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A blast from the past can be hell on the heart. Come Again, Book 3 “Spend the night with me, Crystal.” One college hook...

Author: Baker Miranda

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A blast from the past can be hell on the heart. Come Again, Book 3 “Spend the night with me, Crystal.” One college hook-up with Ryan Anderson ripped Crystal LaRusso’s emotions wide open and hot-wired her to the world around her. After gaining control of her new abilities, she rebuilt her life and started a business as a sensual psychic. She’s bold, fearless and, admittedly, a little freaky. Black leather, exotic makeup and a reputation for only dating women keeps the world at a necessary distance—distance she can’t maintain when Ryan reappears in her life. Ryan has spent the last ten years wondering what went wrong between them, and now that she’s back in his life, Crystal has a lot of explaining to do. The chemistry is just as potent as it was ten years ago, so why does she keep running away? One night won’t be enough to satisfy Ryan’s need for her, but it might take the edge off. At the very least, he can ask her why she broke his heart—and this time he’s not leaving without an answer. Warning: This book contains an unforgettable one-night stand, a heroine with a taste for beautiful women, a quest that begins in a sex shop and ends in a sex club, and enough mind-blowing psychic sex to change one lucky man’s life forever.

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B Cincinnati OH 45249 Hook Up Copyright © 2012 by Miranda Baker ISBN: 978-1-61921-292-3 Edited by Mary Hamilton Cover by Lou Harper All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2012 www.samhainpublishing.com

Hook Up Miranda Baker

Dedication

For Natasha Moore, who leads by example but also gives excellent advice!

Chapter One

Crystal rubbed the back of her neck, trying to ease the tension headache building at the base of her skull. It was always hard to keep her mental shield tight when she was surrounded by this many people, but tonight her head felt like a dry sponge, soaking up all the emotions in the air—and this was just the rehearsal dinner. It would be even worse at the wedding tomorrow when she had to perform her maid of honor duties. She stifled a shudder as the groom’s cadre of frat-boy friends burst out laughing on the other side of the room. God, she hoped none of them recognized her. But of course they wouldn’t. Crissy LaRusso no longer existed, or if she did, she was very well camouflaged by black leather. She edged out of the dining room and dropped into a chair in the restaurant’s lobby, hoping for some peace and quiet. She forced herself to smile as Beth, Alisa’s desk mate from the library, dropped into the chair beside her. “God, what a crush, huh?” Beth said. Crystal nodded. “It’s giving me a headache.” “I bet it is.” Beth smoothed her thick wave of auburn hair out of her eyes. “Alisa says you’re psychic. Do crowds drive you crazy?” “Pretty much,” Crystal admitted. “I’m not exactly a psychic, although that’s what it says on my business cards. I’m an empath. I feel emotions, not read minds; however, some people have such strong emotions it feels like mindreading sometimes.” “Can you feel what I’m feeling right now?” Beth asked.

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“Yes,” Crystal said. “You’re curious…nervous. A little excited.” And straight, she reminded herself. “I get the feeling there’s something on your mind. Anything I can help you with?” Beth’s cheeks turned pink. “Alisa says you are the person to ask about vibrators.” She whispered the last word. Crystal’s tension eased as she found herself on familiar ground. “Did she tell you that’s how we met?” Since Alisa was going to marry the king of sex toys tomorrow, Crystal didn’t think her visits to Come Again were a secret anymore. Beth bit her lip and nodded. God, she was so cute, the absolute cliché of a repressed librarian—gorgeous, completely unaware of her appeal and scandalized at the mention of sex toys. Crystal gave her an encouraging grin. “It’s hard to talk shop without my props. Why don’t you come into Come Again sometime and we can discuss the various merits of length, width and battery power? I’m sure we can find you a good fit,” she offered. “We’ve got one of everything, and I’ve tried them all. What I like might not be what you like, but I can help narrow down the selection.” “That would be great. I’m not picky. I’m just sick of dating jerks.” Crystal caught a flash of bitterness and smiled in sympathy. “Got it. Men suck. I’m with you on that. Want to talk about it?” Beth groaned. “Heck no. I just want a date that doesn’t lie or steal my jewelry. Pulse optional.” “Darling, you’ll love the kind of pulse I have in mind for you.” She hummed under her breath, interrupting the rhythm and making Beth giggle. “I think I’ll get another drink.” Beth stood. “Want one?” “No, thanks.” A drink would make it harder to shield. “Thanks, Crystal. See you soon.” Beth walked back toward the party.

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Crystal knew she should follow her, but the thought made her head throb. The crowd was too volatile. She couldn’t do it. She’d have to find Alisa, say goodbye, and get the hell out of here. She pictured her quiet, empty house and the peace and solitude that waited for her until she felt serene enough to brave the throng again. She stood and smoothed her skirt, long by her standards, over her hips. Her matching corset was the most modest style from the SoloPlay Vamp collection, but she’d been drawing stares all evening. She’d wager she didn’t have the only tattoo in the room, but everyone else had their ink discretely covered up while the exotic pink orchid flowering across her back was proudly displayed. Shiny thigh-high black leather boots and twice as much eyeliner as any other woman in the room completed her armor. She used her edgy look to control the way the world saw her. The leather, extreme makeup and tattoo helped most people judge her, pigeonhole her as a freak and then leave her alone. Crystal stared into the dining room until she spotted Alisa, holding hands with Mark. They looked so sweet together. She smiled and shook her head, laughing silently. Those two kinksters looked completely normal on the outside—Alisa with her wispy blond hair and china blue eyes and Mark with his Ken-doll chin and quarterback shoulders—but Crystal knew they were seriously twisted in the middle. Her smile turned into a grin as she pictured Kinky Ken and BDSM Barbie becoming the spokespersons for Mark’s sex toy company, SoloPlay Enterprises. If Alisa had to go back to dating men—and there had never been a doubt in her mind that she would—Crystal was glad it was with someone like Mark, who could appreciate both kink and convention. Crystal raised her hand and waved, catching Alisa’s eye. Crystal pointed at her head and then at the door. She waved again and blew a kiss.


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Alisa shook her head and headed toward her, dragging Mark by the hand. “Don’t leave yet, Crystal! You’ve got to meet the best man. Hang on, I just saw him,” she said, glancing around the room. Mark searched with her, a selfsatisfied grin on his face, but then, he always looked smug these days. Crystal wondered if he was ever going to remember they had gone to college together. God, she hoped not. “His plane was late. That’s why he missed the rehearsal.” A happy smile curved her lips. “There he is. Don’t move.” Alisa darted across the room. Crystal watched her approach a man with blond hair. She could only see his back, but dread began to spiral inside her. No, it couldn’t be. Her heart beat faster, egged on by the tense excitement of Mark, standing close beside her. The man turned to greet Alisa. Crystal gasped. A bolt of fear, then longing, coursed through her, freezing her muscles in place. A kaleidoscope of emotions bombarded her as her mind and heart rioted, urging her to run. She stood, paralyzed, soaking up the changes in his appearance. The college-boy buzz was gone. His sun-streaked hair was brushed back from his forehead in an unruly mass that reached his collar. He was broader now, harder. His white shirt contrasted sharply with his deep tan, giving him a piratical look despite the classy suit. A wreath of lines bracketed his eyes, probably caused by the quick grin Crystal had never forgotten. He looked like the frat boy she had known, gone predator. Crystal struggled to surround herself with a wall of cool calm. She couldn’t run, at least not yet, but she could hide in plain sight. Ryan looked directly at her and his emotions blasted across the room, burning through her defenses. Desire. Resentment. Heat. Longing swept through her again, stealing her breath. His dark eyes absorbed the light in the room and reflected it back at her. Mahogany eyes, warm, like bittersweet chocolate. He was

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braced over her, waiting, holding her gaze with infinite tenderness. Her soul opened, enveloped him. Her consciousness spun out around them. Crystal jerked back from the memory. Her feet felt rooted to the floor. Her heart pounded as Ryan and Alisa moved toward them. Beside her, Mark chuckled. She turned to glare at him. “What?” he asked. “I figured turnabout was fair play. You introduced Alisa and me, after all.” His usually reserved blue eyes were full of fun. Mischief. Memory. Satisfaction. Now she understood why he’d been so smug all evening. It felt like a cosmic joke that Mark had finally remembered they’d gone to college together just in time to reintroduce her to the man who had ruined her life. Crystal was grateful for the anger that reminded her she wasn’t vulnerable anymore. Mark cocked his head, looking down at her, eyes suddenly wary. “I thought you might enjoy a blast from the past.” The irony made laughter bubble up in her throat, so she released it in a breathy chuckle. Laughter was excellent camouflage, better than leather, ink and the color black. She slid one arm around his waist and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “I’m positively thrilled, darling.” Mark didn’t know, no one did—and if she could hold it together through the wedding weekend from hell, no one ever would.

Ryan allowed Alisa to tug him across the room toward the woman he had noticed as soon as he’d arrived. This was Crissy LaRusso? She looked nothing like the sweet-faced eighteen-year-old he remembered from the Alpha Sig party. That Crissy had been an innocent. This Crissy looked like a stripper, dressed in shiny black leather and bare skin. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.


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He watched her whisper in Mark’s ear and felt jealousy slice through him. Alisa pulled him to a stop. “Ryan, I’d like to introduce Crystal, my maid of honor. Crystal, this is Ryan Anderson, Mark’s best friend and the man you’ll be walking down the aisle with tomorrow.” Crystal smiled but didn’t meet his eyes as she held out her hand. “Hello again.” He took her hand and held it when she would have pulled away after a brief touch of fingers. “Crissy—” “Crystal,” she corrected immediately. “It’s been a long time, Ryan.” He nodded, staring down at her until she looked at him. It only took a second for the years to disappear. “Do you two know each other?” Alisa asked. Biblically, carnally, unforgettably, yes, he thought. “Not anymore,” Crystal said, firmly dismissing him. She yanked her hand out of his grasp and looked at Alisa. “Sweetie, I’ve got to go. It’s way too loud in here for me. I’ll see you in the morning, bright and early, ready for your fairy princess transformation. Don’t stay up too late.” She winked and gave them all a wave. “Nice to see you again, Ryan.” She turned her back and walked out of the room. Ryan watched her go. He felt something cold and wet nudge his fingers and he drained the scotch Mark offered him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ve been holding out on me, buddy.” “And me, too, apparently,” Alisa said, crossing her arms. Mark gave them a self-satisfied grin that made Ryan want to punch him. “Ryan came to visit me at college ten years ago and hooked up with Crystal at a frat party. It took me a while to recognize her because she looked so different

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back then. Ryan will deny it, but I know damn well he never forgot her.” Mark hooked his arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “Surprise, buddy.” Alisa looked shocked. “Crystal? Are you kidding me? But she doesn’t—” “She did back then,” her fiancé interrupted. “Trust me. You should have seen those two before they finally made it up to a room.” “Stop.” Ryan didn’t want to think about the details again. He rubbed his chest, but he knew it wasn’t the scotch that caused it to burn. He’d fallen in love with Crissy LaRusso that night and every minute of the long trip back to California the next day had been torture because he’d lost his cell phone and couldn’t call her. By the time he hit San Jose, he’d decided to transfer to the Norton School of Business for graduate school, even though he had a teaching grant at Stanford. He just wanted to be with Crissy. God, he’d been so…young. “Aren’t you going after her?” Mark asked. Ryan shook his head, shrugging free of his friend’s arm. “Once was enough.” “All work and no play makes Ryan a dull boy.” Mark pressed a business card into his hand. “In case you change your mind.” The pink card was lettered in a funky, modern font with a highly stylized drawing of a tropical flower in the background. Crystal LaRusso, Sensual Psychic. Get In Touch and Come Again. Crissy was pretending to be psychic? He looked up at his friend. Mark’s eyes gleamed, daring him to refuse the bait. “Come along, darling.” He tugged his fiancée toward the dance floor. “Ryan has some catching up to do. See you later, buddy.” Ryan ran his thumb over the flower on the card. Even after all these years, the memory of betrayal was still sharp. She claimed they didn’t know each other anymore? He wondered if they had ever known each other at all. She had a lot of


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nerve treating him like a stranger. Anger burned through him. Abruptly, he decided he wouldn’t allow her to dismiss him as easily as she had ten years ago. He arrived outside in time to see the valet hand Crystal her keys. Was it his imagination or did she pretend not to see him as she ducked into her car and drove away? His resolve to catch up with her hardened. It had been a decade. He wasn’t a boy anymore, too proud to admit he’d been hurt. It rankled that he still cared, but Crystal had some explaining to do. He glanced at the business card again, taking note of the hours of operation. She wanted to run? Fine. This time he was going to chase her.

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Chapter Two

Crystal sped away from the restaurant. Why hadn’t she put two and two together and inquired about the best man sometime in the last year of wedding planning? She still would have agreed to be Alisa’s maid of honor but it would have been nice to have some time to prepare for the shock of seeing Ryan again. She pressed a hand over her lips, not sure if she was stifling a laugh or a sob. The dull throb in her head had spread to her breasts and sex, an unavoidable side effect of touching him. Where did he get off beaming all those lust memories at her? Completely unfair. She parked in her driveway and grabbed her purse, hurrying out of the car. The street was silent. Most of her neighbors were elderly and had probably been in bed for hours. She unlocked her door and stepped inside, flicking on the light and tossing her keys and purse onto the hall table. She stooped to unzip first one boot, then the other, sighing as she stepped out of them. They were her favorite pair, but the four-inch heels were hell on her arches. Once her feet stopped hurting, the ache between her thighs became impossible to ignore. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. She locked her front door and went upstairs, popping the hooks on her corset on the way. She tossed it on her dresser and shucked her skirt and panties to the floor, stepping out of them. She flopped on her bed and reached over to open her bedside table, fumbling until she got her hand on what she needed—her SoloPlay Screamer.

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She settled back on her pillows and spread her legs, still clad in thigh-high black fishnet stockings. She turned the dial and rubbed the head of the vibrator against her wetness. The ache was unbearable. She thrust it deep inside her body. This was physical, a pure bodily response she couldn’t control. It wasn’t personal. She closed her legs around the shaft of the vibrator to hold it inside her, moving her ass in short, sharp thrusts that brought the stimulators into contact with her clit and anus. She brought her hands up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples until they were red and tender. The harder she pinched, the faster her hips moved. She reached between her thighs and grasped the base of the vibrator, moving it in and out of her body, chasing relief. She turned the dial higher and spread her legs farther apart, thrusting her hips toward the ceiling. Goddamn it, what was it going to take to make her come tonight? Unbidden, an image came to mind. Mahogany eyes, warm, like bittersweet chocolate… She screamed, riding the first orgasm to a second, longer series of contractions that left her gasping but still not satisfied. She reached between her thighs again and twisted the dial to its highest setting, pressing it deep inside her, making contact with all of her sensitive spots, holding her breath, tensing every muscle, desperate for release.

Crystal awoke to the sound of her alarm. She’d been dreaming of college, late for lecture but not knowing which building she was trying to find. The ringing of her alarm had been a school bell in her dream. She rolled over and slapped the snooze button. Eight hours had passed so she must have slept, but the night was a complete whitewash. Horrifying images had played through her mind, a continuous loop

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of action, reaction and consequences she was powerless to change. She dreaded seeing Ryan again today, and her mind had made movie trailers of worst-case scenarios all night. Just the press of his hand last night had sent her fleeing from the room. How on earth was she going to withstand an entire day and evening in his company? It was going to be doubly difficult to hold it together when she was bombarded with other random emotions all day. Standing at the front of the room was going to make her an excellent target for thoughts and feelings. Weddings and funerals were always hard to endure, but this one would be particularly rough because it was emotional for her too. There might be a few other girls in the room who had dated the groom, but she knew darn well she was the only one who had made love to the bride. She crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom to turn on the curling iron. No way to go but forward. By God, she had an hour to get ready, and by the time she got downtown, her appearance would be wedding-worthy and her shield would be bulletproof. She washed last night’s makeup off her face and braided her hair into a loose twist. Hallelujah, a good hair day. That was something, at least. A few curls here, a few curls there, and it was done. Out of deference to Alisa’s big day, she kept her makeup within normal limits, then packed up her cosmetic case. It took her longer to load the car than it did to get ready because she needed everything for the wedding, an afternoon with clients and the wedding reception that evening. Apparently, the prestigious Norton Club could only accommodate small parties, so Alisa and Mark had planned an intimate late-morning wedding at the Club and a big blowout reception at a larger country club later in the evening. She imagined Alisa and Mark would spend the afternoon in naked celebration of their vows, but she was going to work. Finally, everything was


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packed. She made a quick stop at Tim Hortons before she hit the highway and drank her coffee on the way. She pulled into the parking lot of the Norton Club with five minutes to spare. Seriously? The place had a parking lot attendant? She tried not to look wide-eyed as she approached the enormous front doors, lugging her makeup case, dress and shoes. The door swung open before she reached it and a uniformed man offered to carry her case. She gave him Alisa’s name and followed him into the fanciest elevator she had ever seen. They went up several floors. When the doors opened, he led her down the hall and knocked on a door. “Thank you,” she murmured as it swung open. He smiled and placed her case inside the door, heading back toward the elevator. “Thank God.” Alisa grabbed her hand and dragged her into the small bedroom. “I thought it was my mother.” Crystal shut the door behind them. “How are you holding up, sweetie?” Alisa’s china blue eyes filled with tears. “My parents are fighting.” Crystal felt the pull of her misery. “Of course they are. That’s what they do. Did you think they would behave because it’s your wedding day? Silly girl.” She put her arms around Alisa, fitting her snugly under her chin. “Relax. I’m here to make your life easier. Repeat after me: no wedding is perfect.” “What?” Alisa stiffened and pulled away from her. “Nope, it’s true. There are going to be hiccups and fuck-ups, and if you resolve not to let it bother you, then you can relax and enjoy the day. What’s the alternative? Letting your parents’ marital problems ruin your wedding? At the end of the night, you’ll be married to Mark. That’s all that matters. Just think about that.” Alisa smiled. She nodded once, then put her hands on Crystal’s shoulders and reached up to give her a warm kiss on the lips. There had been a time when

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that kiss would have held more heat, but those days were gone, ushered out by Crystal when she sensed Alisa was ready to find her Prince Charming. Being right about that kind of thing was hell on a girl’s love life. A swift knock sounded on the door. “I’ve got this.” Crystal opened it and saw Bonita, her boss, friend and all-around lifeline, looking elegant in a vintage sundress. Bonita swept into the room, carrying a six-pack of water and a large leather toy bag. “Good morning, ladies. How was the rehearsal dinner?” Alisa gave her a hug. “Amazing. It was fun to see so many people from so many different parts of my life together in the same room. Meeting Mark’s college friends was fascinating too.” Crystal hoped she wouldn’t mention anything about the best man, but she knew she would. She could feel it coming. Alisa crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “I like Ryan, Crystal. Anything you’d like to tell me about him?” A half-dozen things leapt to mind, but Crystal mashed them back into her repressed memory, where they belonged. Even that split second of thought made her pulse race. God, what was it about first love that made it so fucking vivid, so indelible, so impossible to forget? Alisa waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Earth to Crystal. Mark says you hooked up with his best friend at a frat party. How come you never told me you went to college together?” Crystal cleared her throat. “Ancient history. And we didn’t exactly go to college together. He was a senior and I was a freshman. I only ran into him a couple of times, and I was a different person back then. There’s a lot I would like to forget about those days, especially Ryan Anderson.” “Is that why you headed for the hills as soon as you saw him?” Alisa asked.


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“I was already heading for the hills,” Crystal reminded her. “I had a splitting headache.” Alisa sat at the vanity in front of a large mirror. “You know Ryan’s the reason we could have our wedding here at the Norton Club, right? It’s membersonly with very few exceptions, but Ryan’s great-great-grandfather was a charter member. Ryan is an absolute doll. Sure you don’t want to hear about what he’s been up to since college?” “I’d much rather get to work turning you into a princess bride.” Crystal ignored her pout and set her makeup case on the bed. “Bonita, you want to do her hair while I explore this incredibly high-class establishment, spreading peace and joy in my wake? The parental units have gone rogue.” Thankfully, Alisa let the subject drop. She was wrapped up in her own issues today, as she should be, as Crystal wanted her to be. Bonita nodded and began pulling hair-related items out of her bag, but interest sparkled in her green eyes, telling Crystal they would be discussing this topic later, even if Bonita had to dig the information out of her with her French-manicured nails or the jeweled clip in her perfect blond chignon. Crystal stood. “I’m off to do what I do best then—eavesdrop on emotions and tell people what they need to hear to be happy.” “Just like you are doing with me?” Alisa frowned in the mirror. Crystal leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Exactly, sweetie. I told you I’d always be your friend, rain, shine or dysfunctional family. Because I love you.” “I love you too.” Alisa sniffed. Before Alisa could get truly weepy, Crystal teased, “Not half as much as you are going to love me when you get your wedding present. I sent it to your hotel in Hawaii. I think you’ll find it very stimulating. Mark hasn’t come up with

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anything quite this crazy yet, but I’m sure he’ll hit the drawing board when you get back home. Feel free to send naked pictures with the thank-you note.” “Pervert.” Bonita pointed at the door. “Out.” “Gimme a break, Bonita. You think we don’t know that leather bag is designed to hold dildos and butt plugs, not curling irons and hairspray?” Crystal rolled her eyes. Her boss shrugged. “Function over form. Pockets are pockets.” “Such a practical soul.” Crystal winked at Alisa. “I’ll be back in an hour to do your makeup. Any idea where your parents might have gone?” “Find the bar,” Alisa suggested. Crystal nodded. “An excellent idea.”

Ryan stopped in front of Come Again to read the sign on the door. The store would only be open in the early morning and late afternoon today. Were all the store employees going to the wedding too? With such limited hours, he wondered why the shop was open at all, but that question was answered when he walked inside. Sex sells. There were several shoppers already. He nodded at the salesgirl, a petite brunette with dreadlocks, before he browsed toward the back. He had to be at the Norton Club in an hour, but it was just around the corner. Since he had showered at his hotel and his tux was in the rental car, he had plenty of time to check out a porn shop, but this was not what he had expected. There was none of the usual crap he associated with adult novelty stores—no tacky cards, no buttons, no pornographic candies. The first aisle he passed held at least a hundred different brands of lube and every battery under the sun. The next aisle was full of books and magazines. He paused to flip through the pages of one particularly eye-catching pictorial, tempted to sink into


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one of the cushy reading chairs to check out the accompanying article, but time was ticking. Reluctantly, he tucked the magazine back into place on the rack, making a mental note to buy some feathers. A black leather sex swing caught his eye as he scanned the store for some sign of Crystal’s business, Get In Touch. He recognized the swing as a DoublePlay product, as were the inclined cushions and foam wedges scattered on the floor at his feet, and he was glad. Investing in Mark’s company, SoloPlay Enterprises, had been one of the best business decisions he’d ever made. He continued to the back of the store and found a wall covered with vibrators and dildos. Some toys were true to life—at least if you had a cock like a bull—while others ranged through every color of the rainbow. He searched the wall for SoloPlay and DoublePlay devices and discovered Come Again carried the entire line of products. No wonder Crystal was Alisa’s maid of honor. They’d probably bonded over batteries, God bless them. The girl at the front counter looked like his best bet. From their conversation last night, he had assumed Crystal wouldn’t be at work this morning, but he was counting on her being here this afternoon. He paused at the condom rack, figuring he had to buy something before he could pump the cashier for information. Thanks to his Christmas basket from SoloPlay Enterprises, he was all set for sex toys, but a guy could always use more rubbers. He stared at the rack in front of the register, confounded by the selection. He knew the world held more than Trojans, but he’d never seen studded condoms. He picked up a box and read the back. Super-sensitizing gel, both inside and outside the condom? Seemed like overkill. He picked up two more boxes and compared the merits of a contoured fit versus a light bulb shape. Hmm. He pictured his erection. Did he need extra head room? “Can I help you pick something out?”

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The counter girl was grinning at him. He held up the boxes. “I don’t think you have the answer I need.” She laughed and reached over the counter to pull a pack off the rack. “This is our best seller.” He replaced the two brands he’d been holding and took the package from her. “Are Japanese condoms as reliable as Japanese cars?” “Super-thin, super-strong, as close to bareback—” “Sold.” He tossed the condoms on the counter and watched her ring them up, wondering if her gray suit was work-wear or wedding-wear, but not wanting to ask. Instead, he dug a twenty and the pink business card out of his pocket. After she made his change, he asked, “Is Crystal LaRusso working today? I’d like to make an appointment.” She nodded. “She’s working, but she’s booked solid. How about Tuesday?” He’d be back on a plane to California Tuesday. “Tuesday will be too late,” he said, putting sadness and a little desperation in his voice. “Is there any way I can see her today? I don’t have that many options.” He didn’t dare look her in the eye. Would the restless line of customers forming behind him sway her? He heard her sigh. “She’s not going to be happy about it, but I’ll book you for a half hour at four-thirty. Make sure you tell her you begged.” “Thank you.” He didn’t have to feign appreciation when he smiled and gave her a fake name. She scrawled it down in an appointment book, then looked up at him with a frown. He met her gaze with as much innocence as he could muster, afraid his sense of humor had blown his cover. “No relation,” he said. A customer behind him cleared her throat with unmistakable impatience, so Ryan gave them both a polite nod, picked up his purchase and made a slow


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beeline for the door. He was looking forward to surprising Crystal. After all these years, she deserved a taste of her own medicine.

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Chapter Three

Crystal stepped back and surveyed her handiwork. Alisa’s makeup was understated yet emphasized all of her best features. Her blue eyes looked enormous, thanks to volumizing mascara and some creatively applied shadows. A bit of bronzer on her cheeks played up her natural glow and the sparkle of pink gloss highlighted her happy smile. Crystal had found Alisa’s parents arguing over spiked coffee in the salon earlier. She had introduced herself and immediately sensed they felt useless. Mark and Alisa had handled all of the wedding details, and there was nothing for them to do except sit around feeling intimidated by the extreme wealth surrounding them. Although she had been tempted to find a copy of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and pop it into the DVD player to show them what true misery was like, she put them to work instead. She had brought Mrs. Mane up to Alisa’s room to make sure the bride had something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue, and she had turned Mr. Mane over to Mark to do whatever guys did before weddings. She was grateful that Ryan hadn’t arrived yet, so she could hang onto her serenity and get on with her job. Mark’s emotions were steady and filled with joy and anticipation as he welcomed Mr. Mane into his room. Crystal had never liked him more than she had in that moment. “How’s Alisa?” he had asked.

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“She was freaking out because her parents were fighting, but she’s got her eye on the prize now. That’s you, so be a good little prize and keep Daddy occupied, hmm?” Mission accomplished, she’d done a quick sweep of the club to check in with the wedding coordinator, look at the flowers and grab another cup of coffee before returning to do Alisa’s makeup. While she had been gone, Bonita had created a dramatic updo with tendrils curling around Alisa’s face. Diamonds glittered in her hair, making her look regal and youthful at the same time. “It’s time to get dressed. Are you ready?” Crystal asked. Alisa nodded, smiling at herself in the mirror. God, she was beautiful. Crystal’s heart squeezed in her chest. She put her hands on her friend’s shoulders and caught her eyes in the mirror. “You look breathtaking,” she whispered as emotion flowed between them in a poignant stream. Alisa’s fingers touched hers, sharing her joy. Mrs. Mane dithered in the background, but it was a good kind of dithering. “Something old—she’s wearing her great-grandmother’s diamond earrings. Something new is always easy—the dress. She’s wearing my pearls, so she has something borrowed, but what about blue? Honey, do you have something blue?” “My eyes?” Alisa suggested. “Doesn’t count,” Crystal said. “But I’ve got you covered.” She retrieved a signature pink bag from the corner. She handed it to Alisa. “Open it.” Alisa pulled pink tissue paper out of the way and giggled. She pulled out an ice-blue bra and panty ensemble that was light enough not to show through her dress but blue enough to fulfill the rhyme. “It’s perfect!” “To match your eyes,” Crystal said softly. Alisa’s smile was tender. “Thank you.”

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Crystal clapped her hands, dispelling the emotion in the air. “All right, Mrs. Mane, you’re on. Can you get our girl dressed while Bonita and I finish getting ready?” Bonita shook her head. “I’m all set.” Of course she was—Bonita never had a hair out of place and lived in perfect makeup. Well, Crystal might be slightly more challenged in that regard, but she made up for it in speed as she slid into Alisa’s spot at the mirror and touched up her makeup. Ten minutes later, she and Alisa stood side by side, looking into the mirror. “My work is done.” Alisa’s mom kissed her cheek. “I’m going to go check on your cousins.” The young bridesmaids had arrived in a flurry of nervousness and had been sent into the gallery to watch the crowd. Crystal tugged at her neckline. Her black dress was knee-length and she was wearing a conservative amount of makeup, but she was showing way too much cleavage for a morning wedding. Would Alisa mind? “What did you do to that dress?” Alisa asked. She was frowning too. “Nothing,” Crystal said, feeling guilty anyway. Alisa stepped behind her and pulled the dress down to bare Crystal’s tattoo, then tightened the back of the corset until Crystal’s boobs looked twice as big as they had a second ago. “Whoa, hey. What on earth are you doing?” Crystal gasped. Alisa rolled her eyes. “You don’t buy Gaultier and wear it like Laura Ashley, for God’s sake. It’s supposed to look like this.” “For a wedding?” “Don’t argue with the bride.” Alisa leaned to whisper, “I’d never ask you to change for me, Crystal. I love your style. Now you’ve got five minutes to fix your


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makeup. I don’t want a pale imitation of my best friend standing beside me today, got it?” Gratitude, warm and overwhelming, made her voice husky as she said, “Got it.”

Crystal took a long, slow belly breath to calm her jumping nerves. It was showtime. Time to show Ryan a strong front, impenetrable, confident, unaffected…which could only happen if she left the room. Bonita had taken Alisa down for pictures five minutes ago. Since then, she’d been sitting on the bed with her eyes shut, trying to find balance. It wasn’t working. Every time she tried to go downstairs to join the wedding party, she thought about Ryan and a tidal wave of emotion knocked her sideways. She couldn’t dam her emotions. Like water, they kept slipping through the cracks in her shield. Usually she spent her energy shielding herself from the emotions of others. It had been a long time since her own feelings had caused so much trouble. Maybe it was better to take a Zen approach—acknowledge the feelings and let them flow away. She opened her eyes, but she no longer saw the luxurious room around her. She saw a frat house bedroom, walls covered with movie posters. She heard the sounds of a party, smelled Ryan’s cologne and tasted tequila on his breath. She felt an incredible, powerful connection. Breath rushed out of her lungs as she abandoned herself to the memory. Mahogany eyes, warm, like bittersweet chocolate, gazing at her with infinite tenderness. He slid inside her walls with the reverence of one receiving a benediction, and the boundaries of her mind expanded, exploded, changed forever. She gasped, trembling. She had instantly fallen in love.

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Alone. That night with Ryan had been a life-changing experience for her, but just another hookup for him—and that was okay. It was okay to be young, dumb and innocent. She had forgiven herself for that, but it was impossible to forget the man who had somehow turned her into a walking emotional minefield, and it was damn near impossible to pretend she had never cared about him. The door opened, startling her out of the past. Bonita poked her head into the room. “Hey, what’s the holdup? They need you for the group shots.” “Nothing.” Crystal stood. She looked in the mirror to make sure her armor was in place, but even though she looked as exotically outrageous as ever, she still felt exposed. “Crystal? What can I do to help?” Bonita asked gently. Relief rushed through her as she remembered she didn’t have to handle this alone anymore. Thank God for friends. “Will you be my date for the reception tonight? You aren’t bringing anyone else, right?” “Why do you need a date?” Bonita asked. “I don’t have time to explain.” “Later then.” It wasn’t a question. “I will. I promise I’ll explain everything, but right now I’m not going to be able to function during the next hour without knowing someone is going to hold my hand tonight. Please? I don’t want to lead any of my girlfriends on by inviting them to a wedding, but I need an extra layer of protection tonight.” Bonita cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting word choice. Does that make me your social condom?” She held out her hand. “I’ll be your date tonight, but you really need to get downstairs before the photographer has a conniption.” Crystal took her hand, grateful as always that Bonita kept her emotions to herself. It was one of the reasons they had become such good friends. Ever since


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she had arrived at the door of Come Again a shattered, horny, freaked-out teenager, Bonita had given her support and space, an invaluable combination. When they reached the lobby where the photographer had set up near an enormous fireplace, Bonita gave her a long, steadying look. “You good to go?” Crystal nodded. “I’ll be fine.” She looked for Ryan and found him talking to Mark’s parents. Her heart jolted, then settled. The long ride in the ancient elevator had given her time to focus on the present. She wasn’t alone and she wasn’t eighteen anymore. She watched Bonita disappear into the ballroom. The photographer motioned to her and she joined the bridal party. The wedding planner rushed over with her bouquet. Joy was contagious, especially for her, so it was easier than she had expected to smile. At one point, she felt Ryan brush against her and a wave of desire tore through her just as the camera flashed. The photographer insisted on re-doing the shot, and she assumed it was her fault. Since Alisa preferred candid shots, the formal pictures only took a few minutes. The wedding party filed down the hall. So far, so good. She felt Ryan moving into place just ahead of her. Her pulse sped and her hands shook, so she took extra time adjusting Alisa’s train and veil. When Alisa looked perfect, Crystal stepped into place in front of her. Ryan was watching. “You look beautiful,” he whispered. “Thank you.” She gave him a faint smile, avoiding his eyes. “You look very handsome yourself.” His tux fit him perfectly and he wore it with ease. She focused on the stephanotis pinned to his lapel. The wedding planner reminded everyone to go slow and keep their flowers low before she opened the ballroom door. Music filled the hall. Mark began to

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walk forward, flanked by both of his parents. Crystal glanced behind her to enjoy the excitement on Alisa’s face. When she turned back around, Ryan held out his arm. She straightened her spine and took a deep breath, pulling her emotions inward, locking them down. For the next hour she needed to make like a turtle pulling into its shell. The hall full of seated wedding guests felt like a living, breathing entity, and she had to walk into its heart. This was a small wedding? How many people were going to be at the reception tonight? The line moved forward. Ryan was waiting. She exhaled, slowly, keeping an iron grip on herself. Even so, taking his arm shot lightning to her core. Suddenly, she wasn’t worried about the guests. Withdrawing into her shell wasn’t going to help if the man beside her set her on fire from the inside out.

As Ryan held Crystal’s arm and waited for their turn to walk down the aisle, he marveled at her calm. Her self-possession made him want to shake her up a little, go searching for the laughing, carefree girl he’d met ten years ago. She was there; she had to be. People didn’t change that much. Mark reached the front of the ballroom and Ryan watched the next pair begin walking. The bridesmaids were dressed in black, but their conservative dresses were different from Crystal’s elaborate gown. Crystal had been pretty at eighteen, but now she was stunning and the dress showcased her mature curves. He’d never forgotten her perfect breasts—full, round and heavy, a revelation he hadn’t had the sense or experience to appreciate at twenty-two. Her hair was piled on top of her head in elegant loops and twists, tempting him to sink his fingers into the inky mass and pull it down across her shoulders. Her tattoo tantalized him, a bright splash of color. His heart sank.


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He’d buried his desire for her, but it was still there. Crystal, the selfproclaimed sex psychic, was nothing like the sweet Crissy in his memory, but he found her even more fascinating. She stood out from the crowd like an exotic flower, yet she seemed perfectly comfortable. The women in his life dressed appropriately for every occasion, with every outfit and accessory deliberately designed to match, complement and blend in to the crowd. Crystal dressed to attract attention. Was that why he couldn’t keep his eyes off her? Or was it the fact she was ignoring him? He wasn’t used to getting the cold shoulder from women. In fact, he was used to having his pick of the room. He suspected his dates admired his stock portfolio more than his good looks and charm but that didn’t bother him. After all, he enjoyed making money more than he enjoyed dating. He knew he worked too much, but he had a gift for finding fledgling enterprises that only needed an infusion of cash to reach astronomical success. Initially, he’d used the money in his trust fund to finance his adventures, but it had been years since he’d had to touch any of his own capital. He was rich from interest now, with two houses in California, one in the mountains and one on the coast. He knew he was considered a catch, but he had no desire to settle down. He dated to satisfy the demands of his social station and his body, but he had never felt the urge to pursue a particular woman, not when his lust for the chase was satisfied with work. Life was better lived when the only risks he took involved money, but it wasn’t money that had awakened him in a rock-hard sweat last night. It wasn’t work that had sent him reeling to the sink for a glass of water to rinse the taste of innocence from his tongue. It was Crystal, this Crystal, the one he couldn’t keep his eyes off of, the one who acted like she couldn’t see him. Pure, raw lust rocked through him.

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Crystal suddenly stumbled atop her high heels and he steadied her by pulling her tight into his side. The softness of her body struck a chord of memory deep inside him. The faint smell of musk rose from her skin, and he breathed it in. She smelled warm, like good leather and mink coats, and he pressed closer. “You’re next,” the wedding planner warned them.

At the signal, Crystal stepped forward and concentrated on taking slow steps. The emotional pulse of the room kept her off balance. She clung to Ryan’s arm, a pure case of the devil you know. His thrust of desire had nearly blown her off her feet a few moments ago. Jesus, the man had no restraint whatsoever. You used to like that about him. She stopped that line of thought immediately and focused on shutting everything out of her head. It was easier than she had thought. Ryan was paying attention to the crowd now, nodding hello to someone every few feet and smiling broadly. Right, smile. She forced her stiff lips to curve. She could do this. They reached the front of the room and separated, taking their positions facing the crowd. The orchestra burst into the wedding march and Crystal didn’t have to fake her smile anymore. Mark was gazing up the aisle and she knew the minute Alisa appeared by the beatific grin that spread over his face. Alisa beamed at him from the back of the church, floating toward him in her sparkling fairytale princess gown, flanked by her parents who actually looked happy now. Her father kissed her cheek and put her hand in Mark’s. Crystal sighed, enjoying Alisa and Mark’s pure, uncomplicated joy. She might make her living from the physical side of love, the nitty-gritty aspect of the spiritual union, but she was a total sucker for romance. She closed her eyes to listen to Alisa’s clear


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voice recite her vows, waiting for her favorite part of the ceremony. She held her breath. It was coming. Alisa lifted her chin. “With this ring, I thee wed.” Tears stung Crystal’s eyes. So beautiful. Powerful. A promise of forever. Mark’s resolute baritone rang through the quiet room as he repeated his vows and Crystal felt a tear slip down her cheek. They kissed, then turned their dazed, shining faces to the crowd. Cheers and applause crashed through the room, knocking her back to reality. She dashed the tears from her cheeks and squared her shoulders, moving slowly to walk back up the aisle with Ryan. She took his arm and found herself enjoying a mellow buzz of good cheer before she realized she was channeling his surface emotions. She pulled away from him. He held her tighter, lowering his arm to clasp her waist. “If my guess is right, you’re about to run away from me again.” His voice held a low chuckle. Since his arm felt like a steel band, she didn’t struggle. “Am I wrong?” he asked. “Empaths don’t do well in receiving lines,” she admitted. “I’ll hold your hand,” he offered. “Yeah, like that would help,” she grumbled under her breath. His desire blasted through her. Acknowledging the charged atmosphere between them had been a mistake. Give the man an inch…and his hand caressed her hip, brushed the top of her thigh. Her nipples hardened and her sex began to tingle, even though two hundred people were watching them walk up the aisle.

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Panic welled deep inside her, in places she didn’t go anymore. She had to get away from him. They reached the hallway and she flung his arm away from her waist, panting. The wide-open door of the club beckoned. Freedom. Safety. Sanity. Ryan caught her arm. “Don’t touch me!” The words were out of her mouth before she could censor them. He let her go and she felt his concern, a warm blanket around her shoulders. She stopped at the door and closed her eyes for a moment. Freedom was appealing but she needed her purse. She wasn’t going to get far without her car keys. She pulled her shoulders back and stood straight, closing out the world, the room and everyone in it, including Ryan, until she felt cold but strong again. She opened her eyes and met his gaze for the first time today. “Is it really that hard for you?” he asked. She gave him a tight smile. “You have no idea.” She watched Alisa, swept into place by the wedding planner as the receiving line began to form, and shuddered, deciding to find a nice side door into the parking lot. “I suppose I’ll see you later.” “Definitely.” She hoped she looked steadier than she felt as she beat a hasty retreat to the elevator. Thank God Bonita had agreed to be her date tonight, so she wouldn’t have to face him alone. The thought gave her comfort as she collected her belongings and found a side staircase. At the bottom of the stairs, sunlight beamed through the plate-glass exit doors. Salvation. Her high heels clicked as she walked through the quiet parking lot. At the top of the hill, near the doors of the club, she could hear laughter as the first few wedding guests made it through the receiving line and began to make their way toward their cars. She hurried to beat the crowd out of the parking lot, eager to reach the safety of Come Again and a normal afternoon with clients.


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Ryan glanced at his watch. He’d been standing in the receiving line for at least thirty minutes and he was still sweating because the first woman to shake his hand had been the cashier from the sex shop this morning. She had recognized him immediately, and he’d had to talk fast to convince her to keep his afternoon appointment with Crystal a secret. She had made him grovel. He wasn’t sure how the hell she had done it, exactly. There was just something about her that told him he wasn’t going to get what he wanted by pushing. Instead, he had begged, much to the amusement of her hulking, tattooed boyfriend. There had been a small pileup in the line before she had agreed to stay quiet, reminding him they would see each other again at the reception tonight. It wasn’t a threat, but he had felt warned nonetheless. Her date had said nothing, but his narrow-eyed scrutiny made it clear he was more than willing to back her up in any way she required. Neither one of them needed to worry. He wasn’t going to hurt Crystal. He just wanted to talk to her, ask her the questions he’d wanted to ask ten years ago. See if he could get some closure. As he automatically smiled, shook hands and greeted wedding guests, he realized he was full of shit—he wanted more than answers from Crystal. He wanted her, had never stopped wanting her, and in spite of the fact she’d blown him off last night and all but ignored him today, he didn’t think she was indifferent to him. It hadn’t been dislike or annoyance in her eyes when she asked him not to touch her—it had been fear. He could understand why she might feel regret or even guilt about what had happened ten years ago, but he’d never given her any reason to fear him. He checked his watch again. Four-thirty couldn’t come soon enough.

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Chapter Four

Crystal unlocked the back door of Come Again and ducked into her office to change. She pulled her work clothes out of their bag and slid into her black spandex stretch mini, black satin-and-leather demi-bustier, black garters, fishnet stockings and four-inch stilettos. She buckled a silver belt made of interlocking spikes around her waist and shrugged into her comfortable black cashmere cardigan. This outfit projected just the right amount of badass sex guru enhanced with the confidence born of a really well-broken-in sweater. As she dressed, she thought about all the ways she had recreated herself after her gift had manifested itself. Her name had been the first thing to change. She had left Crissy behind with her shame and her fear and embraced Crystal instead. She chose to date women, not men. She wore black leather and dramatic makeup as a uniform, an outward sign of the confident woman she had become. She was no longer at the mercy of the emotions around her. Ryan might be in Norton, but seeing him did not catapult her into the past. She was in control. She was not in danger. She just had to get through tonight and he would be gone. Again. The thought caused a pang. Uh-oh. She dug in her purse for the darkest lipstick she owned and outlined her lips. She would not allow emotions to control her actions. Not anymore.

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She heard the bell on the front door tinkle, so she walked out of her office and through the short hallway. She poked her head into the store. “Hey, Destiny, just wanted to make sure that was you.” “In all my glory.” Destiny’s dreadlocks were swirled into a bun and she was wearing a fiercely tailored gray pinstriped business suit. “Great wedding, huh?” “Perfection. Where were you sitting? I didn’t see you.” Destiny ducked to turn on the computer. “In the back so I could get in and out. The store was crazy busy this morning.” The bell on the door tinkled again and a small, bird-like woman peered into the shop. Crystal waved. “Looks like my two o’clock is early. Send her back when she’s done with the paperwork, okay?” Destiny rose to greet the client and Crystal headed back to her office to tidy up. A few minutes later, she heard a scratch at her door. She opened it and ushered her new client into the room. She waited until Darla was comfortably seated on the red velvet couch. “I’m glad you’re here, Darla. I’m Crystal. You’ve read the disclaimer and you’ve signed the waiver?” Darla bobbed her head. Crystal reached for the box of chocolates on her desk. “I’ll have to warn you that I’m not really very businesslike otherwise. Would you like a chocolate?” Crystal felt she would. “No, thanks.” Darla leaned away from the box of truffles. Crystal held it out to her. “Darla, your time is really valuable to me. Take a truffle. No, take two, and then let’s get started.” Darla took a truffle. Then another one. Her eyes stopped darting to the corners of the office and settled, owl-like, on Crystal as she joined her on the couch.

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Crystal shut the box and placed it on the couch between them. She smiled in approval and leaned over to give Darla’s hand a lingering pat. She felt hunger, but not the food kind. Denial. Courage. Good. Courage she could work with. Crystal followed the hunger, figuring it had to be the dominant emotion, right down to its base. She opened herself to Darla’s feelings, widened her perceptions until the boundary between them wavered, blurred. First she would feel with Darla, and then she would know how to help her. Almost there. Just a little more, just a little further, and she would know. She dropped her mental shield completely. Lust ripped through her, immobilized her. It was the same blast that had hit her when she was standing next to Ryan before the wedding, only stronger. She was blind, uncertain whose passion she was channeling, Darla’s or her own. She snatched her hand away from Darla’s fingers and cleared her mind. Crystal wanted to physically shake off the lust that gripped her, but she was afraid to move. That blast had her so revved up she was afraid she might have an orgasm if she even crossed her legs. That would be really hard to explain to her new client. “Darla, I’m sorry but we’re going to have to reschedule.” Crystal forced the words out. Darla’s already tight expression became even more pinched as she frowned. “I knew this was a mistake.” She stood and glared at Crystal. “I don’t know why I thought a sex psychic could possibly be for real.” Without reaching out to touch her emotions, Crystal couldn’t be sure, but she guessed the source of Darla’s anger was disappointment and frustration. “I don’t blame you for being angry, Darla, but please don’t give up. I know I can help


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you, but my emotions aren’t cooperating right now.” An understatement but accurate, since arousal still paralyzed her. Darla didn’t look convinced, so Crystal tried again. “I won’t charge you for today’s session. Since we’ve spoken several times on the phone, I think I have a good idea of what is going on with you and your fiancé. I’d like you to try something simple for me. Next week we can dig a little deeper, I promise.” Next week, Ryan would be gone and she’d have control of her emotions again. Meanwhile, she was determined to do something to help her new client. Crystal patted the spot next to her and was relieved when Darla edged back toward the couch and sat on the farthest cushion, still looking skeptical. Crystal reached into the box of chocolates and popped a truffle into her mouth. She was ridiculously glad when her client did the same. “You love him?” Darla nodded. “You sure you want to marry him?” She nodded again. “Okay, then, focus on that while I get something that should ease your penetration anxiety,” Crystal said firmly. Darla choked on her chocolate. “Wait here.” Crystal mentally crossed her fingers and stood. She took a careful step away from the couch. When she didn’t fall into Darla’s lap, convulsing in orgasm, she felt confident enough to stride out of the room, belt clanking. She returned with a tube of lubricant and a bright purple vibrator that looked like a cross between a space ship and the letter Y. “Okay, this is an expensive device, but worth every penny.” She showed her the price tag. Darla raised an eyebrow but nodded, so Crystal crossed to the small sink in the corner and soaped up the vibe. She took her time rinsing it, then dried it with a paper

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towel. When she sat back down next to Darla, she tested the batteries. The vibrator buzzed to life. Darla jumped, causing the box of chocolates to slide to the floor. Crystal tossed the box onto the coffee table and pressed the purple device into Darla’s hand. “I know it looks strange, but all the girls love this one. It’s very popular.” When Crystal told her what to do with the vibrator, Darla paled. Sweat beaded her upper lip as Crystal explained the complicated control panel. It was impossible not to sense her anxiety. Crystal had thought this would help, but there was no way to be certain without opening herself up to her client’s emotions again. Since she couldn’t afford to do that; she’d have to hope for the best. “Now, I’m going to lock the door behind me. I have the only key, but don’t worry, it also unlocks from the inside. Don’t worry about the noise, either—that’s why I’ve got all that fabric on the walls.” Crystal pressed the tube of lubricant into Darla’s free hand and tossed a clean blanket over the chaise lounge. “Meet me at the front counter in half an hour?” Darla’s nod was stiff. “It’s gonna be great, Darla. You’ll see.” When Crystal reached the door she looked back. Darla sat, frozen on the couch, both hands full, knees pressed tightly together. Was she leading her client down the wrong path? Normally she would have gone deeper and stayed longer to make sure she understood the source of Darla’s anxiety, but she really couldn’t risk losing control again. She shut the door, making sure it locked behind her. She paused at the desk to write up the bill for Darla’s new vibrator, giving her a hefty discount. “I’m going to the coffee shop,” she said, leaving the invoice on the counter. “I’ll be back to cash her out, but would you mind cancelling the rest of my clients today?”


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“Sure.” Destiny opened the appointment book and grimaced. “Uh-oh…I booked you a consult with a new client this morning and I didn’t get his number.” Crystal groaned. “What?” “Sorry. He looked desperate, and there was a huge line. You would have said yes too.” Yesterday, she would have said yes. But not today. “Fine,” she sighed. Not showing up would be bad for business. “What time?” “Four-thirty.” Crystal nodded and walked out of the store, trying not to be mad at Destiny, who was only trying to help her grow her business. She hurried down the street to the coffee shop and ordered the panini special and a hot mocha, hoping her lapse of control with Darla was caused by low blood sugar, but she knew that was wishful thinking. Panic welled up inside her and she clutched the counter. She hadn’t felt this out-of-control terrified since college. Don’t think about it. Clearing her mind helped, but it took her several endless minutes to calm her racing heart. She took her sandwich to a table and sat. This emotional insanity was temporary. Ryan was only here for the wedding. He’d leave, and she would be fine. She ate quickly, and by the time she was finished, she had locked her own emotions inside and erected a tight block against everything outside. Nothing was getting out or coming in and she felt optimistic about the rest of her day. A half-hour consult with a new client was mostly paperwork, and Bonita would be with her tonight. She grabbed her coffee and headed back to the shop. When she reached Come Again, Darla was already handing Destiny a signed credit card slip. Crystal hoped her flushed cheeks and bright eyes were signs of

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satisfaction. “Everything go okay?” Crystal asked, drawing her away from the front counter and out of range of Destiny’s excellent hearing. Darla clutched her bag. “Well enough, I suppose. I don’t really have a frame of reference.” “I’m sorry,” Crystal said quietly, following her to the door. “This isn’t how I wanted your first session to go. It won’t happen again, I promise. I hope you’ll give me another chance. I really do want to help you, Darla.” Crystal could read nothing in her opaque gaze. “Call me next week? To let me know how things are going?” Crystal asked. She held her breath as she waited for Darla’s answer. “Maybe.” The word felt like a blow and Crystal stood at the door, taking deep breaths and watching Darla walk down the street until the pain eased. When she could move again, she walked back through the store and picked up her coffee, downing the lukewarm, super-sweet beverage in one long gulp. Destiny jumped off the barstool behind the counter. “Bonita called and said she’d meet you here at five. Hey, I don’t suppose you’d consider closing the store for me, since you have to stay anyway?” She gave Crystal a beseeching look, half starving puppy, half Hell’s Angel. “Johnny’s waiting for me at Downtown.” Crystal licked whipped cream off her lips, restored enough by the sugar rush to tease her friend. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? Master Johnny Delcorral is notoriously impatient. Don’t worry about poor little me, trapped in the store all alone, waiting for that desperate client you scheduled.” “Panic button is under the counter,” Destiny drawled, grabbing her motorcycle bag. “You are brutal, my friend, just brutal. Any chance he’ll get cold feet and not show up?”


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“Don’t count on it.” Even through her shield, Crystal caught a sharp flash of emotion. “You’re feeling reckless, kiddo,” she warned. “Be careful today.” Destiny laughed. “Blame it on my mama. She named me. What is destiny, if not dangerous? See you later!” She flew out the door.

Ryan changed out of his tux and killed the afternoon by exploring downtown Norton. It was an intriguing area with unique restaurants, art galleries and specialty shops. Western New York seemed full of places like this— quirky, historic and full of growth potential. No wonder Mark liked it here. The late-afternoon sun gilded the top of a building across the street and he squinted against the glare. As he moved down the block, he caught sight of a tree growing out of a turret, then saw gargoyles guarding the eaves of the same building. The mix of old school architecture and bright-shiny new buildings worked for him. He’d love to see demographics on the area. Who lived in the downtown area, the suburbs? Where did they shop? What did they buy? He wandered into the library and was tempted to find the business section and do some quick and dirty research on the area, but he only had a half hour to kill. Maybe he should spend it relaxing instead of working. He spotted a sign for new fiction and walked over to scan the shelf. A graphic novel immediately caught his eye and he settled into a leather chair, keeping a close watch on the time. As it approached four o’clock, he put the book back on the shelf and headed outside. He turned onto the street where Come Again was located and spotted a coffee shop on the corner. Was Crystal an espresso shot kind of girl or a sweet

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and frothy syrup shot girl? Since he’d never known a woman to turn down chocolate, he ordered her a mocha, loaded, and got a cappuccino for himself. The walls of the shop were painted an energizing shade of deep green and adorned with paintings by local artists. He recognized the gargoyle building, done in watercolor. There were several groupings of comfortable-looking leather armchairs and sleek coffee tables in the center of the room. Tables with leatherpadded chairs lined the walls. Music played softly in the background. It was an ideal spot to work, meet with a friend or relax with a beverage, so why was the place completely empty except for him and the barista? “Sir? Your drinks are ready.” “Thanks,” he said, approaching the counter again. “This is my first time downtown and I really like this shop. Can I assume you get some business at other times of day?” The library had been pretty empty too. He would have expected both places to be streaming with people on a Saturday afternoon. She snorted. “You can’t assume anything about Norton. We do a pretty good lunch business, but it’s hit or miss the rest of the time. I’ve tried everything—ads, deals, special menus—but I just can’t figure it out.” He looked at the baked goods in the case. They looked homemade, not like cookie-cutter versions of the same scones, cookies and air-aged slices of cake he usually saw in coffee shops. “Are you the owner?” he asked. She nodded, looking mournfully at the empty tables. “The owner, the baker, the barista and sometimes the cashier—you name it.” “The cookies look delicious. What are those?” He pointed into the case. “Chocolate Mudslides—full of raisins and walnuts.” “Is there such a thing as too much chocolate?” He gestured at the mocha. “Nope.” “Then I’ll take two.”


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She grinned. “On the house. Looks like I’ll be dropping them off at the Norton Mission on my way home tonight, anyway.” “I insist on paying.” He handed her a twenty, resisting the urge to give her his business card. He didn’t want her to think he was hitting on her and he wasn’t going to be in town long enough to help her grow her business anyway. “Keep the change,” he said, accepting the bag of cookies. Her chuckle was wry. “Thanks. Have a good afternoon.” He tucked the bag under his arm and picked up the coffees. As he backed out the door, he took one more glance around the shop, making mental notes, before he turned his mind to the challenge ahead of him. Business was easy—do the research and don’t run out of money—but Crystal was a mystery to him, a mystery he wanted to solve. The door to Come Again opened just as he reached it and a pink-cheeked redhead stepped outside and held the door for him. “Thanks,” he said, glad to be spared the awkwardness of trying to open the door while holding two hot coffees and a bag of goodies. He spotted Crystal behind the counter. “Be right with you,” she called. Her back was turned as she reached to hang a pair of fur-lined handcuffs on the wall behind her. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was wearing, but it was black and made out of leather and something shiny. There were an ungodly number of hooks and laces across the back. It reminded him of a Chinese puzzle box he’d had as a kid. It had kept him busy for hours unhooking latches and bolts to get inside. When he had discovered the trick, it had been fiendishly simple. One button and the lid had popped open like magic. He wondered if Crystal’s complicated getup had a simple catch too. Maybe a hidden zipper?

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She turned around and her welcoming smile disappeared. The heavy black lines around her eyes made them look huge and deep, and her lipstick was so dark it looked like it had been applied with a black Sharpie marker. It should have looked garish, but it suited her. She crossed her arms and the movement plumped her breasts above the neckline of her top. What the hell is that thing? How does it stay up? How does it come off? He itched to get his hands on the closures. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Bringing you coffee.” As he set her mocha on the counter, he saw an empty cup with chocolate residue on the bottom. “But I see you’ve had your fix today. My instincts were right on, but I guess I’m a little late.” “I’d say that about covers our situation.” She slid onto the stool behind the counter and crossed her legs. The band of smooth white skin between the top of her fishnet stocking and her miniscule skirt made him dizzy. He swallowed hard, forcing his eyes back to her face. “What’s with all the black and leather? I don’t remember you as a goth girl.” She smiled, tilting her head back to gaze at him through half-shut eyes. The long line of her neck made his mouth water. “People change, Ryan.” The way she said his name sang through him. “I’m more comfortable this way. It fits the whole psychic image, and frees me up to do what I do best.” “What do you do best?” he asked, even though he already knew—make love like an angel, haunt a man’s dreams, set the standard so high that no other woman would ever measure up. She shrugged. “I help people. I know what my clients want, what they need. I give them the good advice they would give themselves, if they only knew what to say.” “How do you do it? I don’t remember you being psychic.”


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She laughed. “We spent one night together, Ryan. I didn’t tell you all my secrets. Did you tell me all yours?” Her voice held no more than mild curiosity, but something about her blasé attitude didn’t ring true. Maybe it was the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead and upper lip. The tightness in her jaw. The way her heel twitched against the leg of the stool. He leaned on the counter. “You tell me.” They were eye to eye, her sitting on the stool, him leaning forward. “Even if I did, I have more secrets now. Better secrets. Want to try to guess them?” She shook her head. “I can’t read minds. Only emotions.” She could read his emotions? Did she know he wanted to walk around the counter and stand behind her, brace her body with his and drop his face into the long, pale curve of her neck? From this distance, he could just catch the edge of her spicy perfume. It wasn’t enough. Couldn’t they drop the bullshit and have this conversation naked? Somewhere comfortable? Where she couldn’t run away for at least a week? She swayed on the stool. “And I don’t have to guess how you feel right now. I can’t get away from it.” She took a deep breath and blew it out loudly. “Enough with the lust, Ryan. You’re giving me a headache.” Surprise jerked him upright. “That is certainly not my intention.” “Yes, I understand that. But we aren’t teenagers anymore.” Her indulgent smile made his hackles rise. She had moved on. She’d made that clear, but he still felt like she owed him an explanation. “I have some questions for you.” He crossed his arms. He had assumed she was cleverly tapping a niche market with the whole sensual psychic gig. Was it possible she was telling the truth? If so, he had nothing to hide. She jumped to her feet. “I’m sorry, but I have a client at four-thirty. I don’t have time to chat.”

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“Actually, you do.” He pointed at the appointment book on the counter. “I booked your last slot.” She grabbed the book and flipped it open. “Marvin Gaye?” Her voice held disbelief and fury. “I couldn’t resist.” He took a sip of his cappuccino, now cool enough to drink. “Isn’t that what you peddle? Sexual healing? I’ve needed a dose of that for ten years. Bring it on, Crystal. I’m waiting.”

Crystal gaped at him. He was waiting? How about her, waiting for that phone call that never came? He had a lot of nerve. Why hadn’t she checked the appointment book? Then she would have known something was bogus. Unfortunately, Beth had come in for a vibrator consult, and she hadn’t given another thought to her four-thirty client, her fake client who had just toasted her carefully constructed shield. Damn it. She was going to kill Destiny for setting her up like this. Crystal struggled to control her physical response to his surface emotions, but it was a losing battle. Her pulse was a dull thud in her ears. Her throat was dry. Her breasts were swollen, as well as other vital areas of her body. Hell no, she wasn’t going to read him. There was no way she would willingly dig deeper. A shiver ran through her. She had to get him out of here. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” “I have an appointment.” She shrugged. “I don’t accept every client. Nothing personal.” But it was personal and they both knew it. She stepped out from behind the counter and gestured around the store. “Why don’t you take a look around before you leave? Maybe you’ll find something that can solve your problems.”


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“I’m not leaving.” She ignored him. “Our vibrators are state-of-the-art. Buy one for your girlfriend. She’ll love it.” Damn it, she sounded like she was fishing. “No girlfriend.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, striving to sound disinterested. “In that case, we do sell several inventive devices that could help you out until you meet someone new.” His teeth flashed white against his perfect tan. “I already checked out the merchandise when I made my appointment this morning. I want my half hour, Crystal.” “No.” Her voice wavered, broke. Shit. He stepped toward her. “We both know this isn’t finished between us.” She held her ground. “We were finished when you flew back to California ten years ago. I haven’t thought about you in years.” She was thankful he couldn’t feel her emotions. She was broadcasting liar, liar, pants on fire. His sharp thrust of anger enabled her to focus. Anger she could handle. Anger was easy. She gave him a slow smile of anticipation. “In fact, guys aren’t really my thing anymore.” “You’re celibate?” His shock was uniquely satisfying. “Nope. I like women,” she said. He burst out laughing. She frowned. “No, really. I’ve got a date for the reception tonight. You can meet her.” His breath puffed in short gasps. “Oh, man, do you expect that to be a deterrent? That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re a lesbian?” “Not exactly.” She crossed her arms, bristling. “But I date women.”

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He grinned. “Crystal, you can change your name and you can wear all the black leather you want, but you can’t change what you are. You like sex.” “You’re right, I do. I get plenty of it.” “You like sex with a man.” “Give me a break.” She rolled her eyes. “Sex is sex, Ryan. Love is love. The rest is just anatomy. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Nope, I don’t have a clue, but I do know what I remember. You like to be taken. Fucked. Entered with more than fingers and plastic. I don’t think that’s something you just give up. Don’t you miss it?” His quick switch from helpless laughter to focused desire caught her offguard. For a split second, she rode the wave of his emotions, joined them. Oh, yes. She could barely think she missed it so much. She struggled, fought it down. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t. I’m in control of my life. I help my clients get control of theirs. I don’t miss anything.” He gestured at the rainbow of vibrators lining the back wall of the sex shop. “All of those cannot replace sex.” “I’d say that depends on your definition of sex.” She arched her back and lifted the heavy weight of her hair from her neck, stopping the gesture just before her breasts popped out of the top of her leather demi-bustier. “I don’t have any complaints.” His dark eyes followed her motion with appreciation. “So how long has it been?” She put her hands on her hips. “None of your business.” “Are we talking months or years? Forgive me for being so nosy, but this is fascinating. Seriously? No men?” “No men,” she repeated.


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He cocked his head to the side. “That doesn’t stop me from being attracted to you.” “Too bad,” she scoffed. “Just because you get a hard-on for a girl doesn’t mean she wants to sleep with you.” He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t feel the buzz between us?” Like a raging, swirling cloud of killer bees. She shook her head. “Nope.” She hoped he wouldn’t notice she was pressed up against the counter for support. “Really?” he asked, closing the distance between them with one step. “So the fact that I can see your heart beating under your skin means nothing?” He trailed warm fingers across her chest and gently tapped the spot over her heart. His gaze held her motionless. “Your pupils are dilated. You’re holding your breath.” Her mouth fell open and breath whistled into her lungs. He dipped closer and she swayed, keenly aware of the heat scenting the air between them. One devilish eyebrow disappeared beneath the lock of sun-kissed hair on his forehead. “You’ll have to forgive my confusion. Usually when I get those signals, it’s a green light. You’re sure you aren’t attracted to me at all?” His voice held hope and the dark edge of desire. “Positive.” “Prove it.” His smile was a dare. “Kiss me.” She shook her head. No way. She wasn’t falling for that. “Just once. A simple little kiss. If it doesn’t turn you on, then you can go back to your girlfriends and your vibrators. I’ll never bother you again. But if it does turn you on…” She felt his determination advance toward her like an invisible army. He wasn’t going to let this go without a fight, and the hysterical impulse to leap behind the counter and brandish the stool at him like a lion tamer crossed her mind. Could she survive one simple kiss? One night with him had ripped her

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wide open and hot-wired her emotions to the world around her. For her, there was nothing simple about kissing him, but he didn’t know that. Maybe if she played it right, all those emotions pouring out of him, the ones that were using her as a punching bag, would disappear. Would he leave her alone if she could convince him she wasn’t attracted to him? Crystal lifted her chin defiantly. “One kiss,” she said, throwing everything she had into her shield. “And then you go.” Ryan pulled her body flush against his own, one arm a hard curve around her waist, the other a band across her back. He fit her like a puzzle piece, edges matching, curves lined up. There was no gap between them. Crystal’s head began to buzz. She swallowed convulsively. His arms gentled into a seductive caress and his lips settled over hers, whisper-soft as they sought a response. She had expected an onslaught of lust, not tenderness. Oh, shit, she couldn’t handle sweetness, not when his lips reminded her of what it was like to be skin-on-skin on a hot summer night with no walls, no barriers and nothing to hide. His mouth opened, coaxed her lips apart, and his tongue touched hers, retreated. She held her arms behind her and dug her long nails viciously into her palms, hoping the pain would keep her focused on her shield. Instead, it added to her awareness of the sharp ache between her thighs. She shifted her feet, lifted one stiletto heel and brought it down squarely on her instep. As she shifted, his hands caught hers, drew them up to his shoulders as he lifted her onto the counter, never losing contact with her mouth. He stepped between her thighs. Her skirt was so short it provided no barrier and she could feel his erection pressing against her panties. Her wet panties. Oh God, she was losing this battle. Did he know?


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His lips flirted with hers, moving softly, cleverly over her mouth. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and abandon herself to the desire thrumming between them, but then he would never leave her alone. It was important that he leave her alone. He slid one hand behind her neck, angled her head and stroked into her mouth, moving against her in a rhythm she had never forgotten. She answered back, twisting her hips. His moan was a low throb of satisfaction, barely audible, more felt than heard. Need rushed from her pelvis to her chest then dropped back down to land in a heavy pool between her thighs. Ryan traced the line of her garter until his hand met the junction of hip and leg. His thumb edged beneath the elastic of her underwear. A whimper broke free from her throat as her hips arched toward his hand. Dimly, she heard the sound of the bell tinkling on the front door. Ryan raised his head. His eyes were glazed, hot, as he pulled her forward. Crystal pressed closer to him, riding the long line of his body. Her feet hit the floor and she stiffened, startled. He stepped back. “Save a dance for me tonight.”

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Chapter Five

Mark and Alisa had spared no expense for their reception. She and Bonita were the only two people ignoring the lavish buffet and enjoying the summer sunset on the secluded patio of the posh country club. Or, rather, Bonita was enjoying it. She was also getting a kick out of Crystal’s acute embarrassment. The other guests were inside admiring the ice sculptures, chocolate fountain, martini luge, carving stations and six-tier wedding cake. More than a few were surreptitiously slipping wedding favors into their pockets. Alisa must have spent hours tying grosgrain ribbons on the individually wrapped, neon-colored, jellystretch cock rings. Bonita accepted two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Crystal. “You have to give me credit for staying quiet as long as humanly possible,” she said with a small smile. “I didn’t ask why you were sitting on the store counter and Ryan was wearing your lipstick. I didn’t make a peep on the drive over here, mostly because I was afraid you’d jump out of the car on the highway if I did.” She held up a hand as Crystal tried to interrupt. “No, believe it or not, I don’t care about what happened in the shop this afternoon. Well, I do, but that’s not what I want to hear first. I want the whole story.” Bonita’s clear, green eyes were solemn. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to tell me why you’ve been hiding at Come Again for all these years?” “I’m not hiding,” Crystal protested. Bonita took a sip of champagne and waited. Not once during their friendship had she pushed Crystal for information. Bonita was the most private person she

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knew, and she respected Crystal’s privacy as carefully as she guarded her own. After all of her support, Bonita deserved to know the truth. Crystal forced herself to turn back the clock. “I met him at a frat party my freshman year of college. I think he and Mark grew up together, and he was visiting for homecoming weekend. When he kissed me, it felt like a religious experience. It was like…bang. Trumpets, flashing lights, a chorus of angels, the whole shebang. I thought it was love at first sight. In retrospect, I guess the tequila could have had something to do with it.” Crystal stared into her glass, watching the bubbles rise and pop on the surface. She took a long sip. “I was a virgin.” Bonita groaned. “I went upstairs with him and he was everything I could have hoped for in a first lover. Completely open, honest, he talked to me the whole time, made sure it was good for me, even the first time. Back then I didn’t realize how unusual that was—real communication during sex, the Holy Grail of lovemaking. We didn’t sleep, just made love all night. In the morning, he kissed me goodbye and got on a plane to California. I never heard from him again.” “What?” Outrage darkened Bonita’s eyes to the exact shade of her elegant jade necklace. “You didn’t give him your number? Or get his?” “He got mine and put it in his cell phone. I didn’t ask for his. I was trying to be cool.” Bonita frowned. “Oh, that’s just painful.” “It gets worse. That’s when the psychic stuff began. I walked out of the bedroom that morning and got flattened by depression. I didn’t know it, but I was channeling the combined hangover of the entire fraternity house. Then I staggered outside and found two people having a screaming breakup on the front porch. I knew what they were yelling at each other didn’t match what was

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in their hearts, so I started babbling, couldn’t stop myself. I should have kept my mouth shut, of course, but then they started being honest with each other. I guess they were my first pro bono clients.” She smiled, remembering. That incident had eventually given her the idea for Get In Touch. “After that, I learned how to keep my thoughts to myself, but I felt like I was standing in a hailstorm. I never knew when I was going to get hit by someone else’s emotions. Do you know how many kids are walking around broadcasting their feelings on a college campus?” She groaned. “I was a wreck. Thank God for Come Again. I would have gotten into more trouble than I did without that vibrator you sold me. Your pretty girlfriends were a big help too. Still are, in fact.” “Yes, I have to agree there,” Bonita said with a small smile. Crystal set her empty champagne glass on the table and snagged another one from a tray. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Bonita chewed on her bottom lip. “So where’d Ryan go?” she asked. “Stanford. Graduate School of Business. I waited all day for him to call and then I squashed my pride and went back to the frat house to ask around. Mark wasn’t there, thank God, but the house was having another party.” She swallowed hard. “You know what happens to an empath around a bunch of hot, horny guys who smell freshman meat?” Bonita looked horrified. “Yeah, it wasn’t pretty.” She had missed Ryan, but she’d filled her emptiness with every cock in the fraternity house that night. Dim lights, drawn curtains, the smell of incense and beer, salty sweat on heated flesh. Her lust had been endless, uncontrollable, fed by the frenzy around her. That night had taught her an awesome and horrifying lesson, and she was lucky she hadn’t ended up pregnant or worse. “I didn’t leave my dorm room for a week after that, not until I figured out how to shield. I’d walk outside and sidle up to someone and see if I


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was safe and then run back to my room. I also practiced on the pizza delivery guys because there was no way I could go to the cafeteria.” “I guess that explains why I never see you Upstairs at Johnny’s on orgy night,” Bonita said, offering her a smile that held no pity. Crystal smiled back at her. “No way in hell.” Bonita nodded. “So what happened this afternoon? You guys looked ready to combust.” Crystal didn’t spare a single detail. “That’s almost impressive,” Bonita said, when she had finished. “You told him you liked girls and he stole third base?” “Don’t remind me. My last faint hope is to prove that you and I are madly in love. Maybe then he’ll leave me alone.” Bonita had a pensive expression on her face. “Let me get this straight. One night of hot sex with Ryan Anderson turned you into a nymphomaniac psychic?” “Something like that.” Her friend grinned. “Don’t you want to know what a second night would do to you?” Crystal scowled. “Have you lost your mind? I would expect you, of all people, to tell me to stay the hell away from him!” “Why? Because I’m a lesbian?” “No, because you helped clean up the wreck he left behind!” Bonita’s expression was reproving. “Crystal, you weren’t a wreck—you were a teenager discovering her sexuality. I will admit that the whole psychic thing was complicated, but you handled it. And you’ve been indispensable at Come Again for years now, and Get In Touch really helps people. Don’t you tell your clients not to deny their feelings? Why are you denying yours?”

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“Whoa!” Crystal said, stung. “Hey, whose side are you on?” “Yours,” Bonita said firmly. “But you’ve been running from this guy for ten years—” “I haven’t been running anywhere!” “Metaphorically speaking. He looks at you like he wants to take you apart and put you back together piece by piece. That guy’s focus is so tight, I can almost see laser beams coming out of his eyeballs. He makes you burn, sweetie. You were hot this afternoon. It turned me on just watching you two look at each other. And I haven’t looked at a man in…” Bonita paused. “Well, ever.” She nailed Crystal with a direct look. “Don’t you want to hear what he’s got to say for himself? Aren’t you curious?” “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Crystal leaned back it her chair and stared at the sky. “It was scary in the shop today,” she finally admitted. “I can feel him. Even with my shield up, he gets in. I can’t think about anything but him, and when I do manage to get my brain under control, a stiff breeze rolls by and my body reminds me that it hasn’t forgotten him, either.” “All the more reason to give it another shot. Maybe you can get him out of your system.” Bonita leaned forward in her chair. “Or maybe not. But at least you won’t be running anymore. If I had to make a guess from looking at him, the harder you run, the faster he’s going to chase you. He reminds me of a bull pawing the ground, getting ready to charge. Someone once told me that when a bull goes into a rage, they have to hit him in the nuts with a steel baseball bat to get him to snap out of it. No kidding. A baseball bat. Ryan Anderson may have disappeared for ten years, but he doesn’t look like the type to give up easily when he wants something.” Crystal shook her head. “My whole day was shot after I saw him at the wedding. I couldn’t concentrate with my client. I opened up and got clobbered


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by my own damn emotions. If I can’t keep my feelings under control long enough to help my clients, then I can’t work. Ryan already ruined my life—I will not let him ruin my business.” “He didn’t ruin your life, sweetie. He made it.” “Yeah, well, now he’s screwing it up.” Crystal bit her lip as she exposed her underlying fear. “What if it all goes away?” “That’s pretty damn ironic considering you’re pissed at him for making you psychic in the first place.” “You’re not helping.” “Just keeping you honest, sweetie. I know he hurt you, but what if spending some time with him now can help you? It’s been ten years, Crystal, and you’re still hiding, still healing. It isn’t going to go away. Accept the risk on your terms.” Bonita took her hands and gave them a squeeze. “Look on the bright side—if you have sex with him again, maybe you’ll be able to teleport.” “Very funny.” Through the window, she saw Ryan enter the ballroom. A jolt of energy hit her body like a triple espresso shot. He had exchanged his khakis for a dark blue pinstriped suit, and several female heads turned to admire him as he crossed the room. He looked like a marauding Viking with his wild blond curls and dark, piercing eyes. She smacked down a stab of jealously. This was so not the time to get in touch with her repressed feelings. “Bonita, please, I’m desperate. I’ll think about what you said, but I need to buy some time. I can’t do this tonight. Please, are you going to help me? You promised. I’m begging you!” A mischievous smile lit Bonita’s green eyes. “It’s kind of a rush to be on the other side of the begging for once.” Crystal pressed a hand to her head. “Are you going to help me or not?”

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Bonita was silent. Crystal felt Ryan move toward the patio. Desire, hers and his, tightened her skin. Bonita sighed. “I think you’re making a mistake, but, yes, I’ll help you. Think we’ll scandalize the library crowd?” “God, I hope so.” They had to make it convincing or Ryan wouldn’t believe it. “There goes my Monday night book club,” Bonita said with resignation. “Really?” Crystal glanced at her anxiously. “No, and I’d do it anyway. Is he coming this way?” She nodded. Every hair on her body had zinged to life the minute he spotted them on the patio. “Drink up,” Bonita ordered. Crystal drank, clutching the glass. If Bonita hadn’t been holding onto her other hand, she might have jumped the stairs, high heels notwithstanding, and bolted from the patio. Escape, in one way or another, was imperative. Bonita grasped her chin, forcing Crystal to meet her eyes. “Stay with me, sweetie. You can do this. Focus on me.” Bonita took the empty glass from her hand, set it on a table and pulled her to a secluded spot at the end of the patio. “Let’s make him come find us.” She relaxed under Bonita’s confident touch, shutting her eyes to better enjoy the slide of her full lips, opening her mouth to allow Bonita’s tongue to sweep against her own. Her scent was clean and earthy, like lilies after rain, and her mouth tasted sweet from the wine. It was heaven to get some relief. Crystal took control of the kiss, shaping Bonita’s jaw with her palm and reaching behind to cup her ass and pull her body closer. Softness met softness, and Bonita moaned as Crystal pressed her legs apart with her thigh. Bonita’s eyelids fluttered, opened, and for the second time that day Crystal was


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overwhelmed by emotion. This time, she was sure it wasn’t hers. She sensed Bonita’s emotions snap beyond her control, saw the naked passion, the anguish and denial, the hope. Crystal was stricken, stunned. “Who is she?” Bonita tried to push away from her, but Crystal caught her hands firmly and held on, maintaining their link. “I’m sorry.” Bonita gave her pained look. “I guess I’m a little raw myself, and you remind me of her.” “Holy shit,” Crystal whispered. “I had no idea. You spend so much time at Johnny’s club. Are you collared? How come I’ve never met her?” Bonita’s sad smile tore at her heart. “It’s…complicated. I can’t have her, haven’t seen her in years.” An eloquent shrug shook Bonita’s lean shoulders. “To be honest, I think Ryan might be the one for you, and I can’t bear to see you throw that away. You might not get another chance.” All these years her boss had been hiding a secret crush and an even more secret heartbreak? Crystal raised her eyebrows. “How about you heed some of that sage advice and go get her? What’s good for the goose—” Bonita’s silvery laugh rang across the patio. “Is good for the other goose? I wish.” She expelled a forceful sigh and pulled her hands away. Crystal felt shocked, bereft. The emotions throbbing in the air between them vanished like smoke. She could sense nothing except the playful mischief Bonita had been projecting earlier. It was as if the intense exchange had never taken place. Her confusion must have shown on her face because Bonita said, “You’re surprised a formerly closeted homosexual can hide her emotions?” “From me? Yes.”

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“I’ve got skills, baby.” Bonita reached down to snap Crystal’s thong panties through her dress. A wicked grin curved her lips. “Here he comes.” Crystal stepped closer to Bonita. “This could backfire. Some guys like to watch,” Bonita warned, an instant before her lips settled firmly over Crystal’s mouth again. This time, although Bonita’s tongue was in her mouth and her hands were on her ass, Crystal felt no disturbing echo of emotion. “Loosen up, sweetie,” Bonita whispered. “You’re stiff as a board.” Crystal tried, but Bonita’s soft body against hers felt strange. She groaned through gritted teeth. So far today Ryan had ruined her work with a client and made kissing a girl feel wrong. A deep voice rose from the shadows below them. “Mind if I cut in?” The evening breeze lifted goosebumps on her bare arms, and she shivered. Like champagne bubbles, the desire to feel his body pressed up against hers rose from her center. She clutched Bonita. “No, thanks—” “You promised to save me a dance.” His voice brooked no argument. Bonita shook her off gently. “As a matter of fact, I was just thinking about hitting the buffet.” A swift arrow of emotion encouraged her, even as Bonita kissed her cheek and whispered, “Three’s a crowd, sweetie. You’ll thank me some day. Don’t forget your baseball bat, just in case.” The sound of her high heels was loud on the stamped concrete as she left the patio. Crystal eyed her back, already thinking about retribution. “I can’t fault your taste in women. She’s lovely.” Ryan led her across the patio and into the ballroom. The dance floor was crowded, and Crystal was buffeted with wild thrusts of elated energy from the dancers. He pulled her stiff body into his arms. “Relax. It’s just a dance.” Just a kiss. Just a dance. Just her sanity.


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In spite of the music’s fast rhythm, he held her close. Every beat of his heart under her cheek put a dent in her shield, hitting her with hard-core, gut-shot lust. Champagne fizzed insistently through her veins. The band introduced a familiar song. Ryan chuckled, remembering, as she did. Crystal felt eighteen again, drunk on freedom and tequila, pressed up against a stranger in the middle of a dance floor. A light sweat broke out all over her body. Ryan’s voice hummed under her ear, but she had no idea what he was saying. Her brain couldn’t process his words, but she hoped he would keep talking. Then he might not notice that she was falling apart under his hands like an overcooked roast, shredding to the bone. He throbbed against her, and she closed her eyes. Pure. Raw. Returned. It wasn’t just him—it was her too. On the surface this was innocent—just a dance. Dig deeper and the embers were burning red-hot, banked below the soft, gray ashes of ten years. All it would take was one stiff breeze and they would both go up in flames, right in the middle of the dance floor. It didn’t matter what was good for her. She wanted him, and she needed to figure out what to do about it before they drifted any closer to the point of no return. Denial was as dangerous as ignorance. Crystal snapped to attention in time to hear him say, “I did call, you know.” She stopped moving, stunned into immobility. “I lost my cell phone on the plane back to school, but I called the frat house as soon as I got home. You were…very busy.” A flash, an image. She buried her face in his chest, filled with horror. His arms tightened around her. “Goddamn it, I still want you, Crystal.”

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She wanted to apologize, but pride kept her silent. She felt his pain, but it was nothing compared to what she had felt. It had taken her a long time to stop feeling ashamed, even longer to stop blaming herself. The frat house fiasco wasn’t her fault. She had been vulnerable, torn wide open, exposed and unable to protect herself. Since then, she had learned to build walls to keep her safe from emotion. No one got to her without her permission. No one, it seemed, except him. Ryan slid right in through her cracks, maybe because he’d been there the night it all started. She didn’t really blame him for making her psychic—that would be silly. But she had wanted him to call her. She had wondered for years how the connection they had made that night could have only felt special to her. Now she knew he had felt it too. He’d called—and found her smack in the middle of a frat house orgy. Sorrow made her want to fall to her knees and press her forehead to the floor, to grieve for the girl who had felt so alone. It was tragic, ironic, too much to regret. And too late. Desire. Resentment. Hurt. Tears closed her throat and she clung to Ryan as he led her around the dance floor, expertly avoiding the other couples swirling around them. She wanted to explain what had happened to her the night they made love. Her life had exploded. But she stayed silent. What would that accomplish? They couldn’t change the past and if he knew the truth, he might think they had a second chance together. She wasn’t that girl anymore, naive, embracing life and the gifts it brought her. She had nearly lost her mind learning to control her emotions, and being near him drove her crazy again. He made it difficult for her to think, to work—hell, to exist. Telling him what had happened to her would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull.


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But she couldn’t help but wonder what her life would have been like if he hadn’t lost her phone number. Would they have had a chance? Would she be wearing silk instead of leather, pearls instead of chains? If she hadn’t felt abandoned, would she have learned to share instead of block? Her laugh sounded hollow to the ear pressed against his chest. His arms tightened around her. “What’s so funny?” “Shh.” She shook her head, lost in the fantasy, feeling boneless, languid, lulled by the Southern rock music and the rhythmic swaying of their bodies. Pleasure coursed along her skin, connecting their shared breath, and she wanted to enjoy it, just for a minute. It was all she would ever have of him. “Spend the night with me, Crystal.” Out of nowhere, bodies slammed into them hard enough to knock her off her feet. The air whooshed out of her lungs as Ryan caught her firmly to his chest to stop her fall. Alisa’s bustled white gown wrapped around their legs. “Mark!” Alisa’s eyes were sparkling like the huge diamond on her hand and her cheeks were flushed. “This isn’t a mosh pit!” “I had a college flashback there for a minute. Sorry, it’s gone now.” Mark’s grin was not at all apologetic. “You two were looking very cozy,” he observed. The band switched to a fast tune. Crystal got her balance and stepped away from Ryan, grateful for the interruption. Alisa leaned in for a hug and Crystal embraced her, shamelessly dipping into her joyful emotions. Crystal gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “She’s all yours now, Mark. Congratulations.” “Thanks,” Mark said. He raised his eyebrows at the two girls, and his grin spoke volumes. “I just want you to know that I’m a generous man. And openminded. Very open-minded. In fact, if you two ever get the urge to fool around again, I’d be more than happy to watch.”

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Alisa smacked his arm and laughed. Crystal raised her hand and trailed one teasing fingertip down the length of Mark’s strong jaw. “You couldn’t handle it, my friend,” she drawled, then gave him an accusing poke in his dimpled chin. “You’re awfully pleased with yourself.” She wasn’t talking about the wedding and he knew it. “Turnabout’s fair play,” he reminded her. “Not the same.” Alisa’s brow puckered, and worry washed away a bit of her bridely glow. “Mark, what have you done?” Crystal let her go. “Nothing you need to worry about, kiddo. You know I’ve got it all under control. Go forth and be happy. You’ll think of me on your honeymoon, I guarantee it.” Mark gave her a quizzical look, but shrugged, then claimed his bride by the hand and spun her off to join the gaggle of librarians queuing up for a conga line. Alisa blew her a kiss over Mark’s shoulder. Ryan stared from her to Alisa and back again with an arrested expression. “Seriously?” “Mark didn’t tell you?” Ryan slowly shook his head. Desire lit his eyes and he pulled her back into his arms. Her brief respite was over, but it had been long enough to bring her to a decision. Bonita was right—she had been hiding, but there was no point in hiding anymore, and she couldn’t fight an emotional battle on two fronts, hers and his. Maybe her best option was surrender. “One night,” she said. “You spent one night with Alisa?” “No, I dated Alisa for a month. One night for us,” she clarified.


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That would keep it simple. He wouldn’t expect anything more from her, and she wouldn’t be left hoping he would call. Her pulse picked up speed as she remembered how good it had been between them. Experience would only make it better now. She wasn’t a shrinking violet virgin anymore. She had studied the male sexual response so that she could help her clients. Ryan wouldn’t know what hit him, and she wouldn’t have to go home to her vibrator tonight. His hand smoothed the curve of her waist and hip. “Probably not going to be enough.” “Take it or leave it.” She pressed into him, pliant and wet just from memory. Bare skin, shared breath, freedom. Please take it. “It goes against everything I believe in to accept the first offer.” His fingers slipped into the deep-backed V of her dress and caressed her spine. His leg slid in between hers. He pulled her close, too close for comfort. A quiet gasp escaped her lips. Her thighs trembled from the effort of not grinding against his leg. They were in the middle of a dance floor. She may have agreed to have sex with him, but she wasn’t going to do it here. She lifted her head. His lips held a wicked curve and his eyes were alight with triumph and something incendiary. Oh, this man was dangerous. She reached behind her waist to grasp his wrists and pull them away from her body. “That was a demand, not an offer—and I need to read you before we do anything.” She hadn’t completely lost her mind. Now, it was better for her to know everything. “I have nothing to hide.” “Good.” She put her hands on her hips. “Is that a yes on both counts?” “You drive a hard bargain.” He grinned, as aware as she that he was hard too. She crossed her arms. “I don’t like surprises.”

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“Were there surprises last time?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Crystal remained silent. He took her hand and tugged her off the dance floor. “Never mind. I don’t care. You’ve got a deal.” She paused to scan the room, locating Bonita just a few tables away. A stunning blond was handing her a drink. A double, from the looks of it. She caught Bonita’s eye and raised her hand in farewell. They exchanged a look that would have required an entire conversation for most people. “She doesn’t waste any time,” Ryan observed. “It’s not what you think. Let’s go,” Crystal said. “Unless you’re hungry.” She waved an arm at the buffet. “Not for food.” He urged her toward the door.


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His rental was a sleek red Porsche Cayman, and Crystal looked like an exotic black panther lazing in the leather seat. “Your place or mine?” he asked. “Yours,” she responded without hesitation. He wondered what her home looked like. Would it be an apartment or a house and did she decorate her surrounding as creatively as she decorated herself? He pulled out of the parking lot, shaking his head at his curiosity. Tonight wasn’t about her taste in furniture. It was about scratching an itch and putting the past where it belonged—behind him. He’d left Come Again this afternoon with more questions. First and foremost, why was she denying the attraction between them? In spite of all evidence to the contrary, she said she didn’t want him. She was lying—but why? Because he hadn’t called ten years ago? Why did she care? She certainly hadn’t cared at the time or she wouldn’t have been naked on the ping-pong table when he called the frat house. For a minute, just a split second, even though Mark had verified the rumor, he had hoped Crystal would deny she had participated, but her horrified expression confirmed what he already knew. She’d been there, which meant their night together hadn’t meant anything to her. It was nice that she didn’t want to hurt his feeling though—very empathetic of her. He forced himself to let go of the bitterness that made his heart ache. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t looking for anything other than her body in his bed tonight.

Miranda Baker

He might have been a sucker then and he might be a sucker now, but denial always made him want something even more. If he wanted to lose a few pounds, dieting didn’t work for him. More exercise did. Using the same logic, he would gorge his craving for her. He didn’t see the point in denying himself when she was all he could think about. Instead, he would hold her, have her, and if he couldn’t forget her, then at least he would replace his college memories of her with memories that wouldn’t be tainted with promises, broken or otherwise. He glanced over at her. The woman had a thing for corsets, obviously. Her black dress was a less formal version of the style she had worn in the wedding today. Her legs were bare and she wore some sort of strappy high-heeled sandal that tied around her ankles and displayed her glossy black-painted toenails. His heart thudded in his chest, and he was glad he wasn’t a teenager anymore. He wouldn’t rush her clothes off this time. In fact, he’d probably leave the shoes on. What was she wearing under the dress? His hands tightened on the steering wheel and he took the turn into the parking garage too fast. Luckily, the Cayman had excellent brakes. “Sorry,” he said. She shrugged, which did nothing to help his raging hormones. Okay, maybe he would rush the dress off. He couldn’t wait to see her breasts, cup them, hold them in his hands as his belly pressed against her back and he leaned over her. “Jesus Christ,” he said, sliding into a parking space with a screech. He hopped out of the car and slammed the door. She already had her door open and he held out his hand to help her out of the car. She ignored it. Irritation made his jaw ache. Standing in front of him in her heels, she only had to tilt her face to meet his eyes. “Ryan, if I take your hand right now, we will fuck in the middle of the parking garage. One of us has to have some restraint. Now lock this ridiculously


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expensive car and let’s get going. You are giving me a headache again, and I would much prefer other things to ache.” She stepped around him and headed for the elevator. He followed, a smile on his face, half in appreciation of her sense of humor, half in appreciation of her spectacular ass. And legs. Her legs were long with well-shaped calf muscles and sculpted hamstrings that made him want to run his tongue— “Ryan.” She didn’t look at him as they waited for the elevator to arrive. “Not here, either.” “Sorry.” With effort, he dragged his eyes to the floor indicator and thought about numbers, the only thing that could possibly keep his mind off of Crystal right now. “Good boy.” Her voice held approval and it made his cock twitch, even though he usually couldn’t stand to be patronized. He was used to calling the shots in bed, at work—well, everywhere—but he could see the advantage of obeying a woman in a short black dress and high heels. The elevator dinged and the door opened. She stepped inside and walked to the far back corner. He smiled, entered the elevator and inserted his key into the control panel, staying at the front with his back to her. The doors shut. Neither one of them spoke. It was a long ride up to the top floor. He could feel the air thicken between them until every breath took effort. His throat felt like it had a boulder in it when he swallowed. His skin felt tight and sensitive. Finally, the doors opened and he held them for her. He stepped in front of her to slide his key into the lock that opened the penthouse suite. She brushed against him as she walked through the door and

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the quick touch of her body made him inhale sharply. It was a good thing he’d bought an entire box of condoms this morning. They were going to need them. He stepped into the room and flicked the light switch. She stood in the entryway with her back toward him. He moved forward and placed his hands on her hips, dropping his lips into the curve of her neck as he had longed to do this afternoon. Her skin was soft and she smelled like heat, a scent that went straight to his head—and groin. He pressed into her, fitting his erection into the cleft of her ass, smoothing the satin of her dress over the curve of her hips, reaching around to caress the slight, womanly curve of her belly. She relaxed against him, tilting her head to accept his mouth on her neck, arching her back to rub against him in a rhythm that made him growl. He surged forward, walking her toward the couch. Yes, she’d be keeping those heels on for a while. He could picture her bent over the couch, dress pushed above her hips, legs parted… She twisted to face him and put her palms against his chest just as they bumped the back of the couch. “Not so fast.” She held him at arm’s length. “You promised I could read you.” Her voice was low and rough, and her breath was uneven. He wanted to roll right over her protests, tumble her over the back of the couch and press her deep into its leather surface…but a deal was a deal. He took a step back. “Sorry, you go straight to my head. Any chance you can make it fast?” For some reason, that made her laugh as she led him around to the front of the couch and gave him a gentle shove. He hit the leather and groaned, looking up at her towering above him in her high, high heels. “Okay, on second thought. This is fine. Take your time.” He shifted and gazed up at her. “How does it work? Do you need to touch me? God, I hope so.”


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“No, but I want to touch you.” Gracefully, she straddled him, settling onto his lap with one knee on each side of his thighs. He looked down and saw that her skirt had risen to the top of her thighs. If she moved forward a few inches, she’d be riding his cock. Even through clothes, that sounded like an excellent idea, but he remained still, allowing her to run the show. Restraint was a new exercise for him and he found it didn’t decrease his arousal one bit. In fact, the harder he fought to remain still, the more turned on he became. He wasn’t sure what had changed her mind since this afternoon, but he didn’t care. He knew exactly what she would find when she delved into his emotions—a man who wanted to fuck her until they both collapsed—but he could give her a few minutes to get comfortable with the idea.

Crystal gritted her teeth. The pull of his desire was so strong she fought the urge to lean backwards just to remain upright. “Are you ready?” she asked. “I’m ready for anything as long as I get my turn when you’re done.” His eyes flashed like dark fire in the light of the desk lamp. “Am I going to get my turn, Crystal?” “Yes,” she said faintly, raising her hands to his face. Tenderness stole over her, and she couldn’t resist tracing the fine lines around his eyes, the changes a decade had wrought on his face. The wide planes of his cheeks were rough against her palms. His jaw was set and firm. She slid her hands greedily into his thick, blond hair. Then she closed her eyes and slipped into him. The impact stole her breath and soaked her panties in a wet rush. She buckled and felt his hands grasp her hips as she rocked forward. Ryan’s lust was

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as commanding as an ocean wave. It knocked her down. She ground into his lap and followed the undertow of pure, naked desire deeper into him. Anger scorched her. Her eyes snapped open and locked with his as she pushed his shoulders sideways and drove him down onto the couch. His chest was hard beneath her hands as she bent over him and struck. Her kiss was a bruising invasion, meant to punish, and he met her lips with the barest suggestion of teeth. He didn’t struggle, but Crystal could feel his urge to master her. She rose over him, howling, determined to break his tight control. She would not let a man control her. Never again. She would teach him about mastery. She braced her arms on either side of his head and stretched herself fulllength on top of him. Her dress inched up to her waist as she slithered over his body and rubbed her hips against him. Even through his pants and her underwear, Crystal could feel him throb against her. Ryan bit his lip, groaned, and Crystal caught the elusive edge of another emotion. His anger was a thin veneer over the swirling mass of something else. Did he think he could hide from her? She pushed. He gave. Waves of longing crashed through her. She arched above him, her eyes shut tight, transfixed by a pain so acute she thought her heart might break. Loneliness overwhelmed her. Emptiness stretched out around her, and she longed to fill it, fill him. She would do anything to ease his pain. She sat up, reaching wildly for his belt buckle. He caught her hands and rolled, easing her to the floor and gently pinning her beneath him. They fit together precisely, lock and key.


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Ryan brushed tears off her cheeks. “My turn,” he whispered, as he claimed her lips.

She gave, opening her mouth, spreading her legs and cradling him with her body. He couldn’t wait to be naked inside her, and yet he didn’t want to rush their pleasure. Her hands were urgent on his back, forcing him closer to her. Perversely, he slowed down. He sat up and pulled her into his lap. She made a distressed sound, not quite a whimper, not quite a growl, and he laughed softly. “I like the way you’re thinking, but I want to see you bent over the couch, wearing nothing but your shoes.” “Done.” She stood and reached behind her. He heard the sound of a zipper. She shrugged and her dress slid to the floor. His breath left his lungs in an openmouthed groan of appreciation as he took in her nearly naked body. He pushed himself to his feet as she unhooked the closure of her black strapless bra and tossed it onto the couch. He reached for her. Her full breasts overflowed his palms and were the sweetest weight he had ever held. He bent to suck a dark pink nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue until he felt her fingers grasp his hair. He moved to her other nipple, but continued to lightly pluck the first between his fingers and thumb while she clutched his head to her chest. He knelt before her, reaching up to cup the swells of her ribcage and run his hands over the slight curve of her belly. Her body was a revelation of soft skin and smooth, sleek bone. He reached behind her to squeeze her ass and realized her thong underwear was held on by ties at her hips. Groaning, he pressed a kiss just below her belly button.

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He worked one finger under the elastic of her underwear, and she angled her hips to meet his hand. Her folds were wet and silky. She rocked her hips, silently begging him to go farther, delve deeper, and he gave her what she wanted by adding another finger. He plucked the ties at her hips and her panties fell away from her body in a shiny ribbon of black fabric. He could hear her gasping above him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her beautiful, nearly bare pussy. Her mound was smooth except for one small patch of black curls just above her slit. He traced the path between her legs with one finger. Her skin was as smooth as her bottom. In slow motion, holding her heavy-lidded gaze, Ryan leaned forward and licked between her swollen, pouting lips, catching her sweet moisture on his tongue. He explored her with his mouth and she swelled against him, moaning. Her clit felt like a ripe bud, flowering between his lips and tongue. He used his whole mouth to suck her while he thrust one finger, then two, inside her. Crystal clamped around him, inner muscles tightening around his knuckles. She began to pant, and he felt a subtle ripple against his fingers. He slipped his fingers out of her, continuing to lick her gently and caress her with soft fingers but ruthlessly avoiding her clit. He wanted it to be his cock, not his hand, filling her when she came. He waited for her to come back to herself, his vision filled with her smooth thighs, round belly and perfect breasts. She made a sound that might actually have been a word. “What was that, darling?” Ryan asked. “Bed.” She cleared her throat. “Couch. Whatever. But if you are going to torture me, I need something to lean on.” “Picky, picky.” Ryan stood and lifted her into his arms. “Hey! Put me down!”


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“Hmm, you didn’t used to be this bossy.” He carried her into the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed, momentarily giving up his couch fantasy in favor of comfort. He sat beside her and reached for her foot, removing first one shoe and then the other. She scrambled toward the pillows at the head of the bed. He removed his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and tossed them both toward the chair in the corner of the room. He kicked off his shoes, shed his pants and boxers in a heap and crawled after her.

Crystal wanted Ryan’s weight on top of her but he paused between her legs, licking into her in hot, wet strokes. She pressed her hips toward him and gave herself up to the waves of pleasure flooding her body. He drove her skillfully up to the peak again and left her hanging there, fisting the comforter and digging her heels into the mattress while he prowled up her body. She blinked as his erection brushed her stomach. Panic flared bright until he kissed her, spreading desire through her limbs like a wild, crazy fire. Her pussy clenched, seeking stimulation, and she reached between their bodies to grasp his hard cock and pull him to her center. She felt his wanting would split her apart. “So impatient.” Ryan forced her hands above her head and let the weight of his hips press her into the bed. “Isn’t ten years of waiting enough?” Crystal’s question ended in a low moan as Ryan shifted to catch her lips in another soft kiss. It was her snapshot memory of him all over again. Mahogany eyes, bittersweet and reverent. The thought of having him inside her made her shudder with the first tremors of orgasm. “Oh, no, not without me. I’m coming with you,” Ryan said, leaning over the side of the bed. She writhed in impatience as he opened a bag, a box. She watched him sheath his cock. Oh, God, was she really going to do this? Ryan

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settled on top of her and leaned to kiss her again. His mouth opened hers. His tongue brushed against her slowly as he sipped at her mouth. Each kiss told a new story, the beginning, middle and end shaped by need. His lips spoke of his years of longing for her. The rhythm of his breath and the pulse of the blood in his veins told her that he wanted her still. Was that why she was doing this? Had his desire forced her to want him too? She couldn’t draw the line between them. Where did his desire end and hers begin? His tan, muscled chest was hot against her breasts. There was tension in his body, but there was also tenderness. She had hurt him and she couldn’t tell him why, but she could give him this and ease his hurt. In doing so, she could ease her own. She ached for the girl who had waited for Ryan to call, who still wanted him, who could have him now. For one night. Drawing a line between them didn’t matter. She couldn’t deny she wanted this as much as he did. Crystal shifted her hips and raised her knees to give him better access as he pressed against her opening. There was no point in hiding. He was already inside her heart. Now, he entered her body, moving slowly at first, but then with a driving intent that made her pant and claw his shoulders. He didn’t hold anything back. His body pounded into her, bringing savage, irresistible pleasure, and his emotions conquered her, forcing her toward surrender. He shifted to the side and reached between them, pressing his thumb against her clit as he rolled his hips in a short, sharp arc. She held on to his shoulders to keep from flying apart and then gave up, soaring to meet him. Crystal shattered. Ryan groaned deep in his chest as he broke too. He lifted his head and pressed his hips hard into her once, twice more, and then stopped, pinning her to the bed as wave after wave of incandescent pleasure flooded her belly, breasts


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and hips. She cried out and tears stung her eyes. Blindly, she reached for him, seeking his mouth, craving another connection between them. He met her with his lips, fierce on hers. His arms held her close, his body a comforting weight. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him, splintered by his kiss, as potent and piercing as her memories. Joy filled her and she refused to analyze her contentment as he eased his weight to the side, somehow keeping their connection. He reached between them, and she jolted as he brushed her clit. He flicked his thumb back and forth and she gasped, clenching around him. “Mmm, yes,” he groaned. “I’m right there with you. Just let me get rid of this condom.” The sensation was exquisite as he slid out of her body and she pressed her fingers between her legs, feeling his absence. He blinked hard, once, then said, “Keep doing that. I’ll only be a second.” She watched him go, tracing her still-swollen clit, then laughed as he emerged from the bathroom a millisecond later. He walked toward her, hardening already. Her pulse, which had barely slowed, began to pick up speed. He stopped next to the bed, his gaze on her hand. “Are you just going to watch?” she drawled. “For now.” His gaze felt heavy and his desire took her straight to the edge. He crawled to sit between her legs. “Show me what you like, Crystal.” “That’s going to take about five seconds.” His grin was a quick flash, driving her higher. She dipped her middle finger into her wetness then flicked her clit, fast and hard, until she came with a choked moan. “Again.” His voice was implacable. His features were taut with the effort of holding back the lust she knew gripped him. He wanted to bury himself inside

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her, so hard and deep, and she ached with the need to have him. She spread her legs wider, moved her fingers faster. Her body bowed off the bed, straining for satisfaction. “Now.” He reached forward and slid two fingers into her. She screamed, convulsing. He rubbed her G-spot with steady, firm strokes, urging her higher and higher until the pleasure felt endless. Finally, she gasped, “Stop, please…I can’t take any more.” She heard him chuckle and felt his weight shift on the bed. She heard foil rip, but she couldn’t muster the energy to open her eyes. She groaned when he settled between her thighs, whimpered when he pressed into her sensitive core. “Slow and easy,” he whispered, taking her mouth. His hips barely moved and yet she felt herself swelling, rising to meet him. “Just one more time and then you can rest.” “I don’t want to rest,” she whispered, realizing it was true. “I don’t want to waste a single moment of this night.” His eyes darkened, but he kept his promise, taking her up to the peak with infuriating, infinitesimal gentleness. He groaned and she sighed as another wave of pleasure rocked them both. Despite her best intentions of not wasting a moment, she drifted off to sleep.

Crystal woke slowly. It was still dark. She shut her eyes again but opened her thighs and felt Ryan’s low laugh puff against her. The cool trails left by his wet tongue tingled. She was sure this wasn’t a dream, but even so, she wasn’t going to wake up until it was over. Ryan continued to tease her by sucking gently, pulling her clit into his mouth but barely touching it with his tongue. Almost there. His hands slipped under www.samhainpublishing.com

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her buttocks and pulled her hips forward to meet his face. His chin pressed firmly against her ass. It was rough, but exquisite, so different from a woman’s smooth mouth. She felt mindless, boneless, all thought and feeling reduced to the shameless square inch between her thighs as she moved with him, undulating against his generous mouth. She felt herself growing, spreading, all neurons burning, firing, exploding. A hot rainbow bloomed behind her eyelids. She sighed. “Are you awake?” He crawled up to spoon her. “Getting there.” Crystal snuggled against him, rubbing herself against his hard body. She plucked a rubber off the bedside table and flipped it over her shoulder. He pulled back. She heard foil tear, and then he slid home. Crystal stretched her leg up and over, placing her foot behind his knees. He moved deeper to take advantage of her openness, but she placed a restraining hand on his tense thigh. “Don’t move. I’m going to do all the work.” “Don’t hurt your back. I have plans for the bathroom Jacuzzi.” “I’m not going to use my back.” Crystal began to squeeze him. Her walls stroked up and down the length of him in a slow, rolling wave. “What the hell?” “Shh. Pay attention.” Crystal pushed and pulled Ryan by slow inches, working his cock using only the muscles of her vagina. She had to admit that hot, hard flesh was much more arousing than the plastic toys she used when she was alone. She was now achingly aware that the technique she had primarily used to focus her energy and prolong her orgasm was also a very effective lesson in discipline and delayed gratification. She set the pace, but the thought of Ryan losing control and flipping her onto her stomach, pounding his cock into her from behind almost made her forget what she was doing.

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She reached back to cup his balls, pressed her middle finger behind them. She felt him fill, ready for her. His need was urgent, red-hot and violent, but he didn’t move a muscle. “Good boy,” she whispered. His breath was shallow and hoarse in her ear. She closed her thighs and pressed them together, increasing the pressure around his cock. Squeeze, release, squeeze, release. Her vaginal muscles milked him faster and faster and every contraction massaged her engorged clitoral tissue against his cock. She rode his desire, let it carry her higher, hotter. Only you. Ryan’s thought was an arrow of emotion so profound that it shaped the words in her head. Heat flared in her center. The unexpected intimacy took her by surprise and her climax ripped through her in strong, uncontrolled spasms. She screamed, ground her ass into his cock and pressed her knees together, reaching one arm behind to grasp his hip and pull him as deeply into her shaking body as she could, determined to bring him over the edge with her. He came with a fierce groan. The sound of their breath filled the room with harsh sighs. After a moment, Ryan chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist in a loose hug. “My lips are numb. My eyes are stuck shut. I think we’re glued together by sweat. And other things.” Her laugh sounded as weak as his. “Did you mention a Jacuzzi?” Crystal felt him stir inside her. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said. He laughed and separated himself from her. Crystal snuggled into a pillow to fully enjoy the last aftershocks of her amazing, perhaps best-ever, orgasm. Ryan rolled off the bed and padded into the bathroom. When he returned, he threw the comforter over her bare back. She


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sighed, mumbling in protest as he flipped back the top edge to expose her shoulder. “When did you get your tattoo?” he asked, running his finger over her skin. Crystal peered sleepily over her shoulder. “Do you like it? I got it when I started my business. It’s an orchid. Symbol of love, rebirth, maturity, all that good stuff. I thought it was perfect for Get In Touch.” “It’s on your card too,” he observed. “It looks like…” He squinted, tilted his head to the side. She knew what he was seeing. Two plump pink petals rising in a protective hood on either side of a tiny, speckled, thimble-shaped cup. “Umm, well. Am I the only one who thinks it looks like…” His silence lengthened. Crystal let him off the hook. “No. You’re not. Like I said, it’s my symbol.” “It certainly is.” He tucked the blanket in place. “I’m going to fill the tub. Relax. You like it hot?” “You have to ask?” She made her voice an open invitation. “Save it for the Jacuzzi.” Her smile slipped as he left the room. Her heart raced—not with desire or arousal, but with fear. Ryan had blown through her defenses so easily, and she needed protection from the emotional storm she weathered each day. Had she made a mistake? What if she couldn’t control her emotions after he left? You let him in. You want this. Enjoy it for one night. She pushed her doubts away and followed him into the bathroom.

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Ryan collapsed onto the bed and dragged Crystal into his arms. He yanked the covers over them to tent in the warmth of their moist skin. She fit into his side like a natural extension of his body. He sighed, more comfortable than he had ever been in his entire life. He couldn’t imagine going without this kind of physical ecstasy ever again. “Tired?” she asked. He could hear the mockery in her tone and wondered where she got her energy. Unbidden, stories he’d heard about that orgy in the frat house crowded his mind. He pushed the thoughts away. He’d made his choice and it wasn’t fair to hold the past against her. They had both changed, although part of him wished they could go back and do it again differently. He tightened his arms around her, listening to her breathing slow, become steady and deep as she fell asleep. Not tired, huh? He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. Her head was tucked into his neck and her long, smooth thigh was thrown across his legs. Her tattoo gleamed in the moonlight. He lifted one finger to trace the petals. What had she said? It was the symbol of love, rebirth and maturity? Maybe it was the symbol of second chances too. He hoped so, because with Crystal draped across his body like a second, softer skin, he wasn’t going anywhere, especially not the airport. He’d made that mistake once. Suddenly, he was wide awake. His body was exhausted, every muscle heavy as lead, but his brain was humming, spinning, rotating and clicking like a Rubik’s Cube, rearranging the variables in his life. Was there anything on his

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desk that couldn’t be handled from New York? If he needed an office, he could always use Mark’s while he was on his honeymoon. Ryan had his hands tied up in three fledgling enterprises and eight established businesses on the west coast, but he knew Mark had everything he would need to Skype, webinar, teleconference and do whatever he needed to do. He had his laptop and if he needed anything else, he could buy it. What was happening between him and Crystal was special. It was rare, like her orchid. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone in his entire life, and he didn’t want to stop wanting her. He got hard thinking about her, looking at her, smelling her, touching her. He was hard again now. He wasn’t even close to figuring out what it was about her that was so endlessly arousing. As he’d suspected, one night with Crystal wasn’t going to be enough. Until his hunger for her was satisfied, he wasn’t going anywhere.

A muffled knock made Crystal burrow into her pillow. It was bright, too bright. She was tired, but something niggled in the back of her mind, preventing her from falling back to sleep. Wasn’t there something she needed to do this morning? Her heart dropped. Oh, yes. Leave. She opened her eyes and discovered she was alone in bed. The bedroom door was mostly shut, but she could hear voices. For a moment, she reveled in the soft sheets, so clean and crisp they smelled like heat, the goose down pillows floating under her head like fat clouds, the way every muscle in her body hummed as she stretched, once, languorously, enjoying the delicious ache in her nipples and pussy as memories of last night sent blood rushing to her hot zones.

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Now that had been a night to remember. She was sore in places she’d forgotten she had. She pulled a deep breath into her lungs and released it with a sigh before she sat up. It was time to go. She’d accomplished her goal—one night of sex hot enough to burn him out of her blood. One night to drop the reins and let her wayward emotions get their fill so they would shut the hell up and let her get back to her life and her job. She scooted to the edge of the bed just as Ryan opened the door. “Hungry?” he asked. His eyes flashed, giving the question a double meaning. “I’ll get something on the way home.” She wrapped the sheet around her body, noticing he was already half-dressed in khakis. “Are you planning to walk? Because I’m not wasting the breakfast waiting for us in the other room.” She glared at him, outmaneuvered. “You always wake up this grumpy? There’s coffee too.” She felt herself weakening as he moved closer. He tugged the sheet out of her grip and pressed her back into the mattress. His lips were warm and his mouth tasted minty. “Have breakfast with me.” He nuzzled her neck. Crystal’s body swelled to his touch. “I can’t.” “You keep saying that. Why?” Because she wanted to stay. “Because it’s pumpkin time.” “What?” “Clock strikes twelve—it’s time to go. Although I’d say I’m a little more Pretty Woman than Cinderella at the moment, but same difference. Either way, I’ve got to go,” she babbled.


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“What the hell are you talking about?” Ryan asked, looking down at her with a frown. “Do you have to work?” “No, I’m not working today, but we agreed on one night,” she reminded him. “I’m going home now.” He rolled to the side and sat up. “That’s it? We have sex for hours on end, barely sleep, you have a total of,” he counted on one hand, added a few more fingers, “nine orgasms, and now you’re leaving?” “Remind you of anything?” she couldn’t resist asking. She slid out of bed and walked naked into the living room. Damn, that coffee smelled good. So did the bacon. She picked up her dress and slid into it, ignoring her bra and underwear for the moment. “Is this some sort of joke? Some kind of revenge for what happened in college?” His face was incredulous. “Don’t put this on me, Ryan. You came back to New York. You propositioned me. I think I’ve been more than accommodating, considering.” “Considering what?” Considering what happened last time. But she couldn’t say that, so she just stared at him, trying to figure out what she could say to convince him to leave her alone. Their connection was still hot. His emotions were strong, stronger than she could handle on zero sleep and less food. She had to focus on what was best for her, not his confusion or disappointment, not his anger, and certainly not his damn loneliness. He poured a cup of coffee and placed it in her hand. “Talk to me, Crystal. You can deny it all you want, but I know you want me. I want you too. I don’t see a problem here. Let’s eat.” “It isn’t that simple. Last night was amazing, I’m not denying that. But I can’t stay.” Her heart grew cold at the thought of what she was about to say. She

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hated to lie. Lies always came back to bite you on the ass, but she didn’t have a choice. She steeled herself. “Ryan, you let me in. I told you, I can feel your emotions. You wanted me so badly. It was so easy to be swept along…” “You faked it?” His pain was hers, and she decided he deserved the truth, if only half of it. “Of course not. There’s no way I could fake nine orgasms. You are a wonderful lover, but wonderful is not enough to make me want to change my life,” she explained. “I like my life. There’s nothing I want to change.” He shook his head and poured himself a cup of coffee. “It can’t possibly be this good with your girlfriend, Crystal. You left her at the wedding with a hot blond and a stiff drink and never even glanced back on your way out the door.” He took a sip of coffee. Her mouth watered, but she set her cup down on the table and went back into the bedroom to get her shoes. She sat on the bed to put them on and ignored Ryan, standing in the doorway. The emotional overload of the past twenty-four hours was wearing on her last nerve, and her composure was fraying. She was hungry, tired and she wanted nothing more than to sit down and have breakfast with him like a normal person, but she wasn’t a normal person. She was an empath and she needed distance in order to function, distance she couldn’t get from him. She wasn’t sure which was worse, the fact that she couldn’t keep him out of her head or the fact that he made her want things she couldn’t have. Either way, she had to get out of here before she did something stupid, like crawl back in bed and lose herself completely. She stood and walked toward him, keeping her eyes on the center of his bare chest. He blocked the door. “Please move.” When he didn’t budge, she froze, not wanting to touch him.


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He crossed his arms. “Not until you tell me why you’d have to change your life to have breakfast with me. You spent the night, after all. I’d say breakfast is downshifting.” Crystal raised her gaze to his teasing grin. His dark eyes were shining with laughter, smile lines fanning out from the edges. The man was infuriating. And relentless. They weren’t just talking about breakfast and he knew it. And because she’d read his heart last night, she knew his desire for her was underpinned by hurt and anger. She couldn’t blame him for feeling betrayed by what she had done ten years ago. From his perspective, she’d gotten out of bed with him and climbed into the sack with the Alpha Sig brothers. He didn’t know she’d had no control over her actions. He didn’t know it wasn’t her fault. He had no way of knowing unless she told him, and she wasn’t going to do that. If thinking she was a tramp had kept him away then, it would probably work now too. But, oh, it was going to hurt. It was one thing to cultivate the image of a freewheeling sex guru—it was another thing to brand herself a heartless slut. However, she was running out of options. She couldn’t risk the emotional hell she’d barely survived ten years ago. She kept her voice light. “Staying for breakfast isn’t really my style. I would have left last night if you hadn’t worn me out. You have the energy of a dozen men—and I would know, remember?” She moved forward and he drew back, probably to avoid touching her. Lord knew she felt dirty. She quickened her stride as he followed her into the other room. “No, actually,” he said. “I remember a sweet girl who gave me her virginity. That girl would have stayed for breakfast, lunch and dinner. She wasn’t just in it for the sex, and she wouldn’t have jumped into a frat house orgy—but she did,

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right? What happened, Crystal? Why did you do it?” The air held curiosity, not scorn or judgment. “If you’re not going to stay, at least tell me that.” She kept her back to him as she snatched her purse from the desk and composed her expression. She turned toward the door, wishing for the first time that his emotions were more volatile. The cool calculation in his tone was dangerous. Bonita was right. Nothing less than a baseball bat was going to get him to leave her alone. She could almost feel his brain sifting through the pieces of the past, shifting them around in his mind. She had to make sure she didn’t give anything away. Ten more steps and she’d be out the door. Safe. She would never see him again. He kept talking as he followed her. “When I called the frat house that night, I was too young and too hurt to think any further than the obvious. I assumed our night together meant nothing to you. Now you’re trying to skate out the door after another great night, which should convince me I was right, that sex means nothing to you. I mean nothing to you. But I just don’t buy it. I’ve had meaningless sex, lots of it in fact, and it was never like last night. We connect, Crystal, and now that we’re together, I can’t imagine stopping at just one night.” She reached the door and turned to face him, forcing her lips into a smile. “And I can’t imagine having anything more. The girl you knew might not have tackled a frat house, but the woman she has become can handle a fraternity and a sorority too. Sex is my business and my pleasure. I work at Come Again and I make a very good living telling people how to improve their sex lives, for God’s sake! I don’t do relationships, and if I did, it wouldn’t be with you.” She pressed the handle down to open the door. He reached up to hold it shut. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” “The concierge will call me a taxi.” “That’s not what I meant.” His eyes gleamed.


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She took a deep breath. “A goodbye kiss?” Please God, no. He shook his head and pointed over his shoulder. “Your underwear.” “Keep it.” “I don’t collect souvenirs.” He left her standing at the door and returned with her lingerie. She took it from his hand. “Thank you.” Her panties were scraps of ribbon and lace, but the long ties made stuffing them into her purse feel like a parody of the clown scarf trick in reverse. Her purse was tiny, too small to hold her hefty underwire bra, so she had to tuck it under her arm. “Goodbye, Ryan. It was—” She paused. Terrifying. Spectacular. Unforgettable. Memory drifted in the air between them, a hot breeze, an unacknowledged truth. “It was nice to see you.” She opened the door and glanced back at him from the safety of the hotel hall. His eyes were mesmerizing—the laughing eyes that had stopped her in her tracks at the fraternity party so many years ago, the tender eyes that had watched her become a woman, the blind eyes that hadn’t looked back to find her for ten endless years. She couldn’t look away. He raised his hand. “I don’t know what I did that was so awful you won’t even consider giving us a second chance, but it’s only fair to warn you. I’m going to change your mind. What we have is special, Crystal. Rare. Real. I lost you once, but I’m not going to lose you again. Go ahead and run. I’ll catch you later.” Her throat felt tight and her feet felt heavy as she moved down the hall toward the elevator. She knew she was doing the right thing but she felt like a coward, slinking away with her underwear in her purse and her bra under her arm. The breeze beneath her dress gave walk of shame a whole new meaning. Ryan hadn’t listened to a word she’d said. He was going to keep charging, keep pushing, and she was afraid he would discover her secret. If he knew her heartless slut act was all for show, he might not leave her alone. How long before

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her defenses crumbled completely? How long before she gave in to her own desire to keep him close? And how long before he got his fill and left her again?

Ryan lifted a silver plate cover, trying to decide if he still felt like having breakfast. His stomach growled but he didn’t feel hungry. Still, it was a shame to waste good food, so he sat and poured himself another cup of coffee. What the fuck had just happened? He picked up his fork and took a bite of an omelet. It was delicious. Salty feta, sweet tomatoes and spinach really hit the spot. Crystal didn’t know what she was missing. Or maybe, after spending the night with him, she did know what she was missing—and she didn’t want it anymore. He lifted more plate covers until he found the bacon. He’d ordered one of everything, just to make sure she’d have something she liked for breakfast. He chewed a piece of crispy bacon and stared at his plate, replaying their conversation in his head. Something about the way she had looked reminded him of that old joke about lawyers. How do you know when a lawyer is lying? His lips are moving. Going by what she’d said, she was just out for a good time. However, if that were true, why wouldn’t she stay for breakfast? Breakfast was good. Why didn’t she want to crawl back in bed and have more sex? The sex had been better than good—it had been unbelievable. Her lips had shaped those blasé words, but her eyes had held fear. Every instinct told him she was afraid of him, but why? In business, he kept moving ahead until he outpaced the competition or rolled over his opponent, but Crystal didn’t fight or give in—she walked away. Brute force wasn’t going to get him what he wanted from her, but he wasn’t sure what else would do the trick. He needed information, pieces to the puzzle. Perhaps if he could gather enough


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information, he could learn what made her tick and she would confide her fears in him instead of running away from him. What was it that made her such a puzzle? He sipped his coffee and pondered. She was confident—at least, he assumed it took confidence to rock black leather and thigh-high boots when surrounded by women wearing kneelength skirts, low-heeled pumps and pearls. Either she didn’t feel the need to fit in or she liked to make a statement. He stared into his cup, thinking about the past weekend. For someone so self-assured, Crystal sure did have a lot of people watching her back. The girl from Come Again, Destiny, had threatened his balls in the receiving line in a tone of voice that made him dead certain she knew how to do things to the male anatomy that most people had never considered. Mark’s wife, Alisa, had clearly been concerned for her friend, and Crystal’s hot blond date at the wedding last night had given him the once-over so hard he still felt like he had something to prove. If Crystal was so secure, why did she need so many protectors? He grabbed another piece of bacon and went into the bedroom to retrieve his cell phone. Mark was either in the air or in an airport. No harm in giving it a shot. He dialed. Just when he thought it was going to voicemail, Mark picked up. “You better have a good reason for interrupting my shot at the Mile High Club, buddy.” “Screw you. Your cell phone would be off if you were in the air. I’ve got a question.” Mark laughed. “Shoot.” “Does Crystal LaRusso sleep around?” Silence. “Hang on,” he said. Ryan heard talking in the background, then a loud, female exclamation. “What the hell kind of question is that?” Alisa blasted in his ear.

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“Hey, now, settle down. I’m not trying to be an asshole. Crystal just left me all by my lonesome in a beautiful hotel room with eight different breakfast choices spread out on the table. She said she was just here for one night of sex. I don’t buy it, and I was just looking for another opinion.” “Huh,” she grunted, sounding appeased. “Exactly. I’m looking for information. Are you going to give it to me?” “Nope,” she said. Ryan sighed. Mark came back on the line. “The answer is no. She doesn’t sleep around. To the best of my knowledge, Crystal doesn’t even sleep with men.” “Good to know.” She hadn’t been lying about that, at least. “You’re still thinking about that drunken orgy in the frat house, aren’t you? That was a long time ago—” “No, I don’t give a shit about that anymore.” Ryan felt something break loose inside him and drift away. “Good.” Alisa’s voice rose in the background. “Listen, buddy, they just called our flight. I wish I could help you more, but I don’t know Crystal all that well. She keeps to herself. Alisa knows her a lot better, but I’m on my honeymoon. I love you, man, but don’t ask me to piss off my wife right now. Oh, and Alisa says to tell you she’ll kill you if you hurt Crystal.” “Thanks, man. Tell her I got the message. Is it all right with you if I use your office while you’re gone?” “No problem. Make yourself at home. I’ll let my assistant know to expect you.” “Thanks, bro. I appreciate it. Have a good time.” Ryan ended the call and tossed his cell phone onto the bed. It was just as he had suspected. Crystal’s words didn’t match her actions, although she hadn’t


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exactly lied. If she didn’t make a habit of spending the night, then staying for breakfast wouldn’t be a frequent option. He felt a smile spread across his face as he stretched out and tucked his hands behind his head. Was Crystal brave—or full of bravado? After a little nap, he’d go looking for another piece of the puzzle.

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Chapter Eight

Crystal entered the shop by the back door Monday morning and found Bonita waiting for her. “I’m hoping you have a damn good reason for not calling me back all day yesterday.” “I don’t.” She could evade, but she wasn’t going to lie. “I just wasn’t up for chatting.” She’d slept for a long time. She never took clients on Sundays, so her time was her own, but for once she hadn’t relished her solitude. She would have loved to talk to Bonita, but she felt she’d imposed on her enough. Alisa had left for Hawaii. That left her with Destiny, who was going to get a huge piece of her mind the next time she saw her. She could feel Bonita’s cool green eyes taking her measure. “Do you have many clients today? Destiny has the day off, and I could use you on the floor.” Crystal shook her head, still avoiding her eyes. “I cancelled all my clients.” “Why?” “I can’t control my head.” She made a face. “No teleporting as of yet, but every time I open up, I clobber myself with lust, anger or fear.” And loneliness. Don’t forget that one. “I spent yesterday trying to get a grip, but I’m a train wreck. Thank God Ryan left town. I’m hoping if I ignore my emotions, they’ll settle down and I’ll get back to normal.” “I’ve got bad news for you, sweetie.” Crystal swiveled around.

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“Ryan was in here yesterday, and he left that for you.” Bonita pointed at the counter. Crystal walked over to examine the orchid. The dead-looking stalk held a single extravagantly pink bloom. “Did he say anything?” she asked. “He said he’d be back. He didn’t say when.” Bonita considerately kept the pity out of her voice. “There’s a note.” Crystal picked up the tiny florist envelope and opened it. Special. Rare. Real. She groaned. “I’m afraid I’m gonna need that baseball bat.” “At the very least,” Bonita agreed, heading for her office, leaving Crystal to stare at the orchid. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the one on her shoulder, and she was sure that was intentional. Where the hell had Ryan found it? Wegmans didn’t carry this variety. A sigh huffed out of her lungs, startling her. She closed her eyes, focusing inward. A second later, she had something else to fear. She opened her eyes and glared at the orchid. There it was again—a flash of anticipation. A flare of hope. How was she supposed to fight that? Fear was so much easier. She picked up the flower, but she couldn’t bring herself to drop it in the trash. Instead, she carried it to her office before returning to the register to open the shop for the day. So she missed him—big deal. The connection between them, however special, rare and real it might be, was not worth risking everything valuable in her life. Her renegade emotions didn’t change her present circumstances, and they couldn’t change the past. It was better to salvage what she had—her sanity and a successful career. No matter what Ryan had said, he wouldn’t stick around Norton forever, especially if she refused to see him. She would stay the course until he returned to his life in California and left her alone. Even without looking inward, she felt despair drag at her heart. Oh, hell. This would have been a whole lot easier if he hadn’t told her he’d called the frat

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house. That fact made her heart feel like a fresh bruise. So what if he had cared enough to call? It hadn’t taken much to drive him away. She could do it again— and when he was gone, she’d be glad. She looked down at her crossed arms. Her jaw felt wired shut, her lips were pressed into a firm line and her eyes were burning. Her shoulders were so tense, they hovered near her ears. If she were a client, this would be the moment when she would say Really? Are you sure about that? Yes, damn it. She took a deep breath and emptied her mind of all thoughts. She built a solid wall around her emotions. Impervious. Comforting. Her nerves calmed. There, that was better. When the front door opened and the bell tinkled, she was able to look up with a smile, but Ryan’s answering grin shook her. He had a coffee in one hand, another orchid balanced under his arm and a laptop bag over his shoulder. He walked up to the counter and set the coffee, another hot mocha, in front of her. He placed the orchid next to it. Frozen, she stared at the dozens of tiny yellow flowers that looked like diminutive baby butterflies hovering in the branches of a Charlie Brown tree. It was beautiful. He dug into his pocket and she heard a rattle. He lined up a third item on the counter. “Ibuprofen?” “You keep saying I give you a headache.” His thoughtfulness made her tremble. “I haven’t changed my mind, Ryan.” He nodded. “I haven’t changed mine, either. I’m not going anywhere. I’d love to take you out for dinner tonight.” She shook her head. “Lunch?” “No thank you.”


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He sighed. “Okay, then. You know where I’m staying.” He leaned across the counter and kissed her cheek. Her wall remained intact, which meant the loneliness she felt was her own. When he reached the door, she took a breath. “Wait, how long are you staying?” Ryan looked over his shoulder and his grin was a lit match dropped at her feet. “As long as it takes.”

The door to Come Again closed behind him. Ryan kept walking, down the street, past the coffee shop. He had given his card to the owner when he picked up Crystal’s mocha. Since he was going to be in Norton for a while, there was no reason not to do what he did best—build a business. He nodded at the florist arranging buckets of flowers on the corner of Mark’s block, but he didn’t stop to chat again. His order was all set. A month’s worth of rare orchids would arrive, and the florist had promised to tend them. Ryan would pick one up every morning and take it to Come Again. He also planned to wait for Crystal to emerge from the shop after work every day. He figured the three-hour time difference between New York and California would give him hours to explore the downtown area. Just yesterday, he’d discovered several intriguing art galleries with upcoming exhibits and quite a few bars with live music. Crystal had said no to lunch and dinner, but maybe he could tempt her with art and music. He hoped if her day began and ended with him, maybe she would let him share the middle too. He hadn’t found any more pieces to the Crystal puzzle at Come Again yesterday afternoon. Bonita and Destiny had formed a stone wall cockblock that was both friendly and impenetrable. He wasn’t getting to her through them. Fine

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with him. He preferred the direct approach anyway. Either he would wear Crystal down or she would have him arrested for stalking. He entered the revolving door to Mark’s building and took the elevator to the SoloPlay offices. He had met Jessica, Mark’s assistant, at the wedding, so it didn’t feel strange to commandeer his office. He set up his laptop and began his morning routine. He could carry on with his business indefinitely from Norton, but he hoped Crystal caved sooner rather than later. He wouldn’t drop a ball or miss a meeting, but he felt empty inside in a place he hadn’t known he had. Work was simple, but his heart might become a problem.

At the end of her shift, Crystal looked through the front window and saw Ryan standing at the curb, leaning against that ridiculously sexy car. She left through the back exit, even though her own car was parked out front. Cowardly? Yes. Necessary? Even more so. She didn’t feel like going home to more solitude. Instead, she took the train to Downtown, hoping to find Destiny, who usually spent her off hours there, helping her boyfriend Johnny run the bar. Crystal was looking for peace and quiet, although she didn’t want to be alone. Those in the Lifestyle tended to be very considerate of boundaries, both physical and mental. The Dominants controlled their emotions as a matter of course, and the submissives were naturally respectful. At Downtown and Upstairs, no one tried to rattle her cage. Mac lowered his shades as she entered the vestibule. The big bouncer took her ID but he didn’t take his eyes off her boots. “That is a very pretty pink,” he said. She dipped her shoulder toward him. “Matches my tattoo. I couldn’t resist. Is Destiny here?” she asked.


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He nodded and handed her driver’s license back to her. “At the bar. Have fun.” She reached out to tug one of his copper dreadlocks. “Did you ask him out yet?” Mac growled, “Quit it, Crystal. I didn’t invite you into my head.” “Just asking.” Mac crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Not gonna happen.” The edge of his emotions beckoned to her, but she wasn’t going to go there. He was right. He hadn’t invited her. “Chicken.” She blew him a kiss and walked into the bar. She scanned the room, immediately spotting Destiny at the bar. She also spotted the object of Mac’s affection in the sub corner, trying to pretend like he hadn’t just snuck a peek at the bouncer who was pointedly not looking into the bar. Those two were nuts. Crystal made her way to the circular bar and sat on the stool next to Destiny. “I have a bone to pick with you.” Destiny shut her newspaper. “Oh, goody.” “You should have warned me Ryan was my four-thirty consult the other day. Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t know it was him. I could tell something was up.” Destiny grinned. “He begged me not to tell you.” Crystal dropped her head into her hands. Of course Destiny hadn’t been able to resist him. Her weakness for curly-haired blond men was the stuff of legends at Downtown. Crystal heard Johnny’s voice above her. “Man, you should have seen it. She was about thirty seconds away from putting him on his knees in the receiving

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line. Gave me a hard-on.” She looked up and Johnny cocked an eyebrow at her, pointing at the shot of tequila in front of Destiny. Crystal shuddered, so he set a glass of water on the bar instead. “A little warning would have been appreciated,” Crystal said. “Sorry about that. He seemed like a nice guy, and I figured we’d catch up with you at the reception.” Crystal felt her cheeks flush. They hadn’t stayed at the reception long enough to catch up with anybody. Destiny gave her an apologetic smile. “Just so you know, we didn’t tell him a thing when he came into the shop yesterday. What’s the story with him?” She made a shooing motion at her boyfriend. “Beat it, Johnny. Girl talk.” He fixed her with a piercing look. “Just so you know, you’re going to pay for that later.” They shared a look before Johnny headed for the other side of the bar and Destiny turned back to Crystal. “Spill it.” If anybody could understand her emotional pickle it was Destiny, the badass Domme who only switched for Johnny, but Crystal had come here to be left alone. “I really don’t want to hash it over again.” “Just hit me with the salient details and I’ll quit bugging you,” Destiny promised. Crystal crossed her arms. “No more meddling?” “Cross my heart.” That made it worth a brief discussion. If Ryan came by the shop again, she might need Destiny for cover. “I can’t block him.” “That’s a bad thing?” “It is when I can’t work. Every time I open up with a client, I get clobbered by my own damn emotions. I can’t think straight.” She also couldn’t stop thinking about him.


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Destiny looked like she was trying not to laugh. “Now you know what it’s like for the rest of the world, those of us without the benefit of your emotional compass.” “Benefit?” “Yes, benefit. Most people live in doubt and mystery, second-guessing themselves and other people. You don’t have to do that. You always know how everybody feels, and don’t try to pretend it doesn’t make your life easier. You get to coast along in your safe little bubble, watching the rest of us drown in our emotional swamps. I don’t hold it against you, but it’s hard to feel sorry for you.” Crystal absorbed her words and the emotion behind them before she even realized what she was doing. “Damn it.” Destiny wasn’t trying to be a bitch. She’d said it as nicely as her straightforward personality would allow. And she was right. “I have no idea how I feel about Ryan.” “If you don’t know how you feel about him, it’s because you don’t want to know.” Destiny met her gaze without backing down an inch. “Right?” Crystal took a deep breath. “Maybe.” Destiny glanced across the bar at Johnny. He turned around, as if he had felt her gaze caressing him, and Crystal acknowledged a sharp thrust of envy at the bond between them. Destiny turned back to her. “Change isn’t always bad. I survived.” “It’s a little different for me,” Crystal reminded her. “Let me ask you this. Are you happy? Not now—I mean generally speaking. Do you live your life full of butterflies and glee?” Nope, not even close. She lived her life in the eye of the storm, trying to avoid extremes. “I don’t want butterflies. I want balance.” “Balance is for wimps. You are not a wimp.” Destiny stood. “C’mon, let’s go Upstairs and find some action. I’ll even top a girl tonight out of solidarity.”

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Crystal didn’t move. The idea held zero appeal. Destiny gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Just checking.” She dropped back down on her stool. Crystal reached across the bar and dragged Destiny’s tequila shot toward her. She took a sniff, then knocked it back. She looked at Destiny. “Are you happy?” “Joyous.” Destiny’s grin was backed up by a flash of wicked exuberance. “Join me on the bright side.” Did staying balanced mean she would always be alone? For the first time since she had started feeling other people’s emotions, she wasn’t sure staying shielded was going to solve her problems. But the prospect of doing anything else scared her to death.


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Chapter Nine

Ryan jumped as his car door opened, hoping it was finally Crystal, throwing him a bone. Instead, Destiny’s tough-guy boyfriend dropped into the seat beside him and shut the door. “You poor bastard.” His grin was patronizing as hell. Ryan eyed him and said nothing. “Destiny says you sit out here every night waiting for Crystal.” “So what?” It was enough that she knew he was there. “And you deliver coffee and flowers every morning.” “And your point is?” “Smother people much?” “Considering Crystal won’t give me the time of day, I think I’ve been patient and restrained.” “Your strategy sucks.” Jesus, the guy was blunt. And pissing him off. He debated the wisdom of taking a shot at a guy who had tattoos down to the wrist on each arm, a ring in his eyebrow, a half-dozen studs in his ear, and an air about him that told Ryan he would enjoy a fight. Worth it? Yes, but not in the Cayman. Too restrictive. Ryan turned to face him head-on, but the guy held up a hand. “Simmer down, frat boy. I’m trying to help you.” “Then you better say something helpful pretty fucking fast or I’m going to kick your condescending ass out of this car and up and down the street.”

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Anything would be better than waiting outside Come Again every day for two weeks and getting his ass whipped without exchanging a word or a blow. The guy laughed. “Since you asked so nicely, don’t mind if I do. Crystal is an empath. She senses emotions. I don’t consider myself particularly sensitive, but you’re giving off so much heat, even I can feel it. I’m not sure why I give a shit, but if you want to get anywhere with Crystal, you better dial it back, buddy. She’s used to blocking people, and I guarantee the harder you beat on her door, the tighter she’s going to lock it. Give it a rest, man. Maybe even get out of town for a while. She needs a break.” “How come you know so much about Crystal?” Ryan asked, suspicion making him angrier. “Because she spends every night at my bar, trying not to talk about you.” “Really?” The word popped out before he could censor his hope. “Where is this bar?” “I’m not going to tell you until you agree to control your damn emotions. You’ll sign a waiver at the door, but I don’t want any trouble.” “A waiver? Seriously? What kind of bar is it?” “Hang on, let me get my girl and I’ll tell you over dinner. You’re buying and I’m driving your car.” He said it like it was an order, but he waited for Ryan to agree to his demand and the gleam in his eyes let him in on the joke. Ryan had a feeling he knew what kind of a bar the man owned. The leather and tattoos, the shaved head and piercings, Destiny’s dreadlocks and fierce attitude began to make sense. He ducked his head in a curt nod. “It’s a deal.” The guy held out his hand. “Johnny Delcorral.” “Ryan Anderson.” They shook hands, and Johnny climbed out of the car. Ryan felt a wry smile twist his lips. Now he was getting somewhere.


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Crystal glanced over her shoulder and saw Destiny entering the bar, followed by Johnny. She swiveled back around and sipped her drink, waiting for them to make their way across the room to her. “About time,” she said as Johnny finally ducked under the gate and Destiny dropped onto a stool next to her. She’d been at Downtown waiting for them for an hour already. She glanced over as someone sat on her other side. Ryan gave her a tight-edged smile. Her heart lurched and began racing. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Stepping it up a notch.” She frowned, trying to figure out what was different about him. He was wearing the same dark gray suit he’d been wearing this morning when he dropped off her coffee and a black orchid that looked like a baby vampire bat. The note said still waiting. So many flowers had arrived over the last week and a half that the shop was beginning to look like a rain forest, shelves stashed with unexpected bursts of outrageous color and spare beauty. Since she hated to waste good coffee and the double hit of caffeine had been giving her a headache, she’d stopped her customary visit to Tim Hortons every morning. Wait…that was it. Ryan wasn’t giving her a headache. In fact, he wasn’t giving off any surface emotions at all. Were his morning visits and the flowers around the shop acting as desensitization therapy? Was she getting used to him? He reached out to run his finger along the shoulder strap of her dress, dipping to trace a path across her cleavage. Her nipples peaked under the warm metal mesh of the dress and she had to concentrate to keep her breathing even and light. She couldn’t do anything about the fast beat of her heart, and by the

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way his finger paused to tap the telltale pulse at her throat, she knew she wasn’t fooling him. Nope, she wasn’t getting used to him physically, at least. “You said no more meddling,” she accused Destiny. “Wasn’t me,” Destiny retorted. She leveled a finger at Johnny. “It was him.” Johnny shrugged. “He’s a natural. I hate to waste good raw material.” Natural? A natural what? His three-piece suit didn’t exactly scream deviant. Crystal watched Ryan’s eyes linger on the sub corner then travel to the tables, where the Dominants and kinksters were gearing up for Saturday night. Some of them were members Upstairs and would take their play up to Johnny’s private club. Others would pick a partner and head out for the night or hang out in the bar. What did Ryan think of her world? A slow grin lit his face. “You said there’s an upstairs?” Johnny nodded. “Members-only, but I’ll let Destiny take you up if you’re interested. It’s orgy night. Can you handle that, frat boy?” “Sure,” Ryan said easily, not seeming to take offense at the casual insult. “But it would be nice to have a guided tour. Can Crystal come too?” At Johnny’s curt nod, he turned to her. “That’s what you’re into, right? Orgies? You did say you could take on a frat house and a sorority. I wouldn’t mind giving that a try.” Her heart beat a slow thunder in her ears as he threw down the gauntlet. She felt cold, nearly frozen, even when Destiny took her hand and squeezed it. “He’s awfully cocky for someone wearing so many clothes,” she whispered. “Let’s take him Upstairs, strip him down and make him put his money where his mouth is.” The sexy go-for-broke dynamic of orgy night always reminded Crystal of how out of control and lonely she had been that night in the frat house and how ashamed she had been afterwards—but Destiny didn’t know anything about her past. What would happen if she put herself in the middle of another orgy? Panic? Arousal?


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They were all looking to her, waiting for her answer. She felt a trickle of cold sweat run down the underside of her arm. Could she handle the surging emotions of the crowd long enough to finally convince Ryan he was wasting his time? Not only handle it, but participate? She shivered. Ryan put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into the warmth of his body. She looked up at him, growing colder. The last time she had been in a room full of sexual energy, she had ached for him. This time she would have him, but it was too late. Too much had changed and she needed to get her life back on track. Maybe this was the way to do it. She forced herself to stand up and give Ryan a slow smile. “Sounds like a good time to me.”

Ryan stifled a sigh of relief. He had been afraid she’d run again. Instead she led the way across the bar. He hoped that meant he was doing a good job keeping his emotions to himself. It wasn’t easy, though. During his morning stops at Come Again, they had the counter between them. There was nothing keeping them apart now except air and clothes, and her dress was made out of woven chains that rippled provocatively over her body. He wanted to run his hands over her curves and see if the dress was cool, or warm from her body heat. Curiosity was driving him crazy, but he forced himself to remain calm and in control. Control was the key, as Johnny had explained over dinner. Ryan was willing to master the finer points of BDSM etiquette later, if that was something Crystal enjoyed. For now, it was enough to know that she might let him near her if he was, as Destiny had put it, a good boy. He followed the women down a short hallway and watched Destiny draw a key out of the pocket of her leather skirt. She unlocked a door and they

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continued up a staircase. Ryan heard music and felt a bass line reverberating in the walls and under his feet. There was another door at the top of the stairs. Destiny held it open and motioned them through. He was half-hard from watching Crystal climb the stairs in front of him, and when the room came into focus, he sucked in a quick breath. He heard Destiny laugh, and when he looked over at her, she already had her hand tangled in the long blond hair of a mostly naked man, forcing him to his knees in front of her. “I thought she was with Johnny,” he said, surprised. A tense smile lifted Crystal’s lips. “Apparently, there’s love…and then there’s recreation.” He glanced back at Destiny and found her looking at him. Be good, she mouthed. He rolled his eyes. Control, right. He turned his attention to Crystal, wondering why she wasn’t diving into the middle of the naked pile of bodies writhing on the sectional couch. Or the leather chaise lounges. Or the table. This was where she had spent the last two weeks? There was nothing about her expression or body language that made him believe she wanted to join the crowd. She wasn’t even looking at anybody. Still, if she hung out in the leather bar downstairs, or up here in this crazy sex club, she must be into it. For her, he’d give it a try. “C’mon.” He took her hand and discovered it was cold. He rubbed warmth into her fingers with both his palms and pulled her toward the couch. She followed slowly, allowing him to position her between his thighs as he sat on the arm of the couch, just at the edge of the fray. She shivered as he cupped her breasts through her slinky dress. The metal was warm, he discovered. God, he loved the weight of her breasts in his hands. He reached for the thin shoulder straps and slid them down, baring her nipples.


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He sat, looking but not touching, reminding himself to stay in control. Crystal needed him in control. He lifted his gaze to her face. Her eyes were shut and there was a light sheen of sweat on her face, far more than arousal could explain. Cautiously, he grasped her tight waist, then explored the tense muscles of her buttocks and thighs. He ran his hands over the icy skin of her arms, stopping to hold her hands in both of his. “Crystal?” he asked. “Are you all right?” Eyes shut, she nodded, but he didn’t believe her. Why was she lying? She was far from all right. He didn’t know how he had expected her to behave in the middle of an orgy, but it wasn’t like this. He squeezed her hands. “Open your eyes.” Her eyes blinked open, wide and unfocused. She was breathing in short, shallow pants. Her eyelids fluttered and she swayed. Quickly, he switched places with her on the couch, forcing her head between her knees. He kneeled on the floor in front of her. “Breathe with me,” he said softly, inhaling and exhaling in steady breaths. She continued to gasp. “Breathe,” he commanded, embracing her. “You can do it. Just focus on me.” He held her close, stroking her hair and murmuring words of reassurance. Gradually, her breathing slowed to an even rhythm. When he was pretty sure she could sit up without passing out, he shifted to sit next to her on the couch and pulled her into his lap. He ignored the brush of bare bodies and tightened his arms around her. “What was all that about?” She looked up at him, dark eyes filled with uncertainty. Her breasts were still bare and her dress had ridden up to the top of her thighs. He brushed a kiss across her forehead and settled the straps of her dress back on her shoulders. As

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Johnny had suggested at dinner, he imagined a force field between him and Crystal, separating their emotions. A sob broke from her throat and two fat tears ran down her face. She buried her face in his chest and clung. “That’s it—we’re getting out of here.” He shifted his grip to balance her weight and pushed to his feet, carrying her. When he reached the door, he found Destiny blocking it. “Too much for her?” she asked. “I don’t know, but she’s not having a good time. We’re leaving.” Destiny’s eyes narrowed and he returned her glare. “Open the damn door. You have my word that I will not do anything to hurt her, and I will take her wherever she wants to go.” Destiny didn’t budge. “Don’t make me go through you,” he growled. “It’s okay.” Crystal’s broken whisper made him clutch her tighter. Destiny eased back and opened the door. “This is your last chance, buddy.” “Noted.” He stepped past her.

Crystal kept her face buried in Ryan’s neck, glad when Johnny and Mac let them leave without asking any questions. Ryan set her on her feet to unlock the car, keeping one arm around her waist. “I’m all right now,” she said, as he helped her into the car and buckled her seatbelt. He pulled out of the parking lot and drove, heading for the river. She said nothing, although she wondered why he wasn’t heading for his hotel or asking her where she lived. He reached over to take her hand and held it in his lap. His fingers were warm as he caressed her hand, making her sigh. “Sorry about that,” she said. “Not a problem.”


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He didn’t seem inclined to say more, so she went back to her thoughts, edging closer to something she felt but didn’t understand. Upstairs, she had completely locked up, unable to think or move. The desires of the crowd had called to her, making her emotions rise, a terrifying swell of lust mixed with loneliness. She wanted nothing more than to reach out to Ryan—but she was afraid. A sick feeling shifted in her stomach. She hadn’t been channeling his feelings. His emotions hadn’t scared her. She had been fighting her own desire to take him in, to trust him, to let go of her barriers, the barriers that kept her whole, safe and sane…and alone. “You sure you’re all right?” he asked when she sighed again. “Yeah, just thinking.” A few minutes later, they pulled into a driveway. “Where are we?” she asked. “I rented a house. It seemed silly to spend more than a couple nights in a hotel.” He pressed a button to open the garage door. He parked and turned off the motor, but he didn’t get out of the car. Instead, he turned to her. “Give me a chance, Crystal.” Emotion throbbed beneath the words and she followed it, lifting her hand to stroke his cheek. The desire, anger and loneliness were still there, but she felt resistance. Was he learning to block her? Is that why he felt different tonight? She pushed deeper—and found something more heartbreaking than loneliness. A hope that matched her own. “You scare me to death,” she whispered, with a soft, helpless laugh. He leaned to brush her lips with his. “I’m not trying to scare you,” he said. “I just want to be close to you. I need to be near you, and I’ll take you on any terms

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you choose.” He rained soft kisses over her face. “Spend another night with me, Crystal.” Another night. Oh, yes, she wanted to stay with him. She yearned for him. She couldn’t keep him on the outside and it was pointless to run or hide, as the last few weeks had proved. She couldn’t hide from herself, and he wouldn’t leave her alone. Eventually he’d leave—she had no illusions about that. But she’d run out of ideas to hasten the process. He didn’t scare easily, and it was becoming impossible to ignore him. Her heart began to thud as she considered another option—the truth. He’d run like hell if she told him exactly how much he had meant to her. Yes, the truth was a much better weapon than her lies. It would drive him away far more effectively than any circumstance she could contrive. And if it didn’t? Doubt made her head spin again. She’d left a message on her Get In Touch voicemail saying she was on vacation, but she couldn’t vacation indefinitely. She needed to get back to work. Buzz might be building because of her inaccessibility, but that wouldn’t last forever. The only call she had answered this week was Darla’s, and she was so grateful Darla was willing to give her another chance. If Ryan wasn’t gone by then… She’d tried—and failed—to reach past the tangle of her own emotions several times during the past two weeks. Each time she opened her heart enough to feel, she got caught in a web of confusion. She needed Ryan to leave her alone, and if the truth was the only way to make it happen, so be it. She unbuckled her seatbelt. “Let’s go in the house and get comfortable.” His eyes gleamed. “Does comfortable mean naked?” “That too,” she said.


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Chapter Ten

Ryan handed her a glass of wine and sat next to her on the couch. The house had been a real find, fully furnished, just the right size and right on the Niagara River. He’d immediately felt at home and hoped the owners were considering his offer to buy it, especially now that he saw Crystal gazing around the room with frank approval. She leaned closer to him and took his hand. It was the first time she had willingly touched him since they had spent the night together, and it made his heart slam in his chest. Was she finally going to open up to him? She took a sip of her wine and set the glass on the coffee table. He did the same, watching her. She seemed different, on edge, yet also in her element. The play of her fingers in his was deliberately arousing and he waited to see what she would do next. A slow, sensual smile curved her lips and he didn’t resist when she pulled him down for a kiss. Control, he reminded himself. Her mouth opened and her tongue sought his, inviting him to play. He closed his eyes and let her set the pace, focusing entirely on the brush of her lips, the touch of her tongue and the rhythm of her warm breath. An unhurried sense of expectancy built between them, and he enjoyed that too. He wasn’t in a rush. They had all night. He wrapped his hand in her hair, delighted by the way her long curls spooled around his wrist. He cupped her face and worshipped her mouth with his. Stroking lower, he felt her pulse beat hard and fast against his palm—too hard and fast.

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He opened his eyes, concerned, and saw her eyes were wide and dark. Her pupils were dilated, but it wasn’t arousal that made her breath come fast in her throat. “Crystal? Please tell me what’s bothering you.” She cleared her throat and met his gaze steadily, allaying his fear that she was having another panic attack. “I’m not really an orgy kind of girl.” She sounded so wistful that he smiled, in spite of his worry. “Just you and me here. Nobody else.” “I know, but it was always you and me, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.” She reached for her wineglass and took a sip. He resisted the urge to pull her closer, afraid she’d stop talking if he made any sudden moves. “I became an empath after I spent the night with you, Ryan.” He felt the breath whoosh out of his lungs. She gave him an understanding nod. “I know it’s hard to believe, but that’s what happened. I woke up to a different world. You left town and when you didn’t call, I went looking for someone who might have your number. I walked into the frat party and ended up on the ping-pong table. It wasn’t something I would have chosen.” The agony in her eyes made his chest hurt. “I’m so sorry, Crystal. I don’t care about the past. If I hadn’t been so young, I wouldn’t have cared then, either—” “No, you had every right to be upset. If the situation had been reversed, I would have been mad as hell to find you screwing a bunch of sorority sisters, but I couldn’t control myself. It was weeks before I could shield my emotions. I missed you desperately and the Alpha Sig brothers…” She trailed off, took another sip of wine. “Every time I let a man touch me, all I could see, hear and feel…was you. That’s why I stopped sleeping with men. Don’t get me wrong—I like women, but I’ve never felt the way I felt with you that night. Alisa was the closest I ever came to falling in love again, but I gave her to Mark.” “I wish you had called me,” he said, aching.


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“I wish you hadn’t lost your cell phone, but that doesn’t change the past. It doesn’t change the present, either. I can’t block you, Ryan. Even with my shield up, you get in. I appreciate the effort you are taking to control your emotions, but it doesn’t make it any easier to control mine. I need distance to function. I have to stay balanced to run my business, and I can’t do that with you around.” One step forward, two steps back. She’d opened up to him, then manufactured one more reason they couldn’t be together. He took a long drink of wine and focused on the one thing she had said that gave him hope. Again. She said Alisa was the closest she ever came to falling in love again. So that meant she had been in love with him—and if he had any say in the matter, she would be again. “Fine,” he said, deciding to change his tactic. “Do you need to work tonight?” Slowly, she shook her head. He reached for her wineglass and set it on the table. Sticking around had gotten him exactly nowhere with her. Well, he’d gained another night, but judging from the haunted look in her eyes, she’d be gone come morning. He wanted more than one night—he wanted all of them. Staying in Norton hadn’t won her heart, so maybe it was time to leave for a while. He had hoped controlling his emotions would give Crystal enough space, but maybe Johnny was right. Perhaps he should leave her alone for a while. Where would he go? Back to California? He wasn’t sure he could bear to be that far away from her. After all, she’d only asked him to go away, not leave the state. Whether he left town or not, he’d make sure Crystal thought he was leaving for good. Maybe the thought of his permanent absence would shock her into missing him enough to make room for him in her heart. This time he wouldn’t

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lose his cell phone and he knew damn well she had his number by now. Would she use it? God, he hoped so. He pulled her into his lap, settling her astride him. If he had to leave her, he was damn well going to make this a night they would both remember. Thanks to his frequent stops at Come Again, he had a dozen new toys to use for inspiration. “You promised me another night,” he reminded her.

Crystal gasped as Ryan shifted beneath her. His tongue traced a line of fire across the top of her breasts. Raw, aching hunger consumed her. When his hand crept up her thigh and his thumb teased the edge of her panties, she pressed forward, arching her back, wordlessly begging him to deepen the touch. She wanted him to take her, touch her, fill the emptiness inside her. She had told him the truth and he still wanted to spend the night with her. Why wasn’t he running? She gripped his shoulders and tightened her thighs around his hips, rocking against him. Desire. Loneliness. Hope. He met her impatience with cool force. His thumb slid inside her body, stroking a fast rhythm. His other hand pressed into her belly. Pleasure rolled from her center in tight waves and she began to spiral, higher and higher. He took her up fast, and she whimpered as her body broke around him. She abandoned herself to sensation, allowing his hands to carry her through the sharp peaks. When the last ripple of pleasure drifted through her, she opened her eyes, bewildered by the need that still racked her body. He stared back at her calmly. She leaned down to kiss him, and he responded with his mouth, but she felt no echo of emotion. The man was a fast learner, too fast. She couldn’t block him,


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but apparently he’d learned to block her. She didn’t like it. Had she come to count on his desire for her? She’d ponder that irony later. Right now, she wanted more from him. How long could he hold her at bay? She slid out of his lap and reached for the zipper of her chain mail dress. It fell heavily to the floor. She watched his throat work as he looked at her bare breasts. That was more like it. She hooked her thumbs in the top of her thong and slowly pushed it down over her hips. She left her shoes on, smiling as she remembered his fantasy from their night in the hotel. She dropped to her knees in front of him and reached for the button of his pants. His hands caught hers, but she batted them away and eased his zipper down. She reached through the opening of his boxers and found his cock. She watched his eyes, already losing some of the reserve he was working so hard to maintain. His jaw clenched. She bent her head and took him in her mouth. She stayed near the tip, licking salt from him. She wasn’t going to rush this. She was going to make him wait, and slowly drive him further and further away from his newfound restraint. She didn’t want control from him—she wanted him as desperate as she was. She flattened her tongue and laved the underside of his cock, rubbing hard, just under the head. She reached for his hands, lacing her fingers through his and keeping them where she wanted them, at his sides. Taking him deeper, she swirled her tongue, sucking, then bobbing up and down. She hummed, enjoying his scent, his taste and the way he felt firm against her tongue and the inside of her mouth. Squeezing his wrists to let him know she expected them to stay flat on the couch, she shifted to cup his balls with one hand. The other she wrapped around the base of his cock. She slicked her palm up and down in a hard caress, making him groan, and moved her tongue in a circle, increasing the motion of her hand.

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His back arched and she felt the exact moment he gave up. His control disintegrated. Raw need drew her to him and she welcomed it. His hands gripped her head and she gave him what he wanted, took him to the back of her throat and sucked hard. His hips thrust toward her, nearly choking her, and she tightened her grip on him, filled with relief and satisfaction. He stilled and she breathed, fluttering her tongue against him and drawing another long moan from his throat. She had him now. Anytime she wanted him. He gripped her shoulders. “Let me come inside,” he whispered roughly. She raised her head. “You’re already inside. That’s what I keep telling you.” His eyes blazed. “You say that and yet…” He shook his head and took a deep breath. She watched his expression tighten, then gasped as his emotions slipped out of reach again. “What do I have to do, Crystal? What is it going to take to convince you this is real?” He tipped forward, taking her down to the floor. The carpet was soft against her back as he rocked against her, fitting his angles into her curves, teasing her until she was breathless. She clutched his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. She needed to fill the emptiness, she needed to feel him inside her…goddamn it, she needed something. “It doesn’t get any more real than this,” she whispered. He pressed her hands to the floor on either side of her head and kissed her with an intensity that shook her to her core. Then he tugged her legs from around his waist, rolled to the side and stood. Her heart pounded as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it drop. He kicked off his shoes and socks and shed the rest of his clothes. “I think it does,” he said. “Want to find out?”


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She stared up at him, dry-mouthed. He never stopped pushing, never stopped trying to get inside her head. But wasn’t that what she wanted? Hadn’t she just been dying to have him inside her? He wasn’t running away. What if he wasn’t going to run at all? A shudder ripped through her, and she moaned as hope broke free deep inside her, a fracture she could no longer control. His grin was wicked. “I’m going to take that as a yes.” She nodded and took the hand he held out to her, following him down the hall to a large bedroom. This room matched what she’d seen of the rest of the house, gorgeous wood floors, bright fabrics and modern art on the white walls. She sucked in a breath as she noticed the low dresser was piled with very familiar bags. “I never saw you buy anything at the store.” “Because you hid from me on your lunch hour.” He pulled items out of bags and tossed them onto the bed. Pink fur-lined handcuffs. Silk rope. A blindfold. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the spreader bar. “I’m sensing a theme here.” He shrugged. “A man has a lot of interesting fantasies when the woman he wants keeps running away from him.” She had a fantasy too, but it didn’t require props. Just him. And her. And a terrifying amount of trust. She reached up to touch his face, brushing her thumb over the lines that appeared at the corner of his eyes when he smiled at her. Aside from what had happened ten years ago, had he given her any reason not to trust him? He’d stayed in Norton and come to the store every day. He’d given her ibuprofen and made an effort to control his emotions. He’d carried her out of an orgy, for God’s sake. Special. Rare. Real.

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She stepped away from him, kicked off her shoes and crawled onto the kingsize bed. When she reached the pillows, she turned over and made herself comfortable, folding her arms behind her head, hiding her nerves behind a teasing smile. “Do I look like I’m running away?” He picked up the rope and moved to the head of the bed. “Forgive me for making absolutely certain of that.” She watched him secure her wrists to the iron headboard. “Boy Scout?” she asked, bemused by his fast, tight knots. “Sailor.” Of course. He probably had a boat or several docked at home in sunny California. Doubt made her scramble to put distance between them, but there was no give in the ropes. “Too tight?” he asked, checking her bonds. She shook her head. Her circulation was fine. Her shield was another matter. It was riddled with cracks because he wasn’t even trying to block her now. His white-hot desire made answering heat surge through her in helpless waves. She closed her eyes, growing wetter as he drew her legs apart and wrapped her ankles with soft rope. She heard a bag rustle and her eyes blinked open. He held up a SoloPlay Screamer, the exact model she preferred. She kicked against the ropes but found her ankles were bound as expertly as her wrists. “There is no way you picked that out by yourself.” “Of course I did. According to the package, every woman needs to scream once in a while.” He dropped it back into the bag. “Maybe later. I want to be the one to make you scream right now.” He put the bag on the dresser, and when he turned around, she saw a box of condoms in his hand.


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He ripped it open, separated one and tossed the rest of them onto the bedside table. “We’re going to need all of these. If I’ve only got you for a night, I’m going to make the most of it.” She opened her mouth to protest but he bent to kiss her, sweeping inside, stroking his tongue against hers. At the same instant, he thrust two fingers inside her body in a hard caress. Desire consumed her. He added a third finger and did something with his thumb that felt so good she spread her legs impossibly wide. She panted against his lips, caught by the ropes, his hand and his blinding need for her. Thought became impossible. Speech was a memory. She screamed, fighting to get closer to him. Every muscle in her body tensed as her climax hit. She arched off the bed, clenching. Excruciating pleasure rushed through her in hard spasms, and she whimpered when he took his hand away. She reached for him, but her hands were held fast by the ropes. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged, desperate for more of him. “I’m not going anywhere.” She felt the truth of his words down to her foundation. He sheathed himself with a condom and settled his weight on top of her, pinning her to the bed. She couldn’t move, yet she felt more free than she had in a decade. She gazed up at him, trembling with anticipation, and reached for him in the only way she could. Mahogany eyes, warm, like bittersweet chocolate. He was braced over her, waiting, holding her gaze with infinite tenderness. Her soul opened, enveloped him. Her consciousness spun out around them as he slid inside. She felt her cracks widen. Her shield shattered and her walls crumbled to the ground. There was nothing left to hide, no barriers between them and no way to escape. He filled her—body and mind, heart and soul. With a soft cry, she surrendered. She gave him everything and he gave it back to her, setting her on

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fire from the inside out, just as she had known he would. Her world exploded and he burned with her, holding her tight. When the flames were gone, he reached up and tugged sharply at the knots around her wrists, freeing her hands. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, never wanting to let him go.


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Chapter Eleven

The smell of coffee roused her from slumber. She rolled over and stretched. What a fabulous night. Holy God, Ryan had made love like a man possessed. Every inch of her skin felt touched, changed, as if she had sloughed off yet another incarnation of Crystal and become…what? Fearless? Invincible? For the first time in weeks, her head felt steady. Another scent drifted down the hall. Was that bacon? Hell yes, she was staying for breakfast. She got out of bed and followed her nose. She found him in the kitchen, fully dressed in a suit, with his laptop open on the table and coffee in front of him. “Good morning,” she said. “I didn’t realize we were dressing for this event.” “Clothes are optional for you, but I booked an early flight to San Jose. I don’t want to get thrown out of the airport for public nudity.” His grin was too casual. Automatically, she reached out and felt…nothing. Her heart felt lodged in her throat, blocking speech. The balance in her head vanished. After a night like last night, he was just going to leave? Instinctively, she slammed walls up to hide her dismay. “I’ll get my clothes.” She reversed course for the bedroom and stood staring for several long minutes before she remembered her dress was in the living room on the floor. She stumbled in that direction, scooped up her dress, panties and shoes, and carried them into the bathroom. She wasn’t going to stay for breakfast, or spend the day with him, as she had hoped. He wouldn’t be here to bring her coffee at work tomorrow, and she wouldn’t be able to surprise him by

Miranda Baker

accepting his invitation to lunch. Or dinner. She swallowed hard, fighting back nausea. She had no idea what to do. Play it cool? Beg him to stay? There hadn’t been a shred of emotion on his surface to guide her. What would she tell one of her clients to do? Be honest. She shuddered. She slipped into her clothes and shoes. Walking into the kitchen was harder this time, but at least he had poured her a cup of coffee. She took a sip and asked her first question. “Why didn’t you tell me you had an early flight?” “Last-minute decision.” He had woken up this morning and decided to go home? Okay, that hurt. “Are you going for good?” He raked a hand through his hair, making the blond waves stick up. “Are you worried I’ll come back and knock you off balance again? You can rest easy. I have plenty to keep me busy back home. I won’t bother you anymore.” Maybe she’d hurt him. The cold ball of fear inside her softened. She’d been so wrapped up in her own emotions she hadn’t thought about what the last two weeks had been like for him. Her constant rejection must have been hell. She took his hand and kissed it. “You aren’t bothering me anymore. Last night changed a lot of things for me. Are you sure you have to go?” A wide grin spread across his face as he shook his head. “In that case, I don’t have to go anywhere. Let’s go back to bed.” He crushed his mouth to hers while he unknotted his tie. His kiss set her on fire again, and he was halfway out of his shirt by the time she thought to ask, “Don’t you need to cancel your flight?” “Nope.” He grabbed her hand to pull her out of the kitchen, and she caught a flash of guilt. “Wait.” She stared at him. “Why not?”


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“Because I didn’t book one.” He winked. “Staying wasn’t working.” She stared at him until his smile faltered. She caught it again. Guilt. Hurt. Triumph. She pulled her hand out of his grasp and took several quick breaths as her stomach dropped into her stilettos. She had let him in. She had trusted him, had opened up with him more than she had with anyone—and he was playing games? “You didn’t really book a flight? You just said that to mess with my head? You lied to me?” He reached for her hand again, but she took several scuttling steps back. “Is this a game to you?” He shook his head and opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Special, rare and real, huh? You actually had me convinced. I believed you. I was ready. I wasn’t playing hard to get, Ryan. It really is this hard for me to let someone become a part of my life.” Or was it only hard because it was him? Because she loved him? Abruptly, the pain became ten times worse, not because she had admitted it to herself, but because he had stopped shielding her from his emotions. “No!” Her voice was sharp and her anger was hot. “You keep all of that to yourself now. Your loneliness isn’t for me. I wish you hadn’t learned that little control trick from Johnny, or I would have known you were playing me last night.” The emotion pouring out of him receded but the agony on his face still hurt her. She had to get out of here. She spotted his keys on the counter and picked them up, easily identifying the one for the Cayman. She separated it from the ring. “I’ll leave your car in the parking lot at Downtown and give Johnny the key. Go back to California, Ryan. You won your little game, but it’s over. I can’t be with someone who isn’t honest with me.” She dropped the rest of the keys on the counter with a crash. “I can’t believe I let you in.” “Don’t go,” he finally said. “Please don’t go.”

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His half-unbuttoned shirt looked ridiculous now, a parody of desire. “Believe me, I wanted to stay.” She shook her head. “No…I wanted you to stay,” she said, and left him.

Why was it so goddamn clear now? He’d manipulated her like she was a column of numbers instead of a person. He’d treated love like it was a business takeover. She’d been standing in his kitchen, naked, offering him more, and all he’d been able to think about was how to close the deal. This wasn’t about winning or making money. It wasn’t about getting his questions answered, or his craving satisfied. It wasn’t about getting her to say yes. Not anymore. His phone rang, and he glanced at the display. “Hey, buddy.” “You still in Norton?” Mark asked. “We’re on our way home.” “Yeah, but maybe not for long. I screwed up, man.” “Hang on.” He heard Mark say something, heard Alisa talking in the background and winced. “Okay, go ahead,” Mark said. Ryan told him. Mark said nothing, probably to keep his wife from stealing the phone and chewing him out. When he ran out of steam and self-recriminations, Mark chuckled. “Wow.” “That’s all you have to say?” “Now I understand why Crystal was so pissed at me at the rehearsal dinner. She knew you were trouble.” Ryan heard a female squawk. “Go ahead and tell her, man.” “I’ll tell her in a minute. What are you going to do?” Ryan thought for a moment. “She doesn’t work on Sundays and I don’t know where she lives.”


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“Don’t even ask.” “Ask you, my pussy-whipped friend? I wouldn’t dream of it. Put your wife on the phone.” He could almost hear Mark shaking his head. Alisa came on the line. “I’m not telling you either. Not until I talk to Crystal and probably not even then. What did you do to her?” “Mark will fill you in. Listen, will you do me a favor?” He talked over her curses. “Would you please check on her? I’m fully aware that I acted like an ass, but there’s not much I can do about it at the moment. I don’t want her to be sad or alone. Please?” “I was going to call her anyway.” “Thank you. Tell her—” She grunted and hung up on him. The urge to call a taxi and head Crystal off at Johnny’s bar was hard to resist, but she had said she needed space to function. He could give her a little space and give himself time to think about what had just happened—and what he wanted to happen in the future. She was wrong. This wasn’t a game to him. He’d sell his over-decorated houses and move his base of operations to Norton in a second, but he couldn’t do anything until he figured out a way to repair the damage he had done. No more manipulation. Chasing after her now and presenting her with a fait accompli wouldn’t show her he cared about her. It would be yet another power play. He groaned aloud as he realized that hopping on a plane to California was probably what she had expected him to do all along. His coffee was cold, but he drank it anyway and then poured another cup. He stared off into space for a long time, thinking. That cup was cold too, by the time he remembered to drink it.

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The doorbell rang, making his heart pound. He leapt to his feet, almost running to the door, even though he knew it couldn’t be her. It wasn’t. Johnny stood on his front steps. “Destiny kicked me out of my apartment when Crystal showed up. Thought I’d bring your car back.” He cocked one eyebrow, the one with the silver ring in it. “You gonna invite me in?” “You’re a pushy bastard.” Ryan stepped aside. “Part of my charm.” He made a beeline for the kitchen. “Do I smell coffee?” Ryan poured him a cup and sat back down at the kitchen table. “I hope you aren’t going to give me any more advice.” “Nah—you don’t know what to do with it.” His grin was beyond cocky and Ryan snorted. Johnny drank his coffee, leaning against the counter. He waited, sensing that Johnny was dying to tell him something. It still surprised him that a guy who wore black leather as easily as he wore the tattoos that covered every inch of his arms was so into male bonding, but he was rapidly learning that in Norton the appearances he had counted on for most of his life didn’t indicate what was inside. “I overheard something before I left my apartment that may or may not help you out,” Johnny said. “Do tell.” “Crystal couldn’t read you last night or this morning, and it freaked her out. I feel like that’s my fault, for telling you to block her in the first place.” Ryan shook his head. “Not your fault, man. I should have known better than to think hiding my emotions was any way to tell an empath I loved her. I completely fucked up.”


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Johnny shrugged, then shot him a grin. “I’ve got a tattoo for every time I’ve said that.” Ryan glanced at his multicolored arms. “I wish you’d told me that before I took your goddamn advice.” Stupid, he’d been stupid to think a woman who made her living sifting through emotions would tolerate anything less than absolute honesty in a relationship. Just when she’d begun to trust him, he’d pulled the rug out from underneath her. How could he put it back? By staying, he finally decided. He wasn’t going anywhere. He could see the whole puzzle now, and he hoped the last piece fit. Tomorrow morning, he’d go to her, as he had every morning for the past two weeks, and prove he could be counted on to stay, no matter what happened between them. This time he would offer her nothing in the way of a bribe or incentive…except himself. An idea glimmered. He could see it now. Big. Bold. A new beginning. Maybe he would offer her a little something after all. She’d marked him for life—why not make it permanent? He looked at Johnny. “I assume you know where to get ink done around here?”

After reassuring Destiny that she’d be fine, Crystal went home. No work today. No plans. Nothing to keep her mind off her emotions. She went upstairs and drew a bath, leaving her heavy dress, shoes and underwear in a pile on the floor. She sat in the tub as it filled around her, waving her toes in the stream of water and turning it ever hotter. Betrayal. Hurt. Disappointment.

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He would leave now for sure. In fact, he was probably already gone. It hurt, so much more than it had hurt the last time because she knew exactly how lonely the years would be without him. Grief choked her. She wasn’t an innocent girl anymore. She wasn’t the well-armored woman she’d been at the rehearsal dinner, either. She’d cracked again, split right down her fault lines. She sank down in the water until it covered her shoulders, wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. It was time to see what was inside. Barricading her emotions had kept her heart safe, but now her walls were holding her back. She’d rebuilt her life so that she remained in control, calling the shots, giving advice, forging connections between strangers while keeping her own heart hidden. And blind. Enough. Slowly, she sank into herself. The loneliness was overwhelming, even more acute because of the hope. Fear settled around her like black water. Crippling, illuminating, humbling fear. Crystal kept sinking. She washed through the corridors of her heart, lapping into the darkest beating corners, forcing herself through tender chambers, naming and claiming everything inside. Then she dipped beneath the surface of the water to wash away her tears. Through the water, she heard the dull ring of her phone. Her pulse jumped. Ryan? She surfaced to peer over the side of the tub where she had placed her cell. It wasn’t him, but Alisa’s home number on the display made her smile. She dried her hand on a towel. “Hello, my darling, how was Hawaii?” “Who cares—are you okay? Mark talked to Ryan. Do you want me to come over?” Crystal settled back into the tub. “Nope, I’m all right. Heartbroken, but fine.” Silence. “I’m coming over.”


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Crystal’s chuckle was rueful. “I’ve never said anything like that to you before, have I?” Another tear fell. “I’m sorry, darling, it’s…complicated. But I’ll be fine and I truly don’t want company. I think I’ll go in to work.” Maybe now that Ryan was gone, she could reschedule her clients. “It’s a brave new world for me, but I’ll survive.” “Are you sure?” Alisa sounded doubtful. “I’m sure, and you must be exhausted.” She put a smirk in her voice. Alisa’s wicked laugh brought back good memories. “Mostly due to that CyberVibe you gave us. Mark is already making prototypes that take the concept a few steps further, and you know who his favorite toy tester is…”Alisa yawned and they both laughed. “Lucky girl. I’m in the tub so I better go, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Crystal promised. “Thanks for calling, sweetie.” “Yup.” Crystal tossed the phone onto a towel and climbed out of the water. She’d kept so much inside, for so long. It was going to take some practice to find her balance point again, but she would, in spite of the grief she knew she would feel tomorrow morning at Come Again when nine o’clock came and went without a coffee and flower delivery. Resolutely, she grabbed a towel and dried herself off, determined not to spend the day feeling sorry for herself. Her clients hadn’t been the only thing she had let slide over the past few weeks. Her house could use a good cleaning and her refrigerator was empty. She had plenty of things to keep her busy, but first she was going to take a much-needed nap. She crawled into bed naked, tucked her pillows and blankets into a tight cocoon and fell deeply asleep.

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Chapter Twelve

Crystal opened the back door of Come Again, surprised to hear music blaring from Bonita’s office so late at night. “What on earth are you doing?” Papers were strewn all over the room. “Clearing the deck.” Bonita dropped into her chair, the only uncluttered surface in the room. “Looks like that might take you all night,” Crystal observed. “I can’t sleep anyway.” Emotion whispered in the air between them, making Crystal wonder whether Bonita wasn’t shielding or if her own senses had become more acute. “Want to talk about it?” Bonita sighed. “I’ve reached the end of my rope. I always knew I’d go to her eventually. Until now, I’ve been afraid, but watching you and Ryan…I can’t hold out any longer. Would you take care of the shop until I get back?” Crystal nodded. “Of course.” “Thank you.” Gratitude was Bonita’s dominant emotion. Beyond it, Crystal sensed relief and a resigned peace that made her ache. She was glad Bonita was going to her lover, and she was also happy to have the responsibility of Come Again to keep her mind off her own heartbreak. “You want help with this?” Crystal gestured around the room. After her nap, she’d spent the day putting her house in order. She might as well continue her cleaning streak.

Hook Up

Bonita shook her head. “I’m just making it easier for you to find everything.” Crystal raised an eyebrow. Her boss grinned. “Okay, maybe I could use a little help—but only if you tell me why you aren’t wearing any makeup.” “Holy shit.” Crystal glanced into the mirror on the back of the door. “I guess I forgot.” She moved over the desk and began to sort. Bonita caught her hand and held it. She wasn’t going to accept an evasion. “Ryan is leaving,” Crystal admitted. “I thought I wouldn’t survive if he left me again…not that he really left me the first time. He lost my number, and when he called the frat house I was flat on my back on a ping-pong table.” Bonita winced, making a soft sound of sympathy. Crystal continued, “Yeah, I can understand why he didn’t call back, but I spent all those years feeling abandoned. I locked my heart up tight, safe and sound, and I created this tough-chick image to keep the world at a distance. It worked…until he came back. I couldn’t keep him out. After a while, I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I let him in—and now he’s gone and I feel…everything, all at once.” Bonita squeezed her hand. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. But I’m also proud of you.” Crystal tried to smile. “Thanks. Me too…sort of. My heart hurts, but I’m not completely destroyed. I’m functioning, and I’m going to try not to keep so much inside anymore.” “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?” Bonita suggested. “Exactly.” She’d cracked, but this time she was going to sweep away the wreckage. Whatever hadn’t broken would be stronger. Her worst nightmare had happened—she’d been abandoned again. Or had she? Ryan had only planned to

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leave her because he wanted to stay. “Oh, hell. I told him to go,” she realized. “And then I bolted out the door.” Bonita wrapped her arms around her. “But did you hit him in the nuts with a steel baseball bat on your way out?” Crystal rested her head on Bonita’s shoulder and sighed. “Maybe?” “Then don’t count him out yet.” Getting in touch with her emotions had an unfortunate side effect—selfawareness. She had told him to go, but she was mad at him for leaving and, pathetic though it might be, she wished he would come back. If he appeared at the door right now, she’d let him in. How long was it going to take for that feeling to go away? How did people live with hope? It was hell on the heart.

The next morning, Crystal unlocked the back door, wishing she’d had time to stop at Tim Hortons for coffee. It had taken them half the night to get the office back in order, and she’d overslept. She stared at Bonita’s keys, trying to remember which one opened the front door. She glanced at the clock—nine on the dot as the key turned in the lock. At least she wasn’t opening late on her first day in charge of the shop. The bell on the front door tinkled just as she made it behind the front counter and tossed her purse in a drawer. She looked up and caught her breath. Ryan walked toward her. “You didn’t really think you were going to get rid of me that easily, did you?” he asked. “Actually, I was afraid I had.” Hope beat like a crazed beast in her chest. He shook his head, no trace of a smile on his face. “I’m not giving up on us.”


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But he wasn’t giving anything away, either. She couldn’t feel a thing. “I can’t be with someone—” “Who hides his feelings,” he finished for her. “I know. I get it. I thought if I controlled my emotions, showed a little restraint…” He paused, and she wondered if he was thinking of the parking garage too. “You would find it easier to be around me.” “That might be true with everyone but you,” she admitted. “I need to know how you feel about me.” “Then touch me, Crystal. Come inside. Won’t that tell you everything you need to know? I will lay my heart bare for you.” He opened his arms, waiting for her. Every step felt perilous as she walked around the counter. He was still blocking her. Words were easy. What if his heart told her another story? She stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the heat of his skin. She owed him this, before she touched him, before she knew. “I love you,” she said, reaching up to caress his cheek. Pure. Raw. Returned. His arms settled around her waist as he looked into her eyes and smiled. “I’m so sorry I tried to manipulate you. I swear I won’t ever hide my feelings from you again, but I figure that’s one good thing about you being psychic. You’ll always know how much I love you.” He released her abruptly and began unbuttoning his blue oxford shirt. Crystal stared at him. “I love you too, but I’m not getting naked in the middle of the store with you.” He laughed and shrugged out of his shirt, then dipped his shoulder to display the fresh black orchid flowering across his broad back.

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She gasped. There was her flower delivery. It wasn’t just her symbol anymore—it was theirs. Forever. His grin flashed. “I’m really glad you love me. Lord knows no one else will want me now that I’ve got such a girlie tattoo.” “That’s not your only problem.” She gave him a mock sharp look. “Now what?” His grimace made her laugh. “Where’s my coffee?” she asked. “Coming right up, every morning, for as long as you’ll have me.” His dark eyes asked a question she was happy to answer. “You’re not going anywhere,” Crystal said, finally certain. “And neither am I.” She pulled him close, being careful to avoid the tender skin of his new tattoo. Her world spun into balance as she embraced him, her past, her present, her future. There were no walls between them now, just love—and the promise of forever.


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About the Author

It makes me chuckle to think about all the romantic short stories I wrote in my rather too literary creative writing classes in college. If only one of my professors had steered me toward popular fiction! On the other hand, if I had discovered my calling back then, I wouldn’t have gone to culinary school, I wouldn’t have met my husband, we wouldn’t have had three children and I wouldn’t have turned to erotic romance to get my mojo back during all this hairraising kid raising. To learn more about me, please visit www.mirandabaker.com. Send an email to [email protected] if you want to chat about romance, writing, or recipes!

Look for these titles by Miranda Baker

Coming Soon: Power Trip

Now Available: Come Again Bottoms Up SoloPlay Hook Up

It takes two to toy with love.

SoloPlay

© 2011 Miranda Baker Come Again, Book 2 When librarian Alisa Mane’s boyfriend accuses her of being frigid, she sets out to prove him wrong the only way she knows how—with research. A visit to the local sex shop uncovers the sizzling sensuality locked beneath her cool façade, and she eagerly accepts the opportunity to test sex toys for SoloPlay Enterprises. Under the code name “Sologirl”, she begins exploring her body on her own terms. After all, no one was ever rejected by a vibrator. Mark Winters needs his new DoublePlay line of toys to hit big, and there’s only one tester for the job—Sologirl. She fires his imagination with playfully erotic reviews and never fails to pick a winner. There’s only one problem— Sologirl refuses to test the DoublePlay toys for couples. With his company’s success on the line, he decides to make his offer again, up close and in person. One look at the icy hot Mark and Alisa realizes he’s her best chance to discover if any man can satisfy her. A red-hot month of experimentation more than answers that question, but now Alisa has another problem—DoublePlay is almost ready for production and her feelings for Mark have nothing to do with business. Is she brave enough to continue playing…with her heart? Warning: This book contains a sexy librarian, an icy hot businessman, scandalous emails,

scorching

male/female

and

well…everything. Enjoy the following excerpt for SoloPlay:

female/female

play

time,

and

vibrating,

Alisa toyed with her mouse, watching the cursor dart across her screen, unable to concentrate on the actual data. Ever since Mark Winters’ DoublePlay email had arrived, she couldn’t stop thinking about sex with a partner. But which kind? On the one hand, her fantasies were always about men. On the other hand, no man had ever managed to give her an orgasm, so maybe she should stick with women. Crystal had been able to make her come. Of course, she was also psychic, totally tuned in to what Alisa was feeling at every moment. With her, she had never had to say a word. Crystal had insisted on drawing the words out of her, but there had been no real risk. That was really the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? Sex with a partner required communication, and Alisa didn’t like to volunteer information. Still, unless she wanted to spend the rest of her life communing with silicone, plastic, metal and rubber, she should probably try dating again. She giggled as the image of entertaining her visiting parents at a fancy restaurant while she held hands with a vibrating dildo popped into her head. She had been dodging her mother’s calls, but inevitably, they would have to set a date. “Hey, Beth?” Alisa swiveled to face her desk mate’s chair. “Do you know any nice guys?” Beth muttered something incomprehensible. She appeared to be on the search for an elusive title, and unless someone dropped a bomb on her keyboard, she wouldn’t give up the hunt any time soon. Alisa kicked her chair. “I need a date.” No response. She sighed. The first set of automatic doors swung open in the foyer and Alisa glanced up at the security gate to see who was coming in. Sunlight bounced off the second set of glass doors into her eyes, momentarily blinding her. When the

spots cleared, she saw a man. And not one of the old guys who liked to read the free newspapers in the armchairs by the windows, either. This was a tall, blond iceberg of a man wearing a dark suit with a white shirt. His tie was pulled away from his neck, as if he had loosened the knot as soon as he’d pushed away from his desk. His hard features looked carved from cold stone. Alisa shuddered, her breath rushing out of her body. His pale blue eyes zeroed in on the reference desk, and Beth finally glanced up from her screen. “Check him out,” she said under her breath. “Hot date, twelve o’clock.” “I thought you weren’t paying attention,” Alisa accused. “Well, I am now.” Alisa felt frozen to her wooden chair as the man’s eyes dropped to her nameplate. He began to walk toward them with measured strides. “May I help you?” Beth asked, flipping her shiny red hair over her shoulders and giving him a smile that showcased every one of her perfect, white teeth. “I’m looking for Ms. Mane.” His slight smile barely thawed his features. Alisa eyed him cautiously. “How can I help you?” “I hope you can help me find Sologirl.” Her eyes widened, then shot over to Beth. “I’ve never heard of Sologirl,” Beth chirped. “Is it fiction or nonfiction?” “I’ve got this one.” Alisa jumped up from her chair and raced around the desk, ignoring Beth’s surprised look. She took the stranger’s arm and pulled him firmly toward the stacks. “I think I’ve seen it in the graphic novels.” When they reached the cover of the tall shelves, Alisa dropped his arm. “Who are you?” “Mark Winters,” he said, holding out his hand. “SoloPlay Enterprises.” “Holy shit,” she whispered.

His laugh was loud in the quiet room, but not as loud as her thudding heart. Alisa shushed him. “Nobody knows about SoloPlay here, and I want to keep it that way.” Her whisper was sharp. “You shouldn’t have come here.” “Well, you shouldn’t have said no,” he replied, taking her hand.

Mark watched the creep of red on her pale skin. His blood was rising in his veins

too.

Crystal’s

cryptic

comments

and

Sologirl’s

sexy

e-mails

notwithstanding, he hadn’t expected Sologirl to be so hot. Alisa Mane looked like a delicate china doll, all pink and white and blue-eyed, her long, dark lashes blinking furiously against her rosy cheeks as she tugged her warm hand out of his grasp. “Is it a question of money?” he asked. “No! Don’t talk about that here! This is a library—” He watched her lips move as she searched for the right words and imagined them parted, showing even, white teeth as she pleasured herself with a SoloPlay toy. “That’s such a stereotype.” Mark ignored her fierce glare. “I’ve definitely seen a few movies where the staid librarian whips off her glasses, takes down her hair—” “Shut up!” “What’s the matter, Sologirl, can’t take the heat?” he challenged. Mark knew what kind of a woman was hiding out under the hands-off librarian outfit. The low heels, modest neckline and the skirt cut precisely at the knee did not fool him. Alisa whirled and beckoned him deeper into the stacks. As she turned, he saw a quick flash of bare flesh above her knee and maybe the hint of a garter. Nope, not perfectly prim and proper at all. He thought of the

money he would have to shell out to multiple DoublePlay testers until his body finally cooperated and he could follow her without embarrassing himself. When they reached the back wall of the library, Sologirl stopped and whirled to face him. “You aren’t supposed to know who I am! What about SoloPlay’s privacy policy? Identity protection? How dare you come here! If anyone overhears us—” she hissed. “What are you afraid of?” he asked. “No one will guess what we’re talking about.” “I’m afraid one of my very perceptive colleagues will figure it out! Librarians are information specialists, and the library world is not exactly a hotbed of liberal sexual politics, either. One keyword search on the Internet and I can kiss my job goodbye. If I hear you say the words,” she lowered her voice, “Sologirl or SoloPlay again, this conversation is over.” “Fine. Can I say DoublePlay?” “No.” “That makes my pitch a little difficult.” “You chose to come here, buddy.” She crossed her arms. “It was the only address I had.” Sologirl’s gaze pinned him to the stacks. “How did you get it?” He hesitated. “Crystal said to tell you she sent me.” He watched emotions play across her features. Shock. Then anger. The idea that if Crystal knew what sort of lube Sologirl preferred then they might have been lovers raced through his mind. Just as swiftly, he rejected it and repressed the stab of accompanying jealousy. Mark would stake his life, his health and the success of the DoublePlay line on the fact that Sologirl liked men. “You liked BodyVibe,” he began.

Alisa’s blue eyes flashed, darkened. He continued before he could determine if her reaction was due to remembered pleasure or his temerity at bringing it up. He kept his voice just below a library whisper, not quite loud enough for her to easily hear. She edged closer, and he caught a whiff of flowery shampoo and the scent of sunshine and clean grass rising from her skin. He inhaled another deep breath of her sweet scent before he continued. “I also know you tested it here, in the library. In fact, your report opened up a whole new approach to the marketing department. They think it belongs in the…new product line. Since you’re already comfortable with BodyVibe, why don’t you try it out over dinner with your partner? Give up the remote control, let someone else take charge this time.” Sologirl’s eyebrows lifted. Her mouth opened the slightest bit and the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her full, pink lips. Mark pressed his advantage. “Do you know how erotic it is to give someone else complete control over your pleasure?”

When stubborn meets sexy, love is up for grabs…but one of them is playing for keeps.

Closing the Deal © 2011 Marie Harte

Derrick Warren has lusted after Sydney Fields ever since he first spotted her, and after months of intense phone conversations, he’s finally got the delectable redhead all to himself. All he has to do is let the old Warren magic do its thing…until an ex with an axe to grind shows up. Before he knows it, the perfect date ends with Sydney’s wine in his lap. Now she’s not taking his calls. To his utter shock, he realizes he’s going to have to work to win her over. Thanks to her mother’s bad example, Sydney is determined to never need a man. Just when she’s moved Derrick to her “loser” column, though, she’s tricked into giving him another chance. To her surprise, he not only satisfies her deepest sexual fantasies, she finds herself actually craving his company. But when she realizes they’re making love, not just having sex, her old instincts kick in. Because she’s starting to like the man, not just his body. And that, more than anything else, scares the hell out of her… Warning: Look out for a stubborn redhead who’s not afraid to throw her wine, her opinion, or her body at the annoyingly sexy architect determined to keep her for his own. Enjoy the following excerpt for Closing the Deal: “There’s something I have to know.” He put his drink down and waited, his gaze pensive. And then his stare slipped to her mouth for a second and she found it hard to breathe. “Yeah?” Had his voice always been that low and sexy?

“How much crap have you taken from your family for what happened between us?” His lips curled, and her fingers itched to trace the line of his grin. “How much time do you have? I was forced to take advice from Gage. The little shit thinks he knows everything about women now because he landed Hailey. And I’m still not sure how that happened.” Sydney grinned with him. “Dylan gave me all kinds of advice.” “The flowers and the cards, right?” He sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t believe those came from me without help. Okay, yeah. He suggested that. But my mother…” He shuddered. “The woman made me lie down on her couch and gave me therapy. Sydney, you have no idea how awkward it is to hear your mother talking about sexual feelings.” She laughed, imagining his pain. “Good. Serves you right.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Yeah?” “Yeah. You really pissed me off in that restaurant. I still think you got off lightly.” “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I have no idea why Brittney acted that way. We broke up six months ago. And then she was at the restaurant crying and insulting you. Crazy.” “She didn’t like seeing you with another woman, I’ll bet.” Sydney liked the fact that he looked uncomfortable. Derrick wasn’t a guy who went through women like M&Ms. “Not one that looked like you. You’re a knockout and you know it.” She tried not to preen at that, but she couldn’t help it. “Oh? So you’re not into skinny blondes anymore, is that it?”

He didn’t look away from her mouth, and she licked her lips, deliberately teasing. His eyes smoldered. “You really like living dangerously, don’t you?” “Maybe.” He seemed closer. Their good time shifted from fun to sexually intense in a heartbeat. She took a hasty sip of wine. He leaned across the table, and she half hoped and half worried he’d kiss her. God, she’d jump him for sure and wouldn’t let go until she’d come, at least once. No way was this man a dud, not with the chemistry zinging back and forth between them. Derrick lifted a finger and brushed her lips, leaving a blaze of heat in his wake. He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. “I know how much you like a nice Pinot Noir. I like your taste in wine, Syd.” She couldn’t look away from his lips, mesmerized by the motion of his mouth. Wine that had been on her lips touched his. She had a hard time breathing past her desire for a kiss. Then he quirked his lips and showed off his killer smile. Her willpower to resist sunk like the Titanic, never to be seen again. “You’re here at my mercy, and you’re still mouthing off.” He reached for her again and…grabbed the bottle by her plate. He winked. “But since I’m trying to get back on your good side, I’m going to let you get away with a lot tonight.” He poured her more wine and sat back with a satisfied smile. Get away with what? Tackling him to the floor and mounting him? He’d seemed so close to kissing her. But he hadn’t. She wanted to call him out for teasing her, but that would mean admitting she’d wanted him to plant his lips on her. Which she hadn’t, shouldn’t… Hell. He changed the subject to the meal, pointing out all of her favorite things. The wine, the food, the salad dressing. Impressed he’d done his research, she

relaxed and found herself enjoying the conversation. They spent the rest of the meal talking about Gage and Hailey, a neutral enough subject considering how much they both cared for the pair. After dinner, Derrick wouldn’t let her clear a plate or lift a finger, and for once, Sydney didn’t push. He wanted to make it up to her? Fine. She’d enjoyed dinner. Maybe she’d have a bit of coffee, since she smelled it brewing. And then she’d head home to a lonely house and no doubt dream about Derrick. “Why don’t you go to the couch? I’ll finish with these.” He cleaned up a few more plates. He’d pushed up his sleeves, exposing strong, corded forearms. Dear Lord. It felt too hot all of a sudden. She gratefully went into the living room and sat on his leather sectional. Taking the heels from her feet, she propped her legs up on an ottoman and let her head fall back. What a day. She’d spent her morning wrangling with a broker and had a long conference with Lena about how to market their services to more clientele. Then a long search around a few newer neighborhoods for Brian, topped off by an afternoon convincing the Miller couple they’d found the perfect house—and for five grand under the asking price, even. She’d nailed the sale. It had been a decent commission for her, and a terrific feeling that she’d made the young couple very happy. And then Hailey had shown up with Derrick. Large hands on her feet shocked a gasp out of her. “Shh, easy. I promise not to fondle more than your feet unless you ask.” “Jerk.” He smirked at her and rubbed her soles, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped. “Your shoes are sexy as hell, but obviously they hurt.” “The price of beauty.” She moaned again. Under shuttered lids, she watched him.

He sat on the ottoman next to the one she’d claimed, his gaze fixed intently on her feet. His calloused hands were warm, firm and sent bolts of pleasure from her heels and arches to every cell in her body. Though she’d tried to resist, she could feel herself growing wet. She shifted on the seat and tried to scoot back, but he wouldn’t let her. “Uh-uh. I’m still apologizing. Let me.” Now feeling a little silly that she’d blamed him for Brittney’s bad behavior, she tugged again. “Be still.” The gravelly command eased a groan out of her. “Then stop being so sexy.” He paused. Her cheeks blazed with heat. God, what a moron. Had she said that out loud? No more wine for her tonight. His low chuckle eased her nerves. “Good to know you don’t see me as a jerk anymore.” “Who said?” She tried to shrug off her gaff. “Jerks can be sexy.” “Now, Sydney. Let’s not be mean.” To her shock, his hands left her foot and continued up her calf. The touch felt better than good. Nothing about the caress was sexual, yet her nipples were harder than nails and her panties would need a good washing. “I swear, I’m not going any higher than this.” Not even if I beg you? She cleared her throat. “Good to know.” Damn. That sounded a lot huskier than she’d meant it to. He smiled again but said nothing more. He treated her other leg to the same gentle pressure, turning her into a pile of melted yes in minutes. “That good?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” “I think I do.” He suddenly stood, and she stared at the evidence of his erection through his jeans. Would he make his move? Pressure her to have sex? She wasn’t sure she’d say no, and she didn’t know how to handle him. Should she be nice and say yes to reward him for good behavior? He had cooked her a terrific meal—or, at least, someone had, since it had been waiting for them when they’d arrived. He’d been an actual entertaining date. Apologetic, charming, polite. She had to check herself to keep from drooling. And then to touch her like that… He’d drained the day’s tension out of her with his hands, while arousing her at the same time. “Now let’s get you home, Syd.” She blinked and let him help her stand. Like Prince Charming, he crouched down and eased her feet into her heels one at a time. Staring down at his thick hair, she had the urge to run her fingers through it. But she didn’t. She didn’t know what to think, how to feel. What the hell? Derrick, as good as his word, walked her out and back to Gage’s truck. He drove her to her house without needing directions. Then he walked her to the door. He handed her a key. “Hailey made sure I had this to give to you. And she’s hoping you’re not too mad to call her tomorrow and tell her if I acted like a complete ass or not.” She couldn’t help laughing. “At least I can get in, and my car’s here.” The silver vehicle sat in her driveway, good as new. Derrick raised his hand. She froze. He stroked her cheek with his finger, lingering over her cheekbones and trailing over her lips. “Thanks for dinner,

Sydney. It meant a lot to me.” He dropped his hand and picked up her limp one. He gave the back of her hand a chaste kiss and took a step back. To her confusion, he was still aroused, though he seemed in no hurry to remedy the situation. “Good night.” She waved, wondering what he’d do. He nodded. “Good night.” Then he left. The bastard.

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