself would have been much better. Even so, when getting together with old friends was the most thrilling thing to happen, life was pretty damn sad. A loud-pitched beep cut the silence of the Jeep, making Bill jump in surprise. Sonuvabitch! That was the emergency alarm he’d put in place to notify him if anything interrupted the vault computer system. He dug a handheld computer out of his jacket pocket and ended the signal. What was that all about? The light turned and he pulled to the curb. Pressing keys and reading messages displayed on the tiny screen, he checked the integrity of the bank computer system. Everything looked normal but the system had been interrupted, or the alarm wouldn’t have gone off. He pulled his cell phone from the other pocket and called the guard. “George, what’s going on there?” The guard sputtered. “Uh, nothing, Mr. Hawk. I just finished my nine o’clock round and everything was

in good shape. Why?” “You haven’t noticed anything unusual with the cameras or the safe or anything?” “No, sir, everything’s just fine here.” “Okay, George. Thanks.” He disconnected, but sat there tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel. His gut told him something was up. Checking traffic before making a U-turn, he enumerated all of the reasons why there was no need to go to the bank, as though logic played some part in the decision to go. He’d put that emergency program into place when he took over the bank presidency from his uncle. No one else even knew he’d implemented the program. In fact, he’d forgotten it himself. The damn alarm had never gone off before tonight, and tonight was probably a glitch. He was only going to check it out because he hadn’t wanted to stay at the award dinner and he didn’t want to go home alone. Yeah, that was the reason--that and the nervous twitch in his stomach. Fifteen minutes later Bill strode into the bank and to the security room just off the lobby. “Mr. Hawk.” George jumped to his feet, practically spilling his coffee. Bill nodded his greeting. “George, I’m sure you’re right about everything being fine, but I’m just going to make a quick run through and then do some work.” He stepped behind the guard and took a look at the video monitors showing feed from the cameras posted around the building. Everything looked exactly as it should. “No need to come with me, and once I get in the office I’ll be awhile, so don’t worry if I don’t come down right away. End of the month always brings an extra share of paperwork.” Bill slapped the older man’s shoulder and moved toward the door. “Yes, sir.” George called. Bill walked back through the lobby, taking an appreciative look around as he did. Highly polished oak counters topped with etched glass separated the tellers from the patrons. Chandeliers suspended from fourteen-foot ceilings sparkled when they were switched on. Crown molding carved soon after the beginning of the last century, when that kind of work was expected in a public building, outlined the perimeter of the ceiling. Solid, established, dependable. That’s always the feeling he got here. The way the bank had always been and the way it was going to stay on his watch. He descended to the underground level, unlocked the door at the foot of the steps and exited the stairwell into a narrow, short hall. At the end of the hall was another locked door into the safe room. As he found the second key on his ring, he chided himself for thinking anything was wrong. No one had tampered with the stairwell door that he could tell, and that was the only way into the safe room. The second door, steel with a small pane of glass to use for viewing, was more of a failsafe that he’d had installed himself. From this side, it also looked fine. He glanced through the glass, looked down to fit the key in the lock, then looked through the viewer again, frowning. Something did not look fine. Light leaked from around the edge of the vault door into a hall that should have no light except the eerie glow of the emergency exit lights over the door where he now stood. A closer look showed a rope dangling from the ventilation vent about six feet away. Holy shit! Someone was robbing the bank! He should go and get George. Hell, he should call the police. Taking his cell phone out, he flipped open the lid to do that. At the same time his brain was saying, “Wait for the police, big macho idiot!” his hand was unlocking the door. Someone was not robbing the bank, someone was robbing his bank, the secure, dependable bank in his care, and by God, the motherfucker wasn’t going to get away with it.

The door closed behind him with a snick that sounded like a shot in the quiet of the safe room. Standing off to the side, in the thin line of light coming from where the door was cracked open, Bill eased the vault door open. He exhaled a tense breath. No sound came from the interior. Had the thief gone back up into the vent with a load of money? “Listen, you mother. If you don’t come out of there with hands up, right now, you’ll be sorrier than you ever imagined. You’ve got to three. One... Two...” For the first time, it occurred to him that there might be more than one person in there, robbing him of pride and reputation. Idiot, goddamned, fucking idiot! After feeling the first rush of adrenaline, he’d forgotten the major lesson the Corps had taught him: think, so you don’t end up a bigger asshole than the asshole you’re trying to beat. Obviously he’d been out of the service too long. He heard a noise from inside the vault. If there was more than one guy, he’d only be able to best them by moving fast and hard. He’d been trained in martial arts, so surely the fact that he had a cell phone, not a gun, in his hand wouldn’t be too much against him. Besides, like a roll of quarters, the phone would lend some additional punch if he connected with the guy. Yeah, right. You’re an idiot, Hawk! Through the small opening he sprang, shouting, “Three!” Something powerful slammed into his stomach. Just before he hit the floor doubled over in pain, he got a glimpse of his attacker. Not two or three men, not even one man. Someone short, with long black hair. Oh, shit! He’d been brought to his knees by a puny, petite woman. **** Oh my God, that was no guard! And not another thief either, unless the thieves in Nevada dressed a hell of a lot better than those in California. Gun, he’d said he had a gun, but Cynthia was damned if she saw one. The small black object he’d been holding appeared to be a cell phone. She gave him another quick glance. He was on his knees, head bent, one hand to his stomach, the other, still clutching the phone, braced on the floor. Good, he didn’t seem too badly hurt. Down but not out. But out is what she’d better get--he still might have a gun hidden on him. She laid her backpack outside the vault, then grasped the door to give it a strong tug before slipping out herself. Suddenly a grunt came from behind and arms like vises locked around her waist, jerking her away from the door. “You’re not getting away!” the idiot screamed in her ear. “No! No, let go, you jerk! Don’t you realize...?” She released the door, but not soon enough. Momentum kept the door moving, and in less time than it took to say, “Safe and sound,” they were. Safe and sound and locked in until morning. Momentum affected more than the door. When Cynthia let go, she and the unknown idiot fell backwards. Fortunately, she landed on him. He landed hard, and from the solid thump she heard, hit the back of his head at the same time she was landing on top, knocking the wind out of him. Serves him right, getting us closed in like this. She looked at the hands fastened over her stomach and almost laughed. He still had hold of the cell phone, though little good it would do him in here. “Get... Get...” His words came out with a wheeze. “What? I can’t quite hear you.” Instead of rising, Cynthia crossed her arms, then placed one foot on the

floor and rested her other ankle on her bent knee, jiggling her foot with irritation. A cry of surprise tore from her lips as her assailant twisted to the left, dumping her on the floor. “Get the fuck off me!” he finally managed. She scrambled to her feet and backed into the corner to watch him. With some effort, he pushed off the floor but remained bent over, hands on his knees, head down. He seemed to be mumbling nothing but swear words. “Goddamn, motherfucker, asshole...” He went on from there, using a few words she hadn’t heard before. “Your mama would be so proud.” The dryness of her tone finally made him raise his head. “Let’s just leave my mama out of this, you...” Recognition dawned simultaneously. Straightening with a speed she hadn’t thought him capable of a few seconds ago, he rushed the corner where she stood. “You!” he yelled, pointing his finger. “What in hell are you doing? How did you get in here?” Oh my God, it’s Bill. But not the man who had crowded her thoughts and controlled her dreams for weeks. That man was sexy and caring and--and ... sexy. It was all she could do not to cower before this man, faced with his size and fury. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here, threatening me with a ... cell phone?” Shooting a meaningful glance at his hand brought on the near smile again. She remembered the gravity of her situation a second later. His voice dropped to a menacing growl. “I have a right to be here. It’s my bank you’re trying to rob, Cyn.” He made her name feel just like it sounded, evil and nasty. “My money you’re trying to steal.” He narrowed his eyes. “My word that’s going to send you to prison.” She felt the blood drain from her face. That was no idle threat. Bank robbery was a federal offense, and despite the fact that she hadn’t actually stolen anything, it was possible she’d be old and gray before she breathed air as a free citizen again. “Your bank?” she squeaked. “You’re a McKinley?” “I’m a Hawk.” He showed his teeth in a grin completely lacking in humor. “Uncle Mike was the McKinley, but it’s my bank now and still will be on that cold, gray day years from now when you get out of jail.” Concentrated, raw power emanated from him. She was a bug he could crush, and he knew it. The very force of him pushed, intimidated, flattened her. If she didn’t do something, she’d have no will left. She dropped her eyes, aware that her inability to look at him directly gave him even more control. Her heart raced as her mind searched for any means to equalize her position. There was no way to reach the vault door with him standing as close as he was, and it would do her no good anyway. Once the door was closed, the timer was reset, and right now her computer controlled the timer. Until the program was reset again, purportedly when the robbery was discovered and someone determined the bank owner needed rescuing, the door would remain locked. They were stuck in the vault together. In her wildest, sexiest fantasies, this would be perfect. The man standing before her, looking as though he wanted nothing more than for her to die slowly and painfully, was the very man she’d longed to see again. The man who had taken her breath away in a bathroom stall at The Starlight Room. My God, how his lips had felt, warm and pliant, with the promise of passion such as she’d never known. The memory

of his flavor had stayed with her for days, suddenly filling her senses at odd moments. When it happened, her breath shortened and her juices flowed, soaking her panties and making her unable to concentrate. For over a week she’d masturbated to the thought of his cock filling her mouth, and her orgasms had swamped her. If their surreptitious gazes that evening had been like a match struck to dry kindling in the confines of a firebox, the experience of him had been a forest fire that raged out of control long after they’d parted ways. She’d been unable to hurt Vern’s feelings that night. Time had slipped by and her chance had slipped away, leaving her wishing things had turned out differently and aching for the touch of someone she’d never see again. Except ... thanks to a vagary of fate, here he was. Raising her gaze, she didn’t see the man ready to condemn her to prison but the man who’d stoked her dreams. She reached her hand up to cup his cheek. His eyes widened with surprise and then hooded with distrust. “Don’t think you can charm your way out of this. I offered you a chance to spend time with me once before and you shafted me. Using sex now won’t save your sorry ass.” He leaned forward as he spoke, close enough that his breath was hot on her cheek. Assuming even more of her personal space, he caged her against the wall with his hands. His actions could be seen as a threat or a dare. Cynthia chose the dare. Scraping against his body as she rose on tiptoes, she brushed her lips across his. Anger rolled off him but he didn’t react. Smoothing her hand up his jaw, she dug her fingers through his hair while stroking his ear with her thumb. Her tongue traced the seam of his lips. Steel controlled him and he didn’t react. With her hand on his nape, she held him firmly in place, her mouth covering his and her tongue seeking entrance. At last, with a sharp inhalation, his mouth opened and she surged forward, tasting a desire in him as strong as hers. Something hit the floor and his arms enveloped her, lifted her and crushed her to him so that she wasn’t sure she could breathe. His bruising hold didn’t matter. The kiss itself was enough to take her breath away. Chapter Three Cynthia wrapped her legs around Bill’s waist. His hands dropped to cup her butt, stroking and kneading through her tight slacks. His tongue pushed into her mouth where he took control, stroking the roof, her teeth, and finally her tongue. Her hands were everywhere, scrubbing his cheeks, riffling his hair, caressing his ears, and stroking his neck, shoulders and back. He wanted her touching him in other places, too. He’d demand it, in fact. He broke the kiss, his rapid, shallow breathing betraying the disinterest he’d wanted to show. Although she was all muscle, she was small and weighed practically nothing. When he pounded into her later, her strength and muscle would add to the pleasure. “What’s this?” he asked, fingering the white facemask that hung around her neck. “To keep dust out of my nose and mouth in the vent.” She leaned for his mouth, but he had other plans. He hiked her up further on his body. “No need now,” he rasped, and ripped it off, clearing the path to her breasts. The shock of a thief in his safe was nothing compared to the sheer astonishment of discovering who the thief was. To find Cynthia again at all was astounding, but here, like this? He was glad there’d been no way to place bets at the local casino--he would have lost. Between being furious and--yes, he would admit it to himself--humiliated at being trapped in the safe, he’d quickly added another emotion: lust. Immediately, he’d noticed everything about her, including the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. In proportion to the rest of her, her tits weren’t big, but the nipples

pressing through the silky material of her top screamed to be sucked. Fumbling, he found the zipper tab for the smooth top she wore, and all but yanked it down, far enough to free one delectable breast. Open-mouthed, he latched onto the nipple, licking the little jewel, laving it with his tongue as he sucked. She arched her back, silently asking for more. He palmed her other breast. “What is this you have on?” he asked. “Ski clothes.” She could barely get the words out. It crossed his mind that she was acting, trying to save herself from being arrested, but he pushed the suspicion away. Maybe because he didn’t want to believe it. Anyway, against all odds, he was face to face with the woman who’d haunted him for weeks. Even if it was an act, she was offering and he was going to take. Fate probably wouldn’t be this kind again. “Right. It comes off. All of it. Do you understand?” He waited a moment to see if she protested, but she only nodded. Sliding down his length served the purpose of letting her feel just what she was in for, and his hardness and size didn’t escape her, if her widened eyes were any indication. He wanted her with every fiber of his body. God knew, if she said no to him, it was going to be one damned long night and he was going to be in a bitch of a mood the whole time. Feet back on the floor, she covered her face with her hands and gulped air. When she looked up, there was something other than lust in her eyes. “What in hell are we doing? If there’s a possible way out of here don’t you think we should look for it instead of--instead of...?” She zipped up her top and pulled away from him. Shit. It was a ploy on her part after all. Bill backed up, willing himself not to grab her and do what he wanted, regardless. He threw his hands out in question. “How?” Then he followed her gaze to the ceiling of the vault where the ventilation system ended for this part of the building. The small hole led into the same vent she’d evidently come through. “There are problems with that.” He turned to look at her. “What?” She didn’t look up, already busy unsnapping some kind of drill from her belt and fitting it with a Phillips head screwdriver. “First, how are you planning to get up there?” She swept her eyes over him and then looked at the ceiling, He could picture the wheels turning as she calculated whether the two of them would provide enough height. “I think if I sat on your shoulders I would be plenty high enough.” He shook his head. “If my head gets that close to your pussy, I’ll be doing something other than holding you up to unscrew anything.” He almost smiled at her blush. “If you thought you could get through that size hole, why didn’t you just come in that way?” Her shoulders rose with her deep intake of breath, and her eyes closed. With her slow exhalation, she let her shoulders drop and her eyes open. Relaxation 101. Sometimes it worked better than other times. He had a feeling this was one of those instances where it wouldn’t be very effective. After all, she was locked in an eight-by-ten foot room with him. Then there was the small matter of being arrested at

gunpoint when she finally escaped being in the eight-by-ten foot room with him. “I had a choice then. Now I don’t. Won’t you let me see if I can get through?” At least she asked her question and stood her ground instead of trying again to swish her way up to him for a little more sexual persuasion. He hated to think he was so weak it might work, but damn, she was a woman who fired his desire on every level. Too bad she was going to jail. “There’re steel bars above the grate. You can’t get through them.” “Yes, I can, I’ve got...” she scanned the floor and then slapped her forehead. “Hell, I put my pack outside.” “You’ve got what? Another drill...?” He watched with interest as her eyes lit up with the suggestion and she examined the tool in her hand. “Acid?” Guilt flashed across her face as quickly as the interest had. So, she’d used acid earlier. There were bars separating the bank from the store next door and from the outside, a short way in from where the vent entered the building. She’d come through one of those two ways. She started to speak, but he cut her off. “Forget it. You’re not going out that way no matter what you have.” He walked away and dropped to the floor, leaning against the old cabinet that had been used to store valuables before the use of safety deposit boxes. “You don’t really think I’d help you get out and leave myself in here do you?” He snorted. “I may be horny but I’m not stupid.” “I swear I’d let you out. This safe is a breeze to crack. Once I got...” “I said, forget it.” Patting the floor, he looked up at her. “Come on over here and tell me how you pulled this off. I’m curious and I don’t want to wait until the trial to hear all the details.” He saw her flinch before she bent her head to hook the drill back in place and drop down against the opposite wall. “The details are between me and the police.” “The FBI, more like it. Are you prepared for that?” Saying nothing, but showing nervousness nonetheless, she wiped her hands on her pants and licked her lips. It was the last gesture that brought Bill’s cock back to life, but the first that made his heart turn over. Somehow, he couldn’t see this woman as a career criminal, roaming the countryside looking for safes to crack. She looked like a secretary or teacher or some man’s wife, some child’s mother. Of course, his experience with thieves was rather limited. Maybe this is how they made them these days. “You don’t do this often, do you?” He’d been unsuspecting when she almost knocked him out, then when she kissed him. Now, he found himself just as unprepared for her tears. **** Cynthia’s eyes filled as she stared at Bill. “It’s pretty obvious, I guess, since I got caught. And now I’ll never have the chance to...” The air conditioner flipped on and cool air poured down from the vent. A shiver ran along her arms. “Who ever heard of putting an air conditioning in a safe?” “Hey, haven’t you ever heard of cold cash?” She laughed, banishing the tears.

He smiled. “Be grateful. We have lights available in here all the time, and the ventilation system is going to keep us breathing comfortably until morning.” He slid his jacket off. “Come over here and I’ll share my jacket.” She stood to walk the few feet and settle down next to him. He slipped the jacket over her shoulders and pulled her close, his hand chafing her arm through the wool. “What, did I interrupt you before you could get the loot out?” he asked, pointing to the Federal Reserve bag on the floor. Ducking her head against his shoulder, she answered slowly. “That’s what I hit you with.” He sounded incredulous. “You hit me with my own money?” Sitting quietly for a moment, he then burst into laughter. She looked up, surprised. “That’s irony for you. I came crashing in here like John Wayne to protect the cash and it almost knocked me out. You’ve got a good swing.” “Thank you.” As amazing as it seemed after all they’d been through, she felt shy. “What were you thinking, rushing in here like that? Suppose I’d been someone dangerous? Suppose it hadn’t been me, but real robbers. You could have been hurt, even killed.” A tremor ran through her voice and he held her even tighter. “Even with just me, being hit like that would have brought most men down.” “I’m not most men.” So damn true. God, she wanted him. She should change the topic. No matter what had happened at The Starlight Room, everything had now changed. This was neither the time nor the place to beg him to fuck her brains out, and yet that’s all she seemed to want. On the other hand, when would she ever get such a chance again? “That was apparent from the beginning,” she whispered, and turned in his arms. Sliding her hand up his shirt front, she caressed his chest. His heartbeat increased beneath her fingers, and though he said nothing, she believed he wanted what she wanted. To feel, not to talk or think. Unfastening two buttons, he guided her hand inside his shirt, then moved it in slow, gentle circles over his stiffened nipple. A low groan escaped him. “I wanted to meet you that night at the restaurant, but I just couldn’t be rude to Vern. It wasn’t his fault I was totally disinterested in him, and I owed him to finish our date.” She kept her voice hushed and deep. “I hoped you’d understand. I’ve dreamt about being with you ever since that night, but never thought I’d see you again.” Without his guidance, she pinched the flat disk of his nipple and pushed the shirt away enough to lean forward and flick her tongue across it. “I haven’t forgotten you, either. I waited until I was certain you weren’t coming. I couldn’t believe how disappointed I was over someone I didn’t even know. But there seemed to be something between us, a current of electricity, a pull. I couldn’t resist it then and I don’t want to now.” He gathered her hair and wrapped it in his fist. “You know, what you’re doing, it won’t change anything. When that door swings open there will be men with guns to arrest you. There won’t be anything I can do, regardless of what happens in here.” She nodded against his chest. “I know. But fate brought us together for a reason, not once but twice. I just want to revel in what you do to me and not worry about tomorrow.” Lifting her head, she gave him a smile that she hoped relayed what she felt. That she wanted to be with him, not just for sex, but for something deeper.

“Do you know, my date that evening told me all about myself based on my horoscope. But he wasn’t the first person to do that. Back where I used to live there was a kiosk in the mall, Cosmic Somethingorother. The lady who owned it sold crystals and books on horoscopes and other psychic stuff. A nice lady, Zoe, but she always made me feel a little spooked. Anyway, she stopped me one day and said that I should be on the lookout for a bird, a bird of prey, and that I shouldn’t be afraid because he would make me fly. And that’s how I felt about you, Bill, from when we first locked eyes at The Starlight Room, before I knew your last name was Hawk. That you would make me fly. “Considering the missteps we’ve made, though, I guess there was no way we were going to get together. After our first meeting, I looked up Scorpio. More than anything else, you respect trust, and you can’t be knocked off your sense of duty or honor.” She cocked her head and smiled sadly. “Not exactly the best match for a thief. Still, I feel drawn to you in a way I can’t explain. I won’t get any special favors, I know that. But this might be my last chance to be with someone special for the next twenty-five years. Will you...? I mean, would you mind...?” With lightning speed, he lifted her to his lap. “Oh, baby, would I mind?” He took her lips, caressing them with firm insistence before sliding his tongue into her mouth. Roaming her body, his hands pushed the jacket away and cupped her breasts. His thumbs pressed her nipples, roughly rubbing until she couldn’t stand not to have more. “Being with you is all I’ve thought about since that first night. Will we fly, baby? Yes, we’ll fly.” He claimed her mouth again while unzipping her top. Her fingers flew through the rest of his shirt buttons and within seconds they were at last skin to skin, Cynthia’s nipples to Bill’s broad chest. She sighed into the hollow above his collar bone. “So nice,” she murmured, then rocked against his groin. “But not nearly enough.” Breathing hard and fast, Bill urged her to stand. He used speed that matched her impatience, unlacing her shoes and pulling her ski pants down so she could step out of them. He tugged her forward, bringing her crotch to his face. Inhaling deeply, he pressed his face to her plain white, cotton panties. In a moment of foolishness, she wished she’d worn lace or silk to break into the safe. Wished she’d dressed for seduction rather than larceny. “I don’t have anything with me to protect you, Cynthia, but I can do this. Will you let me?” His hands roved up and down her thighs. The vent still spewed air, and she was almost naked but she wasn’t cold. In fact, she felt overheated, from the inside out. “I don’t need protection, Bill. I need you.” His sharp intake of breath accompanied his hands as they moved up and under the leg bands of her underwear. His fingers curved over her hips and his thumbs wound through her pubic hair, meeting under the hood of skin at the top of her labia. Stroking her clit, he whispered, “I’d like that.” Curling tendrils of need rose through her, like smoke rising from a fire. The very fire Bill had started when his thumbs caressed her. Someone rapped on the vault door. No, that was just her heart. She looked down when he took his hands away. He was unbuckling his belt and pushing to his knees to pull his pants over his thighs. When he tugged on the waistband of her panties, she pushed them the rest of the way and stepped out of them. Thinking he wanted her on the floor, she started to sit, but he stopped her. “Straddle me, sweetheart.” He positioned her like the Colossus who’d had one foot on each side of the

opening of the ancient harbor at Rhodes. Leaning forward, he slid his hands between her legs to her butt. His thumbs spread the lips of her labia open to his mouth. The tendrils of desire Cynthia felt when he scented her turned into roils of unbridled passion when his tongue found her clit. “Oh! Oh, my God, oh!” There was no doubt in her mind that she would have collapsed had not Bill supported her, holding her butt and pressing her against him. Still, she leaned forward, bracing her hands on the safe wall. With enthusiasm, he licked her lower lips from one end to the other, then focused solely on her clit. Stroke after stroke brought her to her knees metaphorically. While his fingers massaged her butt cheeks, his thumbs found their way past the opening of her vagina and now scrubbed the close lining of her passage. Her arms shook and she could only find shallow breath. She thought she might pass out from the intensity and gave fleeting thought to begging Bill to stop. But she couldn’t. On their own, her hips moved in rhythm to his tongue and thumbs, seeming to be the only part of her that knew how to respond to his ministrations. Hot! She was so hot. Burning from the flames, she felt her skin redden, rather than saw it. More, more, more. Pressing forward, her hips thrust toward his head, faster and faster. If she could have, she would have held him against her, inside her, within her, a part of her very being. She needed him to be part of her. She needed-“Ahhh...” She’d thought she would scream when she came, the feelings were so overwhelming, but instead she gave almost a sigh. She rested her forearm on the cabinet and dropped her head, barely able to move, not wanting to before the dizzying contractions and spasms ended. Not wanting the contractions and spasms to end. Her hand fell to Bill’s head. How could he not know he’d already brought her to the most glorious climax? Yet his tongue still swiped against her swollen, tender clit, keeping her on edge. She would never feel calm again, not truly. Just a thought of his mouth on her would forever send her spiraling into the heavens. Finally, he stopped, raising his head slightly. She realized her hand stroked his hair and he turned his head into her hand, encouraging her touch. With a controlled strength she hadn’t imagined in him, he lowered her to his lap, gently seating her on him. He pushed her knees out and adjusted his hips until all she felt was Bill. Her black-as-midnight pubic hair, wet and scented with her juices, curled in riotous chaos with his brown hair. Her sensitive clit pressed into the hair above his cock and his balls strained tightly against her butt. The smell of her was on his breath. His eyes darkened and glazed, Bill stared at her breasts. He raised his thumbs and spread the results of her climax on her nipples. Pulling her forward, he groaned as his mouth latched onto first one nipple then the other, cleaning them of cream. At the same time, he started a slow rock with his hips. Without seeming to move, he thrust. Cynthia felt the surge of his cock deep within her. She’d known that he was big, very big. If she’d given it any thought she might have been nervous about his entry. Other men had complained about how small she was, how tight, and that they had a hard time gaining entrance. Not Bill. He’d seemed to slip in, and though she felt full to the extreme, there was no discomfort. Only exquisite friction. She couldn’t help but respond. Rising to her knees, she slid off of him then dropped back. Bill leaned his

head against the cabinet, eyes closed. But his hands firmly grasped her hips and helped her rise again. Then fall. Rise and fall. Within seconds their panting filled the vault. The smell of sex was everywhere. Sweat covered them, helping their bodies slip and slide as their movements became more frenzied. Twisting her hair in one fist, Bill brought her mouth to his. His other arm trapped her waist, pulling her up tightly against him. His thrusts were sharp and short now. Her clit scraped the area above his cock; her tender nipples scoured his chest with each drive. In rhythm with his cock, his tongue mimicked the thrust and withdrawal, insinuating the flavor of cream into her mouth with each entry. She thought she would burst from the sensual overload. Her pussy ached for release again, the tension swirling from her clit to every nerve ending in her body. Then, it happened! Her internal spring coiled to a taut band and let go. Tingling spread throughout her body. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Behind her eyes she saw blue sky over a meadow of flowers. A bird soared in the heaven and another joined it. The sounds they made in the throes of mating filled her head. Suddenly, Bill filled her body, his penis pulsing against the lining of her vagina, his moans barely perceptible to her ears. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him as close as she could. He crushed her to him, rocking into her, emptying a part of him into a part of her, as though he never wanted to let her go. If she could arrange it, she would, she assured him in her thoughts. Gradually, his arms relaxed and her head rested on his shoulder. Boneless, if the vault door had swung open at that moment she wouldn’t have been able to make an escape. Contentment ruled for a time, as she let everything else seep away. Bill readjusted her on his lap, turning his head to kiss her forehead. “Is that what you’d hoped for? Did you fly?” “Yes, I did. Thanks, Bill. This was...” She raised her head to look at him. “I hope it wasn’t too uncomfortable for you.” His eyes narrowed, questioning her comment. “Why would you ask that? You’re incredible. Tight and hot, just like I’d imagined all these weeks.” He pushed her head back onto his shoulder and stroked her hair. “Made just for me to fill. Just me.” Chapter Four They sat together for a long time, not talking, hardly moving, Bill’s hand smoothing her hair hypnotically until Cynthia dozed on his shoulder. He shook her awake after what seemed like minutes. “What is it? Is it time to go?” Coming out of her sleepy fog, she realized they were still sitting on the floor, mostly nude. “We’d better get dressed. You’re shivering and the guard should make his rounds in another twenty minutes.” His hands rested on her hips. Leaning forward, he kissed her. A soft kiss, gentle, free of his earlier wildness. Was that just sex, then? The strange attraction they’d felt all those weeks ago and again here, was it only the need for physical fulfillment? With help, she rose, still slightly disoriented from her sound nap. “Of course, you’re right.” Bending to pick up her top, she added, “The next time I break into a safe, remind me to bring a port-a-potty.” He chuckled, standing to fasten his slacks and button his shirt. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

She slipped into her ski pants and top then knelt on one knee to tie her shoe. “What’s this guard of yours like?” she asked while forming a bow. “I mean, will he try to take me himself or will he call the cops first?” It wasn’t that she was worried about being harmed by the guard--she knew Bill wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her. But she dreaded knowing that his last look at her would be at the front of a gun then handcuffed. Weak and conquered after the power they’d shared. “No, George is a good guy. He’ll go by the book and call both the police and the fibbies when he sees that rope hanging from the vent. And that’s why I want you to try to go out that vent before he makes his rounds.” She snapped her head up, then stood, her mouth open in surprise, shoes forgotten. “What?” His gaze was on the vent in the safe ceiling. “The air’s not blowing now so it won’t be as cool, although that metal vent will be chilly. I think I can lift her that high.” He spoke to himself, never mind that he said the words out loud. “And she’s got that handy-dandy drill...” Turning to her, he let his lips curve up into a half smile. “You’re no bigger than a minute, but that space is pretty small, too. Do you think you can fit?” “What about the steel bars?” He was letting her go? How could that be? Shaking his head, he bent to finish tying her shoes. “I lied. Never had them put in here. Never thought I’d need them.” Standing, he held her shoulders and looked into her eyes. Not just looked--concentrated. “But I have to know, Cynthia, did you take anything? Do I need to worry about what you put outside the safe? Because if you did, then it doesn’t matter how much I want you to get away. I won’t let my feelings go any further between me and what’s right.” Her heart raced. He cared for her and that’s why he was helping her. What they had was not just sex, but real feelings. “I swear to you, Bill, I took nothing.” After a moment he gave a nod. “Okay. We don’t have much time. Here.” He stooped and waited while she climbed onto his shoulders, then slowly stood, holding her legs in a balancing act. “Cyn?” “Hmm?” It took no time to unscrew the vent plate. She tucked the screws in her pocket. “Why’d you do this?” Despite their situation, Bill edged his head around to nuzzle her thigh, causing her to suck in her breath with need. She thought for a minute before answering. “I had something to prove. I guess I could have done it in a different way, but I--I was stupid, Bill, and in need of a little excitement. Or flamboyance. Can you understand that?” He snorted. “Yeah, I can.” “I never meant to cause this kind of trouble, and I never would have touched this bank if I’d known you...” Dropping her hand to his face, she stroked his cheek in an upside down caress. “You’d better go,” he said in a gruff tone. “And Cynthia? I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to see each other again. I mean, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come back and look me up, okay?”

She said nothing. What could she say? With some shimmying and twisting, she squeezed through the small opening, then turned and looked back. Bill stood below the vent, head lowered, shoulders slumped. He had just let her escape, against what the law dictated and what his own code of justice said he should do. It was then she knew how much she meant to him. She had a feeling that to Bill, honor and doing what was right, meant everything. **** Taps and rumbles echoed off the metal as Cynthia hurried through the vent and away from the safe. Bill hung his head, knowing he’d done precisely the wrong thing for precisely the right reason. In his heart he knew Cynthia wasn’t a criminal. By all rights, she should be arrested and thrown in the slammer, which is exactly what he’d planned when he saw the safe had been cracked. But in some irresistible way, she’d gotten under his skin. Maybe a little into his heart. Certainly into his mind and dreams. Suck it up. What’s done is done. He snatched the white mask off the floor and jammed it in his pocket, then picked up his phone, dropped and forgotten when he’d first kissed Cynthia. Finally, he picked up the tan cloth bag holding the cash she’d used to hit him. Folding the bag, he stacked the rolls of quarters as neatly as he could. At least he hadn’t been slugged with pennies. The piercing alarm on his pager sounded, indicating Cynthia had messed with the safe computer program again. He turned it off, wishing he’d never paid attention to the damn thing to begin with. Yeah, the bank would have been robbed, but he wouldn’t have been complicit. Neither would he have discovered his feelings for Cynthia were real, for all the good that knowledge would do him now. So, there was a trade-off. There always was. At a noise from behind he turned, expecting to see at least George and maybe armed lawmen. Instead, Cynthia peeked in through the opened door. He hated the happiness he felt seeing her, and compensated by narrowing his eyes and jamming his hands on his hips. “What are you doing here?” She pushed the door wide and stood for a moment, as though making sure it wouldn’t close on its own. Satisfied, she stepped in with a smile. “I assumed when you said not to come back you didn’t mean before I let you out.” She thrust her hands on her hips and raised her brows. “Or do you want to stay in here?” Huffing out a breath he dropped his hands. “No, of course not. Thanks.” The irony of it struck him again. He had only been locked in the safe because of her, and now relied on her to release him. Fate had a strange sense of humor. “Lift me up again so I can screw the vent back in place. Hurry.” She fairly bounced, waiting for him to stoop and pick her up. He wanted to kiss her so badly, it hurt. With the help of her drill-screwdriver, the vent was back in place quickly and Cyn was back on the floor. “Damn! I can’t find my mask.” “Here.” Bill pulled it from his pocket. “Thanks,” she said, taking it from him. “I shouldn’t leave anything behind.” Her eyes were sad, her posture slumped. Still, practically dragging him along, she exited the vault. He

pushed the door of the big, old safe closed. “Well, Bill, I guess this is goodbye.” She squeezed his arms and rested her forehead on his chest. “It’s for the best. Take care of yourself, sweetheart.” She nodded. A sniffle said she was crying. “I wish I could say stay out of trouble.” His arms wrapped around her. At that moment, all he wanted was to stay there, feeling her sweet body molded to his. “You’d better go.” He glanced at his watch in the dim red illumination of the emergency light. “George will be here any minute.” Again she nodded, but didn’t move. Finally, he pushed her away and turned her toward the rope, dangling from the ceiling vent. She scooped up her backpack and, like a cat climbing a tree, she was up and out of sight. In another second, the rope disappeared. She leaned down only to pull the vent up, her eyes meeting his for a split second. He heard the scratch of metal on metal as she found a way to keep the vent in place. Then taps, scrapes and the piercing sound of his alarm once more. He flipped it off. “So that’s how you knew to come to the safe,” she said, the words echoing down into the room. “I wondered.” “Cynthia?” He whispered although they were the only two there. “Don’t ever come back to my bank, but don’t forget me, okay?” “There’s not a chance in this world, Bill,” came the low reply. He only hoped that meant she wouldn’t forget him. “Sir?” Bill jumped half out of his skin. He spun to see George standing in the open safe room doorway. “I thought I heard you say something, Mr. Hawk. Just making my rounds. Are you still being spooked with fears of something happening tonight?” “I was just talking to myself, George. And yeah, I guess spooked is a good word for how I felt. But it looks like everything is fine.” Or will be when I get NorthNev to fix the damned hole in my security. He put his hand on George’s shoulder and led him from the room. “Sir,” George continued on, “I know you get nervous every time we have the mine payroll in the bank as well as the casino deposits, but it only happens once a month and under tight security. Who could know? Plus, like me, that big safe there is old, but it’s the most secure safe in the world, Mr. Hawk. No one’s gonna break that safe--they haven’t in over a hundert years, and they won’t now.” “Yeah, George, you’re probably right.” But just to be sure, Bill took one last look over his shoulder. **** “Thank you very much for selecting us as your bank, ma’am. We pride ourselves on being the friendliest bank in Nevada.” The lovely young woman handed Cynthia her passport savings book and counter checks for the accounts Cynthia had just opened. “I hear you’re one of the safest banks in the state. That’s why I chose you.” She tucked the checks and small leatherette book in her finely-tooled, real leather handbag.

“Oh, yes, ma’am. Our president takes great pride in having the finest security of any bank in the state. Maybe the country,” the young woman gushed. Looking up over Cynthia’s shoulder, she smiled prettily and her cheeks tinged pink. “Oh, here he is now. Mr. Hawk, Ms. Williams has just opened a new account with us.” Cynthia took a deep breath before standing to face Bill. When she did, she allowed her eyes to roam his face searching for what he might be feeling. The same dispassionate gaze he’d worn when she first saw him stared back at her. But when he took her hand, the heat traveling up her arm gave the lie to his eyes. “Ms. Williams? Not Cynthia Williams?” She heard the clerk mutter, “Who is Cynthia Williams?” Cynthia laughed. “The very same, Mr. Hawk.” He pursed his lips and said nothing for a moment more, but he didn’t release her hand. “This is a pleasure. I hope you’ve been treated well?” “Yes, this lady says you have the friendliest bank around, but I assured her that security is more important.” “Yes, I’m sure you feel that way,” he said dryly. “Why don’t you let me tell you more about the bank? Come to my office for a minute.” He did let go of her hand then and spun on his heels. With a shrug of her shoulders, Cynthia followed. “Hold my calls, please,” Bill commented to another woman sitting outside the solid door marked President. When he closed the door behind Cynthia, he stood looking down at her with his arms crossed. “I thought I requested that you not come to my bank again.” “Well, I didn’t think you really meant it. I’ve just moved to your fair town and, in case it escaped your notice, I deposited money today.” She skimmed by him to look at the photos scattered over the bookshelves along the wall, her silk dress rustling as it brushed his suit. “And by the way, the ‘friendliest’ bank in the state might be seen as more friendly if your clerks didn’t ‘ma’am’ all the women who come in. I’m not exactly over the hill.” She threw a glance over her shoulder just in time to see a smile cross his face, and she smiled back. “Believe me, that fact hasn’t escaped my notice.” She walked back to him. “Good.” Once again, all was quiet between them. His eyes were bluer than a summer sky now, and as warm. “I think I understand how you knew about the mine payroll and the security measures.” “Oh?” “When I called to give NorthNev Security hell, they told me they had a promising investigator who’d worked at the FBI for years. Wes Little, my representative at NorthNev was full of praise for this woman. Said she’d been working on improvements for my system.” “Really. A ‘promising investigator?’ He said that?” He shrugged. “I’m not sure. He might have said the best investigator they’d ever had, you know how

companies kiss up when they know their ass is on the line.” She slapped his shoulder playfully. “I’m sure if Wes said that, he meant it.” “Anyway, Wes said this female investigator had found several holes in the bank’s security. Off the record, he told me that she’d had trouble convincing the higher ups that she was right. She’s supposedly a bit wild and passionate, and--although brilliant--tends to get herself in trouble with her exuberance. Said she’d almost gotten fired twice in the few short months she’s worked for them because she’d gone out on a limb to prove a point.” He clucked. “Hard to believe such a stubborn woman could actually be one of their best investigators, isn’t it?” “The best investigator they’ve ever seen,” she corrected. “I guess I do go overboard sometimes, but only with the best of intentions. Still,” she spoke lower, “if I’d been caught I would have gotten the book thrown at me. It’s one thing to theorize on loopholes in security, and quite another to prove them by breaking the law.” She shuddered. “I can promise I won’t be doing it again.” “You’ve got that right. I’m taking on the task of keeping you on the straight and narrow.” She smiled happily. Running her hand up under his tie, she undid a button and slid her hand to feel his heartbeat. “I think you’re happy to see me, after all.” “Hmm.” He took a step closer. “When I told Wes that I thought we had some serious problems, and that I was pretty sure the program I’d added to the system had stopped a robbery, he got right on it.” Cupping her breast, he winked. “You’re just as happy to see me. Anyway, I said that NorthNev had better give that investigator a huge bonus and assign her to my account.” “Which he did. It’s my bonus I just deposited in this very friendly, extremely safe bank. By the way, I don’t want you to think that I used inside information to break in here. It was all information I gleaned from sources, so I’m glad NorthNev decided to take my recommendations seriously.” “If they hadn’t, I would have hired you as an independent consultant. Can’t do that now, though.” He removed his hand from her breast and wrapped his arms around her instead. “Why not?” She locked her hands around his waist. “Conflict of interest. Can’t hire my girlfriend without someone thinking I’m taking inappropriate actions.” Rising up on her toes, she brushed her lips across his. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend? Sure you can stand having a bank robber so close?” He took her mouth in a deep kiss, searing her with fire all the way to her toes. “Are you kidding,” he whispered when they broke apart. “Let others take wine and cheese and go out to the high plains to make out. I’ll gather up a couple of beers and a soft comforter and have my little safe cracker get us in the most secure place in the state to kiss and...” he cupped her butt “--do other things.” “Safe sex?” she asked, laughing. He groaned. “That’s a terrible pun. But the sex is anything but terrible. It’s the best,” he murmured, “with you.” The End About the Author:

Dee S. Knight hasn't led a dull life, she's led a lucky one. For instance, she was lucky enough to grow up in a military household where she got used to seeing lots of handsome men in uniform. Thus, at thirteen she was prepared when she met her future husband. He also grew up in a military family and then attended a military high school and college. Another handsome man in uniform-YES! Lucky Dee! For the past thirty years, as long distance truckers, teachers, computer trainers and consultants, she and her hubby have experienced many of their dreams and happily lived the adventure they call their life. Wanderlust strikes often, but fortunately they consider anywhere they're together, home. Yes, again. Very lucky, indeed. Please visit http://deesknight.com to see what's currently going on in Dee's world. Book Two Cosmic Sensations Maggie Casper Dedication To the group of people my alter ego fights fires with, especially you Chief. Thank you for your patience and for keeping me challenged but most of all thank you for watching my back when the going gets rough. You all are the best! Chapter One He moved with grace, like a sleek cat, which was very unusual for a man his size. Zoe was dying to know his sign. She could picture him a Leo, he seemed as generous and warmhearted as many Leo’s she’d known, but for some reason that one just didn’t feel right. No, she shook her head. Maybe he was a Taurus. Not the ideal mate for her Libra, but since Venus ruled both signs, it sure could make for some fun. Zoe’s breasts tingled thinking of the possibilities. Quickly, she brought herself back to the present as he moved toward her on his way back from visiting the men’s room. Zoe still wasn’t sure what to think about the fact that he’d invited her out to dinner. It didn’t really make any sense. The last time they’d talked, he’d brushed her off as if she were no more than a pesky fly. John Richardson sat, his overly large frame intimidating and sexy all at the same time. He watched her, his chiseled chin and wavy brown hair giving him a roguish look. There was nothing at all wimpy about the man sitting across from her. “So,” he cleared his voice. “About what you told me yesterday.” A light flicked on in Zoe’s brain. He was curious about her gift. Well, that would certainly be a first. Normally, men either ran the other way or blustered their way through the conversation, citing reasons why she was a fraud. Zoe was a bit excited to finally come across someone open minded enough to listen. She had just opened her mouth to comment when he blew her excitement all to hell. “Normally I don’t go in for all that hocus pocus crap, but...” His voice trailed off, which was probably good since Zoe’s temper was mounting. John Richardson ought to consider himself lucky that she wasn’t the type to hex someone. He’d sure as hell find himself at the top of her list. “So, Mr. Richardson,” Zoe started, her voice sweet, too sweet. “If you don’t normally go in for they

hocus pocus crap, why did you bother to invite me to dinner?” Damn! Zoe swore silently. She wasn’t going to show the idiot just how disappointed she was at his words. John’s eyes widened, a sheepish look quickly crossing his masculine features. His lips tilted in a crooked smile. Sensuous lips Zoe could only imagine kissing. Why it had to be this man, she’d never know, but it was. Zoe knew it, felt it deep inside, and had decided early on just to watch and wait. No reason to tempt fate. There was nothing she could do or say to change the fact that John Richardson was her destiny; the problem was going to be steering him ever so gently toward the same conclusion. His large hand engulfed hers, sending a zing of pleasure up her arm. His hand stilled on contact, looking at her as if he wasn’t sure what was happening. Zoe couldn’t help but allow a small smile of satisfaction to cross her lips. Her smile seemed to put John at ease and soon his blunt-tipped finger was tracing lazy circles on the back of her hand. “Damn, sweetheart. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he said, but Zoe wasn’t one to be easily placated. There was something about his insincerity that pissed her off. Zoe wasn’t sure whether to let him bury himself or not. She could easily end the evening with a thank you and a smile, but that didn’t seem the way to go. Maybe if she pushed just a bit, he’d give her a straight answer. “Exactly what did you mean, then? “Well, honestly? I’ve never had anyone do anything like you did, warning me and all.” Watching closely, Zoe was relieved to hear him speak the truth even if it did make him uncomfortable. It was time to put him at ease. “I can’t explain it either, really. Sometimes I just know things, feel things. Most of the time, I have no control over it.” She wasn’t sure just how far she should go, but quickly decided that laying it all on the line would be for the best. “You have to know that I find you attractive. I enjoy watching you, as you well know. As a result, I’ve formed some kind of connection. No,” she said, shaking her head when his eyes narrowed and his hand tensed over hers. “I can’t read your mind and I’m not saying that I am connected to you exactly.” He seemed to relax at her words. Zoe knew then that John was going to be a hard case to crack. “What I’m saying is that I’m more sensitive to you and those around you. Yesterday, something kept nagging me. All day I felt it tugging me to you. I’d always been happy to just sit back and watch before.” Admitting it made her blush. Zoe could feel the heat of it radiate up from her chest, all the way to the roots of her hair and cursed her fair features. Before she could continue, a waiter came to take their orders. John never released her hand. Once the waiter left, Zoe continued. “I’d never felt the need to talk to you before, but yesterday I did. When I went outside during my lunch hour, I felt it all around you. I’m still not sure what it was, but the feeling I got worried me, so I did the only thing I could think to do, I warned you.” She also remembered how he’d kept his smile bland, his features composed as if he was afraid she’d go off on a tangent if he didn’t agree with her every word. He was watching her as if her quietly spoken words had penetrated the outermost edge of his non-believing shell. He gave a rueful chuckle. “I’ve never really given people like you much thought. I mean,” he amended. “I’ve never thought much about what you call your gifts. Aw hell,” he muttered. “This isn’t going to come out right no matter how I say it.” His finger was still caressing the back of her hand and Zoe wondered if he was trying to soothe her or himself or if he even realized he was doing it. He continued, although he seemed a bit agitated about doing so. “I didn’t take what you said to heart, but evidently a part of me did.” He shook his head after saying that, as if he had no idea where it had come from. “I was loading up to go home when I realized

I’d forgotten some equipment. I went back to the site to get it. Everyone else was gone when it happened. Normally I’d have just gone ahead without a hard hat since there was no heavy equipment running, but for some reason I went back to my truck and got mine. Anyway, a hammer fell from a scaffolding a few feet above where I stopped to pick up my equipment.” He smiled. “And I had on my hard hat.” Zoe’s smile matched John’s. “So this is a thank you dinner, then?” “I guess you could call it that,” he said thoughtfully while staring at their still-clasped hands. “But since I’ve been holding your hand for the past half hour, I’ve got a feeling it’ll end up being more.” Zoe didn’t tell him she’d been having the same feeling for the past several weeks. No sense in worrying the man. It wasn’t until the waiter brought their food to the table that John let her hand go. Zoe missed the contact instantly. The smell of fresh Italian food wafted around them, but it was John’s scent that had her mouth watering. Man and heat, his scent was strong, yet not at all overpowering. Zoe could hardly wait for the day when she’d finally get the chance to taste him. Chapter Two Zoe Hamilton was drop-dead gorgeous, something John was embarrassed to admit he hadn’t realized early on. Her body was tall, lithe, and generously proportioned. She was tall enough that he wouldn’t have to bend his body in half to kiss her. And he sure as hell wanted to kiss her. The thought of her full, pink lips touching any part of his body was all it took to bring his cock twitching to attention, making him glad of the long white tablecloth. With their empty plates cleared away, he was once again free to hold Zoe’s hand, something she didn’t seem to mind. As a matter of fact, she seemed to thoroughly enjoy it if the way her finger was stroking his palm was a clue. When her slender foot wrapped around his calf, John saw stars. A touch so simple, so innocent, should not have such immediate results. John could only handle so much and once a decision was made, he seemed to run with it. “Let’s go,” he said, squeezing her hand gently as he helped her to her feet. Once she was standing, it took all he had not to swing her into his arms and stalk from the building like a man possessed. Zoe had yet to say a word, she merely followed where he led. John was thinking he could get used to that, a woman who followed orders without pouting and whining. He wasn’t sure such a woman existed. They reached John’s truck, both a bit breathless from the fast pace he’d set in his need to be free of the public restaurant as well as his mounting hunger for the mysterious blond trailing him. John turned, then leaned his back against the truck bed, pulling Zoe with him. With his legs spread, Zoe fit perfectly into the cradle of his thighs, as if she were made for him. John wasn’t going to let a little thing like how amazingly her body fit to his dissuade him from his goal or freak him out or anything like that. “Come here,” he murmured, pulling her by the hips impossibly closer, loving the way her eyes flashed and widened at his obvious arousal. John dipped his head, taking Zoe’s lips in a soul-shattering kiss. She tasted wet and wild, so different from the way she looked, all cool and in control. Her skin was smooth and warm where his hand lingered, caressing. The mad flutter of her pulse against his fingertips made him wild, causing him to

deepen the kiss. Zoe hummed her approval, her tongue flicking over his lip in little teasing laps that had John feeling like a horny teenager. Her passion was astounding considering she seemed so cool and aloof on the outside. It was a side of her John was looking forward to getting to know better. Much better. Snaking an arm around her, John clutched her finely curved ass in the palm of his hand. He was almost expecting her to smack him or stiffen up like a fence post. What he did not expect was for Zoe to lift to her toes, aligning her sex with his before melting back into the kiss. She was a one-of-a-kind woman and after tonight, she would be his one-of-a-kind woman for as long as they cared to carry on like rabbits in heat. “Zoe, sweetheart,” John crooned when she made the sexiest little whimper and tried to burrow further into his chest. “We’ve got to get out of here or I’ll have you naked in the bed of my truck.” A knowing smile crossed her lips before she stepped back. Oh yeah, she was sex personified. Eager and ready and so damned hot John wasn’t at all sure he was going to make it some place private before he devoured every inch of her slender body. Zoe stepped away from him and stood still as if waiting for him to make the next move. John’s hands shook with the need to touch her. Instead he opened the driver’s side door and helped Zoe climb up. This time, unlike the ride over, John pulled her to the center of the truck’s bench seat so that they were touching everywhere possible. John could feel the heat from her body, that mysterious radiation of sensation and warmth that seemed to come off of her in waves. One of these days he was going to ask her about that. Tonight however, he wanted no questions between them, only moaning and panting. “I live off of...” she started, but John didn’t want to hear a word of her directions. He wanted her in his home, in his bed. “You’ll go to my house.” He knew he sounded like the Neanderthal Laney always referred to him as but he was hard and aching and he damned well would do everything necessary to ensure Zoe ended up in his bed, under him, over him. It didn’t matter as long as he was buried balls-deep inside the moist recess of what he was sure would be the prettiest pink pussy ever. John didn’t pay any attention to her irritated muttering and when she tried to pull away, he held tight. It only took a few seconds of him stroking the back of her neck before she relaxed against him once again. With reluctance, John released Zoe. If he didn’t get them back to his place as quickly as possible, he was going to end up embarrassing himself. Both of his hands were now gripping the wheel, his knuckles white. John was trying to remain in control so that he didn’t pull over somewhere and take her like a crass adolescent. “Relax.” John felt the words more than heard them as Zoe breathed against his neck. Her finely boned hand was resting on his upper thigh, fingers curled in so that they just barely brushed the base of his cock. A growl welled from deep within his chest. “Save it, sweetheart, or I’m not going to make it.” She smiled that wide-mouthed smile. “So don’t make it,” she purred, moving her fingers a little as if testing him. With no more comments or warnings between them, Zoe cupped her hand around his jeans-clad erection. The weight of her hand as she gently squeezed sent all the air rushing from John’s lungs. He

was absolutely sure that if she didn’t stop, he was going to come against the zipper of his jeans. He gritted his teeth against the need to slam on the brakes, throw the truck in park and take her on the seat. You are a grown man, a man in control, John repeated over and over in his head. Too bad his body didn’t agree. A sigh of relief was heaved from his chest as his house came into sight. The red brick structure always brought a sense of pride. It was extremely satisfying to build something so beautiful with your own hands. John brought the truck to an abrupt halt in front of his home as close to the front door as possible. “Sorry,” he mumbled, throwing an arm in front of Zoe to keep her from flying forward. Clutching her delicate hand in his, John opened his door and climbed out, pulling her behind him. They barely made it to the front porch before they were clinging to each other for dear life. John couldn’t remember ever being so quickly attracted to a woman, any woman, and there was just something about the way Zoe carried herself and blushed so prettily that made him pretty sure their out-of-control lust wasn’t exactly normal for her either. The desire to see her body gloriously nude set his hands in motion. Zoe must have been feeling the same burning need because even as his hand slid beneath her blouse, her deft fingers worked the buttons of his shirt until he could feel the cool night air against his overly heated flesh. When Zoe’s hand brushed his bare chest, John realized exactly how much of a show they could possibly be giving the neighbors. Pulling away, he kissed her lips, nipping the full lower one before stepping back, loving the repeat of that sexy little whimper. “Slow down, baby,” he soothed, wondering where in the hell his patience was coming from. He was normally the type to jump in with both feet. Normally he enjoyed his sex rough and raunchy, but there was something about Zoe that made him want to take his time, to stroke her body until she was raging out of control before riding the wave with her. John unlocked the door, then stepped inside to turn on the foyer light. It was dim and cast an amber glow across the hardwood floor, making its polish shine. Without thought, he took off his shoes, smiling when Zoe followed suit. He expected her to comment on his home but she didn’t. Her eyes were riveted on the exposed flesh of his chest. “Oh, hell,” he groaned, forgetting all thought of going slow as he swept Zoe up into his arms and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. His room was his haven, large and masculine. The dark wood had always seemed to relax him, his bed soothing after a long day’s work. John stood Zoe beside the bed then began removing her clothes, piece by piece. When her trembling hands got in his way in an attempt to help, John pushed them to her sides. “Keep them right there.” His command was spoken softly but he doubted it could be misconstrued as anything but what it was. He felt Zoe’s body as a shiver worked its way up her spine. Chapter Three Zoe wasn’t at all sure what in the world was making her act the way she was. She was by no means a virgin, but then again, she wasn’t one to sleep around and definitely not with a man she knew next to nothing about. Of course, she’d never felt this connected to another living soul before, male or female. It was a devastatingly intense feeling, one that overwhelmed every nerve ending in her trembling body. One that brought her almost to the peak yet left her unsatisfied, still yearning for more. She feared that she would never get enough of John Richardson no matter how many times they made love. It was a troubling thought, leaving her vulnerable and confused.

About the only thing Zoe wasn’t confused about was the fact that she was going to love John and make love to him and that if he didn’t hurry she was going to lose it. When he reached the elastic waistband of her flowing skirt, his voice rasped over her, rough yet gentle. “One day I’m going to take you with one of these long skirts on. I want to feel it around my thighs when you sit on my lap and ride me.” A picture of them flashed through Zoe’s mind, only it was so much more than a picture, it felt real even down to the scent of wildflowers. It passed so fast that Zoe couldn’t catch anything distinguishable about where they were. It would happen though, just as John said it would. She opened her mouth to say as much but was sidetracked by as gasp as John sank to his knees in front of her, his mouth going straight for the apex of her thighs. Like any woman in need, Zoe parted her legs. His tongue flicked over the bud of her clit, warm and wet. Zoe watched, mesmerized by the sight. Her hands were fisted in his hair yet she didn’t remember putting them there. She pulled him closer to her, tugging and moaning his name as he tortured her heated flesh with his tongue. “Mmm,” he hummed against her, sending sparks of desire spiraling straight to her core, causing her center to flood. “Sweet. Damn, sweetheart,” he swore, his voice ragged with desire. Zoe knew she was lost. The sound of his voice and the feel of his moist, talented tongue were more erotic than any experience she could ever imagine. Her knees weakened, almost buckling beneath her lust-induced weight. “Take me to bed, John. Please.” Her voice sounded as if it was coming from afar but evidently John heard it because he soon had her settled on the center of his bed. “Gorgeous,” he said, looking at her as if she were a priceless work of art. Zoe had always been comfortable with her body and her sexuality, so felt no need to hide even if her cheeks were tinged pink. She could feel the heat as it radiated out until the tops of her breasts were also flushed. Their eyes met and held as John shrugged out of his shirt. Zoe lifted herself to her elbows in anticipation of what was to come next. With deft fingers, John unfastened his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down, torturing the both of them in the process. Beneath, he wore a dark pair of briefs. Zoe made a mental note to insist on seeing him in nothing more that those briefs one day in the not-so-distant future. Right now though, she was going to get the whole package. She licked her lips, waiting. Ready. Not one to disappoint, John lowered both his jeans and briefs together, working them carefully past the engorged length of his shaft and then his narrow hips before finally lowering them to the floor where he wasted no time in stepping out of them. Zoe was in awe as she saw him, all of him, for the first time. His manly attributes were definitely in proportion with the rest of his overly large frame, and her inner muscles spasmed, sending signals for her to get on with it already. John climbed onto the bed to blanket his body over hers. The skin-to-skin contact sent her senses reeling. When John adjusted so that he was lying off to the side a bit, Zoe felt like crying at the loss. The blunt tip of a finger tracing her vaginal opening made Zoe realize why he’d moved and she lost all thought of

missing the weight of his body against hers. Zoe could feel how wet she was, her scent was in the air, wafting around them as if to prove the point. His finger inched further into her, and another soon joined it. Zoe felt deliciously full and very, very close. Out of her mind with the need to climax, Zoe didn’t see or notice the frown marring John’s brow. His fingers pumped in and out of her, his thumb grazing her sensitive clit. It was more than she could handle and before she knew what hit her, wave upon wave of sensation took her breath, bowing her body as her muscles clenched and relaxed in rapid succession. It took Zoe a minute to realize that John was no longer touching her. He was lying beside her, propped on a pillow, watching. One of his large, work-roughened hands reached out to stroke her damp hair away from her face. “Absolutely beautiful,” he said, his eyes watching her, looking at her as if he’d never seen her before. “I could watch you find pleasure over and over again and never grow tired of it. Do you know that, sweetheart?” he leaned forward to ravish her mouth with his. “One of these days I want you to touch yourself for me, Zoe. I want to sit and watch while you pleasure yourself, knowing you do it for me. Would you do that?” Zoe knew she was lost then. With no hesitation, she nodded her head. Her voice, sultry even to her own ears, filled the quiet room. “I’ll do anything you ask if you’ll love me, John. Right now.” The light in his eyes seemed to dim and for a moment, Zoe was afraid he no longer found her desirable. The thickly veined length of his erection made her realize how wrong she was. “What’s wrong?” He shook his head. “You’re too small, baby. I don’t want to hurt you. Damn! Just my fingers inside of you were a tight fit. I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated. “Come here,” she said, her voice husky with emotion. “Come on, John,” she coaxed. “You won’t hurt me, I promise.” How could she not love this man? There was no denying it, fate had intervened. They belonged together and Zoe was bound and determined to show him just how well. John came to her, touching her reverently. Zoe loved every minute of it. His caresses heightened her building arousal, causing her juices to overflow, dampening her thighs. With one hand, Zoe grasped his hand, guiding it between her thighs so that he could feel her wetness and know exactly how ready her body was to accommodate his. “It’s for you, John. All for you,” she whispered in his ear, lifting her legs until her heels rested on his flanks. Zoe’s mind registered the fact that John was leaning across her, one hand still stroking sensuously between her thighs. Then she heard the crinkle of foil paper and was thankful that at least one of them had half a brain left to think about protection. “Good God, sweetheart.” His groan was long and loud as he entered her so slowly his body shook with the effort. “You’re so tight, so hot you’ll burn me up.” His voice was a ragged whisper. “It’s perfect. We’re perfect,” she said, biting back a gasp at the slight pinch of pain his possession of her caused. Even the pain was arousing, blending with the pleasure until Zoe couldn’t remain still. Her hips lifted of their own accord, her body writhing beneath his. “John,” she gasped when she felt his coarse

pubic hair against her. “Oh God, please move, John. Please ... oh.” Zoe’s voice trailed off as John slowly slid his length out of her until Zoe could feel the bulbous head of his rigid shaft lodged just within her entrance; it made her wild, wanton. Willing to say and do things she wouldn’t normally have said or done. Clutching at his narrow hips, Zoe pulled John to her. The need to be taken, possessed by this larger-than-life man, was devastatingly intense. “Hurry, John,” Her body was betraying her, ready to climax when she wasn’t yet ready, not until John was buried deep within her body, until they were one. John’s voice was gruff. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, baby,” he said then lunged into her with the ravenous greed of a starving man. Zoe loved every minute of his control over her body. She was more than willing to go with him wherever he led. The air in the room was permeated with the scent of their lovemaking. The sound of flesh upon flesh rang clear, interrupted only by words of passion and joy as John and Zoe climbed to new heights. The ensuing climax that rocked their bodies went above and beyond any normal experience. Zoe felt John stiffen above her, the throb of his latex-covered erection buried deep inside her body send her spiraling through another mind-shattering orgasm before she felt the weight of John’s body lying heavily against her. When their breathing resumed a more normal pace, John left her side briefly. When he came back, he pulled her tightly to him, holding her without words, and Zoe knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that things would never be the same again. She fell asleep with a smile on her face. Chapter Four John couldn’t have been more wrong with his initial reaction to Zoe. He’d only ever seen her flittering around Cosmic Creations, her mall cart, selling tarot cards and moon rocks. Hell, what was a man supposed to think? Every single day, rain or shine, she ate her lunch outside. On only one occasion she’d talked to him, it had been the day she’d warned him and he’d brushed her off. John still wasn’t sure what to think, but after last night, he knew for a fact she wasn’t the flighty flutterbug he’d thought her to be. She was extremely intelligent and absolutely gorgeous and the way her body had adjusted to him was sinful. Just the memories were enough to make him hard, ready to explode. John was doing everything in his power not to add her to the list of those he needed to protect, those who meant enough to him that he watched over them with an eagle’s eye, like his little sister, Laney. John figured Zoe, like Laney, wouldn’t take too kindly to being protected. He chuckled at the thought. As he drove to the construction site, John wondered if Zoe would do more than just sit outside and watch today. Would she strike up a conversation with him? He’d find out soon enough. John parked his truck in the marked off construction zone, spotting Grant immediately. John climbed out of his truck. “Hey! Grant!” he yelled to get the other man’s attention. Within minutes Grant was at his side. “What’s up?” “Not much,” he answered, a bit irritated and a whole lot horny. Grant gave him a speculative look. “Uh, okay.” Grant didn’t look as though he believed John.

“Could you give the crew their instructions? I’ve got something I need to take care of.” He didn’t wait for a reply. Grant was more than capable of doing what he’d asked. It was going to be a late morning anyway. Due to the late delivery of some supplies they hadn’t been able to start as early as usual. Under normal circumstances that would have been fine. Had Zoe stayed at his house, in his bed where she so obviously belonged, it would have been fabulous. A late morning buried to the hilt inside her wet and willing body. John couldn’t think of anything better. But nooooo, a sarcastic voice drawled in his head. She had to sneak out like a thief in the night, not even saying goodbye, see you later or kiss my ass. Nope, she’d said not a word and that, more than anything, pissed him off. He shook his head. It really was a shame. Everything had been going so smoothly until she up and pulled a stunt like that. He’d been controlling his baser instincts so well. Last night was about as close to gentlemanly as he’d ever come but it was over, and now he’d have to show his cosmic, mall-cart-owning lover who was boss. John rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He was beyond excited. There was just something about riling Zoe that appealed to him. She might seem cool and aloof but he’d had a taste of her passionate side and now he wasn’t willing to settle for less. It was all or nothing and he planned on getting and keeping it all. The wicked grin slid right off his face as he rounded the corner and into the center of the mall. There stood Zoe, his woman, in the arms of another man. A tall thin man whose hair was so white blond he looked like an overgrown tow-headed child. Instant jealousy took over, cutting off all rational thought. He strode to Zoe and the stranger, throwing a doubled-up fist against tow-head’s jaw. From the looks of him, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth, he had no inclination to fight back. “John!” Zoe made his name sound like a curse. Her eyes flashed green lasers at him. “What are you doing?” she said before moving to tow-head’s side where she murmured silly, sympathetic words to him. John wanted to hit him again. “Touch him and he’ll have more that a sore jaw when I’m done.” For a minute, he thought Zoe was going to make him follow through with his threat. From the corner of her eye, she watched him, all the while speaking softly to the other man. She must have sensed something because she made no move to physically help. John took a second to cool off, realizing all at once what he’d done. Good God, she was going to be pissed at him, and it wasn’t the kind of riled he’d been hoping for. No amount of deep breathing seemed to cool his anger. Instead, it just kept growing and bubbling until he thought he might explode. The longer she stayed by tow-head’s side, the worse it got. The beast in him felt like ripping the other man to shreds and dragging her off somewhere where he could mount her and fuck her senseless. The dominant side of him wanted to snap his fingers and have her hustle to his side, no questions asked. John didn’t figure either of those things was going to happen any time in the near future, so he stood and watched and waited. It seemed like he’d waited forever before Zoe finally left tow-head’s side. She marched over to him, small hands fisted on her narrow hips, which were concealed by another long flowing skirt. This one was tie-dyed in an assortment of neutral colors. The tan blouse she wore to compliment it made her sparkle vividly. John briefly wondered if her anger helped.

“You owe the both of us an apology.” For a minute John just stood and stared. The woman must be out of her ever-loving mind if she thought he was going to apologize to the man. After all, a smart man would know better than to put his hands on another man’s woman. A small voice in his head reminded John that there was no way possible the guy could have known Zoe was his woman. Hell, until the second John had seen her in the idiot’s arms, he hadn’t realized it. Zoe stood before him, her hands still fisting on her hips, her eyes narrowed. Damn, she was cute. “Well?” “Well what?” “You can’t be serious! You come to my place of business and hit a customer and then have the audacity to ask me well what!” Oh hell, this was getting worse and worse. Raising a younger sister gave John an insider’s glimpse into a woman’s head and something told him he’d better apologize or things were only going to get worse. John walked to where to where tow-head stood. He thrust out a hand in a gesture of respect. “Sorry ‘bout that, man.” “Uh, no problem,” tow-head answered in a nasally voice, his nose swelling from the impact of John’s fist. When the man tried to pull his hand from John’s grasp, John tightened. “Glad it’s settled then, but next time keep your hands to yourself and save us both the trouble.” Tow-head had no answer, he merely nodded then walked away. **** For several minutes, Zoe just stood there staring at him. There were people mingling around them who also watched, hoping for another show. It was obvious to John that Zoe was angry, but instead of ranting and raving, she just glared. It was almost as if she could see right inside of him. The thought of it, knowing she had gifts he didn’t understand, made him uncomfortable. “Knock it off,” he grumbled. Zoe cocked her head; then scrunched up her nose making the most adorable face. “Knock what off?” she asked. “Whatever it is you’re doing. That voodoo shit. I don’t like you looking at me like that.” John regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. A look of anger and hurt, then finally comprehension crossed her features before she turned and walked away, her shoulders slumped, without so much as an argument. John could just imagine how often she’d had to deal with cruel people. He didn’t want to be one of them. It bothered him that she didn’t stand up for herself. The least she could have done was slap him silly. He deserved it. “Aren’t you going to yell at me or something?” he grouched, following her back to her mall cart.

That stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned and John felt beyond low to see unshed tears hovering in her eyes. “Why? Would it make you change your mind?” When he didn’t say anything, she said. “I didn’t think so.” John followed as she walked away. He knew he owed her an apology, but there was some truth to what he’d said. She did make him feel uncomfortable when she stared at him like that. He wasn’t against people like Zoe, he just didn’t understand them. When it came to Zoe and her gifts, though, John wanted to understand it all. He stopped behind Zoe and pulled her into his arms until her back was snug against his front. The feel of her warm body in his arms was like heaven, even if she was standing as rigid as a fence post. “I’m sorry, baby,” he breathed in her ear, tracing the pretty pink shell with his tongue. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, it’s just that what you do is new to me, new and different. I’d like to understand if you’d be willing to help me.” He was sincere, something Zoe must have picked up on. She turned in his arms, a beautiful smile brightening her face. “Really?” she asked. “Yeah, sweetheart, really.” He pulled her close and kissed her lips. Hell, he’d do anything if it would keep that smile on her face. John scowled when he remembered how she’d smiled that same radiant smile for tow-head. Zoe’s fingers smoothed over John’s brow, her eyes intent on his, silently asking a question. It was as if they didn’t need words to communicate, but John, being the stickler that he was decided to give them to her anyway. “We’ll talk about you letting that tow-headed pretty boy touch you later.” When Zoe opened her mouth, a protest on her lips, John soundly kissed her as he grasped her bottom, pulling her closer. He didn’t care at all that they were standing in the center of the mall with peering eyes all around. All he cared about was that Zoe understood what he was telling her. “Let him touch you again and after I beat him senseless, I’ll spank your ass until it glows pink. Got it?” he questioned. Without waiting for an answer, John devoured her lips one more time in a fierce kiss before sauntering off, a grin tilting his lips. Chapter Five Zoe covered her Cosmic Creations cart after securing all the little trinkets inside the locking cabinets. It was a simple job, one she loved. Meeting different people every day appealed to her senses. She didn’t mind living simply in order to do something she enjoyed, especially when the thought of working in a tiny cubicle, crunching numbers or something similarly appalling, made her shudder. Her inner thoughts brought John to mind. He enjoyed his job. That much Zoe was sure of. She’d spent the past several weeks watching him daily, learning everything she could about him with nothing more than her eyes. John used his hands to build like a pianist used his to create music. It was a beautiful sight to watch. She wondered if John had ever given the gift of his hands more than a passing thought. The direction her thoughts were taking could cause all sorts of mischief. She knew from experience just how talented John’s hands were. He could crook his finger and she’d end up with damp panties. The whole sordid mess could very well end up worse before they got it straightened out. But she was in it for the long haul, and almost sure of the outcome, so she wasn’t going to complain. Instead, she’d sit back and do her best to enjoy the ride. Even when the idiot man did stupid things like hit her friend.

Zoe left the building, walking to the bicycle rack in front of the mall. After unlocking the chain securing her bike, she hiked her skirt up to her knees and climbed on. The trip home was quiet, peaceful. As she pedaled, she wondered how in the world she was going to get to work when she moved to the new apartment her friend Ally had generously offered to share with her. Moving sucked big time, but since there was nothing she could do about the fact that her building had been sold and the new landlord was raising the rent, she decided to make the best out of the situation. She’d just have to leave earlier to get to the mall on time. There wasn’t much else she could do since she didn’t have the cash for a car or the extra funds for upkeep on it. Besides, she’d become a pro at fixing her bike, and if there was anyplace she needed to go that she couldn’t pedal to, she took the county transit. After parking her bike on one side of her tiny living area, Zoe headed for the shower. Steam filled the room as the hot water cascaded over her body, rejuvenating her tired muscles. She pictured John’s hands on her body, moving over every curve, dipping into every valley. It was easy to visualize his hands, wet and soapy, sliding along her skin, causing every nerve in her body to spark to life just as his words and actions demanded her submission. Would he insist she touch herself for him like he’d promised, and if so, could she do it? Zoe knew that she would, but she wouldn’t make it too easy for him. He’d have to work for it, toward it, until they were so ravenous for each other there would be no holding back. Zoe finished her shower, then jumped when a pounding knock rattled her door. Instinctively, she knew who it was. Her heart raced, her feminine muscles twitched with excitement. “Just a minute,” she called, as she slid into her loose-legged pajama bottoms and tank top. The pounding started again only this time it was louder, more insistent. “Open the damned door, Zoe.” The words growled. John’s muffled voice sounded angry even through the wooden door. Zoe swung her front door open, wondering what could have him in such a foul mood this time around. The man really did need to relax a bit more. It wasn’t healthy to be so bullheaded all the time. “Where in the Sam Hill have you been?” he didn’t wait for an answer before continuing on with his rant as he stepped uninvited into her apartment. “I went back in to the mall before heading out but you were already gone. Then I came by here but nobody answered the door, or the phone.” John looked at her, checking her over carefully from the top of her wet head to the tips of her bare toes, then glanced over her shoulder toward her bedroom. What he was silently insinuating made Zoe see red. She wasn’t going to let him get the best of her. “I came home and took a shower.” She made sure the exasperation in her voice rang clear. “Bullshit!” Now he was getting out of hand, and Zoe was getting angry. It wasn’t an emotion she enjoyed. Much too draining. “Think whatever you like, you usually do anyway.” She knew it wasn’t a fair thing to say but she was ticked and her mood wasn’t getting any better. “I came by twice, Zoe. Twice!” he bellowed. “It doesn’t take that long to get from the mall to your apartment.”

Zoe continued to hold on to her anger. It wasn’t easy, but not much worth doing was. “On that it does,” she said, pointing to her bike. John turned his head, following her finger. His eyes widened, then narrowed into dangerous slits. “You rode that home in the dark?” His voice was no longer loud. Now it was low, too low, but Zoe didn’t feel it necessary to heed the warning bells ringing in her head. “Would you rather I walk?” she threw at him, still angry, still remembering the way he’d looked toward her bedroom as if she was hiding a man in there. Not that it was any of his business, but it made her feel dirty. For a moment, Zoe wondered how John could think of her that way, but then a chiding voice invaded her head. You’re the one who had sex with the man on the first date. What did you expect? Too much, evidently. Zoe realized that she was hoping for too much, too soon. It wasn’t going to happen. “I want you to leave, John.” Her voice was much calmer then she felt. Right now she needed some time to think. To take a step back and stop pushing for what she hoped was fated to be. “I’m not going a damned place, Zoe, and I can’t believe you rode a fucking bike home after dark. Hell, this place has got to be a mile from the mall.” “A bit over,” she mumbled. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve got no say in when or where I ride my bike and if you don’t leave I’ll scream until every neighbor is standing on my doorstep.” It was an empty threat, but Zoe was pleased to see it was going to work. John crossed his beefy arms over the wide expanse of his chest. He was beyond angry. He looked as if he could spit nails. “This isn’t over, dammit!” Zoe knew some time was what he needed. What they needed. Things had gotten hot and heavy real quick, leaving little time to deal with a budding relationship. Anger radiated from John in waves. Zoe concentrated on the air around him; the red haze of his aura clearly indicated just how strong his emotions were. She ceased her scrutiny, knowing how much he disliked her using her gifts. That was one of the things he was going to have to come to terms with, because Zoe wasn’t at all willing to change who she was for a man, not any man. “Yes it is, at least for now. Please leave.” The need to rant and rave and even cry was strong as he walked out the door. She wanted to beg him back, to ask why he could think her low enough to give herself freely to him, and then turn around and do the same with another. He may not have said the words, but his attitude and actions were proof enough in her opinion. It was hard to remind herself that what was fated to happen would happen in its own time, not before. There was little comfort to be found that night tangled in the cold sheets of her bed and the next morning, when a silently angry John showed up, insisting he drive her to work, Zoe knew the long day ahead would most likely be more of the same. Chapter Six John’s day was long and rigorous. Taking on every extra task he could manage kept him from rushing into the mall to check on Zoe. He was still irritated and angry and it seemed to be getting worse instead of better. By the end of the day, he was in no mood for a simple greeting, much less conversation or

company. Being in a foul mood gave John what he considered the perfect excuse to drive Zoe home with not much more that a curt command to get in to his truck. When he finally pulled up in front of her run-down apartment building, he was glad it was over. How she could seem so calm, so cool when he was ready to boil over was beyond him, but it added to his irritation, which could cause a hell of an explosive situation. One John didn’t want to have to deal with. Once Zoe had safely let herself into her apartment, closing the door behind her, John drove the several miles to his own home where he showered, hoping to calm his frayed nerves. It helped a bit. At least he didn’t feel as though he was going to explode anymore. For about an hour, John prowled around his house like a caged tiger. He was angry with himself for going off on Zoe the way he did and angry with her for taking stupid risks like riding a goddamned bike home after dark. Remembering the brief flash of pain in her eyes wasn’t easy to deal with either. Except for possessive jealousy, John couldn’t figure out why he’d treated her so unfairly. He’d degraded her by insinuating she’d been with another man when he’d known damned good and well that she hadn’t. He briefly wondered if all men were idiots. Evidently not, because some were happily married, like his brother-in-law, Luke. And others were in the process of taking the huge step of moving in with their women, like Grant. Maybe it’s just me, he thought, disgusted with himself. The not knowing and the combination of guilt and anger were eating at him so he decided to stop by Ally’s apartment above Leather and Lace and see if Grant and Ally needed any help moving her stuff. It was the least he could do for the couple who had become like family, both having helped Elena, his sister, in one way or another. The drive took only a few minutes, but John continued to brood the whole way, irritated at the way that Zoe had kicked him out of her apartment the night before. He knew he deserved it, but it still rubbed him the wrong way. He’d wanted nothing more than to throw her to the floor and pounce on her, to tease and torture her until she gave up and begged him to stay, to touch and worship her body, to fuck her silly. Instead, she’d kicked him out and hadn’t bothered to even initiate a conversation since. She’d even gone as far as not eating her lunch outside. In all honesty, he could admit that was at the top of the list of things bothering him. He’d deal with it though. If she thought to avoid him, then that was just fine. As a matter of fact, it was probably for the best, he thought, as he parked his truck at the side entrance to Leather and Lace where he could access the upstairs apartment without going through the store. As he made his way up the stairs, John heard Grant’s booming laughter. It was good to hear the man laugh. The past year hadn’t treated him kindly. John knocked at the door, hoping Grant’s good humor would rub off on him. He waited a couple of minutes before knocking again, this time with a bit more power behind it. When the door finally swung open, Ally was standing at the threshold looking a bit nervous. John wondered if he should apologize for interrupting something. “Uh, hi John. What brings you over?” Ally asked, stepping aside to let him in the apartment. John leaned way down to give Ally a peck on her dimpled cheek before saying, “Not much. Just thought

I’d see how you two were coming along,” he said as he looked up and into a set of very beautiful, very familiar green eyes. Shock didn’t come close to what he was feeling. He’d all but coerced himself into believing that he could care less where Zoe ate her lunch or whether she contacted him and now here she was, flesh and blood, standing before him as cool as a cucumber, like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Zoe? What in the hell are you doing here?” Other than a slight arch of her perfectly shaped brows, Zoe didn’t act as if she cared. Her whole aloof attitude made John spitting mad. He knew he was being a jerk but didn’t give a rat’s ass. What bothered him was that Zoe didn’t act at all distressed over the fact that they’d had a falling out. “Hi John, it’s nice to see you too.” The words were sarcastically sweet, toxic. John was ready to drag Zoe from Ally’s apartment kicking and screaming when Grant lifted Ally up and over his shoulder, then proceeded to the door, leaving them alone. He would have to remember to thank Grant the next time he had the chance. Waiting until they were out the door was hard, keeping his temper in the face of his calm and cool lover was impossible, especially when he was angry and horny. She stood across the room from him in the same exact spot she’d been when he’d entered the room. Her jeans were wide-legged and rode low on her hips, not quite meeting the bottom of her multi-colored tank top. The silky strands of her golden blonde hair were held up in a ponytail that looked as if it had been whipped around by the wind. “You rode your bike here.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement. Zoe, recognizing his tone, bristled at the impact of his voice before composing herself but she never acted as if she would answer. He’d had just about enough. With determined strides, John stalked across the room until he was mere inches from Zoe. Her fresh, womanly scent surrounded him, tickling his senses until his cock tightened against the confines of his jeans. “You never answered by question, Zoe. What are you doing here?” As John spoke, he moved forward, causing her to retreat a step for every one he took. When she had her back against the wall, John leaned in, resting his forearm against the wall beside her head, bringing him so close to her that he could smell the scent of mint on her breath. She licked her lips, her first real sign of nervousness, but he wasn’t ready to let up. He wanted to see her ruffled and unsure. He wanted to hear her whimper and make those wonderful noises she made when he touched her. Only he wasn’t ready to touch her just yet. To do so would be to lose himself. There was something about touching Zoe that was different. Every time he touched her it was as if her warmth, her very soul, somehow invaded his body, beginning with a warm tingling sensation to the arms. It never just stayed in his arms though. No, it radiated through him at full speed until it gathered just below his belt, making his cock lengthen and throb in time with his rapidly increasing pulse. That wasn’t something John was ready to deal with just yet. He was already hard, to touch Zoe would probably send him over, leaving nothing left for him to concentrate on save the need to feel her silky tight sheath engulfing every inch of him. That wouldn’t work at all because right now what he needed were answers. “Zoe?” he prompted his voice a low growl, insistent sounding, even to his own ears.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I live here now. I needed a place and after meeting Ally at the mall a few times, we decided to become roommates. That was before she decided to move in with Grant though, so now the whole place will be mine.” John looked around the small apartment and could see why Zoe would rather live above Leather and Lace than in the apartment she currently occupied. Compared to the Cracker Jack box-sized hole she was living in now, this place had a whole lot of potential. But it was farther to the mall than her old place was, and other than a backpack sitting on the floor next to her feet, there wasn’t a piece of furniture in the place. “That doesn’t answer the question as to why you’re here right now, tonight. It’s been dark for over an hour, how were you planning on getting home?” John prepared himself, but he didn’t think it would do any good because if she said she was going to ride her bike, in the dark, there was going to be hell to pay. “I am home,” she said. “I’m staying here tonight.” John felt his patience slipping. He tilted his head back and silently counted to ten, breathing deeply as he did so. “There is nothing here for you, sweetheart,” he said, hoping that his coaxing tone would have a better effect. “Come home with me tonight and I’ll help you get your stuff over her tomorrow.” It sounded like a question but in reality, it wasn’t. There was no way he was going to leave Zoe in an empty apartment or allow her to ride her bike home in the dark, alone. It came down to one of two choices. He could either give her and her bike a ride home, or she could go to his place. John leaned in closer, kissing Zoe until she was breathless and her pouty lips were pink and swollen. He could feel the beat of her heart against his chest and see the rapid flutter of the vein just beneath the surface of the tender flesh of her neck. Her eyes were glazed, aroused, just the way he wanted her. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” Zoe said, placing her hands on his chest. It was just as he knew it would be. The simple contact made him crazy for her. He gritted his teeth with the effort to refrain from throwing her to the floor. “Not this time, baby. Not this time,” he groaned, losing the battle. John lowered his head until their lips met again. It was no sweet kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips as his hands sought her head, holding her still for his kiss. The inner recess of her mouth was warm and sweet against his tongue. Almost as good as he knew her pussy to be. The warmth and willingness of her body as it melted against his urged him on, and before long, his hands were roaming beneath her blouse. She was braless, only wearing a silky undershirt of some sort, something John couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed. Her nipples peaked at his touch, pushing against her tank top as if begging for the touch of his mouth, his tongue. John knew if he continued kissing her, tasting her, he’d be lost. With great effort, he pushed himself away from her. Her eyes were wild now, filled with the same lust coursing through his veins. “Time to go,” he said sternly as he bent to pick up her backpack. John dug in his pocket searching for the keys to his truck. Handing them to Zoe, he said. “Go get in my truck. I’ll bring your bike up here and lock up.” John was ready for an argument, instead, Zoe just stood there. Staring as if she was concentrating. “Don’t think about it; just do what I told you to do.”

His voice was gruff, impatient, but it got Zoe moving in the right direction. If he didn’t get her to his house and quick, he was going to make an ass out of himself by taking her on the bare floor of her empty apartment building without so much as a blanket for comfort. Chapter Seven Anger was a draining emotion and right now, Zoe was feeling drained. It pissed her off to no end that John could kiss her into oblivion, changing her from the self-sufficient woman she knew herself to be to a clingy woman who would follow him anywhere for the sake of getting off. It was downright sick. By the time they reached John’s house, Zoe was ready to scream. Her body ached with need. She felt as though she could crawl right out of her skin and it was all John’s fault, the damned jealous idiot. As soon as he pulled the truck to a complete stop, Zoe was out of it. John came around to open her door but was too late by far. He gave her a look of warning as if he could sense her mood, her mounting anger. Zoe walked to the front door even though what she really wanted to do was stomp her way there like a child throwing a fit. John held the key in his white-knuckled hand and just started at her. “Are you going to open the door or just stand there?” she asked, knowing full well that she was pushing and wouldn’t get away with it. He’d either kick her out on her ass or they’d end up in another yelling match. At least those were her first thoughts on the matter. However, when he backed her up against the closed door and ardently kissed her neck, running his large palms over the erect tips of her sensitive breasts, she began to wonder. Ending the kiss, John opened the front door, saying not a word as he flicked the light on and shut the door behind him with a snap. The lock clicked, reverberating throughout the room like a shot in the dark. After throwing her backpack onto a nearby chair, John moved toward her, his speed and grace not at all that of a man so large. “What do you want from me?” she asked, backing away from him. “I can’t think when you do this to me. Every time you touch me, I ... I...” Zoe stuttered as she bumped into something. The corner of John’s sectional sofa set was at her back, trapping her. It took no more than a gentle nudge from John to send her sprawling back onto the soft couch cushions. When she tried to get up, John straddled her hips with his thighs. “You’re not going anywhere Zoe, so you might as well sit your ass still.” The stern words roused her anger to the point where she thought her head would explode with it. She wanted to scream for him to get off her but her body, against her will, was reacting on its own. “I want you to take me home, John. Now,” Zoe squeaked, not sounding at all convincing as John’s hand cradled her head, his teeth nipping her bottom lip before his mouth settled over hers, claiming the purring moan she couldn’t hold back. Then he laughed at her. The arrogant ass actually laughed at her! Just hearing the rumble of laughter from his chest sent Zoe into fight mode, causing her to begin struggling in earnest. Zoe wasn’t thinking clearly or she would have realized just how futile her struggles really were against John’s massive size, especially given the fact that his dominant behavior had her so wet, so aroused, that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle the sensations coursing through her body. She bucked her hips, hoping to knock his arrogant self off of her, but all it did was leave her breathless. Her flailing arms were pinned effortlessly within one of John’s large fists, but not even that could stop her. Evidently John’s patience only went so far because when she leaned forward to bite him, he fisted her hair in his hand and tugged until her neck arched back.

Her heart raced and her chest heaved with the exertion to breathe through the upheaval of emotions consuming her. Never before had she felt so angry, not even when she was called a freak or told by her parents to stop using her gifts or else. She could never remember feeling so sexually on edge that she actually hurt with it. Only John Richardson could do this to her. That in and of itself was something that couldn’t be denied, something even she wasn’t ready to deal with. His mouth swooped down, delivering a stinging kiss that was neither gentle nor romantic and Zoe sure the hell wasn’t going to admit that it was arousing. Making admissions like that would eventually end her in a huge mess of trouble. His tongue plundered her mouth, forcing its way past the barrier of her teeth. Zoe stilled, vindictive thoughts whirling through her head. “Bite me and I’ll bite you back, sweetheart, right after I spank your sexy ass.” The words were breathed across her lips. Zoe shivered at their intensity. “Let me go, John. I don’t want this.” The words were bit out through clenched teeth. His overly large hand fisted in her hair, reminded her who was in charge. The next step was his. Zoe tried to relax into his hold, wondering what he would do. His eyes bore into hers as if he just realized what he was doing. The hand grasping her hair loosened its hold, but not altogether. “Look me in the eye and say the words, sweetheart. Tell me you don’t want me to take you, tell me you don’t want me to love every inch of your beautiful body until you scream, Zoe. Tell me that and I’ll stop.” Zoe’s lips parted, but no words came forth. She couldn’t tell him that because if she looked really hard, past the anger and into her very soul, that was exactly what she wanted. Her trust in John was enormous and although he might seem rough around the edges, especially when angry, Zoe knew he would never hurt her. “Tell me, Zoe.” John looked her in the eye as he released her hands to brush a fingertip over a peaked breast. “I can’t,” she sobbed at his touch. Zoe arched her hips trying to get close to what her body craved. Her hands, now free, fumbled with John’s pants. If she didn’t feel his shaft inside of her soon, she was going to die. John pushed her hands away. “Uh-uh, baby. Keep your hands to yourself,” he said, placing them at her sides, which was a joke because at this point in the game, there was no holding back. The insistent voice in her head telling her to rush him, to get on with it, won out and soon Zoe found her hands back on the fly of his jeans. “Dammit Zoe, knock it off.” His voice boomed through the house. Zoe was sure it rattled the windows. Letting go of Zoe’s hair in exchange for her hands, John leaned forward over her as if reaching for something. His massive body moved as he gave a tug to whatever it was he was aiming for before he sat back, once again straddling her legs. Zoe’s throat worked convulsively when she saw what he held in his hand. The sheer piece of fabric was long and narrow, perfect for binding her hands together. She knew instinctively that was what he had in

mind, and although she’d had a few dreams involving John and ties, she wasn’t so sure right now was the right time. Right now she needed more than anything to touch him, every inch of him. “What’s that for?” she asked, her voice a pitch higher than normal as she motioned with her head to what he held in his free hand. Zoe was trying with all her might to tug her hands from John’s iron grasp but it was no use. “You know exactly what it’s for,” he said as he wrapped her wrists several times before tying the ends off in some sort of fancy knot. John leaned back a bit, and then pulled her shirt over her head. It was trapped due to her bound hands, but John didn’t seem to mind. Her camisole came next leaving Zoe bare from the waist up. There was no time to complain before John’s warm mouth covered a turgid nipple, drawing on it deeply until it throbbed in a combination of pleasure and pain. He continued the exquisite torture, switching sides until Zoe was frantic with need. Her bound hands made it impossible to stroke John’s body as she longed to, filling her both with frustration and all-consuming arousal. It was sexual torture of the best and worst kind. John left her breasts, sliding from the couch until he was before her on the floor, his lips tickling her belly, then moving lower. His thick, blunt-tipped fingers unfastened the snap of her jeans. Without being asked to, Zoe lifted her hips, allowing John to slide both her pants and her panties down her legs and off her feet. No longer was she angry. Now she was just needy, extremely needy. So needy she thought she might just die if he didn’t do something quickly. “Oh, John,” she said, reaching for him with her bound hands. “I ... uh, oh please.” Zoe panted through pursed lips as John’s warm breath fanned across the dew-covered hair of her slick mound. She felt as though she might go up in flames at any moment. The feel of his tongue sliding along her opening brought her to peak, but just as her thighs started trembling and she thought she would plummet over, John stopped. Zoe, who had all but forgotten her anger, was once again irritated as hell and all because of John. Chapter Eight “Tell me you want me,” John insisted, his words sounding far away even to his own ears. Zoe’s eyelids fluttered, then popped open. Green and angry, they looked like bottomless pools of desire. “Tell me you want me,” he repeated himself, rubbing one ringer along Zoe’s slit. She was warm and wet. John brought the single digit to his mouth and licked it clean. Zoe watched as if she were in a trance. “I want you Zoe, but I won’t take you until you tell me you want me to, that you want me.” Zoe watched his hand as he lowered it slowly to the damp place between her thighs. “Tell me.” He traced her with one finger. First up until he almost touched her clit but not quite, making her shudder, then back down until his finger nestled in the crevice of her bottom, where he teased the tiny puckered opening of her anus. Her eyes widened and her breathing grew even more labored. After pulling her thighs, moving her lower on the couch for better access, John added more pressure to the forbidden entrance of her rosette. “Tell me.”

John watched as Zoe’s face flushed. “I want you, John! ” Her voice was raspy, rubbing every nerve ending raw. “I want you so bad ... I ... please John, I’m yours.” “To do whatever I want with,” he prompted. John was sure Zoe would give him hell when she was once again in the right frame of mind, but it would be worth it. “Oh God, yes! Whatever you want. Just don’t stop.” Once the words spilled from her mouth, John pulled his finger from Zoe’s body. The small sounds coming from her were almost too much to handle, but he wasn’t ready for the finale just yet. I’m yours. Her words rang through his head even as his hand longed to feel the smooth flesh of her ass against the palm of his hand. John was sure she was going to love every minute of it. He stood from his spot on the floor and helped Zoe from the couch, her hands still bound in front of her. John led her two steps to the coffee table where he helped her lie belly-down across its surface until she was settled comfortably with her ass perfectly positioned for him. Carressing her ass briefly, he gave no word of warning before the first smacking blow landed. Her body tightened in surprise but the only sound she made after relaxing a bit was a deep throaty moan. Oh yeah, he told himself, she was going to be the one. John continued to pepper the now rosy flesh of her ass, making sure to give enough time in between each swat for Zoe to catch her breath and enjoy the burn. Her moans grew, causing John’s cock spring to life. He was so hard that his jeans were uncomfortably tight. When he returned to the tender flesh of Zoe’s upper thighs she began to chant. “Oh, oh my. Oh John ... oh.” Her breathy pleas knocked the air out of him. He had to have her and he had to have her now. John unfastened his jeans and lowered them and his boxer briefs enough to allow his erect cock to spring free. It was all he had time for. Moving directly behind Zoe, he lifted her a bit until her ass rode high on the table; then plunged into her tight pussy in one quick thrust causing them both to gasp. “Fuck baby, you’re so damned tight.” John grunted as he thrust over and over again. “So damned tight. You’re perfect.” John was almost there. He could feel the tell-tale tingling at his lower spine. His balls were drawn up tight against his body. The tiny spasms squeezing the length of his cock told just how close Zoe was also. Wanting this to be an unforgettably mind-blowing orgasm for Zoe, John once again located her anus with a single finger as he continued to thrust in and out of her tight sheath. “Oh please, John. Please,” Zoe begged him. John pushed until the tip of his finger was being grasped by the tight ring of muscle protecting Zoe’s anal entrance. When she pushed back, burying his finger deeper, John thought he might go crazy with the need to take her there. He parted her cheeks with one hand while he continued invading her with a finger from the other hand. The sight of his cock lodged between the lips of her pink pussy, moving in and out, and his finger breaching her back entrance was so erotic, so hot, John knew he was lost. He gave a firm push, burying his finger completely within her depths; then pulled out until only the tip remained only to push home again. Zoe’s back arched with his finger’s invasion. Then her whole body

stilled as a keening cry was torn from her lips. The clenching of her muscles on his cock and finger sent John spiraling over, a grunt of completion leaving his lips as he thrust home a final time, spilling himself, before he collapsed on top of Zoe where she lay still on the glass surface of his coffee table. It seemed like hours or even days had passed them by, but the clock on the wall proved it had only been minutes. John extracted himself from Zoe’s warm pussy; then proceeded to untie her wrists and carry her to his room, where he settled her in his bed and crawled in beside her. John pulled Zoe to him, an arm across her waist. A smile of sheer joy crossed his face when she mumbled sleepily and cuddled into him. The feel of her hot breath against his chest brought his cock raging back to life. He’d give her a bit to rest before he once again loved her thoroughly. Love? Where had that come from? Did he really love her or was it just lust? John did his best to vanquish all those concerns. Right now he would just enjoy the feel of her body against his. Tomorrow he would deal with the aftermath. He had a feeling Zoe was going to be spitting mad in the morning, but he wouldn’t let that get him down, not yet, not when he had the whole night to try and change her mind. Chapter Nine Stretching had never felt so good, Zoe thought, as muscles she never realized she had made themselves known. Her inner thighs ached deliciously, forcing memories of the night before to the forefront of her mind. It had been wonderful. Even in anger, John had managed to love her beyond her wildest dreams. Speaking of dreams, that spanking had been at the top of her fantasy list for years. She’d have to thank John for his role in making sure the experience was unbelievable. Zoe stretched again, languidly this time, enjoying every pull of her muscles. She arched her back; then stilled when she felt warm, moist lips just beneath her ear. “Mornin’,” John said, his voice low and rumbling. Zoe turned until she faced him. Hiking her leg over both of his, she pulled herself closer until she could feel the heat of his morning erection. “Morning.” John looked as if he wanted to say something and yet, at the same time, he seemed hesitant, which seemed strange after last night. Zoe could feel the conflicting emotions as they bled in waves away from his body. He wasn’t the easiest man to read, but they were so connected that it never took long to see him, really see him. As she watched him from their close distance, she noticed that John seemed to stiffen against her, his eyes narrowed. Something was going to have to give, Zoe thought. And now was as good a time as any to get him to listen. “I know you don’t like what I do, or who I am, John.” It was hard to keep the hurt from her voice. “My parents didn’t either. It’s the reason they turned their backs on me.” Zoe worked furiously to keep the sorrow from seeping into her words. “It’s silly really, if you just think about it. I can’t read your mind or steal your soul or anything like that.” Zoe shook her head, not sure how to make him understand. It seemed that ignorance in people would forever remain her number one enemy. “It’s part of who I am, in here,” she said bringing a fisted hand to her chest. “I can’t get rid of it any more than I can stop needing

air to breathe.” Zoe pulled her leg from John’s. She needed to get up, to walk so she could think but John had other plans. With an arm banded around her waist and a hand at her chin, he turned her back to him, until she was looking straight at him. “Tell me, Zoe. I won’t say I’m comfortable with it, but I want to understand.” She sat up on the bed and tried not to show her surprise at the fact that John let her go so easily. “I don’t really know how to explain it. I just feel things and see things. Not necessarily specific things. I can usually tell right away if I like someone and if just talking to them doesn’t work, touching always does.” John gave a disgruntled groan at her words, making Zoe remember his jealousy in the mall that day not so long ago. Zoe smiled at him. “There are just people I feel comfortable touching. People I enjoy touching. It is amazing to feel their energy pour over me, course through me. Sometimes it’s not good but I’ve learned, over the years, how to separate myself from most of the bad. There was a time when that wasn’t something I could boast.” When John spoke, Zoe wanted to laugh at his petulant words. “The only person I want you touching is me.” “John,” Zoe scolded, exasperation in her voice. Irritation made John’s voice menacingly low. “I mean it, and believe me, baby, it wouldn’t be in your best interest to push me on this one.” Zoe skin tingled from head to toe. “Is that a promise or a threat?” she asked saucily, sitting up straighter, allowing the sheet to pool at her hips, leaving her breasts naked to his gaze. “It’s a warning.” Zoe sat perfectly still as John reached out with a single hand to cup the weight of first one breast and then the other, taking a few minutes in between to roll her sensitive nipples between his fingers. “Now, tell me some more.” Zoe could scarcely breathe, much less talk, but she knew how important it was to their relationship to get this specific conversation over and done with. “What I do at the mall is more for a paycheck, because I don’t believe in exploiting people. My success rate is pretty high, but no one is perfect. A lot of people don’t understand that. They think they can come to me for information on what will happen in their future. What most don’t understand is that humans are beings born with free will. That alone makes for an ever-changing future that even I can’t predict.” The more she talked about herself and her gifts, the more comfortable she became. Soon, she was relaxing, leaning her back against John’s hip as he lay on his side facing her. His fingers traveled over her body stopping every once in a while to tease and torture. “So you don’t see things most of the time?” John asked. Zoe cocked her head, thinking on how to answer that one. “No, I don’t see things like you might think. I see auras pretty well,” she said, then went on to explain to John what an aura was and what the colors could signify. “Mostly I feel things and sometimes my mind conjures up a picture to go along with the feelings, but not always. Like your sign. I remember one day I was sitting at the table where I always eat

my lunch. I spent the whole time wondering what your sign is. The more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I think I might have been right.” “Sign?” John asked, looking at her like she’d lost her marbles. “When is your birthday, John?” He answered with the slightest hesitation, making Zoe smile. “May sixth,” he finally answered. Zoe laughed. “I was right,” she said, clapping her hands. “I knew it almost from the moment I saw you, big and strong and stubborn as a bull. Taurus, it fits you perfectly.” “You mean to tell me that you knew when my birthday was without my telling you?” he looked absolutely stunned. “No John, I didn’t know what day you were born, I just guessed under which sign. You being a Taurus is probably why we are so explosive together. I’m a Libra, both of our signs are ruled by Venus.” This time his look was comical and beyond comical. Zoe couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “Taurus is an earth sign known for a good sense of material values. You are the most conservative sign of the zodiac. Possessions, including people, are very important to you. You’ll watch over them jealously and if a Taurus feels his possessions are threatened, he may react violently.” John was still watching her, studying her every move as she talked, making motions with her hands. “A Taurus will plod through problems in a deliberate and methodical way, thinking through each step. And as we already know, you are quite persistent to the point of being obstinate and stubborn. And not at all afraid of hard work. By nature, you’re inclined to be sensual,” Zoe murmured, rolling John to his back so she could straddle his hips. “That relates to our Venus rulership,” she added, lifting herself just enough so that she could line the head of his penis up with her soaking-wet slit. Zoe’s lesson on John’s zodiac sign ended abruptly as she lowered herself, taking his full length completely inside her gripping sheath. She rode him fast and furiously, sending them both over the edge within a matter of minutes before collapsing forward onto his chest. “We’re very connected,” Zoe said softly once she’d caught her breath. “I’ve known it for a long time, since the first day your crew came to work at the mall. That was also the day I fell in love with you.” The last was said in a husky whisper. John’s hand stilled on her back. “What did you say?” His voice was smooth. It flowed over her body, making her aware of their nudity, the way they were still intimately connected. “I said I’ve known I loved you since the first time I saw you.” “Say it again,” he insisted, his voice unbelieving. “I love you.” There was nothing to it, the word came easily and although she hadn’t expected to hear the words in return, Zoe couldn’t help but be bothered anyway when he didn’t say them. Chapter Ten John couldn’t believe it had already been a week since Zoe had confessed her love for him. Seven days and he hadn’t yet found the courage to say the words in return. Never before had he considered himself a coward, but this time there was no other viable explanation. What baffled him most was that not once had she complained or pouted over it. Hell, he’d even gone as

far as to ask her why she was willing to let him love her every night if he couldn’t say the words in return. “Because you show me every time you touch me, with your hands, your eyes and your mouth, that you love me. The words are nice, John, but I don’t want them until you’re ready to give them freely.” He’d held her tight after that, bestowing kiss after kiss on her gorgeous mouth. He’d never before come across such an erotic set of lips on a woman and the things they could do. Remembering exactly how talented her mouth was brought his cock to attention and within minutes, he was aching and in need. Then she’d gone and done something he’d only ever dreamed of witnessing, she’d played with herself with a blue sparkly vibrator right in front of him. He could still picture her clearly in his mind. The milky white of her widely parted thighs contrasted against the darker crown of curls covering her pretty pink pussy. He’d watched with devoted attention as she spread her lips with her fingers, slipping the vibrator deep inside, inch by glorious inch. He’d been panting and stroking the length of his cock, ready to explode, long before a sensual cry of release broke from her throat. No longer able to hold back, John had quickly removed the dildo and embedded his length completely within her folds. Using the vibrator on her clit, he’d brought her orgasm after trembling orgasm, not stopping until she’d screamed for mercy. John grimaced as he left the construction zone, making his way into the mall. His shaft rubbed obnoxiously against the zippered seam of his jeans. He was a few minutes early, but there sat Zoe, the cover securely attached over her cart, purse in hand, looking as if she was ready to go. “Hi, sweetheart,” John said huskily, pulling her close. “Mmm,” she answered against his lips. “You’re ready early. Have anything good planned?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. “I saw Elena today.” “My sister?” It took John a few minutes to get his brain to switch gears. Zoe stood, then put her hand in his, threading their fingers together. “Yeah. I think maybe you should call her.” John stopped in his tracks. In the past week he’d learned a lot about Zoe, about her gifts, and although he was still unsure on occasion, he trusted her wholeheartedly. “Is something wrong?” he asked, steeling himself for the worst. Her fingers soothed his palm. “Not at all. I don’t even know if it’s anything at all, but today when I saw her, her aura seemed different.” John tugged Zoe to the door as she continued to talk. All he got out of the one-sided conversation was something about twinkles in Elena’s aura, the rest sounded as if it were in a foreign language. As John climbed into his truck, his cell phone rang. It was Luke letting him know that he and Elena were at the hospital. Everything was fine and from what the doctor said, it was going to be a while yet. John hung up his phone, a sense of relief washing over him. He turned to look at Zoe who had a radiant smile on her face and a tear trickling down her cheek. She looked at him and blinked as if her mind had just come back from somewhere else. “He’s going to be beautiful,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

John could not take his eyes from her bright eyes, her wide smile. “You’re beautiful,” he said, pulling Zoe closer until she was sitting in the middle of the bench seat right next to him. “I love you more every day.” John chuckled when Zoe seemed a bit dazed by his words. “You can tell my sister is going into labor, then spring on me the news that the baby will be a boy before he’s even here, but you look shell shocked when I tell you I love you.” He shook his head; then lowered it for another soul-shattering kiss. “I do, you know? I love you with everything that I am. And now that I’ve said it, I’m wondering why I was such an idiot. Why I was too chicken to say it before.” Zoe covered his mouth with hers, cutting off his words. When her tongue traced the seam of his lips, John thought he’d died and gone to heaven. “You didn’t say it because you weren’t ready, it wasn’t time.” John cupped Zoe’s face, tilting her head back so that he had better access to her mouth. “Now it’s time,” he said, his lips a breath away from hers. “I love you, Zoe, and I’ll never stop showing you or telling you just how much.” “I love you too John. I always have and I always will. We’re connected, meant to be.” John kissed Zoe with wild abandon only to be interrupted by a knock on the window of his truck. Grant and Ally stood there with Cheshire cat smiles spread across their faces. “Are you going to the hospital or what?” Grant insisted. John smiled, pulled Zoe to his side; then started his truck. “Yep, got a new nephew to meet.” Grant and Ally both stared as if they’d lost their wits. John laughed, pulled Zoe impossibly closer, and then pulled out of the mall parking lot heading toward the hospital with not a doubt in his mind that Elena and Luke’s baby would be a boy. Life with Zoe was certainly going to be interesting. The End About the Author: Maggie Casper’s life could be called many things, but boring isn’t one of them. If asked, Maggie would tell you that blessed would more aptly describe her everyday existence. Marrying young and being loved by a great husband and four gorgeous daughters should be enough to make anybody feel blessed. Add to that a bit of challenge, a lot of fun and an undeniably close circle of friends and family, and you’d be walking in her shoes. Speaking of challenges and fun, when not writing, Maggie’s alter ego spends her time fighting fires and treating patients as a Lieutenant and Advanced Emergency Medical Technician with the local fire department. These awesome people are like her second family, no picking and choosing, they’re just stuck with her. A love of reading was passed on by Maggie’s mother at a very early age and so began her addiction to romance novels. Maggie admits to writing some in high school but when life got in the way, she put her pen and paper up. Seems that things changed over the years because when she finally decided it was time to put her story ideas on paper the pen was out and the computer was in. Took her a while to catch up but she finally made it.

When not writing, Maggie can usually be found reading, doing genealogy research or watching NASCAR. If you’d like, drop by www.maggiecasper.com to see what Maggie’s working on next. Meet LSB Authors At http://lsbooks.net We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books http://lsbooks.com for other exciting literary erotica romances. Weekend Games--Chris Tanglen Destiny's Magick--Rae Morgan Love Lessons--Vanessa Hart Portal--Sydney Morgann Bittersweet--Louisa Trent Business or Pleasure...or Both?--Rae Morgan and Jasmine Haynes And many, many more!!