All Through the Night (Liar's Web) (11 page)

As he walked into the kitchen the soft glow of the fridge let him know he wasn't alone. Darcel was standing in front of the fridge looking like a naughty centerfold in a men's magazine. From where he was standing, all he could see was the back of her—an indecent amount of leg and back exposed and an itty-bitty outfit barely covering her shapely backside.

“
What are you doing up?” he growled.

Darcel jumped at the sound of his voice, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him. She raised her hand to her chest and let out a ragged breath. “You scared me.”

She was facing him now, and he sucked in a deep breath as her skimpy outfit clung tightly to her voluptuous curves. If he'd thought her white baby doll top had been steamy, this outfit was bordering on the X-rated. It was way worse than the baby doll top, he realized, as his gaze automatically drifted to the lace camisole and the matching boy shorts. Her boobs were bursting out of the top, so much that he half expected to see her nipples pop out. Her shorts were so tight they looked like panties, and he could clearly see the outline of her mound.

“
I was thirsty,” she explained as she held up her glass of milk.

“
Don't you own anything that fits?” The words popped out of his mouth before he could pull them back in. For some reason he couldn't think straight around this woman.

She tugged down her boy shorts then self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest.

“
I forgot to pack a robe.” Her cheeks reddened under his scrutiny. “I didn't know you were home.”

“
Get outta here,” he said in a strangled voice.

“
Excuse me?” Her voice was filled with outrage.

He took a step toward her. “I'm serious, Darcel. Get outta here.”

“
I just wanted some milk. Chill out.” She turned her back on him and placed the milk carton back in the fridge, her rounded butt cheeks bouncing under the fabric of her boy shorts. Erotic thoughts filled his head as he imagined himself pulling down her shorts and burying himself deeply inside her.

He felt himself harden at the thought of it. He had to forcibly stop himself from taking the five steps it would take to reach her side. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his side, taking small, shallow breaths to dull his need.

Darcel turned around and reached for her glass of milk, her heart-shaped lips taunting him as she took several gulps with gusto. Trueblood watched as she swallowed several times, her throat muscles convulsing in ripples, until she finally let out a satisfied sigh as she emptied the glass. She wiped her hand across her mouth, missing a spot of milk that lingered above her lip.

He continued to stare at her without speaking, his dark eyes mesmerized by how sexy she looked in her pajamas and how seductively she drank milk. He watched as she walked toward him, shoulders erect, fluffy breasts pushed forward, hips swaying as if she were deliberately trying to entice him. As she brushed past him, she reached out and grazed her fingers across the intricate Native American tattoo imprinted on his bicep. “Interesting tattoo, Trueblood.”

“
Don't…touch me,” he said through gritted teeth.

Her mouth opened in surprise, and she took a step backward. Hurt flashed in her eyes as she asked, “Why do you hate me so much?”

He grabbed her by the wrist and pushed her gently against the butcher block island in the middle of the kitchen. “I don't hate you,” he denied in a clipped tone as his gaze roamed over every inch of her—her striking face, those expressive eyes, that succulent body.

“
Liar,” she said with trembling lips.

He took one step forward so his body was pressed against hers. Darcel's eyes widened in surprise as she felt his rock-solid arousal pushing against her middle. He gazed into her eyes, noticing for the first time they had golden brown flecks, so very different from his own obsidian-colored eyes. He reached out and wiped away her milk mustache, gently tracing the shape of her lips before his fingers fell away. “If you don't leave now—”

“
Maybe I don't want to leave,” she whispered.

Without a word, he lifted her up onto the island, knocking items off the counter in the process. The sound of silverware hitting the hardwood floor rang out in the stillness of the kitchen. He reached out and caressed her breasts through the flimsy fabric of her top. She let out a moan as he squeezed her nipples. He watched as she threw her head back, her face awash in pleasure.

He quickly pushed the camisole off her shoulders, sucking in air as the sight of her luscious breasts greeted him. They were full and ripe, the most perfect he'd ever seen. Huge, he thought giddily, feeling like a kid in a candy store. He pushed her back on the island, lowering his head to lick her dusky nipples, his tongue swirling in circles as he took turns with each of her breasts.

Darcel was writhing under him as she reached up and ran her hands through his hair, pulling his head toward her. He put one breast into his mouth and expertly suckled it, his hair streaming across her mocha skin as he worshiped her. She let out a low, deep moan that sent tremors straight through him.

He reached down and caressed her through her shorts, feeling her heat through the lightweight material. Impatiently, he tugged them off, letting them fall to the floor as he gently pried her legs open. His hand moved toward the dark nest of curls, expertly spreading her open so his fingers could explore her moist folds. He felt her heat the moment he gained entry. He let out a groan. She was wet for him. So incredibly wet. Darcel bucked against his fingers, riding them as they slid inside her slick spot.

“
You're so wet,” he marveled as he continued to explore her, his fingers lightly caressing her clit. He lowered his head to her stomach, his tongue gliding across her taut abdomen like a snake, delving lower and lower in his exploration. He felt her body tense as he reached the soft nest of curls covering her mound. Gently, he parted her folds and placed his tongue on her nub, his strokes feather-light as he pleasured her.

She relaxed underneath him, moving in rhythm with his tongue strokes until he felt her coming undone. He could feel the strong ripples of her orgasm as she raised her body upward and moved against his tongue. She released a guttural cry then drew her thighs together as she rode the wave.

A few seconds later she reached for him, cupping his erection through his denim jeans, running her palm up and down his fly, until he was ready to explode. He unzipped his jeans, groaning as she reached down and pulled out his shaft, her fingers tightly wrapped around him as she stroked him. Pleasure skyrocketed through his body as she caressed him. She was driving him to madness with the way she was touching him. Torturing him. A feeling of impatience gripped him as his desire threatened to consume him like molten lava.

He was used to being in control, of setting the pace—but he was no longer in control as his need to possess this woman pulsed in his veins like an ancient drumbeat. A primal feeling swept over him—he wanted to devour her, to make her his. At this very moment. He didn't think he could wait a moment longer. He swiveled her legs around so her butt was planted at the edge of the counter. “Wait a second,” he instructed as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, quickly finding the condom nestled between his bills.

He swiftly ripped open the small square and sheathed his erection in one fluid movement. He spread Darcel's legs wide open and with one quick stroke, pushed himself inside her. She let out a cry and instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her. Her heels were resting on his lower back, just above his buttocks, and her eyes were firmly closed.

“
Open your eyes,” he demanded as a sense of urgency gripped him.

Her eyes blinked open so they were staring intensely into one another's eyes.

“
Say my name,” he ordered as he withdrew himself from her, inch by tantalizing inch. She let out a cry as he withdrew and pulled at his hips in an attempt to draw him back in.

“
Jake,” she moaned when he pumped himself back into her, his hips slamming against her pelvis he ground himself into her.

The sound of his name on her lips sounded good to him, intimate even. Hardly anyone called him Jake. And now she was moaning his name over and over again like a chant. It was music to his ears. Sensual. Powerful.

“
Do you like this?” he asked, pulling out a little as a tease, then driving himself back inside her.

“
Mmmmm…yes, yes. More. Deeper. Faster, Jake.”

Jake plunged himself to the hilt inside her, and for a moment he almost lost all control to the overwhelming sensation of being inside her. He groaned as she clenched her muscles around his shaft, taking him to a realm of pleasure he rarely experienced. He held himself back, wanting to make it good for her. Wanting to make it last. He increased his rhythm, moving inside her faster and faster, until he felt himself being pulled into a heavenly oblivion.

When she reached around and squeezed his buttocks, he lost all sense of control, and as he felt the waves of her orgasm cresting around him, he gave in to his own powerful release. He let out a primal cry. He slumped against Darcel as he came, his head resting against her sweat-slickened breasts. The beat of her heart thumped noisily against his ear, and for a crazy moment, he wondered what it would feel like to fall asleep like this every night. Her hand was still caressing his lower back, moving in small, gentle movements that felt a little bit like heaven.

He pulled himself away from her, unsheathing himself from the condom and disposing of it in the trash bin under the sink. He turned away discreetly as she pulled her clothes back on and he threw on his jeans. When he turned back toward her, she was looking at him with an expectant look in her eye. He didn't know what to say.

For once, he was speechless. Absolutely clueless. They'd just shared the most intimate, carnal experience a man and woman could share. And yet they were still strangers to one another. They'd crossed some invisible line in the sand, and they both knew it. Where did they go from here?

“
Well, goodnight,” she said softly. She stood with her arms wrapped around her waist, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. He couldn't tell whether she wanted to run like hell or sit down at his kitchen counter and sit a while.

“
Goodnight,” he mumbled, feeling at a loss as to how to make this moment less clumsy.

She padded away in bare feet, her movements quick and graceful. He watched her walk down the hall and up the staircase, disappearing from sight within a matter of seconds.

After she'd gone, he realized he'd missed his moment. A moment where he could've said something to her—anything other than silence. He was annoyed with himself for losing control. He'd been so caught up in the moment he hadn't been able to pull himself back from the sheer ecstasy of making love to her, even though he knew deep down it was irresponsible. Selfish, even. He was supposed to be guarding her, not getting booty.

It had been the hottest sex of his life—mind-blowing moments of pure, savage passion. Yet he didn't have a clue as to what she'd wanted from him afterward. He hated the fact she'd looked at him after they'd made love with want in her eyes. What did she want from him
?
 
Damned if he knew the answer to that question. Once again, she probably thought he was an insensitive ass. As he looked around the room, he knew one thing for certain. He didn't think he would ever be able to look at his kitchen in quite the same way again.

Chapter Seven

Darcel woke the next morning to the tantalizing smell of frying bacon and scrambled eggs. For a moment she was too absorbed by the heavenly smell emanating toward the guestroom to focus on the events of last night. All she knew was her stomach was growling.

The last thing she'd consumed last night had been the glass of milk she'd scarfed down right before things had heated up in the kitchen. Random images came flooding back to her—Jake's tribal tattoo, running her fingers through his silky hair, her butt perched on his kitchen counter. Her multiple orgasms.

Things had happened so quickly. One minute she'd been raiding his fridge and the next she was splayed out on his kitchen counter having the best sex of her life. The shocking part was that it was with Jake. Trueblood. No. Jake. She couldn't call him by his last name anymore. They'd had sex.

Mind-altering, fabulous, wild sex. They'd used a condom, thank goodness! She had to give him credit for pulling out the condom because she'd been so incredibly turned on she hadn't even been thinking about protection.
Duh! Darcel. Sex 101. Always use a condom.

Her cheeks started to flush as memories of last night came flooding back. The most vivid one was of her legs around his waist, pulling him inside her. Darcel blushed at the memory, her body instantly reacting to the sensory images from last night. She was starting to feel a little heated, and her nipples hardened as she remembered the way Jake had explored her entire body, making her feel things she'd never experienced before. And she'd said his name in the midst of their lovemaking…over and over again like a chant.

When had he become Jake? When he'd ordered her to say his name and she'd screamed it over and over again? No, it was way too late to go back to calling him Trueblood. It would feel too strange tumbling from her lips. From now on he was Jake. Jake Trueblood. It suited him. Rugged. Unyielding. Unique. Fierce.