AMatterofLust (2 page)

He was also the very thing she needed to get her ex off her
mind and out of her system. What a douchenozzle he had been. It was a shame
that it had taken finding him in the stockroom with that tarty little bartender
she’d mistakenly hired for her to realize it. Not that it was surprising
really. She had a knack for picking the winners.

The ex was gone and best forgotten, but she’d been so lonely
in the months since she’d tossed him out, she was almost tempted to believe
that she could have loved him. And that was a real problem, a thought that she
most definitely did not want creeping around in her head. Thoughts like that
might lead to very bad things—things like taking him back—and that would never
do. No, the gods or the universe or whatever had supplied her with just the
distraction she needed to get on with her life and she was not about to pass up
this opportunity.

“Come here,” her Darkman said, drawing her attention back to
the here and now. Trask, she reminded herself, though if her instincts were
right about him, it was a name she was unlikely to ever forget. She met his
eyes across the room and smiled. She was going to eat him alive.

She took his outstretched hand and he pulled her to him. His
arms came around her, enveloping her in his strength and warmth. Rena sighed
against his broad chest, closing her eyes as she breathed in the spicy
fragrance of him.

He maneuvered her around, positioning her back against the
bookshelves that lined the west wall of her office. She shifted in his arms,
getting more comfortable, molding her body to his. His erection was hard and
hot against her hip and a wave of excitement sent delightful tingles straight
to her core.

He took a fistful of her hair and gave a gentle tug, baring
her neck. The tip of his tongue touched her skin and the sizzling contact made
Rena moan. “You are delectable,” he murmured, and then licked the entire length
of her throat.

The feel of his lips set her hormones on fire. Her hands
moved over him, exploring the contours of the muscles in his arms, his back. He
licked and sucked his way to her lips, taking her mouth in a fervent kiss. She
melted into him, eagerly accepting his tongue as it curled around hers. He
cupped her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, and she bit down on his lower
lip as ferocious lust for him surged within her. His palm moved over her aching
nipple, teasing it. He turned her on like no man had ever before and she kissed
him with abandon, drowning in her own incredible arousal. He rolled her nipple
between his fingers and her nails dug into his back as shockwaves of heat
pulsed through her.

He pressed more fully against her and Rena knew she had to
do something before she completely lost the ability to think coherently. She had
a slew of condoms in her office, free giveaways from non-profit organizations
and advertisers. She plucked one off the shelf and handed it to him. He took
the package and bowed his head to her, silently agreeing to use it.

His mouth met hers once more and as he kissed her, his thumb
stroked her throat, sending delightful shivers right to her pussy. She explored
the broad expanse of his back, her hands moving down his body. She slid her
hands under the waistband of his jeans and found smooth, naked flesh. Rena
smiled to herself. There was something very sexy about a man going commando.
She moved her hands around his narrow waist and ran her thumb over his hipbone,
her body aching for a taste of what lay below.

He slipped his hand under her dress, his fingers gliding
over her thigh and a tremor of anticipation rolled down her spine. Just for
fun, to be playful and prolong the tease, she pressed her thighs tightly
together, refusing to allow him access. She could feel his laugher deep in his
chest, vibrating through her, and she smiled.

He stroked her thigh, caressing her from knee to hip, but
never once attempting to get in between, a gentle tease that went on and on.
She knew that he could have easily forced her legs apart, and she almost wanted
him to, but he didn’t. He seemed content to play, his hand gliding over her
skin as his mouth explored her sensitive throat.

“You want to me touch you.” His lips brushed her ear as he
spoke, his warm breath tickling her skin. His hand slid over her thigh, moving
closer to her heat. “Here.” He pressed his finger against her panty-covered
mound and her legs relaxed, giving him a slight opening. He pushed his hand
between her thighs and ran his fingertips over the length of her entrance. She
was dripping wet for him and she knew he could feel it though the thin material
of her underwear.

She parted her legs for him, but he moved his hand away,
slowly moving it up the length of her body. She pressed her lips into a tight
line and tried to stifle a moan of utter desperation as she arched toward his
retreating hand, wanting it back very bad.

With a smug little laugh, he reached behind her and unzipped
her dress. It fell to the ground between them and she kicked it aside. He
cupped her face in his hand and looked deep into her eyes. She saw wild passion
in those dark depths, a need so pure and untamed it took her breath away. He
slowly dragged his thumb over her bottom lip and Rena flicked out her tongue,
taking a tiny taste of his skin. When he smiled, she took his thumb fully into
her mouth and he slowly pumped it in and out, his eyes glazing as he watched
her.

“You do that very well,” he said, caressing her tongue with
the pad of his thumb.

She smiled then gave it a light nip. “I do a lot of things
well.”

“Oh?” he asked, raising a single, dark eyebrow. “Like what?”

“All kinds of things,” she said, scraping her fingernails
down over his tight, black shirt, his stomach, and then resting her hands on
either side of the bulge in his jeans.

He took one of her hands and placed it over his cock. “Show
me.”

She fondled him through his pants and smiled as his Adam’s
apple bounced in his throat. She brushed her lips over his as she slowly
unzipped his jeans, pushing them down and then taking him in her hand. He
moaned against her lips as she pumped him, her thumb making circles over his
engorged head. He had a huge cock, bigger than any she ever had the pleasure of
experiencing, and her panties got a lot wetter at the thought of being filled
by him. She gave him another long stroke and then released him to work on
getting him fully naked, removing his shirt, pants, shoes. She knelt before him
and looked up at the hard line of his cock, his chiseled abs, broad chest,
solid pecs, strong jaw. Half of his face was concealed in shadow and he seemed
almost dangerous, ominous even, a dark, sexual force. A tiny wave of fear laced
with the arousal pumping through her veins and a heated shiver ran down her
back. Tonight was going to be something special.

Holding his gaze, she ran her tongue over the head of his
cock and smiled when she heard his sharp intake of breath. His hands plunged
into her hair and she allowed him to pull her forward, taking him into her
mouth. He tasted like musk and man and she lapped and relished every inch of
him. His hips rocked, gently encouraging her and she happily obliged, taking
him deeper, sucking him harder. When the movement of his hips became more
demanding, she was ready for him. His grip tightened in her hair and she licked
and sucked him until he was completely finished. With a low moan, he braced
himself against the bookshelves behind her, slumping over her in weary
satisfaction.

He only took a moment to recover and then reached down to
bring her to her feet. He pressed her back against the bookshelves and kissed her
deeply, thoroughly, making her toes curl. He caressed her face, her throat and
then cupped her breast. When he pinched her nipple through the material of her
bra, her hips twitched as jolts of desire shot straight to her pussy. He
cradled her head in his hand and his tongue probed deep into her mouth, the
slow, rhythmic thrusts a promise of things to come.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his
waist and his hands immediately gripped her ass. He was already hard again and
she moved against him, her panties a tormenting barrier between them.

He removed her legs from around his waist and then went to
his knees before her. “My turn,” he said, and eased her panties down.

He pressed a kiss right below her navel and then dragged his
tongue down, over her belly. He gripped her thighs and spread them wider apart.
Her legs quivered when he kissed the top of her entrance. He lifted one of her
thighs onto his shoulder and spread her open with his fingers. The tip of his
tongue traced her outer folds and Rena’s head fell back against the
bookshelves, a throaty moan escaping her lips.

His tongue was magic and he took his time, thoroughly
exploring every dip and contour. Her eyelids fluttered when his tongue delved
inside her and stars exploded behind her eyes when his thumb pressed against
her clit. She hooked her calf across his back, using his body for leverage,
demanding that he take more, make her soar higher. She ground against him and
he responded, his finger working harder on her clit, his tongue plunging deeper
inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut as the orgasm took her, her hips bucking
against his eager, clever mouth. The orgasm arrived in a crashing wave and Rena
moaned as it washed over her.

In the next instant, he was on his feet. She heard the
condom package rip open and she didn’t even have time to catch her breath
before he spun her around and thrust into her from behind. He filled her
completely and she felt every hot, hard inch of him deep inside her. Her
fingers dug into the bookshelves when he slowly withdrew and plunged back into
her, the feel of him sliding in and out almost more pleasure than she could
bear. She arched her back, trying to take him deeper, needing to take him
deeper. He shifted behind her, pulling her tightly against him, one arm around
her waist, his index finger pressed hard against her clit. His other arm wound
around her middle, his forearm between her breasts, his hand on her collarbone.
His thighs pressed against hers, holding her in place, his hot, puffing breath
on her throat, the scrape of his stubble sending rippling shivers down her
spine. He moaned out a word in something between a whisper and growl, and bit
down on the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

It didn’t take long for fireworks to detonate in her mind,
her pussy clenching around him. He held still, letting her ride out her orgasm
on his cock. She trembled from the force of her impending release and a
tingling ripple washed over her, heightening and intensifying her orgasm. It
was a strange, highly erotic and draining sensation and it bombarded her, made
her head spin. Her body shook and she cried out his name in one long, loud moan
as the bizarre, mind-blowing orgasm washed her away, the world growing hazy and
indistinct all around her.

She felt him shudder, and then he thrust into her hard, his
arms tightening around her, stealing her breath. Still in a daze from the
strength of her strange orgasm, she turned and curled her arms around his
strong shoulders, sighing contently as she rested her head against his chest.
It felt so sinfully good in his arms. They stood together, holding one another
and long minutes passed as they both caught their breath.

Soon, his lips found hers again and his hands moved over
her, caressing and stroking her. “More,” he breathed, his mouth hot on her
throat, his hands squeezing her ass. He wrapped her legs around his waist and
settled her back against the bookshelves. “I must have more.”

Rena gasped as he reached for another condom and then
entered her again, a smile growing on her face as she caught his rhythm. This
night just got better and better.

Chapter Two

Rena rolled over in bed, slowly coming awake. She gave
herself five more indulgent minutes under the warm covers and then sat up,
reaching her arms out over her head in a long, languid stretch. She was
relaxed, content, completely satisfied. She was also utterly exhausted. Her
body yearned to snuggle under the covers and drift back to sleep, but one
glance at her bedroom window convinced her that it was probably not a good
idea. Judging from the darkness outside, she’d slept the entire day away.
Literally. Running Lucid demanded that she live a night-orientated lifestyle,
but this was pushing it even for her. She’d missed the sunset.

She stretched again, her body beginning to register just how
sore it was from her late-night exertions. She flexed her inner muscles and the
memory of Trask filling her rushed back in a wave of heat and wetness. She
didn’t think she’d ever been fucked so hard or so well in her entire life. Her
nipples hardened as she lightly fingered her clit, allowing herself the
decadent pleasure of reliving some of the better scenes from last night. Her
pussy responded, wet and ready, and Rena figured she’d be willing to miss a
hundred sunsets if it meant having another marathon night of sweaty goodness
like that. It was a shame she was never going to see him again.

A jaw-cracking yawn overtook her and Rena knew it was time
to get out of bed before she could change her mind. She threw back the covers
and stood up, but when her feet hit the floor, she swayed, exhaustion making
her swoon. She clutched her head, cursing under her breath. Last night was
probably the most strenuous workout she’d had in a long time, but this was
ridiculous. She wasn’t that out of shape.

She closed her eyes in an effort to squeeze out some of the
fatigue and the memory of the rippling, sucking sensation from last night ran
over her again in a wave of sensual warmth. It was such a strange sensation,
like nothing she had ever experienced before, and the draining, drowning
pleasure had brought her to heights she never dreamed existed. Coming like that
night after night could become very addictive.

“Doesn’t matter,” she muttered, shaking away the memory. She
needed to focus on the practical, on the present, not on things that would
never be. She took a deep breath, walked out of the bedroom and headed for the
kitchen. Now that she was awake, her first order of business was coffee.
Massive amounts of coffee.

The rich smell of French Roast filled the kitchen and while
it brewed, she thought about taking a stroll up to Lucid. Sunday nights were
never busy and it was usually her night off, but she felt as though she had to
do something. Anything. One part of her wanted any excuse to crawl back into
bed, relive last night, masturbate and then go back to sleep, but as tempting
as it was, the thought of sleeping away twenty-four solid hours was just
obscene. She needed to fight the lethargy, do something productive.

And maybe, just maybe, he might be there.

Rena frowned. She needed to stop that train of thought. She
did not want to go down the path of “what if?” with this one. She’d been around
long enough to know last night for exactly what it was. Deluding herself into
believing otherwise was just asking for heartbreak. She knew to never take
one-night stands seriously. It was a lesson she had learned the hard way and
one she didn’t intended to forget. One-night stands were meant to be fun and
carefree. And one night only. Falling into the whole “but maybe this time it
will be different” trap was only going to make her insane.

Rena settled into her kitchen nook and sipped her hot,
strong coffee. One thing was for sure, though—if there was ever such a thing as
“chemistry” she and Trask had it. She’d known the minute she’d laid eyes on him
that sex with him would be a phenomenal experience and she had not been
disappointed. Everything about last night had been intuitive and natural and
fun. They had shared a kind of free-flowing insight that in her experience only
happened after months of exploring and experimenting.

And would never happen again, she told herself with as much
firmness as she could muster. Which wasn’t much. She really wanted to see him
again. Just one more time. Just one more night. Just one more chance to breathe
in the scent of his skin, to feel his heat, to be in his arms.

She put her coffee aside and stood up. This was pointless.
Maybe a shower would help.

She went upstairs and stripped down, but a flash of
something in the full-length mirror on the other side of her bedroom caught her
eye, making her pause. She approached the mirror and twisted around, frowning
at the discolored mark she discovered on the back of her shoulder. A mark very
obviously left by Trask’s teeth. She wanted to be pissed off that he’d marked
her like some kind of horny teenager, but in an odd, unsettling way, it pleased
her. She brushed her fingers over it and tingles raced along her nerve endings.
She clearly remembered him biting her as he fucked her. His cock had been deep
and hard, filling her completely. She could almost feel him again and heat
fired in her belly, her pussy aching to be filled.

They’d spent hours up in her office, fucking, licking,
sucking, playing and when they had finally stumbled back downstairs the weak
rays of sunlight were beginning to lighten the sky. Their footsteps were loud
as they crossed the silent, empty club. They parted at the entrance with a
kiss, which was nice, but no numbers were exchanged, no plans were made to see
one another again. She closed her eyes, reliving that moment, that slow,
searching, penetrating kiss that was everything him. It had been so wonderful,
so full of promise, but then he was gone, slipping out the door and melting
into the remaining shadows of the night.

Rena shook her head at herself in the mirror. Sure the sex
was good, but all this angst and pining was not like her. She’d never gone this
wild over a one-night stand even when she’d been young and stupid. It had to be
more a symptom of her loneliness rather than any real desire for the man
himself. He was a stranger after all.

She smiled. An utterly sexy stranger. Everything about Trask
screamed bad boy. He was the kind of man who lived life hard and fast and would
be willing to take a risk, go crazy, let out a primal scream. Her Darkman
wouldn’t shy away from much and she had a feeling he would be willing to take
on any challenge she offered without hesitation.

Bad boys could be so much fun, but the problem with bad boys
was that they were actually bad. They broke girls’ hearts. And Trask was
probably the baddest of them all. There was something dark about him, almost
menacing. Dangerous. Not that she had felt unsafe with him—quite the opposite,
in fact—it was more a feeling that he could take her on a trip down the more
lurid corridors of her mind, show her things that could only happen in the
deepest, darkest hours of the night and then leave her wanting more.

She sifted her weight with a heavy sigh. Even if he was at
the club, even if he did decide to see her again, she wasn’t stupid enough to
believe anything could come of it. People who fuck upon meeting were not
destined for lasting, meaningful relationships. It just did not happen.

“Does. Not. Matter.” She enunciated each word carefully,
looking herself dead in the eye, trying to finally drive the point home. She
hoped this time it would work.

She pushed the thoughts away and gave herself a critical
once over in the mirror. She twisted around, trying to see every angle and
after some intense scrutiny, decided that things could probably be much worse.
She knew she could use a trip or five to the gym, but Trask hadn’t seemed to
mind. Not at all. She smiled to herself and cupped her left breast, remembering
his touch.

He had made her feel so beautiful. Desired. Sexy.
Comfortable in a way she had never been with another man. There was none of the
usual underlying worries, the nagging paranoia and pestering annoyances that
always came with even the best sex
. Would he like something else better? Can
he see my cellulite in this light? Was he ever going to come?
With Trask,
none of that had mattered. There had only been him and her, touching and
panting, bodies damp with a light sheen of sweat, their soft moans mingling in
the night.

“All right, enough,” she said, turning away from the mirror.
It was time to take a shower.

Tonight was going to be a good night to go to work. There
wasn’t a whole lot to do on Sundays, but maybe she could reorganize the liquor
closet. Or perhaps do the staff schedule for the next couple of months. Maybe
she could even jump behind the bar and do some bartending. It had been long
time since she’d last done that. It might be fun.

Rena concentrated very hard on all the possibilities of the
night ahead of her as she headed for the bathroom. There was going to be so
much to do at the club, she wasn’t going to have a moment to think.

* * * * *

He should have been full. Sated. Last night’s escapade
should have been enough to keep him satisfied for weeks. He should not be thinking
of the woman with the crazy red hair and the tightest, sweetest pussy he’d ever
had the pleasure of sinking into. The taste of her should not still be fresh in
his mind and his mouth should absolutely not be watering at the thought of
having her again. It was wrong. It was stupid. It was a waste of his time.

The bartender gave Trask a winning,
captain-of-the-football-team grin and shook his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t
seen her.”

Trask sighed and looked around the club. Lucid was more
subdued tonight, the deep, jazzy blues music in the background creating a
sensual, laid-back vibe. It was a night for murmured conversations, lounging on
the couches that lined the dance floor, sipping red wine. A night for languid
sex, the kind that went slow and deep and long.

He probed the club once more, hoping this time he would find
her, but he knew Rena wasn’t there. He could sense her absence, feel the empty
void where there should have been a font of electrifying life. He turned his
attention back to the bartender. She wasn’t there now, but that didn’t mean she
wouldn’t be there at all. “When will she be in?”

“Hard to say,” the bartender said with a shrug. “She doesn’t
usually come in on Sundays, but with Rena you never know. She loves this place
and I think she comes in sometimes just to be here.”

Something in the man’s tone, in the gleam in his eye, made
Trask wonder if he had some kind of relationship with her other than
professional. A feeling he had no name for swept over him, filling him with
something close to rage. Had she slept with this man? Did she care for him?
Rena was his. He would not share her.

“’Course,” the bartender went on, oblivious to Trask’s
violent surge of emotion, “if she had a life maybe that would be a different
story.” The bartender eyed him closely and Trask could feel the weight of the
man’s regard. “You were here last night.”

“I was.” He wondered what the man was getting at.

Some of the bartender’s cheerfulness faded away and he
became serious. “Be good to her. She’s a special lady.”

Trask read the man’s aura, trying to unravel the tangle of
thoughts and feelings he found there. Affection, anger, warmth, loyalty, it was
so much and he could only marvel again at the wild complexity of human nature.
“You are…” His voice trailed off as he searched for the word. “Protective of
her.”

The bartender inclined his head slightly in agreement and
smiled. “She’s my friend.”

Trask could see that the word meant a lot to him and he
respected the man’s devotion to Rena. “I will do my best.”

The bartender seemed satisfied and he nodded to Trask before
walking away to serve other customers.

Trask leaned back in his seat, clutching a beer he only had
the vaguest memory of ordering. Where could Rena be? He had to see her again.
He needed to taste her one more time. The memory of her lust, like vibrant
honey in his veins, washed over him. She was so perfect. Alive. Free.
Uninhibited. And she had tasted so very, very good. She had somehow managed to
calm some of the constant, insatiable craving within him and he wanted more. He
could almost feel her in his arms again, her naked flesh pressed against him,
the sultry chorus of her moans as he thrust into her. He wanted a whole lot
more of that.

“Hi,” an overly seductive female voice said close to his ear
and his gaze slid toward the sound. A generically pretty, petite woman stood
beside him, an overly bright, wolfish smile plastered on her face. “You look
like you could use some company,” she said, and slid onto the empty chair
beside him.

Her hungry gaze raked over him and Trask’s eyebrow rose in
amusement. This woman thought she was a hunter. Out of curiosity, he dipped
into her and was unsurprised to find a shallow well at her core. It wouldn’t
take much for him to bend her, twist her, convince her to do things she’d blush
about for the rest of her life and never willingly admit out loud. He could
take her lust to places that would forever haunt her dreams. Show her the real
power of a hunter. And what it meant to be prey.

He turned away from her, disgusted with himself and annoyed
by the chafing vibrations of her lust. She was nothing like Rena. His Rena was
no moppet to be used and then tossed aside. Her personality and strength of
will made that impossible. He didn’t think she’d acquiesce to anything he suggested
unless she wanted to. Maybe that was what set her apart, made her stand out in
his mind. Unlike the many before her, Rena had not been subjugated by the force
of him. Such strength was rare in a human.

The only time he had experienced anything even remotely
similar had been centuries ago, when he’d met a mortal whose appetite he
thought matched his own. That woman had been insatiable, a true libertine, and
he had taken her again and again at her bidding. He had been young then and
hadn’t known how frail humans were. After a month of his attentions, she’d
become drawn and pale. A month after that, she was dead. The doctors attributed
her death to consumption. He supposed in a way it was.