Karma (15 page)

He paused to kiss her, to let her know
she
mattered. Then he nudged his cock at her entrance, finding her slick and wet, eager and ready for him. He shook with the strength it took to hold back, needing to fill her as much as he was afraid to hurt her.

“You won’t hurt me,” she promised.

Had he spoken out loud? He had no time to find out. She reached between them and cupped his shaft in her hand, causing him to lose all semblance of restraint and control. He thrust inside, filling her, taking her, like she wanted.

Like he needed.

Finding her so damned hot and tight and perfect, he wished he could feel more, take her without barriers between them, but that was something he never did. Had never even considered before.

“Oh, you feel good,” she said, her words a whisper in his ear.

“Yes.” He slid out and back in, repeating the motion, easing his passage, letting her get used to him, his fullness, their friction.

Had he ever taken such care with a woman before?

“Dare?” she asked.

“Hmm.” He met her gaze and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead.

“I changed my mind. I want to be on top,” she said, hooking her leg around his.

He laughed, liking her honesty and her enthusiasm. The flip was easy enough to accomplish and soon he had her over him. She met his gaze, an aroused look in her eyes he’d never seen before and damned if it didn’t make him harder.

She bent her knees on either side of him and pivoted her hips in a slow circle, groaning each time his pubic bone hit just the right spot. He gritted his teeth as she contracted around him. She’d wanted control and now she had it. He’d given it willingly and found it was even better with her on top, taking her pleasure, grinding herself into him as her breaths came in shallower gasps, her moans became deeper and sexier.

She took him along with her, milking him as her tight inner muscles brought him closer and closer to climax. He was too close too fast and he needed her with him when he fell over. Reaching out, he cupped her breasts in his hands, kneading the plump flesh before he focused on her already hard nipples, pinching them between his thumb and forefingers, rolling the tight buds until she cried out.

Pleasure? Pain? He wasn’t sure and immediately released his grip, but she shook her head wildly.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she urged him, and he grabbed for her breasts once more. She rocked her hips against him harder, her moans turning into cries of pure pleasure and he couldn’t hold on another second, was going to explode.

“Come for me, baby,” he urged her, tightening his hold on her breasts, thrusting his hips up, his cock higher, deeper, reaching for everything.

Then, as if he’d released the floodgates, she came apart, her soft cries melding with his, her body grinding against him as he pumped into her over and over again, coming along with her, lost to thought and reason. All he could do was feel, everything shattering inside him, then slowly, slowly rebuilding as he became aware of his surroundings again.

Liza had collapsed on top of him, her body pressed tight against his, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Slick with sweat, they lay together, her breathing harsh in his ears. He could barely catch his own breath. Seconds turned into minutes as neither of them moved.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and rolled them over, keeping her tight against him as he wondered.

What the hell had just happened? Because he’d sure never felt anything like it before.

Liza slept like a baby, she realized as dawn came, beams of sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. She’d slept curled into Dare and she awakened the same way, at peace. Except now she was aware and her mind couldn’t stop spinning. Not with regrets.

Never those. Not after the most explosive sex of her life with a man who’d been so aware of her needs she’d had a lump in her throat more than once. And Liza didn’t cry
during sex. She didn’t. The act had never moved her emotions to such an extent, but last night had been different.

Everything about Dare and being with him was different. Unique. And scary.

“You’re up,” he said, sounding too confident for a man who held her, her back to his stomach.

“How did you know?”

“Your breath is coming in shallow pants. Ready to bolt?” he asked tightly.

Caught, she expelled a long breath. “Would you let me if I tried?”

“Hell, no.” His arms squeezed around her more tightly. “Then again, I won’t force you to stay.” He eased his grip giving her wiggle room if she wanted to roll away.

She stayed put. “I knew what I was doing last night. I’m not going to run away from you now.” She’d fight her fears. She could handle a morning after, she told herself.

His tension seemed to ease and he turned her over for a long, leisurely kiss. One she eagerly returned.

“Morning,” he murmured when he was through.

She smiled. “It is. Which means I’m going to be late if I don’t shower,” she said, truly disappointed.

She had to be in Connecticut early or she’d definitely want to spend the morning getting reacquainted with Dare and his amazing body. Once had been all he’d allowed last night. He was insistent on watching out for her head. Which, she realized, didn’t hurt all that much this morning.

“I’d join you, but you’d never get out of here on time.”

“I know.” But visions of them together in her shower, warm water licking over his tanned skin, had her trembling.

“Go.” He lightly pushed against her. “I’ll make breakfast and shower when you’re finished,” he said, and headed for the kitchen, leaving her alone and sexually frustrated.

No doubt about it, she’d be thinking of him for the rest of the day, which had her wondering if that had been his intention all along.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Liza had showered and dressed. Her head didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had the day before. Dare Barron was more potent than any medication a doctor could prescribe. She’d enjoyed last night and was unwilling to let any stray thoughts get in the way this morning. She met him in the kitchen where he was finishing a bowl of cereal.

He wore his jeans, unbuttoned and slung low on his hips and no shirt, revealing the ripple and pull of muscle. Liza swallowed hard. She was suddenly hungry and it wasn’t for food.

She looked him over, her gaze settling on the tattoo on his left arm. She’d been too busy focusing on his other body parts to pay much attention to it last night. Curious, she walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey.” She settled in the seat next to him where he’d laid out a similar breakfast for her.

He looked her over, his hot gaze devouring her, and he whistled. “Nice outfit.”

She couldn’t withhold a smile. She’d chosen her favorite sexy beige suit and killer pumps just for him, not that she’d admit it. The man’s ego was big enough.

“I thought you said you were making breakfast,” she asked, glancing at the cold cereal on the table.

She did like teasing him.

“This is as good as it gets,” he said with an easy shrug. “Might as well get used to it.”

She wasn’t about to touch the last part of that statement, she thought. “At least you make a mean toast and jelly.”

“Glad you think so.” He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “How’s the head?” he asked.

“Much better, actually.”

“Great.” He smiled, obviously pleased she was feeling better.

She had no doubt he’d helped her speedy recovery. She
glanced at him and once again her gaze found his tattoo. “Dare?”

“Yeah?”

She pulled her chair closer to him and lightly traced the tattooed band around his arm. He stiffened at her touch but didn’t stop her from studying or touching the intricate design. At a glance it appeared to be a basic tribal band, but there was also what looked like a symbol woven into it that she couldn’t see well, let alone decipher.

The one thing she did know was that she found the inking extremely sexy. “What does the tattoo mean?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s nothing,” he said in a sharp voice that took her by surprise.

She jerked her hand back, hurt by his cold tone. She narrowed her gaze and studied his suddenly closed expression.

In an instant, the relaxed man she’d come to know over the last couple of days had vanished. The happy, easy-to-laugh, easier-to-smile guy had disappeared.

Shut her out was more like it and that hurt more than it should.

“It was just a question.” She rubbed her arms, annoyed with herself for being bothered by the sudden chill.

He didn’t reply.

This
was why she didn’t do relationships. Relationships involved emotion, and emotion led to disappointment. She looked at the cereal in front of her and decided she was no longer hungry.

She reached for the bowl, intending to put it in the sink, when Dare placed a hand on her arm. “Wait,” he said.

She paused but remained silent.

“The tattoo has meaning. Deep, dark, personal meaning,” he said, his stare on the table and not on her.

“So sorry I pried,” she said, not hiding her sarcasm.

It wasn’t okay for him to get into her head and her feelings about family, only to decide later that not only were
there some things he wouldn’t reveal, but that he would freeze her out for asking a simple question.

“Look, it’s not something I usually talk about. People don’t usually ask.”

She hadn’t realized she was just anyone. She stiffened, her pride and her hurt getting stronger with every word he spoke. “If that’s supposed to help, it doesn’t.”

He exhaled hard, and though she could see this was difficult for him, she needed more than a surface explanation. But she wouldn’t beg for him to let her in.

“Would it help if I said that if I was going to talk to anyone, it would be you?”

She blinked at the unexpected, softer admission. “Whenever you’re ready,” she heard herself saying.

“How about now?” he asked, surprising her in an equally soft tone.

She curled her fingers into a tight ball, angry at him for drawing out her feelings when she wanted to stay distant, to remain in a place where Dare and his emotions couldn’t touch her.

But they did. “I’m listening,” she said begrudgingly, because she still wasn’t sure that he wanted to share this with her.

He raised his head and met her gaze. “I thought you had to get on the road?”

She had an early appointment in Mystic, Connecticut, to discuss the first phase of renovations with a client. “I was supposed to head over, but I got a text from my accountant. He needs me to stop by this morning before I leave.”

Peter Dalton always arrived at the office before everyone else and left promptly at five, his work meticulously completed. If he’d contacted her so early, she knew it was important and probably had to do with her brother. Her stomach churned at the thought of more Brian drama, but that wasn’t her concern at the moment. Nor did she want to discuss her brother with Dare.

Liza turned toward him. The pain in his face was unmistakable and she realized she shouldn’t have been so sensitive. Whatever the story was behind the tattoo, it was deep and obviously important.

And he was willing to share it with her.

“I’m listening,” she said softly, with more of her heart than she’d opened before.

“Remember we talked about the party your brother threw back when we were kids?” Dare asked, the words sounding torn from inside him.

She nodded, her stomach in even more knots now.

Before Dare could continue, the front doorbell rang.

Liza frowned, annoyed at the interruption. “Just ignore it,” she said. She wasn’t expecting company.

For all she knew it could be a neighbor and she didn’t want anyone to interrupt his story. “Go on,” she encouraged him.

The doorbell rang again, followed by loud banging.

“Someone’s impatient,” Dare said, turning in the direction of the sound.

With a groan, Liza rose to her feet. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is,” she promised. She headed to the door, Dare following behind her.

She peered through the small window that overlooked the porch, took one glance at her visitor, and muttered a very unladylike curse.

“Who is it?” Dare asked.

She shook her head, wishing she’d followed her gut and ignored the bell.

“Brace yourself,” she muttered as she opened the door. “Brian,” she said, greeting her sibling who waited impatiently outside.

Liza stared at her brother while feeling the heat of Dare’s body and probable glare behind her. She had to get rid of Brian and do it fast.

She braced her hand on the doorframe. “This isn’t a good time.”

Brian looked from Liza to Dare, who’d stepped around her, still bare-chested, as he took his place close by her side.

Blatant disbelief, then anger, flooded her brother’s features. “What the hell is he doing here?”

She swallowed hard. “That’s none of your business. You need to go and I’ll call you later.” She gripped the doorframe harder, her fingers aching under the strain.

As usual, Brian ignored her request. “I thought I was crazy when I saw an SUV in your driveway. I mean it’s eight
A.M.
and you never have guys over.”

“Brian!” She didn’t need her brother broadcasting her lack of a personal life now.

He shook his head. “How could you get involved with a
cop
?”
He sneered the word as if Dare’s profession disgusted him. Which it did.

A quick glance to her right told Liza Dare’s jaw was set, but so far he was remaining silent. A fact that could quickly change given the tense set of his muscles. He was ready to pounce given the right provocation. And Lord knew Brian would have no trouble providing it, especially if her brother was not in control.

So far Liza couldn’t tell. Though he was dressed for work, outward appearances didn’t mean he wasn’t hungover from the night before.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, resigned. It was obvious her brother wasn’t leaving as she’d insisted.

“I’m not talking in front of him.” Brian tipped his head toward Dare.