Keyboards and Kink (14 page)

“Shut up. Relax and enjoy it, you whore.”

The air filled with the scent of ozone. A noise like
a tornado tore up the stairs. JohnBoy grunted as someone lifted him
off her, then yelled as he was tossed down the stairs. He landed at
the bottom with a sickening thump as his head connected with the
tile floor.

Ursula couldn’t catch her breath as she sobbed.
Reynold’s strong arms enfolded her. “It’s all right. I’m here.
You’re okay now.”

“He…the site…hacked…JohnBoy…” She couldn’t speak.

“All that matters right now is that you’re safe.”

“I tried to call you.”

“I heard you,” he said gently.

“I was so scared.” She couldn’t stop trembling. “We
have to call the police. He might be dead.”

“I hope he is.” His voice shook. “If he had touched
you…”

“I’m okay. You’re here. I’m okay now.” And if she had
anything to say about it she’d never leave his arms again.

****

Ursula couldn’t fall asleep after the police and
ambulance left. She lay in Reynold’s arms, trying to forget the
lust in JohnBoy’s voice and the sick gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t leave me again.”

“Ursula, no one has ever hacked into that site. I’m
so sorry.” Reynold looked down into her face, pain in his beautiful
eyes. “I took your profile off. No one will ever find you
again.”

“What about the other members?”

He sighed. “I’m thinking of shutting the site down. I
can’t take the chance something like this will happen again.”

“What?” She sat up. “But you love doing this, don’t
you?”

He shrugged. “I do, but…well…I don’t need it
anymore.”

“I don’t understand.” A crazy hope began to build,
but she was afraid to let it take shape, so she changed the
subject. “What happened with Derek? Is he all right?”

Reynold cupped her face, his look so tender fresh
tears began to flow. “He is now. But we’re talking about you,
Ursula.”

“It’s impossible,” she whispered, shaking her
head.

The trepidation on his face nearly broke her heart.
“I thought so too. I vowed never to love again. Not after Dyvia
betrayed me. But you…I can’t fight this, Ursula. I love you. I
won’t ask you to change, to cross over. That’s not a decision to be
taken lightly. All I’m asking is that you give us a chance, for
now, to make this work.”

He stroked her arms, his touch warm and gentle. “I
think I’ve loved you since you wrote your first story.”

“Oh, Reynold.” She swiped at the tears rolling down
her cheeks. “I love you too. But this is crazy. How on earth can we
make this work?”

The look of delight on his face made her heart soar.
“I have no idea, but just say you want to try, and we’ll figure out
a way. Say you’ll have me.”

“Yes, oh yes.” She pulled him close as his lips
grazed the wounds on her neck that marked her as his. She trembled
in his embrace. He’d claimed her that first night with his body,
but he’d marked her as his own a year ago the first time she looked
into his eyes. She had always been his, and now she always would
be. Her fantasy lover was real, and he was in her arms,
forever.

The End

Other Books by Carolyn Rosewood:

The Last Soul

Hunted

Playing For Keeps

Midnight Seduction

Stockings and Suspenders

Virgins Behaving Badly

The Rebellious Princess Chooses Two Lovers

Melissa Hosack

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

Hayley stared at the words on her computer monitor
and fought to keep her breath coming in a steady exhale. She
failed, the air trembling shakily past her lips. The words spurred
her heart to pound frantically in her chest.

If I was with you now, I would have my lips buried
between your thighs, licking and nibbling you into a frenzy.

Crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs tightly
together at her sudden rush of arousal, she typed back.
I would
have my hands buried in your hair, urging you on.
Clicking
send, she sat back and eagerly awaited a response. This had been
the ritual with Ben over the past two months.

She’d met him in a chat group for a local book club,
and the two of them hit it off well enough that he requested a
private chat. At first, their discussions had stayed to literature,
but they had quickly moved into other hobbies.

After a few weeks, the flirting had started. Hayley
began making a habit of getting online when she knew Ben would be
available. She’d begun to yearn for his messages, hanging onto
every typed word.

Slowly, the sly flirting had progressed. There’d been
a hint here, a dirty comment there. Now, months later, she found
herself having cybersex with a stranger. She couldn’t resist him no
matter how unconventional their liaison might be.

Ben was so thoughtful and intelligent. He was caring.
He was…perfect.

I want you tugging on my hair while I taste you.

Hayley smiled with pleasure. Ben had a slightly kinky
side to him that matched hers. Rough sex seemed to suit them both
just fine, even if it was only a fantasy. She placed her fingers on
the keys to respond when another message came through.

I want to graze my teeth along your sensitive clit
until I have you screaming your orgasm
—

“Hey, little sister!”

Hayley gave a shout of surprise and slammed down the
screen of her laptop at her older brother’s voice. “Charlie!”

“Jumpy much?” he asked with a chuckle of
amusement.

“Don’t you knock?” Her voice was thick with
accusation as her hand moved to protectively cover the laptop. The
last thing she wanted was for Charlie to read messages she was
receiving from a stranger depicting oral sex in graphic detail.

“I did,” he came back smoothly. “You were too
engrossed in whatever you were doing, so I just came in. You should
really start locking your front door.”

It showed how engrossed she was in her conversation
that Charlie had been able to walk right into her house and make
his way into the kitchen where she sat without her even noticing.
“Why are you even here?” she demanded as her cheeks flushed with
embarrassment.

His brows shot up. “Dinner. Mom and Dad’s house. You
asked to bum a ride. Any of this ringing a bell?”

Hayley flinched. “I forgot.”

“No kidding.” He took a step back and nodded toward
the hallway that led to her bedroom. “Hurry up. Go get ready, so we
can get out of here. You know how mom hates when dinner isn’t on
time.”

Hayley bobbed her head vigorously. “Yeah. I’ll
just…get ready.” She was about to walk away when she remembered her
laptop. She snatched it up off the table and tucked it possessively
under her arm. “I just…need to charge this.” With that, she took
off down the hallway to get ready and to hide her bizarre online
relationship.

****

Forgot I had dinner with the family. Sorry. I got
out of there as soon as I could.
Hayley sent her message off to
Ben and sat back with her breath held. She’d left him hanging with
Charlie’s arrival, but hopefully they would be able to salvage some
of their evening.

Understandable. They got you for dinner. Now I get
you for dessert.

She smiled as her fingers flew over the keyboard.
I’m just glad you’re still online. I was worried you might have
other plans.

My only plans involve you.

Her smile widened until her cheeks started to hurt.
Something about this man ignited a flame inside her that was
undeniable.
What did you do this evening after I signed off,
anything interesting?

I started that book you suggested, the one about the
antique clothing store owner who murdered young women in his
basement.

What did you think?

It’s very chilling. It also filled me with the
desire to ask you a very important question… What are you
wearing?

Clothing and fashion were central parts of the book,
most importantly a woman’s willingness to risk even her own safety
for stylishness. It was an insight into the superficial nature of
modern society. She could see how the book could lead his thoughts
to clothing. Only…her attire was nothing to brag about.

She looked down at herself with a frown. After
dinner, she’d changed into a ratty sweatshirt. She’d pulled her
hair into a ponytail and donned a pair of giant bunny slippers. Her
fingers hesitated over the keys before she began typing,
exaggerating her outfit to the best of her ability.
I’m wearing
a vintage top, and my hair is in an updo.
She gave the monitor
an uncertain grimace. That didn’t sound terrible.

So…an old sweatshirt and a messy ponytail? Sexy.

Laughter bubbled in her throat.
Busted
, she
confessed. She bit her lower lip with a delighted grin over the
fact that he’d called her on her embellishment. His brain had been
what first attracted her, and it always gave her a thrill when he
proved his intelligence.

I think we should meet.

Hayley sat back in her chair in stunned surprise at
the words that flashed up in front of her. The request was so
sudden and unexpected that she had no clue how to react. She’d been
so enamored by Ben these last few months. The thought of meeting
him in person sent a delicious chill down her spine.

Despite her excitement, she knew she should proceed
with caution. Women were always warned about meeting up with men
they met online. Still, she wasn’t totally opposed to the idea.
The thought of me in a baggy sweatshirt inspires a meeting?
She nervously blew out a breath as she awaited his response, hoping
it would be enough to convince her to go through with this. She
wanted to meet him. She wanted to hear his laughter and look into
his self-proclaimed blue eyes. She wanted to feel his kisses
instead of just imagine them.

No. The fact that all I can think about is getting
you out of that sweatshirt inspired me to want to meet you.

Her heart sped up at his words. Now all she would be
able to think about tonight would be him getting her out of this
sweatshirt and into his arms. Leaning forward with a sly grin, she
typed,
I could be a fatty.

His response came quick.
I could be a
geek.

I’ll take my chances.

So will I.

A shiver ran down her spine. This was going to
happen. She was finally going to meet him. Somehow she knew Ben
would not be a disappointment in the flesh.
Where should we
meet?

Masque.

Hayley’s eyebrows rose at that.
Masque
was a
nightclub about twenty minutes from her. It was costume themed. All
patrons inside wore masks to hide their identities. It was the
place young people went if they were looking to hook up with
strangers they never intended to get to know.
You don’t want me
to see your face?

I want to keep a sense of mystery about me. Didn’t
want you to get bored, and I thought it sounded kind of sexy.

Nothing about you is boring.
His comment sent
a rush of excitement through her. The thought of spending the
evening with Ben but never fully seeing his face, leaving mystery
to their odd relationship, was too good to pass up.
I’m in. I
want to meet you.

I’ll be the man at the back of the club under the
hourglass clock. Meet me at nine.

In her mind, Hayley pictured the clock. It was a
massive orb with an hourglass in its center. As the hour
progressed, the sand in the clock fell in time with the ticking
hands. When the hour ended, a mechanism in the clock would flip the
hourglass and the process would start again. It was a beautiful
clock and the perfect place for their first rendezvous. She
shivered. She was actually going to meet him after all these months
of yearning.
I can’t wait.

Neither can I.
After a moment’s pause, a
second message popped up.
Now tell me more about this
sweatshirt.

She laughed with a shake of her head.
How about
you tell me what you’re wearing? That only seems fair.

My boxers, a smile, and nothing else.

Anticipation swept through her. She could not wait to
meet this man.

Chapter Two

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Hayley ran her
hands nervously down the calf length dress she’d bought for her
meeting with Ben. The top was a tightly laced corset that flared
out into a sleek skirt. The outfit made her look and feel like a
princess.

She adjusted her mask, making certain it hid the
majority of her face. Her dark, reddish brown hair was piled on top
of her head and entwined with silver ribbons. It had cost her
eighty dollars and two hours at the salon, but it was worth it. She
felt gorgeous.

She quickly forgot about her own appearance at the
sight of Ben waiting for her under the hourglass clock. She knew it
was him right away. His entire being seemed to call out to her.
Barely able to breathe, she inched toward the clock as her eyes
hungrily drank in every inch of him.

He looked like Prince Charming come to life. Only Ben
looked much more dangerous than any fairytale prince. His feathery
blond hair framed a rugged face with a prominent jaw. She knew from
past conversations that he was six feet six inches and two hundred
and forty pounds. Even with the cape covering his arms, she could
tell he was nicely muscled.

As she tiptoed closer, she took in the brilliance of
his blue eyes. They stood out more due to the black background of
his mask. “Ben?” she inquired nervously.

A smile split across the man’s face. “Angel?”