As the last tremor stilled, John forged a line of kisses up her abdomen, across her ribcage, in the valley of her breasts, up to her jaw. The savagery in how he took her mouth—without grace or gentleness—screamed his raging appetite. A void whimpered low in her body, an emptiness needing to be filled. Her trembling arms wound around his 160
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shoulders and pulled him closer, hands gripping at his slick back.
Need surpassed all civility. Livvy whispered into his mouth, “Now, Murphy, now.”
His humming growl tingled their still-joined lips as he reached for his wallet. She found the pulse under his jaw and traced it. His body went motionless, rigid. Even his breathing stopped.
Pulling her mouth from his skin, she looked at his face.
He stared at the open wallet in his hand beside her head. Denial blanked his features before they went stony.
“Goddamn it!”
John rolled away from her so abruptly, the air was sucked from her lungs. He jumped to stand beside the table and threw his wallet against the wall with a loud, frustrated howl. “Fucking moron!”
“What? What’s wrong?” Livvy sat, alarmed, hands covering her breasts.
He slumped against the table edge, gulping air.
“I don’t have a condom.”
He was cursed. It was as simple as that. He’d never get to make love to Livvy. Both hands fisted in his hair, John struggled to regain some semblance of control. The heavy taste of sugar mixed with her skin coated his tongue and he Inez Kelley
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shook with need. The temptation to sink inside her was too close, too enticing. Thirty seconds from scoring a goal and he discovered he didn’t bring any equipment.
Fucking moron.
Fantasies were not supposed to end with blue balls.
He’d meant to put a condom in his wallet. He distinctly remembered thinking about it. Now he was paying for it. He wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone before. The sound she’d made as she climaxed under his tongue was the most erotic sound he’d ever heard. It resounded through his body like a bass drum, thrusting his need to a primal level. That sound alone had nearly brought him to the end. Thank God she hadn’t uttered his name in those shuddering gasps or he’d have blasted off before she even touched him.
It might not have been his best or longest performance, but he’d come within an inch of taking her, driving into her and finally possessing her. Sucking in air, he heard Livvy shift behind him on the table. He closed his eyes and focused on wintry pictures of frosty barren landscapes, icebergs sinking the Titanic, glacial sheets sliding onto frozen lakes, anything frigid and reducing.
Livvy’s hand caressing his laboring chest snapped his eyes open. Her hair cascaded onto his shirt, which she’d left unbuttoned but pulled across her shoulders. She circled his neck with her 162
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arms. Just the weight of her leaning into him, pressing into his erection, hurt and he tightened his muscles.
Cursed. Definitely cursed
.
“Livvy—” He tried to say more but her kiss quieted him.
“You know, Murphy, for a creative man, you have no imagination.”
Her lips followed her hands, from his neck to his solar plexus to his stomach. A mixed tonic of shock and want swept through him as she sank lower. Cool air hit him one second before her warm hand circled his shaft. His slithered hiss didn’t stop her hands from cupping him, stroking over his hard length and easing his boxers down.
His mind slammed to a halt, and he lost the ability to form complete words. When her tongue flicked out and caressed his tip, the ability flooded back.
“Livvy.”
“Shh.”
John tensed from her too-light touch. This was foreplay, he needed completion. Now. This second. His body no longer ached, it screamed in sexual torment. Every cell cried out for it and yet she teased him with slowness. Her lips traced over him, barely touching him. Fingers wrapped around his cock, Livvy smiled up at him. That smile, wide and alluring, froze his heartbeat. Then she took him inside that smile.
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He wanted to beg her to finish him quickly.
Her persecution was far too sweet. Too gentle and too teasing and damned near too perfect to stand.
Each brush of her tongue sent charges of fire up his spine, making his teeth clench. One slim hand stroked upward as her lips slid down.
Livvy seemed hell-bent on drawing out his delicious suffering until he begged for mercy.
John gripped his unbound belt with a crushing strength. He was caught, held on the peak, and she would not let him fall. The curse he uttered was twofold. One, for the pure sensation of her scorchingly sweet mouth on him, the second as he realized she meant to slowly torture him.
What a wonderful way to die.
Resigned to her power, he allowed the
intensely erotic rhythm to enthrall him. Each long glide of her mouth brought him closer, tightened his muscles and intensified his need. For one brief second, she released him, shook her hair away from her eyes and caught his gaze. The seductive command on her face stunned him.
In the thin blue light, the dust shimmered on her incandescent skin. Her cheeks and nose sparkled, her eyes shimmered with fire, and her lips were lush with color. His white shirt around her shoulders mimicked angel wings folded at rest.
A strange awareness seeped into his chest and, for 164
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just a split second, he could have sworn she offered him salvation through sexual healing.
Eyes locked with his, she lowered her lips once more to his tip. Her lids fell and she took him deeper than before. John moaned as she sank to the base of his shaft before rising to sink again.
And again. And again. He wanted to grab her head and drive into her mouth, to rush over that edge, make her ease his torment.
No, not to Livvy, not like she’s some barroom
tramp.
He wrapped the loose leather around his fist.
The buckle of his belt bit into the other palm, the pain keeping him centered. Livvy destroyed that center with an easy grace. She moved one slender hand to his, unbound his fingers and brought them to the crown of her head. Her thumbs traced the ridge of his hip before she pulled at him, forcing him deeper, urging him to move. Such a minor gesture, it screamed of her trust.
Her trust was his undoing. Control obliterated, lust took over. A cry tore from his throat and he thrust into her tempting mouth. It was hot and rough and he held nothing back. Livvy never shied away.
John did not fall from the peak she’d held him on. He plummeted. Every muscle in his body quivered and red stars exploded behind his pinched eyelids. He thought he said her name. It Inez Kelley
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was the only thing his mind was capable of processing. Rapid, furious, blistering waves shot through him until his knees shook with expended exhaustion.
Unable to support himself, John propped his lower back against the table. His knees locked to prevent crashing to the floor. Sanity slowly returned and his vision cleared. Livvy filled his sight. Livvy, his angel. Her arms circled his neck and he forced his trembling arms around her waist.
Laying her head on his shoulder, she leaned into him while his breathing slowed. The tranquility of the room cocooned them. Her finger carved her name above his heart in gentle swoops. Her touch was too pure to absorb. He buried his face in her hair and cradled her tight. What had she done to him?
Her laugh rang out and she reached down. John let his hand trail down her back and glide over her bare ass. His shirt gapped, exposing the creamy swells of her breasts. Just-sated desire flourished in his sluggish veins. The night was not over yet.
The empty plastic cupcake carton in her hands, Livvy stood with a mischievous expression. “Two For Play. Regular price five ninety-nine plus tax, demonstration not included.”
His chuckle joined her laugh and she leaned her face to his. He expected a kiss. Instead, she rubbed his nose with hers, a totally playful, 166
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childlike move that stunned him with its
simplicity. It warmed his heart.
And chilled his blood.
Chapter Seven
The taste of impending rain fell on John’s lips and he inhaled the dampness. Outside the Sugar Shack’s back entrance, he leaned on the painted block wall and breathed deep. The lingering bakery smells of yeast and pastry were comforting and heightened by the weather. In the distance thunder rumbled softly, and the breeze carried the faintest whisper of electricity.
“Storm’s brewing fast,” he murmured.
Livvy stepped out the door, keys in hand. Her eyes shot to the darkened sky, devoid of starlight, and she sighed. “Please tell me you finished fixing my roof today despite the hangover. I really don’t want to get home and find Lake Livvy’s Living Room.”
The exhaustion in her voice furrowed his
brows. She’d gotten very little sleep last night because of his drunken escapade. Smudged
shadows under her eyes changed them to the shade of pansies. Suddenly he wanted to get her into bed but not for sex. He took her hand.
“I promised, didn’t I? Your roof’s fine. Come on, I’ll drive home. We’ll get your car tomorrow.”
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The drive from the Shack to Elmcrest Drive took thirty-five minutes. John was sure Livvy slept for thirty-three of those. Head resting on her arm pressed to the window, she dropped off as soon as the giant motor began its rhythm. Her hair swayed with the motion of the truck, catching the passing light of cars and streetlamps. Awake, she was a vivacious bundle of barely contained energy.
In sleep, Livvy took his breath away. He almost hated pulling into the driveway so he circled the block three times.
The motor died and she blinked awake.
“Sorry.”
His mouth opened but nothing came out. A
wave of something crashed on him. Something he grudgingly recognized as protectiveness. He wanted to scoop her up, tuck her into bed and sit for hours doing nothing but staring at her slumbering face. Swallowing emotions too raw to examine, he exited the truck and met her on her side as she stepped down. Her house stood dark, no cars around and silent. He led her around his yard and up the stairs.
The inside light flared harshly to life as the first fat drops of rain fell. He pushed Livvy toward the hall, telling her to shower and crawl into bed. The soft kiss she brushed across his mouth lingered long after he heard the water. Hands braced on the bar, he fought the churning in his gut. Something Inez Kelley
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was different. Livvy was different. He was different with her.
The rain hit the roof with a steady
patpatpat
that addled his senses. The room seemed too closed in despite the openness of the floor plan.
He couldn’t breathe. Whipping around, he
stomped back outside.
Water drops pelted him, plastering his shirt to his skin within seconds. The air had the electric sizzle of impending lightning and the scent of tilled earth. John let the wind and rain sluice over his face, whisk his hair from his brow and drip down his neck. Cool and cleansing, it did little to ease his racing heart.
Livvy did something to him, something that tempted him, not only with sex but with hope.
Longtime experience had taught him
hope
was a dangerous thing, a cruel and vicious demon that would much rather kick him in the balls than lift him up. It did just enough good that he forgot the pain of the kick for a while then laughed like a crack addict when he most needed a smile. He was starting to need Livvy.
Sardonic emptiness clutched at his gut. He was not what Livvy needed. She deserved someone better, less tainted. The one thing John knew was his own bleak soul. He’d long ago accepted his path, even had fun with the journey. There wasn’t a commandment he hadn’t broken, many more 170
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than once, and a few daily. He had no reservation about lying when the need suited him. Selfish and self-absorbed, he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. He’d give his life for Gina, had taken a life for her, but even she had grown up, moved on, made her own family. His destiny was
predetermined. He’d always thought he could handle it.
An angel with deep copper hair tempted him to believe he could have more. He’d told her one dark secret and she’d kissed him. Instead of fear, she showed him tenderness. The trust and grace she offered humbled him. Like water to a thirsting man, she created a longing deep inside him, a longing he’d never known. John wanted to belong to one person and one person alone. He wanted it with a voracious need that threatened to consume him. But what price would Livvy pay if he offered his blackened soul?
By the time the rain increased to a deluge, he had no answers. John drew a deep breath and wandered down the hall, soaked to the skin. Livvy had confiscated one of his tee shirts and was curled on her side of his bed, sound asleep.
Her side. His bed, her side. The fact the phrase jumped so easily to his mind jacked his emotions up even higher and he swallowed a dry knot, the only thing that wasn’t dripping wet puddles.
Damp dark red tendrils streamed onto the pillow, Inez Kelley
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and his fingers itched to bury themselves in them.
On her cheek, now clear of any makeup, a dime-sized bruise drew his gaze. Crewcut’s badge might have made the bruise but it was his fault.
He’d marked her again, this time not so pleasantly.
He stalked into the bathroom and snapped the water on as hot as he could stand it. The room filled with steam as he peeled wet clothing from his body. His skin was sticky with the traces of frosting and lovemaking, tiny glitter crystals shining in his chest hair. He almost hated to wash the physical memory away.
The water pounded his tense neck and he
braced his hands on the tiled wall. He’d blown it tonight. A stupid mistake cost him the longed-for chance to finally sink into her soft body. But he couldn’t muster regret. She’d given him not only his fantasy but something he hadn’t known he’d wanted—her faith. It touched him on a level he’d thought long denied him.