Stroke of Luck

Oh, God, she wanted this so badly. She wanted to give herself to him.

Heat rippled through her and turned to blazing desire. Her breasts swelled, and she could feel the melting heat between her legs. She could feel his cock growing hard against her, and she wanted to reach down and stroke it. Then to feel it glide inside her.

Her arms curled around his neck, and she clung to him.

Then his mouth tore away from her.

“Fuck, this is a spectacularly bad idea,” he muttered.

As he pulled back, the bra started to slip away. He grabbed the straps and pushed them back in place, then fastened it again.

“You said you were going to get dressed.” He stepped back, then turned and strode away.

4

April closed the door to the guest bedroom and leaned against it, catching her breath.

Her pulse still raced at the memory of Quinn holding her tightly to his body, her breasts crushed against his naked, muscular chest. And his cock thick and solid against her belly.

She tingled at the thought of welcoming it inside her. Longed to feel it fill her completely.

She sucked in a breath and pushed away from the door. She unhooked her damp bra as she walked across the room to the en suite bathroom, then stripped off the panties. She hung the lingerie on a towel rack to dry, then showered.

Afterward, she combed her long hair, then blow-dried it. Once it was cascading in shiny waves over her shoulders, she walked back into the bedroom and pulled on the coral bra and panty set and the sundress she’d been wearing earlier.

As she turned toward the door, she suddenly felt overwhelmed. So much had happened today. Her emotions were frayed. She sank down on the bed and stared at herself in the mirror.

What was she going to do? Austin had invited her to stay here, and she would tonight, but what would she do after that? She didn’t have money for a bus ticket back to Lachelle. And the thought of going back there right now after what had happened with Maurice …

She dropped her face into her hands. No, she couldn’t deal with that. Not yet.

She had four weeks before she had to return to work.

But she had nowhere else to go. No one who could help her.

Her phone beeped. She walked to the side table by the couch and picked it up. Who would be texting her?

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the display.

Maurice.

What could he possibly want?

She opened the text app and saw a number of texts from him.

He couldn’t possibly be apologizing and trying to get her back after all that he’d done. Could he?

Not that she’d take him back.

As she started reading the texts, her chest tightened.

Don’t bother coming back to work. You’re fired.

Maurice owned the company she worked for. She shouldn’t be surprised that he wouldn’t let her continue working there.

And don’t bother looking for a job elsewhere in town. You won’t get one.

Her heart sank. That was no idle threat. He had enough clout in Lachelle to ensure no one hired her. No one wanted to be in Maurice’s or his family’s bad graces. They essentially owned the town.