Falling for the Enemy (Private Pleasures 3)

He stared at her, and then slowly smiled. “You know your options, sweet Virginia.”

Correction. He expected her to beg for it…or…slap his face? Okay, there was a very real possibility she’d fall, but she crunched her abs, reached up and grabbed a handful of his T-shirt and cracked her palm across his cheek. His head whipped to the side and he growled, “Jesus…”

An apology sprang to her lips, but the brutality of the need he’d generated had her biting it back and going on the defensive. “You told me to—”

“I did.” He raised his head and looked at her. “I want your hands on me. I want the honesty of your touch—gently, urgently, harshly, if that’s what you’re feeling—but if you do that again, I’m going to come where I stand.”

Then he groaned and let his head fall back, and all she could do was cling to the edge of the sink while he gave her exactly what she asked for. Thrusting, withdrawing, and thrusting again in thrilling succession, using the angle of their bodies to ensure he hit all the right spots along the way. The room spun behind her closed eyelids. A heady mix of pheromones, body heat and sex stormed her senses. With frightening speed, he had her trembling at the brink again, panting and shivering and striving for relief from the pressure building inside her. Her pulse pounded, setting off a surprisingly loud echo in her ears.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Shaun called out, “It’s occupied.”

Holy crap, the pounding in her ears wasn’t her pulse. Somebody was knocking on the restroom door. A voice from the other side said, “Hurry up in there buddy. I gotta get back on the road.”

Shaun didn’t bother with a reply, but drove into her with renewed energy, dragging her agonizingly closer to the edge of control. Her body clenched around him in a fruitless effort to cling to the moment—to a semblance of sanity—but he thrust again and sent sanity hurtling out of reach. The pressure tightened, pulsed there for one heartbeat…two…she whimpered in the face of what waited for her, and a big, calloused hand gently covered her mouth to suppress the noise.

He withdrew and rocked forward again, then froze. His eyes drifted closed, and a groan rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest.

The pounding on the door came again. “What the hell, man?”

“I’m…not…done yet,” he growled, and unleashed a series of quick, jerky thrusts. The sink rattled on its pedestal. Between her legs, the clenching became spasms. Shaun cursed, and then groaned again, a low, long sound vibrating with relief. Hard as she tried to hold it back, her own jagged moan escaped, merging with his, outlasting it, until the high-pitched cry reverberated in the tiny room and slowly subsided.

The voice came again from the other side of the door. “Forget it. I don’t know whether you ought to burn a candle when you’re done, or set fire to the place, but I know I’m not going in. See a doctor, or something.”

Brown eyes opened and stared into hers, and she detected a gleam of humor in their depths. She returned his stare while footsteps retreated across pavement. After a moment, a vehicle door slammed and a big engine rumbled to life. Picturing some disgusted trucker opting for a nice, private outcropping of limestone along the Double A over what he imagined awaited him at the Gas ’n Go had her laughing on her inhale. The result was an inelegant snort.

He grinned down at her. “Admit it, I provide a refreshing break from rose petals and satin sheets.”

Now she burst out laughing. A full-on, from-the-stomach laugh she couldn’t have held back if her life depended on it, because damn, they’d just done it in a gas station restroom like a couple of horny teenagers. It took her a moment to stop laughing, but when she did, she smiled up at him and said, “Sugar, I’m not, and never have been, the rose petals and satin sheet type.”

His expression sobered. “You are.” He slipped his hand between their still-joined bodies and cupped her, massaging her gently as he slowly withdrew. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. “You were born for candlelight dinners and dancing barefoot under the stars.” He slid out of her and she could have moaned from the loss, but his fingers were there, easing the emptiness, replacing it with warmth, while his thumb brushed the over-stimulated knot of nerves clamoring for yet more attention. “You deserve all those things, and I wish I was the man who could give them to you, but we both know I’m not. All I can give you is this—”

And he gave. And she took, knowing full well this was his way of asking if it could be enough, for as long as it lasted. Every bit of common sense in her head warned against getting into something so risky. This has absolutely, positively got to be the last time.

But as warmth turned to heat and the heat rolled through her, her heart sighed, maybe.

…

“Why are you so fidgety?”

LouAnn Doubletree’s question pulled Ginny’s head out of the clouds. “I’m not,” she said to her booth-mate, and then, dang it, fidgeted.

“Oh, no. You’re not fidgety, and my nickname’s not Double D.” LouAnn squeezed her arms together, plumping the nickname-inspiring double D’s to eye-popping proportions above the scoop neck of her purple pullover. Across the diner, a busboy dropped a tray loaded with dishes. Ginny gave LouAnn a hope you’re happy look—which the statuesque ash-blonde plainly was—and then focused on the two women in the booth opposite her.

Ellie nodded her agreement, and pushed her breakfast plate to the side. “It’s true. You haven’t been still since we sat down. Hanging your campaign posters around town this morning energized me too, but you’re so antsy I’m about to write you a prescription for lisdexamfetamine. What’s wrong?”

The weight of her friends’ scrutiny made her want to shift in her seat, but she realized what she was doing and stopped. “Nothing. It’s just…” Her fingers gravitated to a small tear in her napkin and proceeded to pull off a narrow strip of the flimsy paper.

Melody reached across the table and stilled her hand. “Oh my God. Stop shredding your napkin and talk.”

“All right. Fine.” She looked over her shoulder an

d scanned the half-empty diner. The Saturday brunch crowd hadn’t hit DeShay’s yet. Nobody was close enough to overhear. “It happened again.”

Melody’s eyes widened. She gasped, “No way,” at the same time Ellie shook her head and said, “What happened again?”

“You and Wolverine?”

LouAnn leaned in. “Who’s Wolverine?”