Mine Until Morning (19 page)

She didn’t say a word.

Suddenly, despite his usual equanimity, her attitude pissed him off royally.

“You feel more comfortable with a stranger you’ve never met who just happens to work for a towing service.” He leaned in close. “Are you fucking crazy? A beautiful woman alone in the middle of the night, any goddamn thing could happen.” His stomach churned with some really bad images. 123

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He turned, paced a couple of steps, rubbed his hand over the top of his head. She didn’t trust him; he got that. Fine. But that she’d trust some stranger over him? Goddammit.

When he came back to her, she’d covered her mouth with her hand and stared at him. Then finally she lowered it. “My daughter hates me right now. I’m not sure why. Bringing a man home”—she shrugged—“I don’t want her to think she’s not my priority.” She covered her mouth again, and he thought he detected a giggle. “Not to mention that my mother was waiting up for me on Friday night and the ceiling caved in because the toilet upstairs was leaking and plaster was all over the place and now there’s just bare pipes and . . .” She leaned over, hands on her knees, and yeah, she was laughing. “Now this, the car. I mean really, you’ve gotta admit, it’s pretty funny.”

He went down on his haunches in front of her. “Cleo.”

She tipped her head to him. There were tears in her eyes, whether laughing or real, he wasn’t sure. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “for maligning your character.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I would also appreciate having you take me home.”

He wanted to touch her so badly, his fingers ached. He’d asked her out; she’d turned him down. He didn’t give up easily, but he also didn’t believe in harassing a woman to death. No meant no. If her car hadn’t broken down, he’d have let it end there.

But just maybe, Cleo needed him more than she thought.

CLEO HAD CALLED MA, LET HER KNOW SHE’D BE LATE. WALKER AND the service guy—who had looked like Tim Allen from Galaxy Quest, more dorky and harmless than maniacal and dangerous—had stood over the open hood of her car and talked manly mechanic stuff, tried to jump-start the car just in case, though they both agreed that probably wouldn’t work, then proclaimed the issue to most likely be the solenoid. Whatever the hell that was. They were extremely proud of themselves. She was allowed one free tow with her card and gave him Jimmy’s shop address.

Then Walker had bundled her into his luxury car and turned on the seat warmers.

“God, that’s amazing.” Close to nirvana. Walker provided all, even something 124

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to warm her frozen butt.

She’d gone overboard with the protectionist attitude even to the exclusion of common sense. Walker had been nothing but good to her, yet she’d been ready to hitch a ride with a stranger just so Walker wouldn’t know where she lived. She admitted it was stupid.

Yet in the close confines of his car, he smelled a little too good. He was a little too big. His body heat played havoc with her pulse. She turned in her seat. “Thanks.”

He smiled. Even his quirky smile made her heart beat faster. “Better than the tow truck?” he asked.

“Bet it doesn’t have seat warmers.” Should she apologize again for being a jerk?

He didn’t touch her, yet her skin was sensitized to him. She could feel every breath, into her lungs, out again. Her fingers tingled. “My hands are still cold, though.” Leaning over the console, she put the backs of her fingers to his cheek, more because she needed an excuse to touch him than anything else. Yeah, bad idea, but she’d always been full of bad ideas. Why grow up now?

He laid his fingers over the tops of hers. “Mine are a lot warmer.”

His skin was smooth from a fresh shave, his scent something light and woodsy.

“Let me warm them up for you.” He pulled her hand down between his legs, clasping his thighs around her fingers.

It was warm. It was sexy. She swayed with the car as he took another corner on the winding mountain road. “I suppose I could sit on my hands and warm them both at the same time.”

He grinned, glancing briefly in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, you could.” He slid her hand higher until her pinkie brushed the crotch of his jeans. “But this is way more fun.”

God, yes. One more time. She’d already told her mom she was going to be late. Just this once, when she already had the built-in excuse. One could even consider it payment for driving her home. Ah hell, they were excuses and justifications. She wanted him tonight, and she intended to have him. Turning her hand, she cupped his balls, squeezed lightly. “I know something even more fun.”

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7

“WOMAN, YOU’LL MAKE US HAVE AN ACCIDENT.” YET HE PRESSED her hand close, his cock hard.

“Hands on the wheel,” she murmured. “I’ll do the rest.” She rubbed him reverently.

Negotiating the road carefully, he let her bring him alive with a burning need.

“Do you want to jerk me off, make me come?”

She popped the button fly of his jeans. “I haven’t decided yet.” She looked up to meet his gaze and, despite the darkness of the road, her eyes danced. No shadows.

“You’re a tease.”

“Does this feel like a tease?” She ran a finger down his bare cock. He hadn’t worn briefs.

He shivered from the tip of his cock to his toes. “Yes, that’s a tease. It’ll be better if you take it out. Hold it.”

“Suck it?”

“Everything.” It was almost begging.

“We’ll see.” She laughed at him, but she pulled his cock from his jeans, wrapped her hand around him, all heat and soft skin. “There, now, is that better?”

“Yes,” he whispered. But not enough. Nowhere near enough. She stroked. His balls contracted, filled, ached. A drop of come seeped from his slit.

“Oh baby, look at that.” She smiled up at him, hypnotizing him until he forced his gaze back to the road.

She grazed his skin, slid over his crown, then put her moist fingertip to her lips and licked off the drop of pre-come. “Mmm.”

“Woman, you make me crazy. I know a place.”

“What place?” she whispered.

A place where he could lay her down, taste her, ease inside her. He’d taken other women there. He heard Isabel’s warning, but he ignored it. “A glade off the road.”

She slid her hand lightly up and down. “Oh, I like that. I can have my wicked 126

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way with this big, beautiful cock.” She squeezed him hard, and he felt like his head might explode with need.

The turnoff wasn’t far, barely more than a dirt track. He’d done a lot of scouting to find it. Women loved a little earthy nookie. He didn’t like the fact that she wasn’t the first, or even the tenth. But this was the closest place. He bumped onto the little lane, holding the wheel hard as she wrapped her hand tighter around his cock. “We’ll see who’s going to have whose wicked way.”

“Ooh, promises, promises,” she cooed.

He liked the playfulness. He wanted more of it. The car rolled to a stop, the headlights cutting through the night to reveal a small grassy glade surrounded by scrub and trees. He shut off the engine, the lights, plunged them into darkness, nothing more than a sliver of moonlight illuminating her face.

“I haven’t kissed you,” he said.

She bent to his cock and kissed the crown, sending a jolt of fire through him.

“Now I’ve kissed you.” She licked her lips. “You’re delicious.”

“I like when you make up your mind that you’re going to do something. And you do it with gusto.” He laid his hand along the back of her neck. “Kiss me the same way.”

His heart throbbed in his ears, he wanted it so bad. Trailing her thumb over his bottom lip, she leaned in, tracing the path with her tongue. She teased, he loved it, but he was done playing and trapped her face between his hands. “Fucking kiss me.”

She threw herself into it, winding her arms around his neck, invading his mouth with her tongue, taking him. It was the sweetest incursion he’d ever experienced.

“For tonight,” she whispered, peppering his mouth with brief kisses, “you are mine.” She caressed his scalp, licked his lips, rubbed her nose to his. “I’m going to do the naughtiest things to you.”

“Woman, you talk too much.” This time he took her mouth. She laughed, the joyous sound rippling through him. Christ, this was how he always wanted her to be. He buried himself against her, kissing deep, savoring the lush sweetness of her mouth, the crush of her breasts against his chest. Then she cheated and went for his cock.

“Wench.” She stole his breath.

“Your cock is mine,” she murmured, “and I want it.” She licked his mouth. 127

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“To taste it.” She punctuated with a slow pump of his erection designed to drive a man mad. “Suck it.” She forced her tongue between his lips. “Swallow it.”

“You really do talk too much.” He crushed her mouth beneath his in a long, deep kiss that left him wanting more. “I’ve got blankets in the trunk.”

“You’re such a Boy Scout, always prepared.”

“I’m always ready for the spur of the moment.” A momentary blip of conscience pricked him, but the blankets were from Friday night, the night he’d had with her, which made it a guilt-free zone. Though why he needed to think of it in terms of guilt, he couldn’t say, other than Isabel’s dire warning. That was his life yesterday. Today, he was on hiatus.

“We don’t need to go outside,” she cajoled. “We can do it right here.” She slipped her hand deeper, stroking his balls inside his jeans. He let his guilt fly out the window as a flush stole across his skin. Right now, he was giving in to pressure. By the morning light, she could very well change her mind and he’d never have another chance. Tonight, he would have everything.

“Yeah, we can do me easily enough in here, but I don’t want to fumble around with your pants.” He caressed her mouth with a quick kiss. “I want skin to skin, all over.”

“Brrrr,” she whispered, shooting him to madness with her touch. Sure, it was cold, but he had lots of ideas on how to keep her warm once he got her naked. With every touch, she gave him more ideas.

“Come on.” He pried her hand loose as she laughed, fastened a couple of buttons on his fly, then yanked the door open. She tumbled out beside him. Grabbing the blankets from the trunk, he edged her toward the dew-covered grass in the clearing. They spread the quilt together, flapping open the two blankets and letting them fall where they might. She went to her knees in the center and curled her index finger at him.

“Come here.”

He stood in front of her. She tugged on the button fly, popping it open. Then he was in her hands, and he let his head fall back to savor her touch and her warm breath across his bare flesh.

“You have the most beautiful cock, Walker.”

Walker laughed. “It’s dark—you can’t see.”

“Yes, I can,” Cleo whispered, brushing a finger over his crown. His cock 128

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jerked. “You’re thick and hard and meaty.” She drew a deep breath, hummed her pleasure. “And you smell good, like soap laced with salty come.”

“Kiss me.” Walker’s voice was nothing more than a rasp of sound across the night.

CLEO’S HEART BEAT TIME WITH THE PULSE OF A THICK VEIN RUNNING the length of his cock. She didn’t know what kind of kiss he wanted and didn’t care. There was only what she wanted. Dipping her head, she kissed his tip, tasting a drop of pre-come on her lips. She grazed him with her teeth, caressed with her tongue, then she needed it all. She plunged to his root. He touched the back of her throat before she got there. Thick and long. Walker groaned, played with her hair.

The cool night air didn’t bother her. Heat rose off him in waves. Only her fingers were cold, and she shoved them up under his sweater to the warmth of his skin.

He shivered. “Christ.”

She glided all the way back up to his crown, as his fingers raked through her hair. Then she clung to his waist and sucked him hard and fast.

“God, you’re so sweet. Fuck. Baby.” Words fell from his lips, praise, worship, endearments. “Jesus, I’ve dreamed about this. Hell. Every damn fucking night. Nobody, baby, never, not like this.”

She loved his scent of piney soap, his salty taste, the musk of his skin, and the sounds he made, even the light pleasure-pain of his fingers in her hair. She loved sex and banter and teasing and foreplay. All men loved a blow job, but Walker turned it into more. He made her the only woman in the world who could give him this feeling.