The Yearning (3 page)

Chapter Two

Desire compelled Jasmine forward even as a thread of panic stole up her spine. Had Violet and Lily seen them leave the floor? If not, how long would it be before they noticed? Where was he taking her?

His earlier comment nagged. He didn’t have anything planned for the next couple of days or nights.

Jasmine forced down a swallow. She’d asked about work to learn if he’d be missed immediately. Too easily, he told her he would not. Her sisters would be pleased if she lured him to their house tonight. If not, where would she end up?

Dizzy with ambivalence, she allowed him to lead her past the restrooms and a small, cluttered office. He paused at the opened back door where two club employees enjoyed a smoke and shared laughter. The young men cast them a look, then exchanged knowing glances. Sly smiles plumped their youthful cheeks as they discarded their cigarettes and moved past, returning to their jobs.

Mike brought her outside. Late-summer air, humid and heavy with the ocean’s tang, enveloped her. The dimly lit alley stretched the length of this establishment and the other businesses. Her heart jumped at the metallic clack of the door closing. She heard traffic whooshing by on the next street. Faint music pumped from the club. Laughter floated on the gentle breeze, coming from an unknown place, since she and Mike were the only ones around. She asked, “Why are we back here?”

His mouth captured hers. Her apprehension fell away, turning into stark need. She tried to slip her arm over his shoulder. He stopped her, taking her wrist and tearing his mouth free. “Not here.”

Her heels clicked on the asphalt as he led her to the adjacent building, set back from the club and closed for the night. He stopped next to a door stenciled with fading white letters stating: Delivery Only. If the same young men or others came outside for a smoke, they wouldn’t see her or him.

Without warning, images of Travis sped through her mind. Him ordering her to undress in the secluded apartment above his shop. Her wrists and ankles lashed to his bed. His frightening smile.

Jasmine’s heart crashed into her chest. She looked at Mike, her emotions torn between worry and craving.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, reading her fear. Holding her face gently, he studied her, his dark eyes concerned. “Have you been raped?”

It never got that far. Her sisters had arrived and—she shook her head, not wanting to think about it. “No.”

“But someone hurt you.”

Her mind saw the belt in Travis’s hand. She recalled its whistle as it hit the air. “He tried. I got away.”

“A boyfriend?”

She lied. “Yes.” Her voice sounded strange, strangled as she next offered the truth. “He seemed fine at first. I didn’t know he was doing meth and that he’d injured another woman. He got crazy and—” She couldn’t continue.

Mike’s thumbs skimmed her jawline, stoking her pulse, making her limp and restless for more.

“Why did you choose me tonight?” he asked.

Her smile wobbled, feeling weird. “Like I said before, I liked the way you handled that young woman. You were the perfect gentleman.”

“That may be, but I wasn’t the only one showing restraint. The bouncer was a regular sweetheart.”

Her smile widened. “I’m sure he’s a nice guy and really I don’t want to sound unkind, but he’s not you. Haven’t you seen yourself in a mirror recently?” She could scarcely hold back her wonder. “You’re freaking awesome.”

He barked a laugh. “Bullshit.”

“You are.” She touched his bottom lip with her fingers, breathless at its silkiness. Her words rushed out. “I spotted you the moment I reached the dance floor. It pissed me off when the redhead got to you first. The server told me there were a dozen other women interested in you. Could be she was lying. It might have been more. That’s why I sent you the beer. It was the only way I knew to get you to notice me.”

His eyes rounded in amazement. “You wouldn’t be putting me on now, would you?”

She reached for her purse. “I have a mirror. You really should look at your—”

“Fuck that.” He lowered his head and captured her mouth.

An indecent grunt tore from the back of her throat. Lips parting, she accepted his tongue, needing its wet warmth more than she required oxygen or food. She tasted a hint of the beer he’d drank, along with his flavor, which spoke of cleanliness and good health. His chin and upper lip rasped hers with his beginning stubble.

She wound her arms around him. Eager to touch, her hands moved up and down his muscled back.

He ground his lean hips into her mound, taunting her with his imposing cock. Her pussy clenched, bidding him inside. Unaware, he trailed his fingers over her cheek, sending tingles to her temple. His hand ventured lower, past the line of her jaw and throat to the edge of her halter. He hesitated, interpreting her reaction, before he slipped his fingers inside, his palm clothing her naked breast, his heat searing it. She edged nearer, her knees knocking his, telling him she craved all he had to give. Assured, he squeezed her flesh hungrily.

It wasn’t enough.

With his superior height and weight, he backed her into the building. Shoulders pressing the weathered wood, she moaned. His tongue invaded deeper, while his other hand explored.

Bunching her skirt in his fist, he lifted the gauzy fabric, exposing her to the night air. Its sultry breath licked the moisture bathing her opening. The side of his hand grazed her, moving from her navel to her mound.

There, he stopped, most likely surprised. He broke the kiss, stepped back and whispered, “My God.”

Mike dropped to one knee in front of her and looked up.

Silken waves the color of cocoa framed her face. Her graceful nostrils flared. She searched his eyes, no doubt gauging what lay beneath his shock.

He found it difficult to breathe or think. She wasn’t wearing panties. Even more amazing was what she did wear—a silvery belly chain and navel ring with tiny diamonds in an ornate design that dangled over her slightly rounded stomach. The gems winked in the scant light, trailing beads of brightness to her shaved pubes.

Jasmine’s feminine folds were slick with womanly moisture, plump and impatient. In spite of her bad experience with the fucker she’d dated, she hadn’t given up on men. She wanted him. Equally important, she trusted him.

His cock hardened painfully, insistent on entry. Eyes closed, he touched his mouth to her smooth mound, enthralled by the exposed skin. His tongue snaked over it.

She gasped and parted her legs, enticing him further.

Her real scent, earthy and feminine, wafted up, stealing what remained of his admired restraint. “Grab the ends of your skirt on each side.” He had to taste her.

Obedient, she gathered the fabric in her hands and pulled it to her waist.

He pushed her wrists into the building, holding them captive as he examined her. The murky light didn’t hide her engorged clit, blushing dark above her cleft. He’d seen few things more beautiful. Tongue poised, he flicked it over her erect nub.

She moaned brazenly, her thigh muscles tensing. As cautious as she’d been, now she became wild, twisting her hips to bring her mound closer to his mouth, begging for relief. Mike wasn’t about to give it so easily. By dragging this out in a public place, where someone might discover them, he’d added to the allure. Like most women, she wanted simulated danger.

A riot of sounds filled the steamy night—the rumble of passing cars, a horn blaring with its shriek weakened by distance, snatches of voices carried on the muggy wind, Jasmine’s mewl in response to his mouth embracing her defenseless sex.

His tongue probed her inner recesses, lapping her salty dew, indulging his appetite, while ignoring hers. She bent her knees to force his tongue nearer her clit. He used more pressure on her wrists, wordlessly commanding her to follow his lead. To wait for what he would offer.

“Please,” she groaned in a guttural voice.

Resting his forehead on her belly, he breathed heavily, refusing to relent. “Straighten your knees.”

The back of her head hit the building with a tiny, frustrated whack. Her wrists flexed within his grasp as she clenched her fists. Each panting gasp quivered her sweet little tummy. Finally, her knees straightened.

Pleased, he licked the trail of light drizzling toward her groin. She reacted instantly, nudging nearer, intent on her goal.

Not yet ready to allow it, he moved his head away, tipping it back to look at her. She’d sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. Her eyes sought his and implored.

He winked.

Her slender brows arched.

Swooping down, he latched onto her sex, his tongue circling her clit. Contented sighs poured from her each time he made brief contact with the nub. Soon, she learned the value of obedience and opened her body to his will. Not even the murmur of female voices coming from the end of the alley slowed Jasmine’s hitching breaths. Oblivious to everything except this—or simply not caring what anyone else saw—she delivered herself to him.

Mike welcomed her gift and held her clit carefully between his teeth, keeping it prisoner as his tongue teased and tempted, working its magic. To the side, the club’s door opened. Music spilled out, the melody loud and lusty. A female voice complained, “I can’t believe the shitty tip that jerk gave me.”

A male voice responded, “Relax. I saw Sara trip him on the way out.”

The girl laughed.

Beneath Mike’s mouth, Jasmine writhed, her muffled moans telling him release wasn’t far away. He withdrew his tongue and suckled to delay the inevitable. Her whimper stiffened his cock even more.

The girl who’d received the lousy tip said something indistinct. The boy coughed. At the end of the alley, the same female voices continued an increasingly heated conversation.

With no further delay, Mike licked Jasmine’s clit rough and fast. Not expecting it, her body alternately tensed and trembled as pleasure lurched through her. He imagined her moving her head back and forth, willing him to stop, unable to handle the sensation.

He gave her even more. During it, the voices of the club employees receded and the door clicked closed. Jasmine’s wrists relaxed within his fingers. She slumped into the building, spent from her orgasm, unable to fight his determined mouth.

His tongue stroked her sensitive area until she came again, harder than before. Releasing her wrists, he pushed to his feet and folded her in his embrace.

Inside the club, the muted music grew progressively torrid, conjuring scenes of men and women molded together, their sexes meeting as they danced. Here, Jasmine’s head sank to his shoulder. Her hands cupped his ass as she swayed to the tune.

Gratified and seriously horny, he turned circle after circle, dancing her away from the building.

She giggled.

He whispered in her ear, “I like your body jewelry.”

“Thanks.” Her voice purred. “I really love your tongue.”

Mike buried his face in her hair, trying to quiet his proud laughter.

She cuddled close, her fingers fondling his butt and traversing the furrow between his cheeks.

Sweet Jesus. His penis behaved as if a woman had never touched him there, the head pressing against the barrier of his fly, wanting her searching fingers and mouth on it. He choked out his words. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to control myself.”

“Then don’t.” She paused to pull in more air and spoke on a whispery sigh. “Come home with me, please.”

Hunger deepened her voice, giving him an idea of how she’d sound when he mounted her. Intoxicated at the thought, he turned again and grinned at her newest giggle. He planned to show off and try a more complicated dance move when he unexpectedly caught movement in his peripheral vision. Gaze shifting to the right, he paused.

At the end of the alley, two young women huddled beneath the pool of yellow light from the gas lamp. They spoke in subdued voices he couldn’t possibly overhear. Were they the ones who’d sounded close to arguing? If so, why were they still hanging around this place and talking so low?

The one on the right appeared to be in her late twenties. She had light brown hair and a pallid complexion, which looked out of place in the sunny Keys. The other one, younger by a few years, was equally fair. She wore her hair very short, like a man, and had dyed it an impossible platinum blonde.

Neither appeared to notice him or Jasmine. In fact, they looked everywhere except this alley. Their presence didn’t feel right. As a former law enforcement officer, he thought it seemed downright staged. He glanced at Jasmine.

Anxiety pinched her features, so fuzzy with contentment a few moments ago.

He frowned. “Do you know those two?”

Her head snapped from them to him, her eyes widened in confusion. “What?”

“You heard me.”

At his abrupt tone, she stepped back and kept her voice low. “No.” Head bowed, she adjusted her halter top to make certain it covered her breasts. “I don’t know them.” She lifted her face and avoided his eyes. “Did they see us?”

“Not from way over there they didn’t.”

She nodded and turned away, arms hugging her middle.

He studied her narrow shoulders, the sleek expanse of her back revealed by her dress. Two small moles decorated her tawny skin, one on her right shoulder blade, the other on the graceful slope of her spine. On her second sigh, his shoulders slumped. What in the fuck was the matter with him? So what if two women decided to use this alley for their incessant chatter? Could be they were so deep in debate over whatever in the hell women talked about, they forgot to keep walking. Stranger things had happened. At least it hadn’t been a bunch of guys invading this space.

“Hey.” Hands resting on her firm biceps, he eased her into him, her back to his front.

With her plush ass blanketing his groin, he murmured, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.”

She turned in his arms. It took her a few seconds to lift her head and another to open her eyes.

Unexpectedly, a wave of tenderness hit hard. In her blue-green gaze, he saw guileless yearning. Beneath it, he sensed a wounded soul who needed his protection. How crazy was that for a man who’d failed his duty so miserably? Driven to redeem himself with her, he ran his hands down her buttery arms and used his softest voice. “Despite my acting like an SOB, does your invitation still stand?”