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Forbidden Fire

ISBN #978-0-85715-897-0

©Copyright Jan Irving 2011

Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright February 2012

Edited by Laura Hulley

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.

This story contains 99 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 7 pages.

Men of Station 57

FORBIDDEN FIRE

Jan Irving

Sian Blaine grew up as firefighter Luke Cade’s caring older stepsister—it is forbidden to want his body covering hers—but when Luke takes her against the wall of the house they share, she can’t turn away from this persistent younger man.

Coffee shop owner Sian Blane is firefighter Luke Cade’s stepsister. He knows the shy, older woman will never allow herself to see him as her lover, even after a sexy calendar is hung in the back room of her work place with Luke featured as Mr February sporting nothing more than his surfboard.

Luke has always been forbidden to Sian, but one night when she comes home from another endless, empty date, he stakes his claim, making her his woman. Now Sian must deal with the consequences of giving in to the beautiful, persistent younger man she’s always wanted.

Dedication

For Cathy Ludgate, my artist friend.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

IKEA: INGKA Holding B.V.

Toyota: Toyota Motor Corporation

Hello Kitty!: Sanrio

Sorry seems to be the hardest word: Elton John

Hummer: General Motors Corporation

Mac: Apple Corporation, Inc.

I can’t make you love me: Bonnie Raitt

Jaguar: Jaguar Land Rover

Chapter One

The strange message I read on my lover’s door is now being called out over the rooftops.

—Rumi

Luke Cade knew Sian’s step, knew the sound of the exact stair that groaned under her feet as she sneaked into the house he shared with her.

Tonight he found himself holding his breath, holding it almost like the sound of the world falling still. It was a moment when anything seemed possible, when stars could collide, when the sand below the posh beach house where they lived could be engulfed by flood waters that would rise and take back the palm trees, the sprinkler-fed grass…

When she might walk into his darkened bedroom and lie down beside him on his lonely bed.

Instead, she walked past his door.

Of course she did.

He let out a breath as the world realigned back to the same routine. It hurt, knowing she’d been out dancing with some guy. It always hurt so goddamned much. He squeezed his eyes shut, telling himself he could endure another night, keep his secret.

It would be worse if he didn’t have her at all.

Sian Blaine was his stepsister. She could never be his girlfriend. She could never see herself as his lover. She was ten years older than he was and she thought of him as her little brother.

It didn’t matter that he was in his mid-twenties now and they’d lived in this house alone together since their parents had passed away. During the day, he worked at San Diego Fire Station 57 and she worked behind the counter of Coffee Dreams near Solana Beach. He often went in for coffee.

They practically spent twenty-four-seven together unless Sian had one of her dates.

So here was another Friday night and he was lying in a bed that might as well be a twin for all the action it saw and she was walking past his bedroom door. Yay!

Suddenly he erupted from that bed, stalking across the darkened room in his boxers, swinging open the door so he could glare down the empty hallway.

Weirdly, she was just standing there, looking over her bare shoulder at him, as if she’d somehow known he would appear.

“Can you help?” Sian asked, solemn grey eyes on his face, her brown hair caught up above her neck. He told himself she was too skinny, the ‘bird bones’ she’d been called in high school, but her long arms seemed perfect as she tugged at the zipper on the back of her dress. And he knew why she was having trouble. This wasn’t some kind of come-on, despite how his body immediately reacted.

Sian’s left hand was curled like a withered leaf. She automatically tried to hide it in the folds of her dress, which pissed him off.

She didn’t need to goddamn hide from him. Not ever.

“Yeah, all right,” he grumbled, as if his heart wasn’t racing at the thought of touching her intimately. He’d have to pretend she didn’t move him, but her skin would be under his hands…

He couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t wearing a bra under the dress. Not that she needed to. She had small, delicate breasts. He knew when they were growing up she’d lamented her slight figure, but he liked everything about her—from the way she smelt to the way she walked.

“I think it’s busted,” he said, after pulling her zipper up and down, trying to get it to unfasten.

“Probably my slip got caught in it. Can you check?”

He looked up and some of her hair slid free of its clasp. The slinky bit of brown curled between them, caressing his neck. He caught his breath.

Sian stared at him and then jerked her gaze from his.

Just what had she seen in his eyes?

He swallowed around a dry throat. “What colour is this dress anyway?”

“Why do you ask?” Her voice was husky. She cleared her throat. “Going to splurge on one on Valentine’s Day for Maggie?”

Maggie. Luke had to search his brain to remember who that was while he was peeling cloth away from Sian’s back, his fingers actually—Christ!—touching bare skin. She had a mole just above her ass that he’d always wanted to kiss whenever he’d seen her in a bikini. Just put his mouth to it and suck until she laughed and turned around and he could put his mouth somewhere else…

“The receptionist in the building next to the station, right,” he said. “She’s seeing someone.”

“Oh. I thought you had a thing for her.”

Irritated, he said, “No. And if I did, why would I give her a dress?” The idea baffled him.

Sian laughed. “Because you actually asked me the colour of mine. I thought you liked it.”

“I like it because it’s yours and tiny.”

Oh, shit. Way to be subtle. But he was kneeling at her feet and if she turned around his boxers weren’t going to hide just how much he liked her dress.

She was quiet until he cursed.

“What?”

“This is not caught on anything! It’s broken, Sian.”

He pulled away and had to let his hands drop. He balled them into fists so he didn’t just give into temptation and yank the thing off her like a wild man. Sian liked charming men, he knew. Men who were smooth and educated. Nothing like Luke, who had always been so physical, so rough-hewn.

“Okay, thanks.” She paused, looking down at him. “I saw you’re Mr February this year.”

His cheeks heated. “Yeah. I’m also Mr April.” He’d posed with his surfboard and nothing else. “I didn’t know you’d seen it.”

“Are you kidding? It’s up in the kitchen at work.” Sian’s cheeks were also flushed now, he noticed. “Since we’re all gals, we’re shamelessly exploiting hot young men in our calendar art.”

Hot young men? Wait, forget the young part, she thought he was hot?

“Well, sorry I woke you up,” she said. “I’ll try to be quieter next time.”

“You didn’t wake me up. I wasn’t sleeping.”

Her body swayed as if she were on the verge of heading into her own room, closing the door and leaving him on the outside again. Tonight he just couldn’t let it happen.

“Luke—”

“I’m not the street kid who moved in when your dad married my mom,” he said. “I’m…” He spread his fingers, wanting her to see him. He was an adult now. He’d made something of himself. He helped people.

And some part of him knew it had been for her. He’d worked so hard, wanted to be someone she’d respect. For her, all for her.

“If I were in one of your favourite Jane Austen books, I’d be a man of substance, like Edmund Bertram, the parson in Mansfield Park.”

“I’ve always seen you more like Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights.”

“Because of my working class background? But I don’t brood as much as he did.”

“Yes, you do. Sometimes…you’re so quiet, I don’t know what you’re thinking,” she said. “I wish you’d take me to see where you come from. You never talk about it, but I know you think about it.”

He could have told her, but then she’d run from him and lock her door. The dirty things he wanted to do to her…

“I’m proud to work with the guys at Station 57.”

Her eyes widened and she knelt beside him, reaching out to grip his hand. “Oh, I’m so proud of you, Luke… You’ve come so far. You broke my heart, even my Dad’s heart. We both wanted you to have opportunities.” She studied him, her gaze running over his shoulders, his chest. He hoped like hell she liked what she saw since he worked out like a maniac. “Now you’re a hero.”

He blinked. “Did you just call me a hero?”

A crooked smile touched her lips. “I’m so going to pay for being sappy, huh?”

“You totally are.” He liked the hint of green in her eyes. They were large in her small face and her mouth was a little off-centre, the top lip fuller than the bottom. He liked it, he wanted to kiss it.

“It feels like forever since we really talked,” she said. “Why is that?”

“Maybe because you’re always out with some guy. Who was it this time? The architect or the gym owner?”

“Luke—”

“Don’t tell me it’s none of my business, Sian. We’re all we’ve got.”

“No, I don’t accept that.” She climbed to her feet, her dress sagging like a sail without any wind, putting her back on display. Firm skin, small bones, strong. Strong like the way she’d been when his mom had had cancer—holding him, letting him know with her body against his that he would never be alone.

“Then why do you still live here? Why are we both living under the same roof?” Fuck it, he was pushing things, he was probably ruining things, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He was on his feet, hands on his hips, looming over her.

“It’s just easier—”

“That’s bullshit. It’s not easy for me,” he said. “I still live here because I need to be close to you.”

She shook her head. He crowded her against the wall, waiting, watching her to see if she wanted free of him. When she only stared up at him he leant down and put his mouth over hers, claiming her.

Sian made a small sound in her throat and then her fingers were digging into his arms. She tasted like coffee and crème caramel, and annoyance slashed him when he thought about how she’d shared that dessert with another man.

When his tongue touched hers she jerked in his arms, her body fully pressed against his now. She felt amazing, better than anything he’d ever felt. He tore his mouth from hers and yanked his boxers down, wanting them to be skin to skin.

Her eyes looked shocky as he also tugged down her dress, leaving her wearing only her panties. One of his fingers curled under the top of her underwear, moving back and forth, letting her know he wanted in.

“You’re what I want.” He reached up and cupped one of her breasts and she groaned, her eyes closing tightly. Closing him out? Fuck, he didn’t care. Now he was in a heat to mate and he didn’t care if she didn’t want to acknowledge that she was finally letting her little stepbrother have her.

They kissed again, man to woman, her lips pressing against his, her tongue shyly touching his as he took command of her mouth. He growled and she made another soft sound and his hand moved down to grind against her mound, finding her damp through the cloth.

He knew he should slow down, but this might be the only time she ever let him have her. After all these years, he was desperate. He broke away. “You’re on something, right?”

“Uh, what?” Dazed, heavy eyes met his.

“I’m clean, but I need to know if you’re on something.” He wouldn’t mind making her pregnant, but telling her that would probably have her running for her bedroom.

“Yes.” She blushed again.

He pulled down her underwear so it fell to her ankles and cupped her, holding her gaze as his fingers touched her slick folds, then delved deeper. She made a growling sound of her own now, gripping him tight. Close, he was so close, ready to be touched into an explosion.

“Hold on to me, baby,” he whispered, lifting her high against the wall. Her legs wrapped around him. He was shaking as he took himself in hand, one arm supporting her weight as he positioned his penis and thrust into her.

It was… Oh, God…

But Sian’s fingernails stabbed into his shoulders, so he looked into her indignant eyes and guessed he had been clumsy. Oh, shit. His woman in his arms at last and he—

“How does that feel?” he made himself ask.

“Big. It feels big.”

“Oh.” He held her suspended, not hammering into her the way he wanted to. “How long before it doesn’t feel ‘big’,” he whispered. “Sian, please, baby.”

“Uh…”

He reached between them, his arm burning from taking all of her weight, but he found her clit and her eyes flared wide. He wished he was on his knees, that it was his mouth touching her. He loved to do this for her, loved to see her shudder as he touched her. “Big is bad,” he whispered in her ear.

She laughed and he grinned back at her. “Big is a lot to, ah, accommodate,” she said.

But as he continued to play, she shivered again, and it was like her body was holding tight, living for every touch he gave her.

She squirmed, pushing down her body so she was seated more solidly. Oh, yeah.

“You’re my woman now,” he said.

“Luke, we can’t—” Her tone was meant to put him in his place. Luke the kid, Luke who is misguided. Fuck that.

A bead of sweat ran down from his hairline. He needed her to shatter for him. He needed her soft and wet and compliant and not telling him he couldn’t, they couldn’t…

When she was in pieces, he could finally get into her bed. He wouldn’t nail her as dirty and raw as he liked it, but only because he knew she’d never had it that way. His princess was relatively innocent.

She ground herself against him when he thrust, every second ticking with an almost audible impact, her eyes wide, the bead of sweat running down his cheek, crystallised like slow amber. It lit him off so suddenly he began pounding into her while she left a line of scratches on his back. He grunted, hands digging into her hips. She’d have bruises in the morning, like he would wear her scratches. She might want to put this aside, but her body would remember him.

“Can’t!”

“Oh, yeah, you can.” Relentless. This was a storm that came in from the sea, that all you could do was live through. Just their bodies sliding down the wall as he pressed his fingers against the top of her sex, tapping like relentless rain, her eyes going dark, swallowing his reflection as she climaxed. He felt her contracting around him, brought down, brought down to his level, to his hands stained with engine grease, to the kinky things he hungered to do to her.

He came in a scalding rush, marking her, wishing he could inscribe a symbol on her soul, on her skin. Mine.

He held her, feeling every part of her was his.

But then while he still trembled, arms burning, Sian stiffened, vibrating horror. He could almost hear her thoughts—what had she done? He was her little stepbrother and she had let him fuck her. And more than that, he had made her come.

“Sian—”

She scrambled off him. He caught her, held her gaze.

“It’ll only happen again.”

“No, it won’t.”

“Yes.”

He let her go, watched her snatch up her dress. Her door slammed a second later.

He guessed he wasn’t going to be invited into her bed. Not tonight anyway.

Chapter Two

What had she done?

Sian slid to the floor beside her bed. Her body was tingling, her nipples reddened from rubbing against the barely-there wisps of blond hair on Luke’s chest. Hello, contact with a male, which she hadn’t experienced in…

But that wasn’t the point. Fine, she had been celibate for years, but that didn’t excuse what she’d just done. Maybe her celibacy was responsible? She hadn’t really let herself go with someone in a very long time, since that required trust.

A picture flashed through her head of the very first time she’d seen Luke. He’d been in the music room, where a grand piano ruled over a pedestal that jutted over the rocks and beach below in a specially-built glass enclosure.

His golden hair had been limed by the diffused sea light, giving him the look of one of Botticelli’s sulky little angels. Human, flawed and yet still divine.

His fingers had skipped over the keys and solemn notes drifted, music whispering of being alone, utterly and completely alone.

And then he’d seen her and he’d yanked his hands away from the mahogany instrument as if she’d caught him carving his initials into the ivory keys. “Didn’t break nothin’.” His voice was the first discordant note, sullen as a black eye.

“Who are you?” Her tone was not accusing. She honestly hadn’t a clue.

“Luke, you know, my mom, your dad…”

Sian blinked, having no idea what the strange boy meant. “Are you the new cleaner’s son?” Mrs Cade was nice. She was slender and blonde with sad, steady eyes, but even though she was an adult, she wasn’t as tall as Luke. Studying him, Sian saw a resemblance in the shape of Luke’s narrow hands.

Luke nodded. “You’re Mr Henry’s kid,” he said, using her father’s first name as people did.

“Yes,” Sian said. “Are you waiting for your mom?” Maybe she could get Luke something to eat while his mother finished cleaning. She liked to cook. She could decide what to make and just by following the recipe, she was in control of the outcome. That was important to her.

And he looked like he could use the cals, since he was slender as that tomcat that jumped over their fence and prowled their yard in search of nesting gulls every year.

Something moved over his face. An expression like ‘what-the-fuck?’. He knew something and he’d thought she knew it too.

Sian’s throat tightened and she had to swallow twice. This was about her dad. He’d…found another girlfriend.

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” she said, needing to go there. Her place. She wasn’t just a kid there. Her kitchen. Mr Henry had even said so, last time he’d eaten dinner with her there.

“Okay.” Luke grabbed a grimy jean jacket off the hand-painted celadon upholstery. He put it over one big bony shoulder and followed her.

In the hallway, she sized him up in peripheral vision. He was taller than her, even though he really was a kid, at least ten years younger than she was. But he didn’t seem like it as he watched her out of eyes as steady and…knowing as his mother’s.

When they reached the kitchen with its warm yellow walls and IKEA cabinets, Sian felt herself relaxing.

“How about some antipasto and crackers to start?” she asked Luke.

“Uh…sure.” When he put down the jacket and hunched by the maple island, she knew he didn’t know what antipasto was. She was careful not to make a deal out of it, getting the ingredients and chopping Sicilian olives, onions and peppers. Luke just watched her quietly as if he also didn’t have a clue that most people served antipasto from a jar, not from scratch.

He closed his eyes tightly as he took his first bite of a cracker with the seasoned vegetables oozing off it.

“What do you think?” She wanted to know if he liked it. He’d never had it before so it was interesting, like a test in school—

“I think I’m going to marry you,” he mumbled around the cracker, blue eyes opening. There was not even a hint of humour there.

But Sian laughed because it was a joke. Luke just didn’t know you were supposed to smile when you made one. “How about some wheat grass juice?”

Luke’s face tightened. “Like at the gas station down the block? We had to stop and put two dollars of gas in the car and they had all this stuff…”

Sian blinked. What was the big deal with the gas station? “Yeah, like that.”

“I’ve never been in a gas station that had juice like that,” Luke said.

“They don’t all have fresh-squeezed organic juice?”

Luke’s face tightened. “Not where me and my mom live.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say.

“This is a nice room,” Luke said, looking at the brightly painted ceramic animals she’d brought back from a trip to Portugal. She’d done a lot of shopping while her father and his then nineteen-year-old girlfriend had spent most of their time in their room.

“Yeah, it’s mine. I asked Mr Henry if I could make it my own. I chose the cabinetry.”

“Uh-huh.” Again Luke had that dazed look. She’d bet he wasn’t exactly sure what she meant. “The shelves where you put stuff.”

“I know that.” But he hadn’t, so colour flagged his cheeks.

“So my dad is sleeping with your mom,” she said, repeating it aloud so she’d absorb it.

Luke nodded, but his gaze was fixed on her face.

“It’s all right,” she said. “It won’t last. Mr Henry says I’m the only girl he needs. He just gets lonely for adult ladies sometimes.”

“Why do you call him Mr Henry?”

“He doesn’t like ‘dad’ or ‘father’. It’s common and also aging.”

Luke’s brow crinkled. “Well, Mr Henry gave mom a big sparkly ring.”

Sian’s stomach tightened. She decided to scrub the countertop where she’d cut the greens. She was working at it, rubbing the rag over this one spot where the marble was stubborn, when Luke took the cloth from her. “I’ll do that,” he said softly. “You were going to pour some juice.”

“Oh…yeah.”

He was the kid, so why was she the one crying? It was dumb.

“The ring doesn’t mean anything either,” she whispered. When Luke didn’t say anything, she raised her voice. “It doesn’t.”

“He doesn’t hit her,” Luke said.

“Why would he hit her?”

Luke studied her. Then he changed the subject, just as if he were the older one. “Do you know how to bake chocolate chip cookies?”

“Yeah, but I have a great recipe for Parisian Macarons…”

Luke wrinkled his nose.

And she found herself smiling. “Okay, there’s a bag of semi-sweet chocolate kisses in the cabinet behind you. And you’ll have to help out…”

Sian wiped her face. Her tears had chilled, going cold against her skin as she just sat there.

She’d let Luke have her.

No, not have, she growled. Have was too classy a word for what they’d done.

She’d let him fuck her.

Sian put her head in her hands. Her body was still humming like a beehive in spring time, all the parts she ignored most of the time suddenly awake and singing. Her neck had beard burn, her left hip had finger-shaped bruise marks from when he’d lifted her and shoved inside her. Her back felt sensitised from when they’d done it against the wall.

And her pussy was moist, wet from him and her.

She shot off the floor and managed to bark her shin against her bedside table.

“Shit,” she muttered. She headed for her bathroom, turning the water on hot and stepping inside the shower.

When she moved her good hand down to wash herself, she moaned, still wildly sensitive. Her eyes snapped closed. Her body carried an after-image of what it felt like to have Luke lodged deep inside. At first he’d taken her by surprise with the suddenness of his penetration.

Electricity branched through her sex. She wanted to lean against the tile wall and let the steam rise, let her head fall back and touch herself. Her body was in full celebration mode, ready for more fireworks, for a heavy, masculine thigh to push her legs apart, for hands to lift her against the tiles and settle her body on a thick, jutting cock.

It was as if Luke had woken Sleeping frickin’ Beauty when he’d touched her. Now her body wasn’t just something that picked up groceries and drove her to the coffee shop or the bank. Now her body was female.

She smacked the wall. Shit! Why Luke? Why was it always…

But she would not let herself go there. She had not let herself go there for years.

And look where it got you, a caustic voice whispered. The first time he truly touched you and you were his.

His.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she told herself, picking up the fine French milled soap she loved. She was going to finish her shower sans the sexy rubdown and haul her ass to bed. “He’s your little brother. You do not have sexy thoughts about him.”

Yeah, right, the caustic voice chimed in again.

When she finished, she couldn’t look herself in the mirror. The tough girl talk was fine and dandy, but her stomach was all twisted up, and her body felt like crying. She was also keyed up so that she felt the towel rub her skin in a new way, and when she put on her favourite camomile and lavender talcum powder she found herself stroking her arms, feeling the firm muscle and the softness. Had he liked that? His hands had been almost reverent on her body until the dam had shattered between them and she had been rising and falling against the wall while his face had contorted and he’d growled ‘Fuuuuck’.

Chapter Three

What the fuck had he done?

Luke shoved his hair out of his eyes as he walked to his red Toyota 4Runner SUV. It was so early there were only sleepy sounds coming from the birds in the courtyard, and the ocean breeze had cooled the air. His eyeballs felt like he’d rolled them in asphalt all night, but that would be the total lack of sleep. Again. Only this time it hadn’t been because he’d lain awake until Sian had got home and then imagined taking her out, taking her home…taking her to bed.

This time was because he’d taken her. Period.

His cock hardened as he took a shot down memory lane and remembered just how it had felt to sink into her at last. Her legs around his waist, her nails in his back as he pumped her.

And then the tears she’d tried to hide as she’d run from him, slammed the door behind her, locked him out.

Oh yeah, last night was the stuff dreams were made of, if you liked the kinds of dreams that started out great and morphed into nightmares.

And he was such a fucking loser, because all night he’d lain awake, aching to go to her door, knock and ask if she was okay. And how would that convo have gone?

Oh, hey, I could feel how unbelievably tight you were so I’m guessing you hadn’t had sex in a very long time. So, um, are you okay? Did I hurt you?

But what he really wanted to ask her was how good it had been. On a scale of one to a gazillion, because he knew she’d come. He’d felt her milking his cock, squeezing him even tighter as she made those growly sounds that were unbelievably hot.

Just about as hot as the scratch marks on his back he’d discovered in the bathroom mirror. He loved a woman who loved sex, who made no pretence about it, scratching his back, biting his neck and leaving her mark as if to say her man.

Except he’d never wanted to belong to any woman except Sian.

Which, great, he’d got their sexual relationship off to a fantastic start by losing that slinky little dress and ramming into her.

And, winner that he was, he wanted to do it all over again. Except he wanted to be in her bed next time. He wanted to go to sleep because his body was wrecked from pleasing her and waking up with her straddling him, smiling as she took him deep.

And shit, now he was having trouble bending his six-feet-three inches into the goddamned truck because thinking of morning sex wasn’t helping him with his uncomfortable stiffy.

The light went on in Sian’s bedroom as he climbed in his SUV and he stared at her window, throat tight. What was she thinking? Was she still upset? God, he’d wanted to hold her when he’d seen those tears, but she’d left him like last week’s garbage.

Ever since he’d first met her, when he was just a kid, he’d made it his job to look out for her. Not that she’d been aware of it, probably. She’d always liked to make out like she took care of him.

But when she’d given him his first taste of gourmet cooking in her bright kitchen, he’d seen right away she was way more innocent than he was, despite their age difference. Man, he still remembered how weird it had been, driving with his mom that first time to Sian and Mr Henry’s waterfront palace. Not that it was huge or anything, but it was a different world from where he’d grown up.

Soon after that first visit, their parents had skipped town and gone to Hawaii for an island wedding. They’d left Sian and Luke alone. It had been Luke’s first night under a posh roof.

He’d have slept better in a pile of garbage on the street.

Sian had knocked on his door, ducking her head in.

Luke had grabbed the ridiculously too big silk robe he’d found in the closet, not wanting her to see his scrawny body in nothing but baggy boxers.

“You okay?” she asked, just as if her eyes weren’t red from crying. It had to suck big time, her dad getting married again and not even inviting her to the wedding. For Luke’s part, he didn’t care. His Mom could take a break from working so hard. He didn’t think the thing would last either, but anything that meant she didn’t fall asleep at the dinner table was a good thing.

“Fine.” He’d snapped closed the book he’d found in their study. Sian and Mr Henry had as many books as the library. Luke was going to be busy reading the science fiction section alone for months.

Sian had come into his room, looking around the space. “It’s a bit utilitarian, but we can work on making it more reflective of your personality.”

Luke had had to grin at her words.

She stiffened. “What?”

“You sound like people in books, the way you talk.”

She’d flushed and he was sorry he’d said anything. But no one in his neighbourhood talked like that. She was a novelty.

“There’s never been another kid in this house,” Sian said. “I mean, not that I am one.”

Luke wanted to roll his eyes. “Yeah. Do you mind?”

“No, because it’s you,” Sian said.

For some reason her words got him in the chest. He’d rubbed it, feeling less dorky in this big room with a canopied bed and a new computer and him with just one shitty little bag. He bet Sian had tons of clothes. He’d only known her a short time, but she never wore the same thing twice, unlike him and his mom.

“Are you going to bake something tonight?” he asked.

Sian blinked. “How did you know?”

Because she was upset, and he’d already figured when she got upset she baked stuff. She could use some weight, since she was built like the sparrow he used to feed outside their shitty apartment, but she didn’t do all that cooking because she liked to eat—she did it because it gave her a sense of control. Recipes were all ‘add three parts this’ and ‘two parts that’ and it’ll add up. Do it right and you always get the same result.

Luke could understand wanting to follow a formula. He’d felt that same power over his life when he’d landed a punch to his last stepfather.

It was all about controlling your environment.

It was all about not being invisible, even when the adults in your life made you feel it.

“I have another recipe for chocolate chip cookies,” she said. “It calls for a lot of eggs.”

“I can walk over to that fancy gas station if you need me to,” Luke had offered, getting off the bed that was so freaking perfect he’d almost been afraid of sitting on it.

“Walk?” Sian blinked, as if walking somewhere for baking supplies was a weird and freaky idea.

“Yeah, you know, on two legs.” He’d followed her to the kitchen, which was totally their room now. His because he could help her clean up, he figured.

“Very funny.”

“I’m a funny guy. You’re going to be glad I’m in the house,” Luke said.

“You know, I think I am.”

Luke knew he made her feel better. Thing was, doing that also made him feel better, like he’d put on more muscle or something.

Luke pulled the truck door closed, seeing the light come on in their kitchen. He wished he was in there, watching her make him breakfast. He had challenging hours at the fire hall, but Sian never seemed to mind getting up and making him something, even after one of those frequent dates she went out on.

As he drove away, seeing the sun just beginning to silhouette tall palms and houses in the exclusive enclave, he wished he could ask her why the constant dating. She rarely went out with a man a second time. In fact, he wasn’t sure she enjoyed it all that much. She never stayed the night and never brought anyone home.

Not that either of them did that. Back when Luke was going through women like the gender had been invented for him to worship with his hands, mouth and body, he’d never brought any of his women to the house. He’d known it would upset Sian. She’d think it was Mr Henry all over again or some shit.

But it seemed like whatever he did he upset her.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes again as he parked his truck behind the station house, thinking he’d better get a haircut. It was supposed to be short anyway, but he’d been so busy since that calendar had come out, doing the rounds in schools and businesses, drumming up money for charity and also teaching fire safety, that he hadn’t thought about it.

He wondered which Sian would prefer, slightly longer and silky like it was now, or one of his brush cuts? Not that he’d probably get to ask her.

“Cade, what’s up with you?” Taz socked Luke’s shoulder. “You in the same universe, my man?”

Luke shrugged, feeling as if what had happened the night before was tattooed into his skin. Taz—aka Tasmanian Devil—was Luke’s best friend, though for some reason Luke had never brought him home to meet Sian.

No, natch that. He knew why. Taz was drop dead gorgeous at six-five with black hair and slanted green eyes. He was the ladies’ man of the fire hall—so that if they had a call, he’d be the one coming out the door carrying a beautiful woman wearing red satin panties and nothing else.

Luke had done a couple of kinky threesomes with Taz, enough to know the guy loved sex and he didn’t care what gender he fucked. He wouldn’t care about Sian’s hand. He’d just want to get into her black thong.

Except he was Luke’s friend, so he’d never try anything with his girl. Luke was such a pathetic bastard sometimes…

“Long night,” he said, trying to deflect Taz’s radar.

“Sounds promising,” Taz purred. “Tell me more. Are we talking Luke steppin’ out of his awkward thang and putting a lady into handcuffs? ‘Cause that’s just hot, dude.”

“Last night didn’t work out.” His body felt like a balloon, slowly deflating. Now he wanted to go to sleep, just as his work day was starting. Perfect.

“This was her, wasn’t it?” Taz asked, slinging an arm around Luke. “The mysterious Sian. Her name sounds like a total perfume ad. I can see her coming out of the surf like that chick in the first James Bond movie. You know, the one with the knife in her belt? That was seriously sexy. I love dangerous women.”

“Ursula Andress, and she’s nothing like Sian. Sian’s…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “She’s not like that.”

“And you are so fucked.”

“I am so fucked.” His voice got husky. “She ran from me.”

Taz studied him as the parking lot began to warm around them, sending up the smell of fresh asphalt. It was going to be another scorcher. “You finally went for it. Come on, I’ve seen you in action, she must have wanted more of your brand of honey, brother.”

“I didn’t get Plan A in action,” Luke said. He had finally broken down a couple of months ago and talked about his dream girl with Taz. He hadn’t got too specific, but it had been obvious he had some walls to break down. Taz and he had gamed it out. Dinner, maybe a movie or dancing, then home where he’d stroke the skin of her bare back after a nightcap. Just that one little touch to make her hungry for more. Sex wouldn’t happen for at least a month. He’d wanted to win his life partner, not merely score.

“But action was had, yes?” Taz looked grave, not like he wanted juice, so Luke nodded.

“Very direct action and then…fallout.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.”

Taz raised a finger. “But we can fix this.”

“I made her cry, Taz.”

Taz’s eyes sharpened. “Cade, you wouldn’t—you didn’t hurt her?”

“Fuck no!” Why again had he decided to go all true confessions? Bad idea.

“Okay, okay, I didn’t think so. I mean… You’ve always been a little shy around women, you know? You treat them like glass despite being a natural Dom.”

Yeah, like he would ever let Sian see that side of him. He didn’t want to scare her…more than he already had. “It just…happened.”

“Sex.”

“Yeah.”

Luke practically saw smoke coming from Taz’s head his gears were spinning so hard. “Luke, you gotta go see her. You gotta make it right.”

“She won’t talk to me.”

“Where does she work?”

“Coffee house in the strip mall on fourth.”

Taz’s eyes widened. “I know the one. Their baked stuff is to die for.” And Luke could see he was speculating on which of the attractive baristas was Luke’s girl. “They got our calendar on the wall in the back.”

Luke coloured. “I know.”

The guys had agreed to go the extra mile for a special calendar for charity. Some of them had worn swimsuits—some like Taz and Luke had just gone with their skin. But hell, they’d sold a lot of calendars.

Taz grinned. “You just gotta show her you’re more than a pretty centrefold.”

“How?” His voice actually cracked. He’d thought it was hell, wanting Sian and never having her, but he didn’t know if he could drive back to that fancy house and spend another night in it, knowing he’d made her cry.

Chapter Four

“Luke, I think we need to talk,” Sian told her reflection firmly. I’ve lost him, her inner critic jibbed. And Sian flubbed the rest of her speech by doing the tear thing. Christ, she couldn’t even face off against the mirror in the staff bathroom at Coffee Dreams. Wonderful.

“Knock, knock,” Dharma Monroe called, her breathy wind-chime voice a gentle intrusion.

“Hey,” Sian said, throwing some cold water on her face. It didn’t help with the bags under her eyes, but seventy-two hours of straight sleep probably wouldn’t take the edge off those puppies.

She looked…fragile.

And she hated to look fragile. It was like asking life to give her another one-two to the jaw.

“Okay, you’ve been acting weird all morning. What gives? Bad date last night?”

Sian laughed. The date with Matthew, the hot lawyer who worked one storefront over from Coffee Dreams—she’d totally forgotten it. “No, it was great. You were right, Matt definitely has a sweet tooth. He ordered crème brûlée and tiramisu last night. Not that I blame him. The crème brûlée was scented with fresh rosemary.”

“So he shared some dessert with you, huh?”

When Sian didn’t even blush, Dharma went on, “He’s a big guy.” Dharma’s eyes half closed as if she were savouring thinking of Mathew, who was an amateur boxer as well as a lawyer.

“Next you’ll want him on the calendar.”

“Mmmmm.”

Sian wasn’t going to throw stones at her employees loving the calendar. The one where she’d seen her little stepbrother wearing nothing but his incredible suntan. It had been a solid crack in the wall she’d put around him years ago, when her eyes had kept going in a forbidden direction.

“No, I didn’t have a bad date with Mathew. More like I can’t remember it,” Sian said.

“Ouch. Have a heart, some of us haven’t been asked out by our moonlighting warrior. Did you see he had a shiner this morning from his last fight? I think it’s the ‘s’ in sexy.”

“You would, since your typical fight is deciding if you’ll do a restorative yoga class or branch out into ultra-mellow yoga nidra,” Sian said, smiling at Dharma.

“So I’m a cliché!” Dharma said. “But I have to live up to my name, even if I’d prefer it was ‘tantric’, as in sex.”

“Everything you like is sex.”

“Well…yeah.” Dharma widened her eyes at Sian. “What’s not to like about getting sweaty and having lots of orgasms? Oh my Goddess!”

“What?” Sian looked around to see if her coffee shop had been blasted by the Death Star.

“You so got some.”

Oh shit. Now she was blushing.

“Who was he? And don’t say it was your Hello Kitty! vibrator.”

Sian had to laugh. Dharma had bought her that unspeakable toy for her last birthday. When she’d opened it she’d been aware of Luke’s amused-but-hot look, as if he was imagining what she might do with it alone.

“Oh, crap, how long has this volcano been ready to explode?” Sian moaned.

“Volcano? Oh, you gotta dish. You can’t say ‘volcano’ and…is that a hickey?”

“Kill me now.”

“Not until you spill, woman.”

“IhadsexwithLuke.”

“Whaaaat?” Dharma’s orange painted lips formed a big ‘O’.

Sian covered her eyes. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

“You finally did it.” Dharma’s voice was soft, dropping the teasing between girls thing.

“Finally? What do you mean—”

“I mean the way he looks at you. Every work day he comes in this coffee shop and the way he looks at you—”

“Stop. I never saw that.”

“‘Cause he looks away when you might catch him doin’ it, like it’s a dirty secret, the way he wants you. But just last Monday, when you were bent over, shovelling fresh espresso from the roaster, his eyes were all ‘I’d tap that’. And not in a casual way, more in a ‘that’s my woman’s ass’ way. He actually glared at two other guys who were also checking you out. It was kinda…sweet.”

Now Sian’s mouth rounded.

“You need to sit down.”

“I need to sit down,” Sian repeated, feeling like she’d just taken another hit from a two by four. She’d been sneaking looks at Luke for years and had always hated herself for it. How could she want him when they’d been raised as brother and sister? It was so wrong.

“So what brought it on? Did you have a fight or something, or did he say, ‘you know, I’ve been wanting to touch you forever so—’”

Sian’s throat closed up. She shook her head. “My zipper… My hand.” She waved the hand that was missing the tips of her second and third fingers. “He helped me with my dress and next thing I was up against the wall and he was—”

Dharma’s mouth did that ‘O’ thing again. “Wow.”

“Um.”

“So what did he say after you’d—”

“He didn’t say anything.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, I didn’t…” She shoved her hair back. “I ran.”

“It was that bad?”

“It was that good.”

Dharma didn’t say anything. Now she was just watching Sian, taking her cue from her.

“So that’s it.”

“You know you have to talk to him.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just wish I could stop thinking about it!” And she knew that was no way to handle it. “It’s just so big. He’s so big.”

“Really?” Dharma drawled and Sian suddenly laughed.

“I mean, he looms large in my life.”

“Sian, have you ever asked yourself why you still live in the same house? Why he never moved out? I mean, there had to be women.”

“I… He’s just there.”

The bell rang over the front door. Sian shot to her feet. She wasn’t sure she was relieved or bummed this convo was over. What she was, was shaky and sweaty. Just thinking about what had happened between her and Luke had that power, even hours later.

“Sian—” Dharma made a grab for her arm. “You should stay here and chill.”

“No, I need to work.” She shoved through the swinging door, seeing her mangled hand in relief against the stainless steel wall. When it had been freshly healing she’d had to learn how to do things like dress herself and use a computer one-handed.

She’d spent hours in the kitchen, learning to bake all over again. Even when the dressing was gone, it was amazing how clumsy you could be when the tops of two fingers were gone. She’d broken one of her favourite ceramic bread bowls. Luke had called a Waterloo and picked her up some cheap stainless steel ones until she was less clumsy.

She still had them.

Thinking of Luke made her feel lost, but suddenly there he was, standing at the wooden counter, waiting to order coffee.

“Luke.” She wanted to run to him, she wanted to hide.

He nodded, his gaze all over her face, his own pale under his tan. He looked as if he hadn’t slept any better than she had.

Oh, God, this was going to be bad, this was going to hurt, her gut whispered.

“What…what can I get you?” she asked him, feeling as wooden as the damn counter. Talk to him! she yelled at herself. But she didn’t know where to start. Luke had always seen through her cracks, always found a way to make her feel better without her actually having to come out and reveal herself.

But what they’d done together had shattered everything between them as surely as she’d broken that bread bowl years ago. And she didn’t know what to do now. She didn’t know.

“I didn’t come for coffee.” His jaw bunched, the muscles working. Angry. He was angry that she’d thought he’d just waltz in here after what they’d done. After his hands had held hers, cupped against the wall as he rammed into her, over and over again.

“No, of course not.” But she was numb, she was locked inside herself. Luke was the key, he’d always been the key.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Her heart was pounding as she pulled off her apron and walked out from behind the counter. She’d done this a thousand times before, when he’d picked her up and given her a ride home after work. It had never felt as huge as it did now.

She was sensitised to all kinds of things about him she’d never allowed herself to dwell on before. He smelt hot and sweaty, as if he’d worked out with the guys in the fire hall. He had a trace of dark blond whiskers on the left side of his jaw, as if he’d missed them shaving. The dark circles under his eyes only made their shade a more burning blue as he looked at her. How he looked at her…

She felt shy, crossing her arms over her breasts.

“Outside.” He nodded to the door and she followed him, smiling over her shoulder at Dharma automatically. She caught a worried look on her friend’s face.

The door swung shut and Luke hesitated. “Sian… I’m sorry for what I…”

Sorry. He was sorry. He regretted what had happened.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she said. Then she realised how idiotic that was, as if he’d forgotten to pick up milk or something. Not as if he’d fucked her to within an inch of her life.

“Don’t worry about it,” he repeated blankly. Then he laughed. “How could I not worry about it? It’s you.”

“You’re right, what happened…was so wrong.”

Luke swallowed. And again, as if he was feeling sick. “You think it was wrong?” His voice cracked.

She could do this. She’d been turning away from him for years and it had meant that she’d had him in her life. If they went there, God knew what would happen. She couldn’t lose him. She absolutely could not lose him.

Safe ground. They had to get back to—

“I’ll be packed up by tonight,” Luke was saying.

Sian felt like he’d punched her in the chest.

“What?”

But he’d turned away.

She lifted her hand. She had to stop him. They had to… Everything she said was wrong.

He said, “I don’t know what the hell I was doing, living with you.”

Chapter Five

As Luke reached the corner of the block, Elton John was singing ‘Sorry seems to be the hardest word’. He stopped the truck with a screech, threw open the door.

He made it to the dumpster outside the back of the Chinese takeout before he vomited, losing the toast Taz had insisted on making for him like the little woman…

When there was nothing left, he wiped his streaming eyes.

“Here, dude, you look like you could use this.”

Luke looked up, hoping like fuck it wasn’t anyone he knew. It was, but he didn’t know Matt from the law office that well. Just saw him in Sian’s coffee house sometimes. He took the offered bottle of water, rinsed his mouth.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I hope it wasn’t something you ate at Coffee Dreams. I was just going there.”

“What? No.” His head pounded like an empty drum. Wrong, Sian had said. But what she’d meant was unnatural. She really did think of him as her little brother and all those dreams, those fantasies he’d had for years were just wrong and sick.

“Shit, man, you look really bad. Do you want to come in my office and sit down?” Matt offered.

“No,” Luke managed, hearing the hoarseness in his own voice. What he really wanted to do was go somewhere and cry like the total pussy he was turning into.

“You don’t look like you can drive.”

Luke’s bones locked up around a ‘hell, yeah, I can drive’. But he’d worked too many accident scenes to put himself behind the wheel right now. Matt was right.

“I need a breather.” He studied Matt, taking in the towering height, the bulging muscles. And yet the guy had a dancer vibe, like he was light and deadly on his feet. His black eyes were oddly vacant, as if part of him was checked out. “You’ve got a shiner.”

Matt rubbed it. “Yeah. I was thinking about how fucked up last night was and…whammo! Took one while I was sparring.”

“Last night was fucked up for you too?” So his ass wasn’t the only one getting bitch slapped by the love genie. Good to know. But somehow that didn’t make him feel any better.

“Yeah, I really like this woman…well, you know her.”

His stomach tightened. Oh, fuck no. “Um.”

“Sian at the coffee shop. I asked her out.”

“Oh shit.” Luke covered his eyes. He was so not up to hearing this.

“And we finally go out last night…”

“Look—”

“And she’s a total airhead.”

“What?” Matt’s jacket was fisted in Luke’s hands. He had him up against the brick wall. “How can you say that? She’s…”

“Whoa! Time out, man!”

When his vision wasn’t red like his pounding blood, Luke saw the way Matt was staring at him. He dropped his hands. “Shit!”

“You know her. Like Biblically.”

Luke swallowed. “She’s my stepsister.”

“Oh fuck.”

“And she’s not an airhead,” Luke growled. “She just…she freezes up with guys because of her hand.”

“Her hand, but that’s nothing.” Matt looked confused.

“Not all the guys she goes out with think so.” Luke remembered one hellish night when he’d been sitting in their empty kitchen, counting the hours before Sian came home from her date. Then the call. She’d sounded stiff on the phone, but that was okay. He knew his princess couldn’t help it. Politeness was her default.

But the fact she’d seriously locked down her emotions had scared him. Had the guy she’d been with hurt her? Before he could demand she tell him, Sian was off the phone.

When he’d arrived at the restaurant, it was raining so hard he couldn’t tell if she was crying.

She got in the car and he’d just looked at her.

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

Oh, shit yeah, she’d been crying.

“Before he asked me out, he just didn’t notice my—”

She waved her hand, the one that had been burned in a car accident when her teenage boyfriend had blown through a red light.

“Who is he?”

He’d find the asshole and beat the holy shit out of him.

“It’s…probably better I never tell you that,” she’d said.

“Yeah, it is.” He’d had to agree.

So he’d driven her home and then she’d made them vanilla bean sorbetto from scratch and she’d been his again, back in their kitchen.

Thinking of that kitchen brought him back to telling her he was moving out of the house they shared. Without her, he was like the jumble of a jigsaw puzzle kids had used—full of missing pieces. He needed her as much as she needed him. How was he going to live stuck inside his own head?

Matt studied him. “You look like a guy who’s seriously hit the mat. In a fight, I’d know it was over from the look in your eyes.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, can I trust you to chill out here? I have a client coming by and it’s something I need to be around for.”

Work. Jesus, Luke had to get back to work. He nodded and Matt lifted a hand. “Later.”

“Later.”

It was better when he was alone again. His eyes stung, but he kept sucking in deep breaths. He didn’t know where he was going to move to, but it didn’t matter.

There was only one place where he was home.

* * * *

Sian managed to get through the work day without calling Luke. She didn’t know what she’d say to him. She felt like they’d both decided to jump onto a moving train without any idea of where it would take them.

I’m scared.

Two words. If she told him that, he’d stay. Luke had always been ridiculously protective, doing his best to vet the men she dated even though she tried not to share. His interest had always seemed on the possessive side, but she’d put it down to him not wanting her to get hurt again.

So she knew she could use those magic words to get him to stay, but it would be for all the wrong reasons.

Now, as she watered the cement flowerpots outside the front door, she racked her brain for something, some kind of reason that wouldn’t give her away. Hey, why rent some place when you own half this house? Right, like Luke had ever cared about money. Luke cared about people, which was why he’d become a fireman.

Okay, how about excuse number two, one she was loathe to pull out of the drawer, but if it worked… I get that we’re adults now and you probably want to live with someone. So you can just bring her here. It’s a big place and we’re both adults.

Yeah right. Except the thought of Luke with another woman made her want to puke. She remembered a date a couple of years ago that had taken her to an exclusive hotel. She’d seen Luke with one of his women, a beautiful stacked blonde. They’d been swimming in the pool and when the woman had pulled herself from the water, there had been no doubt she had everything Sian was lacking. She was curvaceous, not twig-boned, and she was…perfect. No mangled hand. No freezing when a guy got close to her.

Luke had had his hand between their bodies and she couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but suddenly she realised he was touching the woman intimately. Teasing her.

At once Sian had tingled at the idea of what that would feel like. Jesus, Luke’s hand on her. She’d also wanted to tear the woman away from him and shove her back in the water.

Mine.

Seeing him with another woman had led to a lot of hot, angry dreams. Luke touching her, then Luke with another woman. Sian had been so zapped and emotionally strained she’d been grateful Luke had always taken such care to keep his women out of sight. She didn’t want to meet them. She didn’t want to pretend to be nice.

When Luke’s familiar red SUV pulled up, Sian froze with the watering can hanging from her good hand. He stared at her through the windshield, his own expression hidden by his mirrored sunglasses.

Finally he got out of the truck, moving slowly as if he were exhausted.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Okay, next she’d talk about how hot it was, which was stupid since it was always hot in July. Duh. “Luke, about you moving out…”

“It won’t take long. I don’t have much shit.”

Sian’s body seemed to take over. So she blocked his path into the house.

Luke stood there, looming over her, smelling fresh from his after-work shower, his wide shoulders straining his simple T-shirt. He still had those damned sunglasses on so she couldn’t read his eyes. She wondered if it was deliberate.

“You don’t collect stuff like I do,” she joked, trying to pull them onto familiar, lighter ground. “Though you’ve always been patient about driving me to all those flea markets I love.”

Sian loved the whole shabby chic thing. When their parents were gone, she’d dragged Luke to a ton of open markets to pick up the recycled Italian gilt chandeliers she’d painted white or the furniture she’d slip-covered in creamy denim. Now she wondered if the frankly feminine look of the house had ever bothered him, but he’d never said anything.

“We could redo the house!” she blurted.

Luke frowned. “Sian…what the hell? You love how the house looks. And I’m not driving to another out-of-state flea market this year. Anymore seashells and gilt and we’ll have to talk intervention.”

He was teasing her the way he always did. Maybe it would be all right. Everything she was feeling spilled out in a messy ball of words. “Last night… If you need sex, I’m willing.”

Luke froze, staring at her.

Oh God, oh God, she knew she was saying this all wrong. But she’d do anything. He couldn’t leave. Luke, her Luke.

“You’re probably between girlfriends and I’m not seeing anyone.” Wow, wasn’t that an offer he couldn’t refuse.

“Are you offering me sex so I’ll stay here with you?” Luke asked.

And whoa, didn’t it sound even more pathetic when he spelt it out baldly.

“I…we’re adults.”

“You’re my sister.”

“Stepsister.”

“You said it was sick…what happened between us, me wanting you.” He looked sharply away.

“No, oh no, Luke…”

“This isn’t about you and me. This is about Mr Henry.” Sian knew whatever Luke said next was going to hurt. He knew all her vulnerabilities. He stepped over them lightly, but he knew where they were. “He kept leaving you all the time while you were growing up, but I was always around. You rely on that.”

“Luke—”

“I was always around because I was a kid, Sian. Not because I had any more choice than you did. Now it’s time we make choices as adults.”

But I want you here. The metal watering can scraped against the porch as Sian stepped back to let Luke walk past her.

Only he didn’t leave the way she’d expected. He yanked off his sunglasses as if they were a sudden impediment to reading her. Blazing blue eyes devoured her face. “You want sex with me for all the wrong reasons but you know what?” He laughed again. “I don’t give a fuck.”

Wrong? Right? Just words. Her body was closer to his. She reached out and gripped his arm. His skin was hot to the touch.

“Those guys you go out with don’t make you come. That’s why last night you needed it.”

“They never make me come,” she admitted. Was that dreamy voice hers?

“But I can.”

“Yes.” His hand was under her short skirt. He held her gaze as he went to the heart of her body, no waiting, no foreplay or pretty path of words.

He yanked on her panties, tearing them aside.

Sian gasped.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered, his face hard. He was giving her what she’d said she wanted, but everything was still so warped between them.

Sian widened her stance and was rewarded by Luke’s callused fingertips brushing against her. She whimpered.

“You’re wet for me.” A note of wonder in his voice.

Oh, God, how could she not be wet for him?

They were standing outside. The house and drive were secluded, but anyone could drive up, see them like this. Somehow it only added to Sian’s excitement. Luke had touched that other woman in public. This was Sian getting upfront and personal with his edgy side.

Chapter Six

Luke crowded her against one of the white pillars. The watering can fell from her hand, ringing on impact. The loud clatter was lost in the hot drum of her blood.

Luke pushed a finger inside her and she screamed, her nails digging into his arms.

“Surprise,” he whispered. “No one’s ever done you like that.”

She whispered, “Last night…”

“When I was first inside you I know you weren’t ready for me, but turned out you liked it that way, hard and fast.” His pupils were huge. She was looking into Luke’s dark heart. Her breath came in and out in a frantic pump, hot against his face. She focused on the whiskers, heavier now than when he’d come to see her in the late morning. Against her sensitive skin they would feel like sandpaper. Muscles clenched in her lower belly at the thought of him nuzzling her inner thighs with his face, deliberately marking her with beard burn.

“You like a little bit of pain. Who would have guessed the princess would like that?”

She’d always hated it when he called her the princess, but she knew, coming from his background, that’s how he saw her. Besides, Luke never meant it in a mean way. He used it to tease her, to remind her he came from grease and desperation, not porcelain and canopy beds.

And the truth was his street background turned her on.

As if he read her, Luke said, “Careful. You have no idea what these dirty hands would like to do to you.” His finger kept up its frantic rhythm. He added two more.

She couldn’t think…he forced her to a level where all she could do was spread her legs for him and sag against the pillar, taking what he gave her.

His fingers made smacking sounds, loud in the still air, emphasising how wet she was for him.

He loomed over her, his body close enough to kiss but kept separate from hers. The only place he made contact was her pussy.

“This isn’t like my dates.” He was servicing her and it felt… God, she lived for this. But she ached to share more.

“No,” he agreed. “I don’t date, not like you do.” His eyes flashed, as if he didn’t like the idea of her dates, even though he’d told her a while back he couldn’t figure out why she bothered to go out at all. But how could she admit to him, never mind herself, that dating was all about the distraction factor? There was always the hope she’d meet someone who could take her mind off things she shouldn’t think about. Like how Luke looked coming out of the pool every morning with his trunks sodden and fitting to his taut skin.

“Tell me…tell me what you did on your last date.” She wasn’t going to let this be nothing but his fingers inside her, working her, even though her slutty body rose into his touch, masturbating herself on his touch. And it was masturbation, because this was not remotely about them being together. Not the way he carefully kept his distance.

He flushed. “You don’t want to know what I do to my women.”

“You’ve got your fingers inside me,” she said and she looked down, seeing the tanned hand pounding between her legs.

“Fuck, yeah.” His gaze followed hers. “Lift your leg and put it around my hip.” When she didn’t immediately obey him, he said, “Do it.”

Sian lifted her leg. He speared into her even more intensely, filling her to the point of pain, just like last night.

“Say my name.”

“Luke.”

“It’s your little brother doing this to you, princess. I’ve got you all wet for me.”

It was as if he needed to rub her face in it. He was angry, he was still so angry. Her eyes pricked with tears. “Luke…”

“I don’t care if it makes you cry. Right now you want it and that’s all I care about.” But it wasn’t, because his gaze fell from hers.

“Don’t make it be this way.” She was pleading with him. It was all she could do since physically she was helpless, in his thrall, and he knew it.

Blue eyes seared hers. “You want to know about my last date? I shared a woman with Taz, my best friend. Taz handcuffed her to his bed and then we both went at her, fucking her, coming on her tits. She loved it, especially the end game.

“See, Taz has this thing about smoking a cigar after sex. So we were sitting in his study in his leather club chairs, jeans still open, and we made her crawl from me to Taz, sucking us off one last time.”

“Oh, my—” She was shocked. She couldn’t hide it.

Luke’s lips twisted. “It disgusts you, doesn’t it? But when I give you a taste of the rough, you can’t keep your legs closed.” He added a fourth finger inside her and just like that, on the slide and the too full feeling she came, crying out, reaching out to touch him at last, clutching his forearms.

“Look at me when I make you come,” he growled, a nasty tone in his voice she almost didn’t recognise. He’d used it with other people, but never her.

She looked in his eyes, unable to hide the way she rode his hand. He didn’t give her a moment to compose herself, to rationalise. His wicked fingers worked her so she burst again, shattering around him like petals from one of the heavy flowers on the porch.

His gaze stayed locked on hers, defiant as he pulled his fingers from between her legs and lifted them to his mouth. She watched him tasting her, her body chilling even though her hairline was damp with sweat.

He looked at her breasts and she saw her T-shirt was plastered to her chest, her nipples hard points. She wondered if he was imagining spreading his spend over her the way he had that unknown woman.

“Yeah, I want that,” he said, as if he had been reading her thoughts. He knew her so well. “I want my jizz on your skin like that body lotion you slather on yourself.” He pushed down her skirt and it hit her that she’d let him pleasure her again and this time it hadn’t been an accident.

“So how was it?” he asked, as if he was driven to ask, despite the tough guy act.

“Like getting mauled by a lion,” she said. They had to talk. The train they were on together hadn’t just taken off for destination unknown, it had crashed. And she missed him, missed her best friend. This angry stranger… She didn’t want him so angry at her anymore. She didn’t want to have hurt him enough to be this angry.

“This is who I really am,” Luke said. “I’m not shy. I’m not sweet.”

Sian swallowed, because yes, she’d thought he was both those things, even though she’d also known he had an edge.

“Time out,” Luke said.

A black Hummer swung into their elegant, palm-tree-lined drive. Thank God it hadn’t headed up here any sooner. “Don’t worry, it’s just Taz,” Luke said.

“The man you…” She was supposed to relax when the friend he’d shared a woman with, including making her crawl on her knees in order to suck their cocks, was parking in the driveway?

“Yeah.” Luke shrugged as if to say he wasn’t going to pretty things up for her anymore. No kidding, she got that.

The wide shoulders stretching his shirt, the dark, rumpled hair and killer green eyes that dismissed Sian were familiar. He was one of her customers in Coffee Dreams. Usually Dharma served him.

Taz gave her an icy look. Wow. Just what had Luke told him about her?

As she always did with attractive men, she tensed in a way her yoga instructor would scold her for. She could hear the Danish-accented instructor now, ‘Shoulders down from the ears. You will flow’.

Yeah, right. She felt as flowing as discarded newspaper.

“Hey Taz,” Luke called. “So we won’t need to take everything to your place. Not that I have much shit.”

Sian stared at Luke and everything faded, even the hostile Taz.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said.

Luke looked at her and she saw a flash of her friend—caring, protective—before he seemed to deliberately shut himself down. “I’ll make a deal with you,” Luke said. He swallowed and the calculating light in his eyes made her belly knot.

He took her arm and herded her to the end of the porch. She saw Taz watching them, still giving off that unfriendly vibe. She raised her chin, giving Taz a defiant look in return. Whatever Luke might have said about her, she and Luke had been friends long before Mr Shares-his-women.

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

“Like you said, I want sex.” Luke put his hands on his hips. “I can’t go on living with you and not have you.” He wasn’t standing close, but she felt dominated.

Didn’t he know all he had to do was touch her and she couldn’t say no?

“I’m not going back to pretending being your friend is all I want.”

That hurt. “I thought you liked being my friend.”

His eyes softened. “Yes.”

“Then why can’t we just go back to the way we were? Luke, let’s just forget what happened.”

“I don’t want to.” His jaw tightened. “Don’t you understand? I don’t want to.”

And there it was, his gauntlet.

“I know you think there’s something wrong with you and me being together, but I’ll live here only if you let me do you once a night.”

The breath left her body like beans spilling from a bean bag. “Are you nuts?”

Luke laughed. “Probably. I’ve been wanting you hard for years.”

“Luke, I’d be bartering my body to you. Is that really how you want it?” Even though she’d made the insane offer, she couldn’t see how it wouldn’t cut her.

“If you want to look at it that way. You aren’t gettin’ it elsewhere.”

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll sleep with you. Once…once a night.”

His eyes burned. Now he moved in for the kill, shifting so his arms caged her against the side of the house. “It’ll only be the once, so you won’t have to put up with more than that. I’ve got a strong sex drive, but you’re just about a virgin. I know you can’t take it like I want to give it to you.”

Her heart was thudding in her ears.

He ran a finger down her cheek and she jumped. His eyes narrowed, as if he thought she’d flinched. “But I get to call it, Sian. How I want you, when I want you. And you will want it, every bit of me.”

I already want you. Can’t you see that?

“One thing.” She had some pride. “I am not afraid of you moving out because of desertion anxieties.”

Luke considered her coolly and again she felt this huge yawning change in their dynamic. Now he looked at her like a poker player, wondering if he should fold or call. He’d kept this side of himself from her, protected her from it.

Now it was out with a vengeance.

“All right. But I’m still going to spend most of my free time with Taz. I’ll just come home for the nights.”

“How come?” she asked.

“Because.”

He wasn’t going to tell her. And it hurt, him shutting her out again.

He shifted closer, crowding her again. “No more of your dates. I don’t want you going out for elegant suppers, dancing with other guys or going to the fucking opera.”

“All right.” She decided he needed a zap. “But same goes for you. No…sharing some woman. And you’ll have to take me to the fucking opera.”

“I’ll take you.” Something vulnerable moved in his gaze. He tried to shrug it off. “I won’t embarrass you.”

“I know you won’t.”

Deliberately she held out her bad hand, but he didn’t flinch from shaking it. Of course he didn’t. Luke had never been that shallow.

They shook and then he pulled his hand from hers before she was ready to let him go. So much left unsaid. But what choice did she have? If he moved out, she’d lose him. And she couldn’t lose him. If giving him her body so he’d stay made her a total pathetic loser, she’d just have to live with it.

This way at least he wouldn’t leave.

Chapter Seven

Taz was giving him a what-the-fuck look when Luke returned to his buddy. Luke had seen Taz give Sian the cold eye and he’d wanted to intervene—the sensitive gentleman, the caring best friend.

Except that wasn’t who he was anymore. He was turning over a new leaf—total bastard. And the thing was, if that was the only way to have Sian, to stop the torture of lying in his lonely bed alone every night, waiting to hear her come home from seeing some other guy, then he was signing up.

Luke swallowed around the hurt in his throat. Fine, what he was doing was just another way of saying ‘loser’. But he could live with it because he couldn’t have Sian if he played the nice card, so he was throwing it out of the goddamned deck.

“I’m going to do a partial crash at your place,” he told Taz. “Come back here nights.”

“You need to move out,” Taz said, crossing his massive arms. He didn’t even bother to lower his voice as he added, “Away from your own brand of poison ivy.”

Luke heard Sian’s footsteps, knew she had to have caught Taz’s words, as he’d meant her too.

Luke shoved Taz against a porch pillar. “Don’t talk about her that way.”

“She fucks you up.” Taz didn’t give for a moment. He’d never particularly liked women, except maybe that shy little neighbour of his. Taz was loyal as fuck to his friends.

“Yeah, she does.” Luke caught a glimpse of shadowed eyes. Then the front door slammed. Great. He’d hurt Sian again.

But it wouldn’t keep him away from her when the sun went down.

“I need to take care of her.”

“This is about fucking. This is not about you taking care of her, unless you mean making sure she comes.”

Trust Taz to lay it out without icing.

“She hates that I’m her little brother. It disgusts her.”

“I saw how she looked when I drove up,” Taz said. “She looked hot. You’d messed with her.”

Luke didn’t deny it.

“So she may feel dirty for lettin’ you at her, but she likes it. Trust a woman not to be honest about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Taz slid free of Luke’s grip. “You asked me to come here and help you haul your shit to my place.”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. I, ah, I’m sorry I got intense.”

Taz cocked his head, making no secret of studying Luke. “You think if she knew the real you, she’d want that action?”

Remembering the innocent shock in Sian’s pewter eyes when he’d talked about his latest threesome, Luke knew Taz was right. Sian wasn’t likely to get on her knees for him and let him play Dom.

Except she was.

She’d agreed to his terms, so he could have her how he wanted. If she kept to their bargain—and Sian was honourable to a fault—she’d get on her knees if he ordered her to do it.

His breath caught. It had taken all his control to pleasure her so coldly without taking her again, but he’d wanted to make his point—that he was in control.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut.

Sian brought out the best of him.

He remembered her teaching him how to make a bed, how to use a fancy Mac computer, how to play tennis and mix drinks.

The irony was, she also brought out the worst in him.

Sick, wrong.

Fine. If she wanted to see them that way.

Luke told himself he didn’t care.

* * * *

Taz glared at his best friend as he drove through the heart of downtown San Diego. Luke had been quiet since their standoff and Taz knew him well enough to know the door was shut and bolted on that convo.

He growled to himself, hands tightening on the steering wheel. Goddamn Luke.

Luke had circles under his eyes. He was pale as winter grass. He also looked like he’d dropped a few pounds, which was not a good thing in their dangerous line of work. Not in the middle of summer.

It was all that bitch Sian’s fault.

Taz had known Luke had a thing for her the first time he had got Luke drunk. And okay, Taz had had dark motives of his own that night. Luke was hot. And he was lonely. And he was vulnerable.

Ripe to fall in Taz’s bed.

Oh, sure, Luke thought he was straight, but Taz had taken a lot of straight guys to bed with the proper persuasion. None of them had left without experiencing mind-blowing pleasure, even if a couple of them had been totally freaked out afterwards.

But Taz took who he wanted, when he wanted. Like Luke, he was a survivor, though in his case, he hadn’t had it as lucky as Luke. Taz’s mom hadn’t hooked up with a rich guy—the last thing his Monster Dearest had cared about was giving young Taz a better life.

Taz had been booted out at fifteen when his mother had discovered him in bed with a girl and a guy from his school, but that sure as fuck beat praying on the cold stone floor of the basement until his knees ached and he had trouble getting to his feet.

So yeah, he’d wanted Luke. Only Luke insisted on going home every night to his Sian, even those rare times Taz had enticed him into a threesome. Taz hadn’t had the opportunity to break Luke in.

Now Taz cared about him too much to want to bed him. He screwed just about anything that walked, but Luke… Luke had become important to him.

As he pulled up and looked at his friend he felt another growl rise in his throat.

Goddamn Sian. Luke was so into her he couldn’t see straight, but she was too good for him.

If Taz could find a way to help Luke make the break from her, he’d do it. He was already working it out. She had problems with Luke being her little stepbrother? He could work with that.

Yeah, he’d do anything to protect his best friend from that bitch.

Luke blinked as Taz cut off the engine. He hadn’t been tracking their progress. He saw Taz was looking out the window and something soft flickered over his face.

When they got out of the truck, Luke saw Jenny Ann Green was out watering her flowers. She lived in the small cottage next to Taz.

Taz remained beside his truck as if rooted there, which was weird. Usually he was Mr Smooth.

“Hey, Jenny,” Luke said, trying to work up something friendly in his voice. He felt like an empty crater. He opened the back of the SUV and pulled out his heavy gym bag. He was going to spend himself like fallen change in Taz’s big, fully equipped home gym. He needed to work pain out of his pores, sweat and bleed and maybe he’d be able to fucking think.

“Luke.” The little brunette gave him her warm smile. She was really hot when she smiled, which always perplexed Luke because Taz couldn’t miss how beautiful she was. And yet, he’d never talked about how he’d been with her, how he’d made his move.

“How’s the gardening going? Do you need help with that?” Luke asked. Her wheelbarrow was heaped with spent flower heads and weeds.

“No.” Her colour deepened as Taz finally looked in her direction. He nodded, but still no words. “I also weeded Taz’s yard and Zane’s.”

“Zane?” It was such an unusual name that it couldn’t be a coincidence. The rookie had moved in next to Taz—since when?

“Yeah, I suggested this was a good place to live and…speaking of Zane…” Taz drawled.

Zane Newmark the Third crossed the yard towards Jenny, white-blond hair in his eyes. He looked like a beach bum, from his Malibu shorts to the leather cord tied around his neck. Lean and almost delicate in build, Zane was the rook. The fact he’d moonlighted the previous summer as a smoke jumper didn’t cut him slack with the veterans at Station 57. He was an EMT as well as a firefighter, but unlike Taz and Luke, he didn’t have years of experience.

Hell, Luke figured he and Taz had learnt their medical training the old fashioned way—on the street.

“Jen, it’s too hot for you to be out here without a hat.”

And then Luke saw it. The big rook had a hat with a big silk yellow flower on it. He put it on Jenny’s head. Jeez, did the guy have one on hand just in case one of his female neighbours needed to borrow it? Was he for real?

Taz was watching Jenny laughing up at Zane, and a cold thrill swooped down Luke’s spine. He knew that look. Predatory.

“What gives with Zane being your neighbour? I never noticed you getting soft on him back at the station house,” Luke muttered.

“Oh, Zane doesn’t make me soft,” Taz said.

“Jesus.”

“Someone’s livin’ in a glass house.”

“This is up close and personal for you, isn’t it? I mean, Christ. Jenny’s your neighbour and now so is Zane and you frickin’ work with him.”

Taz ignored Luke’s words. With a meditative look on his face that didn’t fool Luke for a second, he walked over to the other two, knelt beside Jenny and put his hand on her bare upper arm, banding it with his fingers.

Luke saw Jenny jerk by reflex and then saw her look at Taz and flush. A moment later she relaxed.

Taz was coaching her. She didn’t know it, was too innocent to have a friggin’ clue, but that hand on her didn’t lie. Taz was preparing her to accept him.

Fine. Whateverthefuck.

Luke didn’t have time for the sexual soap opera his best friend jonsed on. He wanted to warn Jenny…hell, warn Zane, but he knew they’d be shocked if he spelt out what was clear as neon.

“I’m going to use the gym.”

Taz straightened, giving him an assessing look. “Good idea. You’ve lost weight and you can’t afford to do that.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Taz’s eyes narrowed, the green suddenly sharp as broken alley glass. “You don’t get to endanger the team.”

And Luke couldn’t argue with that. It was why he’d decided to start spending more time here. His focus was fucked up from the shit with Sian and he’d been losing pounds for weeks, strung out, on edge.

The sex with her should have settled something, shouldn’t it? And later tonight he’d go back, have her again. He had hours to think about what he could do to her.

He winced as he repeated that last sentence in his head.

What he could do to her.

So okay, fine. This was never going to be mutual. This was not them in bed together, in a relationship.

And he was a big loser, because that was exactly what he’d always ached for. Too bad he realised it now when he’d fucked up any chance of having it.

* * * *

As Sian placed a pan on the stove, it made a loud clattering sound that almost made her jump.

“Damn it, woman,” she scolded herself.

She had the stereo on, Bonnie Raitt singing ‘I can’t make you love me’.

And wasn’t that the truth.

As she lit another burner on the gas stove, she wondered just who she was making this fancy dinner for. Normally it would be Luke. Normally he’d be sitting on the marble island across from her, reading a newspaper. If he did the crossword, he’d get her to help him with it. He had a knack for mechanical things, for practical things around the house. He was also an avid reader.

She’d shared books with him in this kitchen.

Now the space felt as empty as a deserted cathedral. She’d made lists of supplies she needed for Coffee Dreams, more white chocolate cherry scones, more almond croissants and she needed to get Dharma to remember to put all the grounds in that fancy strainer she’d ordered from France. If the staff remembered to fill it the night before, it produced thick coffee syrup, perfect for making espresso brownies.

Luke purely loved those brownies, said they gave him a double caffeine shot of coffee and chocolate.

Luke.

What this kitchen was missing was Luke.

How long was he going to stay at his friend Taz’s?

Would Luke share what had happened between them with Taz?

Sian flushed, hating that she was still as insecure as she’d been in high school. Her insecurity had led to the worst mistake of her young life, getting in a car with Drake Morris, who was itching to race. They’d gone too fast and then she’d been screaming, her hand burning and Drake… Drake was dead.

It was Luke who had come to the hospital since his mother and her father were in the Bahamas. Luke who had been there when they’d unwrapped the bandages on the stubs of her amputated fingers.

God, she’d felt like the Phantom of the Opera with her scars but he’d deliberately taken that ruined hand and put the back of it against his forehead.

“Thank fuck you’re all right,” he’d whispered. “Jesus, Sian. Jesus!”

It had been the only thing he’d ever said about the whole fiasco. No ‘you should have known better’, like Mr Henry.

Yeah, she’d known better. After she’d gone through it.

As she watched vegetables simmering, she slumped on the kitchen stool. There had to be a way to get back what she and Luke had lost. Sex was the snake in their garden, screwing everything up, but Luke had made it clear he did not want to go back.

So where did it leave them?

When the kitchen door swung open, Sian jumped.

Luke stood in shadows, so she couldn’t read him. His posture gave her the impression he was tired. He dropped the gym bag on the hardwood floor.

“Aren’t you supposed to say ‘hi honey, I’m home’?” she asked, trying to make a joke.

His face didn’t change expression so she guessed she’d failed.

“I didn’t tell you I’d be home for dinner.”

She shrugged. “I’m used to making enough for both of us.”

“I hate this distance between us, but it won’t stop me, Sian.”

Hoo boy. Luke was never one to dance around something. “I know it won’t.” Not her Luke.

“When you were in the car accident, you could have died. The firefighters got you out, saved your life.”

She nodded.

“And I knew I wanted to be one of them, because they saved my family.”

Her. She was Luke’s family.

Tears came. She swallowed, trying not to break down.

“You really think it’s wrong that we’re together?”

She had to suck in a deep breath. What she wanted was to be in his arms, not have him standing across the kitchen from her. “I think it’s wrong that I want you,” she said, her voice barely above the bubbling sounds of cooking food. “But you could never be wrong. You’re…spectacular.”

Luke blinked and then he hesitantly came further into the kitchen. When he sat at his familiar stool at the island, she let out a breath.

That easy, it felt right again. Okay, maybe not everything was fixed, but he was home.

“Spectacular.” His dimple flashed for a moment and he was blushing.

Her Luke.

“I don’t have words for what you are,” she said.

“Jesus, Sian.” He reached out and gripped her hand.

She knew she’d be embarrassed if she didn’t get herself together. “So I’m making tofu chicken Marsala.”

“Chicken Marsala. Remember how we never got to Marsala, Italy, because you wanted to go back to Syracuse?”

So much shared history. It complicated things, but it also gave comfort. “Yep. You took me back to the museum there, even though I know you weren’t so hot on looking at prehistoric cooking pots.”

He squeezed her hand and let it drop, then tugged the newspaper towards him and opened it.

Was it going to be this easy?

And then he said, “After dinner, we’ll go to my room.”

Chapter Eight

As he had so many nights, Luke watched Sian cook.

She was as expressive as a dancer as she moved around the large kitchen, opening one cedar cabinet that was filled with spice before shaking some over her creation—smelt like cumin to his trained senses—and then she rocked back in her sandals, humming to herself as she took out the pepper and garlic.

“Lots,” Luke said. “I like it hot and spicy.” Come to think of it, Sian cooked the way she had sex.

She smiled at him, oblivious to his evil thoughts. “You always want a ton.”

“Yeah.” Unlike other nights, he didn’t pretend to read the local paper. Instead, he watched her openly, her long, slim, tanned legs, her shorts that curved around her ass so he wanted to cup that fullness in his hands as she fell back against him, purring…

And yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

They’d had sex, they’d fucked.

They had not made love.

He had no reason, no excuse to go over and put his hands on her shoulders, to kiss her and use the intimate voice of a lover in her ear.

He could fuck her, but he couldn’t have her.

Damn, why had he thought having sex with her at last would finally solve everything between them?

The truth was, he was sitting here still aching for what he didn’t have.

“How was work?” she asked, her tone so casual he had the sense she was leading up to something.

“Helped clean up after an apartment fire. Seniors.”

“Oh no!” She spun around, moving so she stood on the other side of the island. Her grey eyes were dark with compassion. Luke figured she wouldn’t last in his job. Too sensitive. You had to have some distance in order to help people. Sian was much better offering coffee, muffins and empathy in Coffee Dreams.

“No one was killed, but some folks lost a lot of their possessions.” And you couldn’t replace that, pictures of family, mementos from treasured holidays.

She reached out and squeezed his hand.

He swallowed and put her palm against his cheek, hurting for her. His penis was engorged, full and ready for her. He wanted to pull her onto his lap and have her…but then it would be over, and he didn’t want it to be over.

“Did you and your friend talk?”

“My friend?” Luke was confused by her direction.

“Taz.”

Oh. She was wondering if he’d talked to Taz about her. Sian had always been sensitive to what people said about her, self-conscious.

“No. We were hung up with the whole saving people thing.”

She nodded, pushing back the hair gone curly from the steam from her pots. “Of course.”

Keep with the programme. Forget the intimacy he couldn’t have. Their bargain was for sex. Pure, raw, wild sex.

“Will the tofu splatter much?” he asked.

Sian frowned, looking back at her cooking food.

“No. I’ve basically finished. Just need to stir it as it marinates.”

“Then we might as well get a start on tonight.”

Her eyes were huge. She licked her lips.

“I’d like a little foreplay this time.” He was surprised his voice didn’t crack. His hands were shaking.

“F-foreplay?”

“Yeah, you know, the appetiser.”

“Uh-huh.” She sounded dazed. Well hell, he was just warming up. And he needed right now, as much as sex, to let his inner Dom out. He wanted to give her a touch of the lash, using only his voice, his commands.

“Lose the shorts.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

She gulped in a deep breath, staring at him. Had he pushed her too hard? But he needed her to submit to him. He needed to push her.

“You want a strip tease…while I’m cooking dinner?”

“As long as it doesn’t put you at risk of getting burned.” The caretaker in him would never allow that. “I’ll lift the pots, transfer the food.”

She cocked her head, as if she were working it out like a problem recipe. It made him want to smile even though his body was deadly earnest, on slow boil like their dinner. “That could work.”

He raised his brows.

Sian flushed, but then her hand went to the elastic band of her shorts and she pulled them loose. They fell to her feet.

“Kick them away.” He was breathing hard, staring at her lacy white panties. Had she chosen them for him? They looked fresh and virginal and he remembered the tight feel of her as she’d milked him. She was the next thing to innocent. The thought of that added a hard edge to his arousal.

He wanted to possess her. Completely. He wanted no other man to ever put his mouth to her pussy, to drag her close so her thighs hugged his head as he licked her to pleasure, sucked her under, made her sweat, cry out at his whim.

“The way you look at me.” She had her hand at her throat, almost protective.

Jesus, he thought Taz was predatory. But it was nothing compared to how he wanted her. “If we lived back when they made cave art, I’d hunt you and I’d drag you to my cave,” he said.

“Some primitive people had taboos about…family members being together.”

“That’s just bullshit!” He flashed. “If it still shames you that you come for your kid stepbrother, fine, but we’re not related.”

“But we are.” Tears shone in her eyes. “You’re my family. My only family. When—if I screw up this sex thing with you, you’ll go away.”

Shit.

“No. I won’t.” He’d never go away, but even if he tried to reassure her, he wouldn’t touch her fear. He had to show her. Did he have it in him to be patient for her? He was impulsive, hot blooded. Sian needed to feel surrounded by him, needed to see he was the foundation, not a shaky new wall. “I know this sex thing changes a lot, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. Haven’t I always looked after you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to stop now. But I’m also not backing down at the fire between us. You can call it forbidden, but I make you come.”

She turned her head away, as if it still shamed her. That pissed him off, but he throttled down his hurt into action. “Lose the panties.”

“Luke!” Now she looked at him again.

Oh, yeah, he was going to make her do this. If she wanted everything tidy, if she needed things as orderly as her kitchen, tough shit. If he didn’t fit in her world, he’d make a place for himself as her lover.

He waited. A Dom did not repeat a command. His submissive lover either obeyed or gave him a reason why not.

She dropped her head. “All right.”

He did not acknowledge her acceptance but continued to wait.

She put her hands on her hips and shimmied. His pulse pounded in his temples. His hands clenched as Sian loosened her underwear and let it fall. After a brief hesitation, she kicked it away.

Her curls looked soft and he remembered they’d felt like down feathers to his touch. They were a tangled wet thicket between her thighs.

Sian put a hand down, as if to shield herself and hide the way that performing for him, even reluctantly, was turning her on.

He looked her in the eye.

She dropped the hand.

The only sounds in the kitchen were the tick of the clock and the sound of their dinner slowly cooking on the stove.

But it wasn’t the only thing he planned to heat tonight.

“Jump onto the island.” He patted the cool marble surface.

She looked puzzled as she studied where he had his newspaper spread out, but it was a large counter, spacious enough for how he wanted her. He watched her work it out, offering no help.

Chewing her lip, she approached him. Despite those long killer legs, she had to get on the stool on the opposite side to bring herself up to counter height. He heard her grunt, watched her wobble as she steadied herself. And then the most beautiful woman he’d ever known was on the island counter, bare bottomed, just the way he’d pictured her so many times as he’d sat here, pretending interest in his paper.

She perched with her side to him, hiding her more delicious secrets.

Luke shoved the newspaper aside and reached for her, turning her around to face him.

Sian hiked her knees up in surprise.

He smiled, faced with open female body, with Sian’s musky scent, with her startled eyes and her hands clenched in his forearms.

“How I want it, Sian,” he reminded her firmly. “When I want it.”

“Yes…” The word left her in a whoosh. Her hard nipples adorned her breasts like jewelled tips, moving up and down rapidly with her breath.

But it was the pink succulent flesh revealed to his gaze that he wanted, that he craved.

“This is what I’m hungry for. This is what I want to taste.”

“But…dinner…”

“Can keep.”

He spread her wider so her trembling thighs framed his shoulders. Her eyelids fell, her colour high. He savoured the moment and then struck, putting his mouth on her, uncompromising.

She screeched.

“Oh, honey, you need this,” he murmured, feeling how tightly strung she was, how needy. “Those fuckers you dated didn’t take care of you.”

“I didn’t…” He licked her and she sucked in a breath, shaking, on the verge already with her body open and pulsing against his lips, desperate for everything he could give her. “I didn’t go out with them for that.”

“I don’t get that. I’m not an asshole, but if there’s a chance for sex with someone attractive and not crazy, why not?” He laved the side of her sex in one long move and her hands kneaded his back, her fingernails stabbing into his skin.

“Uh uh uhhhhhh.”

Her head fell back, her hair spilled from its clip and he stared at her arched body, at her heaving breasts, his hands keeping her spread and wanton. Even now her innate shyness would probably come between them if he allowed it.

And he would allow nothing to keep her from him. Not now while he tasted her, drank from her, deep and dark like one of those exotic honeys she got from the countryside, made by bees fed on cactus flowers.

He sipped and nuzzled, used his breath on her. She pushed against his lips, demanding, now so far gone she would do anything for her relief.

He reached up and tugged one of her nipples through her silk top.

She gasped at the sudden roughness in contrast with the gentle attentions of his mouth.

“I would like to see some nipple clamps on your pretty tits the next time I eat you,” he told her, unable to stop the images, the need that rode him. Taz had been right, he couldn’t hide this part of himself from her. He only hoped he wouldn’t scare her so she ran from him again.

“Nipple clamps?”

“I’d pick them out with you on the internet,” he said. “I’ve used them on my ladies before and on myself when I want a bit of rough. We’ll get some with little peridots or fresh water pearls dangling so they’d look like jewellery on my princess.”

“Don’t they hurt?” She gasped as he devoured her whole, spreading her even wider with his big thumbs and taking the most sensitive part of her into his mouth.

“It’s a beautiful pain,” he told her, mouth brushing her sex as he spoke so that his words doubled as a caress. “And I want to hurt you a little. I think you’d let me do it. I think you’d begin to love it.” He’d coach her slowly. Teach her to kneel, to love a paddle on her ass.

The idea of spanking her flipped his switch.

Suddenly he was done, ready for the main course.

She stabbed him with her nails when he pulled back, on the edge.

“Easy, princess, you’ll get what you need. I got it right here.” He shoved down his Malibu shorts and lifted her easily from the counter. He sat down on the stool and then put her on him, impaling her hard in one stroke.

“Uh!” He knew he should do this some classy way, that he should have waited until they could have soft sheets and a civilised mating, but he’d been raging for her, couldn’t wait to bury his prick in her.

He messed her top, working her breasts through the fabric.

“Ride me, honey.”

She blinked as if she’d expected him to take her.

“Pleasure me,” he ordered. “Pleasure us both.”

He saw her think about it and then flush again as she saw her legs dangling on either side of his, her bare lower body, the place where their bodies met. This wasn’t soft and romantic, this was hard core.

“Luke, I can’t do this,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “Fuck my cock.”

He could see his crudity embarrassed her, but it also got her hotter. She was so wet he slid easily as she lifted herself on him and then let herself go, crashing down, letting him fill her.

She was so tight it had to be slightly uncomfortable for her, but she seemed to go for that bit of hurt spicing her pleasure.

But suddenly she froze. “We didn’t use anything again.”

The first time had been so unplanned, but he’d always used protection, and Sian… God knew how long since she’d got any.

Fuck it. “I wouldn’t mind making you pregnant.”

“What?” Again he’d managed to shock the shit out of her. Somehow it was hot to do that while she was taking him, all of him deeply buried inside her.

“I wanted to the first time. You said you were on something…”

“I take birth control pills to stay regular,” she muttered. He could tell she didn’t have this kind of intimate conversation often. But he was her lover now, damn it. And they would talk about this.

“You don’t get your period that often.”

“Oh my God!”

He had to laugh, she looked so mortified.

“Come on, it’s the twenty-first century, honey. And I do live with you.”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze, bashful again. “I worked it out, I don’t have to have it often.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Why suffer with it when you don’t have to?” And she had suffered. He’d known what it was that occasionally made her grouchy and sore, not that he’d been stupid enough to say anything. He’d given her back rubs on the guise that she’d had long days and he’d known she was hurting when she’d allowed him to do it. “But if nature happens, if I knock you up, would you mind my baby?”

“No.” The answer was automatic, from the heart.

And Jesus, did it turn him on. He made a silent vow that whenever he was inside her he’d work on that, on making her pregnant. He knew she wanted kids and why not? They had this big empty house. They both ached for family. And if he made her pregnant it was another shackle on her, another way of keeping her his.

He lifted her off him.

“Luke!”

She sounded desperate.

“Easy, honey.” He positioned her in front of the stool, bent her over and widened her legs with one of his. “Hold onto the stool.”

“What are you—”

He thrust inside her, taking her from behind. Nothing gentlemanly about this.

“This is your little stepbrother doing you and you love it,” he whispered.

“Oh, Luke…” He heard regret and a little bit of shame in her tone. She was still ashamed that she’d let him do her. It hurt, hearing that, so he took her hips and battered into her, her succulence making juicy sounds as he fucked.

“Stop me if you don’t want it,” he taunted her.

“You know…I can’t,” she gasped. Her pussy tried to grip him, milking him as he ploughed her.

“That’s because you’re my whore,” he whispered, his own pain making him want to hurt her. “Because you agreed to give this to me once a day.”

If he expected her to back down at his harshness, he’d forgotten her spine. “I like giving you this once a day.”

But her tone was stifled.

That didn’t stop her from receiving him, all of him as he buried himself in her again and again.

He smacked one butt cheek and she cried out, clenching on him, coming as a red hand print bloomed deliciously on her ass.

He shoved deep, the stool falling away so they were working against the counter.

Everything he was, all his frustrated love, spilled into her.

“Luke…”

And suddenly he felt like Cinderfella after midnight. He pulled out, tugged up his shorts.

He was seeping out of her body. Her hand went to her thigh as if to stop it.

He lifted her onto his lap, his throat tight. “Don’t. Let it stay in there a while.”

He expected her to argue with him, to want to talk this out. He knew it was crazy, this need to make her pregnant. It was unlikely with her taking something.

But she only sagged against him, her cheek pressed to his neck.

Family. She was his family. And he was desperate to keep her any way he could.

Chapter Nine

Sian felt self-conscious huddled in Luke’s lap. And wonderful. And terrified.

Their post-sex record was disastrous.

The first time she’d run away and locked herself in her room.

The second time they’d almost been interrupted by his best friend—who seemed to have it in for her.

But for right now, she loved listening to Luke’s heart beating, loved this closeness. She was hungry for it, as much as she had been for the sex. As her hand ran over his shoulder, she was conscious again that he was younger than she was.

“It don’t matter a damn,” he said, as if he were reading her mind.

“Of course it does. When I’m forty, you’ll be—”

“You’ll be hot and so will I.”

“Luke…” She had to go shower. She’d lost her mind and jumped on a whole new crazy train with the let’s-get-pregnant thing. What the hell?

“It’s hormonal.”

“My current insanity?”

“Did you or did you not talk to me once about artificial insemination?”

Sian swallowed. Okay, yes, she’d told him she thought she might try to have a baby one day if she didn’t find someone. And yes, as the years went by, the ‘someone special’ had narrowed down to Luke. Even with her compulsive dating, she still spent most of her time with him. She enjoyed being with him more than her dates.

“We shouldn’t do this on a whim.”

“Sian—”

“What if we screw up our…friendship, for lack of a better word? And then I get pregnant. How does that work?”

Luke’s jaw was tight. “We don’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know us.”

“Our parents were disasters in the marriage department.”

“Until they hooked up with each other.”

She pushed her hair back. “They weren’t very good parents once they hooked up.”

“We will be.”

“Luke…”

“As much as I know you enjoy torturing yourself after we do the deed, my thigh’s numbing out.” He lifted her gently off his lap and she felt cold and sticky and stupid.

“I need to shower.”

“Sian, damn it, wait—”

She was in the hallway when he swept her off her feet.

“Our bargain.”

“Screw the bargain.” He didn’t say anything more and Sian was afraid to. When had talking to him become so complicated?

He kicked open his bedroom door and strode into the en suite, putting her down onto the bathroom mat. She would’ve removed her top, but he was already on it, brushing away her fingers. “You’re cold as ice. Fuck.”

“I’m just a little—”

“Try shocky.”

“Am not.”

“Don’t argue with a medical professional.” He switched on the water as she sat in her bra, feeling somehow ridiculous. She didn’t have time to think about that, as a second later he made an impatient sound and turned her around so he could unhook it. The bra sailed to the floor where her top lay. His T-shirt and shorts were off in a shot before he herded her into the shower.

“Ouch, too hot!”

“It’s more than the room temperature you prefer. Stop being such a baby.”

She tried not to look at the hard, tanned body that had everyone at work panting.

“You’re crowding me.”

“Tough. You need it.” He took some liquid soap in his hands and cupped her between her legs.

“Oh my God!” She was shocked at this sudden intimacy, even though they’d just had sex.

“I’m going to touch you a lot,” Luke said. “Get used to it.”

“I’m a very private person. I need my space.”

“You can have as much space as you like when I’m not touching you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Sure it does.”

“You give a lot of orders for a younger man.”

“You never minded so much before.” It was true. She deferred to Luke on a lot of things. Like the time she’d needed a new counter in Coffee Dreams and when they’d had to reinforce the eroding beach below the house.

She studied him, seeing the hawkish planes of his face, the bones as stark and primitive as a Cubist painting under the fall of water, the bright shower spotlight.

“You know, some older women like being cougars. Like the world knowing they’re so sexy they can attract—and keep—a man with a young sex drive happy.”

“I’m not really the cougar type.”

“You’re my cougar.”

“Cut it out.” She tossed a sponge at him.

“Now you’ve done it.”

They were playing like they were in the pool. Water splashing, Luke gripping her, using his strength to win while she tried to tickle under his armpits. But now they weren’t kids. Now it wasn’t innocent as she became absorbed in how her slick body felt against his.

When she felt his erection brush her stomach, she inhaled sharply.

Luke didn’t let her go, just looked at her soberly as the water continued to fall on them. She knew if she made an issue about the one time a day rule, he’d let her go.

When she didn’t say anything, Luke lifted her, so incredibly strong. She felt small and almost frail in his arms.

He pushed her against the tiles and she hissed at the sudden chill against her back and then hissed again as he impaled her. Oh, he was so… Oh…

“Take it.” His voice was a plea, a demand. Now he looked younger, in need of her.

She couldn’t stop herself from twisting a hand in his hair. Her back slid up the tiles as he thrust, fell as his hips flexed. His heart was pounding against hers, his eyes locked with hers as if holding her in this moment.

She dropped her gaze, unable to bear the intensity.

“No, you’re with me. I’m inside you,” Luke growled.

He felt big and brutally male. He was raw fantasy come to life, making her fingers scrabble against tile and then he whispered, “Dig them in me. I want your marks on my skin.”

Tentatively she put her hands on his wet shoulders, tried to hold on.

“Bumpy ride.” He put her ass on the edge of the protruding marble shelf. “Brace yourself.”

“Ohhh, uh, uh!” The sounds coming from her were guttural as he took and claimed, as he held her still while he hammered inside. He fucked her and then pulled out, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it over her swollen sex, using it like a sex toy to please her.

Jesus, just watching him do that was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen, this young, beautiful man, this forbidden man, pleasuring her…

“Take it, use it on you.” He put her hand on his penis and she stroked herself with the fat bulb, moaning as her body tightened, exploded while he crushed her, his semen jetting out, warm as the falling water.

And then there was only the steam and their frantic breathing. She couldn’t look at him. What would she say? They had established a bizarre set of rules for the sex, but now they’d jumped the line yet again.

Luke lifted her off the shelf and placed her under the water. His hands moved freely over her, cupping her breasts and playing with her nipples, her back to his front. He used soap on her hair, caressing her with long, luxuriant strokes between her legs before he pushed her gently to the side so he could matter-of-factly scrub himself, staring at her as his body slowly hardened again in one soapy fist.

She swallowed.

If she didn’t leave, he would take her again.

His blue-flame eyes heavy lidded, face soft with his recent release, Luke cut off the water. “You’re not leaving my bedroom tonight,” he said, voice soft, almost a threat.

Just like that, the slow heat building inside made her wet again, even though she was achy from taking him twice.

She reached for a towel, but he shook his head. “I’ll do it.”

It was heaven to have him touching her, dabbing moisture carefully from her shoulders, her lower back, between her breasts. It felt as significant as some kind of ceremony between them. Her throat tightened so she couldn’t speak, just move from side to side so she could be dried and buffed like a work of art.

He ignored himself, his body still beaded with moisture that evaporated in the air-conditioned space. Sian couldn’t stop her gaze from going to his lower belly, his left hip with the scar that she knew he’d got fighting a summer wildfire, and the heavy sex that rose blatantly towards the ceiling.

“You do yoga before bed, right?”

Startled, she looked at his face, blushing because it was obvious where her attention had been focused. She nodded.

“So we’ll do that next. We can…” They left the bathroom and hesitated in his spartan bedroom. He didn’t have much, just a guitar and bookshelves. Luke always said Sian did the collecting for the both of them. “Use this space?”

“But we’re naked.”

“I thought there was such a thing as naked yoga,” Luke teased.

She made a face. “There is, but I always thought it would be distracting. I’m too human not to want to look at someone else’s knobs and bobs.”

“Me too, but I want to follow your before-bed routine and I don’t want to put anything on.” He gave her a straight look. “Do you?”

“No.” Her voice was soft.

“Then I guess we do it naked.”

Luke settled himself on the rug. He looked up at her and then held a hand out.

Sian took it and knelt beside him. They’d just had wild bathroom sex. Why did this feel far more intimate? She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing for a T-shirt.

“What now?” Luke asked.

“I usually start with cat-cow.”

“Show me.”

Her cheeks were really burning now as she moved into position, getting on her hands and knees and arching her body like a cat before collapsing it towards the floor. The up and down motion made her breasts sway and she was conscious of how much the asana resembled the sexual act. From the wide-eyed look Luke was giving her, he agreed.

Sian laughed.

“You’re really asking for it, doin’ that.”

“You said do my yoga. This energises the spinal column and works out the kinks,” she said.

“Oh yeah, that would work out my kinks.” His dimple flashed.

“Come on, try it.” Again she had this weird dichotomy that they were playing like kids and also like the adults they’d become. There was a buzz of sexual anticipation. Her body slickened, preparing itself for him again.

He moved behind her as if to mount her and she swung around, glaring at him.

He laughed and swatted her ass.

The sting on her skin only increased her excitement.

He obediently got onto his hands and knees and began to copy her movements, but his enormous erection made the pose incredibly erotic so she sat back, giggling.

“Hey, I’m trying to do yoga here.”

“You look like Kokopelli.”

“The hunchback fertility god? But I’m not packing a flute.”

She raised her eyebrows meaningfully and he laughed again. “Funny. You think you’re so funny, princess.”

Her eyes stung. It was just like before…when they’d been friends. When the lid had been firmly over what was simmering between them.

“Oh no, dinner!” She shot to her feet.

“I’m not hungry, are you?”

She shook her head impatiently at him. He was on her heels as she strode back to their kitchen. The lights were still burning and the room was fragrant with spices. The newspaper he’d been reading on the counter had fallen to the floor. It embarrassed her when she remembered why, Luke shoving it aside as he—

“Let me.” His bigger body moved in front of hers and he switched off the burners. He turned around and she didn’t resist when he pulled her close. Protective, Luke was always so protective.

When he meshed his fingers unselfconsciously to her damaged hand her eyes prickled again. “I want to take you out tomorrow night,” he said as he nuzzled her neck, smelling her freshly washed skin.

She tensed. “Out, as in public?”

His face hardened. “Yes, as in I want you to be my girlfriend and I see no reason why we can’t share a meal. Fuck knows you did a lot of that with a ton of men over the years and they meant nothing to you.”

“Luke—”

“You don’t want to go because I’m not as fancy as your other men?” He touched her, his hands knew her, claimed her. “But I turn you on. You let me put my working class hands all over you.”

She laughed and he glared at her. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you.” Oh, shit. He was still so vulnerable. She didn’t know what to do, what to say, but her body surrendered so she melted against him, feeling his firm body, his lean hips under her hands. His skin had a muskier scent than hers as she put her nose against it and drank him in. “This is happening fast and I’m scared. A real date with you…” She gulped.

“Sian.” He tugged her hair so he could look at her. “I’ll keep you safe, even from me.”

She wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but he kissed her cheek and she could only lean close to him, sharing closeness, sharing breath. “You are the most beautiful man, inside and out.”

Luke narrowed one eye. “Does that mean ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on dinner?”

His pushiness made Sian laugh again. “All right,” she whispered. “I guess we can try it.”

“So how about the rest of our naked yoga?”

She blinked. “I…can’t think of a position.” She couldn’t think of anything but how much her body wanted his again.

“I can.”

Luke lifted her onto the counter and spread her legs wide. Her head fell back as he put his mouth on her, licking her deeply, eating her like succulent fruit. “Oh, my God!” she whimpered.

He looked at her, his pupils huge and black, his lips shiny from the intimate kiss. He reached up and cupped one hard-tipped breast possessively before he went back down on her, laving her, making her scream.

Luke just laughed before his broad, rough palms spread her even wider.

“Look how hot I get you, sister dearest.”

Bastard. But she couldn’t say the word, could only cage his skull, keep him exactly where he was, her hips rocking as she gave herself wantonly.

He made her come, his wild woman.

Chapter Ten

“Someone looks like she got spanked.”

“What? Ow!” Sian rubbed the back of her head, which hurt so much her eyes stung.

“Hey, are you all right?” Luke’s big friend Taz was around the counter, taking her arm, his cool green eyes examining her face, her eyes.

Sian flushed. “Fine. I just hit my head on the edge when I was scooping some beans out of the bin. I do it sometimes.”

“That’s a heavy marble counter,” Taz said. “I think you better sit down for a moment. That had to hurt like fuck.”

“Um.”

“Come on.” He herded her onto one of the stools customers used around the espresso machine.

She slid on carefully, wincing a little as her still-tender bottom rubbed smooth wood. She folded her arms, tuning Taz out as much as possible as she gave herself a moment.

“You should put some ice on that.”

“My head’s fine, just throbbing.”

“Not for your head. Your ass.”

She jumped off the stool, getting in Taz’s space. “Listen—”

“If I’m overstepping—”

“You sure as hell are.” Oh shit. Could she just die? Luke’s best friend had somehow guessed Luke had spanked her last night.

Taz shoved his hair back. “He didn’t tell me or anything. I just guessed from the way you were moving around so stiffly. I’ve spanked a lot of women. I know the signs.”

Sian covered her face. “This isn’t happening. I’m still asleep and this has to be a bad dream.”

“He told you to use cream this morning, didn’t he?”

“And yet you are speaking and the nightmare continues…”

“No big to me if you want to have a sore ass.”

“My ass is my business.” She stabbed her index finger under his nose.

Taz let out a long breath. “I think Luke should get shed of you, darlin’.”

“I get that. But he and I…we’re linked.” It settled her, feeling that connection. Somehow it had survived the last couple of rocky days.

He studied her. “All right. Can I get a latte with cinnamon?”

“You can come into Coffee Dreams, but Luke and I are off the menu.” She moved behind the counter, not trying to hide that, yeah, she was sore. The crack of Luke’s hand on her butt had been shocking…but it had excited her. She remembered Luke’s shadowed eyes. He’d wanted to play with her, but he’d also been afraid he was playing too rough.

But he’d made her come again.

Sian had screamed as he shoved two fingers deep into her…the sound of her voice cracking, raw with her release—

“Hey!” Dharma called as she swung open the coffee shop door.

“Hey,” Taz said in a silky, come-and-get-me-baby voice. He gave Dharma an experienced once-over.

Dharma cocked an eyebrow at him, immune as she was to most of their customers.

“You’re pale. Are you all right?” Sian watched as Dharma put her bag in the little locker just inside the storeroom.

“Just some arrhythmia this morning. It’s so dumb I get that when I’m out walking my dog.”

“You should be home lying down!” Sian gripped Dharma’s arm. “I want you to take the rest of the day off.”

“Sian, I took my medication and I’m fine—”

“You should listen to the lady,” Taz said. “The heart is nothin’ to mess around with.”

“Ha.” Dharma gave him an amused glance, but it wasn’t the razor retort she usually let fly when she and Taz squared off. “Where’s Fred, the older guy you usually come in with?” she asked. “I haven’t seen him for a while.”

“He’s married,” Taz said. “That’s why you haven’t seen him for a while.”

Dharma paled. “Hey, he and I had a few laughs. I wouldn’t—”

“That’s what they all say, sweetheart,” Taz said, taking his coffee and shouldering the door.

“Jerk. Big, gorgeous, full-of-himself jerk,” Dharma muttered. “I like Fred. We talk, you know?”

Sian did know, but she’d also felt the undercurrents when the big firefighter with silver-streaked hair had come into Coffee Dreams, even though she knew Dharma didn’t play with married men.

“Why don’t you do the paperwork for a while?” she suggested. “We’re low on our pastry orders again.”

“You’re babying me,” Dharma grumbled, but she sat down behind the small desk in the back. “Weird chemistry between you and Taz.”

“He’s Luke’s best friend. I didn’t know until…recently.”

Dharma’s brows rose. “Uh-huh. So big daddy doesn’t approve of his friend dating you?”

“Something like that.”

“Don’t take it to heart. He doesn’t like women.” Dharma shrugged. “Kind of all hunter-gatherer.”

Sian collapsed into the chair next to her friend. “I did something…unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably good or stupid?” Dharma asked, raising her brows.

“Both.”

“Luke.”

“Yes, I… We spent the night together.”

Dharma grinned.

“Cut that out!”

“I knew you couldn’t resist him forever. Not after I got that calendar.”

Sian stared. “You bought it deliberately!”

“Well, yeah. I thought you’d never let yourself really look at Luke and man…what a waste. And I hardly suffered lookin’ at it, all those hot bodies. Unfortunately Fred kept his swimming trunks on, but for a man in his forties…”

“Dharma.”

“I can appreciate a work of art without tryin’ to buy it.”

“I know.” But she didn’t add she thought maybe it was a good thing Fred didn’t come in here anymore. The stern-faced man didn’t look like he laughed much, but Dharma was too charming for her own good.

“So how was it?”

Sian really did need to talk to someone. “Luke’s slightly…kinky.”

“Mmmmm.”

“You’re not shocked?”

“Hell no. He’s got that vibe. Kinda like his friend, but without Taz’s charming contempt for women.”

Sian grimaced.

“I think Luke’s afraid of showing that side of himself to me.”

Dharma shrugged. “Give him time.”

“I still have issues. Our age difference—”

“If he were an older man would it bother you as much?”

“Um.” She thought about it and then flushed. “No. Guess I’m a stereotype.”

“Just something to think on.”

“And then there’s the sister-brother thing.”

“Tell me truthfully, doesn’t the idea give you a bit of a forbidden thrill?” Dharma asked. “I mean, you are not related by blood so…”

Sian swallowed, and then nodded. “Sometimes. But tonight we go on a date. A real date.”

Dharma leant forward, putting her chin in her hand. “Oops. If I’m serious with a guy I like to hide from the world for at least a month.”

“Yeah!” Sian exclaimed with feeling. “I’m still getting used to being with him. I feel…vulnerable.”

“It’s just a meal, hon.” Dharma squeezed her hand.

“I know. I just can’t shake this weird feeling of depression, like we’re doomed.” She laughed. “Crazy.”

* * * *

“We’re so doomed,” Luke said, flipping through the Yellow Pages in the station.

“It’s just dinner,” Taz said. “Will you chill?”

“This is not one of your overnighters.”

Taz blinked. “Okay, I’m sorry. Shit, I thought sleeping with her would smooth you out.”

“She’s not a laxative.”

Taz grinned. “That’s my man.”

“I’m a wreck.”

“Spanking her.” Taz’s voice was thankfully lowered so the other men in the lounge area wouldn’t overhear. “Intense for your, what…third time?”

Luke stared at Taz in shock. How had the wily bastard known about that? He flashed back to the night before, lying with Sian on the sheets, his dick still heavy and pulsing. He couldn’t get enough of her. He’d ached to bury himself in her again, make her see she was his, but he’d known she was too sore to accept him and they’d wound up…experimenting.

Yeah, her over his lap, the beautiful peachy texture of her bottom under his hands, warming at the crack of his palm. And then he’d stabbed fingers into her and she’d come so hard—

“I know a restaurant,” Taz said, taking a sip of coffee from a cup with the Coffee Dreams logo. Shit. He’d been there, and that’s how he’d somehow guessed about Sian. She must be moving a little stiffly, either from the spanking or the many times they’d gone at it the night before.

Why couldn’t Luke have been a gentleman? Why did he have to use her over and over again?

But his cock twitched under his pants, reminding him why. Because she was soft and wanton and when he’d spanked her she’d been shocked at first, but then so turned on, screaming for it.

He shifted in his chair. “What restaurant?”

“Lucky Charm. It’s got candlelight, secluded booths. Very sensual.”

“Is the food good?”

Luke had already tried a few places, but they were all booked solid. Conventions, birthdays, anniversaries. Shit, he had to line something up fast because, if they got a call, he might forget the dinner plans, might not get a reservation.

“It’s Asian fusion.”

Sounded experimental, which Sian might like. Luke rubbed his hands down his thighs. Damn, he wanted this night to be different from all the other nights she’d gone out. He wanted everything perfect so she’d see they could do this. This date had to work out.

“Okay, I’ll give them a try.” He made the call and got in for dinner at eight. Perfect. “What else?” Flowers. Was it too much a cliché? He chewed his lip as Taz raised his eyebrows at him, sipping his coffee.

“Calla lilies,” Luke muttered, and pulled out his phone to check where the nearest florist was. Maybe he’d have time to visit this afternoon before dinner. If they didn’t get a call then he’d wind up missing the whole thing. It could happen.

“Dude, you can think up types of flowers?”

“Shut up, I live with a woman.” And he picked up flowers for their kitchen sometimes. Sian liked dark calla lilies and sunflowers.

“I’m glad I don’t,” Taz said darkly. “No woman’s gettin’ flowers from me.”

“Not even Jenny?”

That shut Taz up.

“Do you think chocolates would be too much?”

“I think flowers are too much.”

“You seriously never—”

“No. If I want a woman I want her for sex. I’m upfront about that. I don’t dress it up. I want her to ride my dick, not get ideas about changin’ me.”

Luke let out a long breath. “Jesus, you are such a barbarian.”

“What’s up, guys?” Zane asked, looking cheerful as usual. And well rested. And tanned and golden. Geez, the rook was depressing, so young, so perfect, he gleamed. Luke only took comfort that Sian wouldn’t go for a guy who was even younger than he was.

“Nothing. Get lost,” Taz said, flipping Zane off like a bug.

Zane looked like a cross between kicked puppy and narrow-eyed fighter. He nodded to Luke but ignored Taz, who was busy ignoring Zane.

When Zane walked out of earshot, Luke said, “You are such an asshole. I thought you… Um.” He didn’t want to put it into words—that he’d figured Taz was hunting Zane, wanting to bed him.

“He’s not ready for me yet.” Taz took a contemplative drink of his coffee. “I think you’re right, I think this date is doomed. You’re a wreck, buddy.”

Luke put his head in his hands. Flowers, chocolates, Asian fusion. But what he really wanted was Sian to see him in a new light.

Chapter Eleven

Okay, Sian told herself. This was a fresh start. Luke would see her in a new light. She and Luke were lovers. Lovers. But she’d get used to that. He wasn’t a secret she had to keep. And they were going out on a date. That was totally natural.

She swallowed before dragging in a deep breath and staring at her reflection in the long mirror in her bedroom. She’d heard Luke get home about an hour ago, but he must have headed straight for his own bedroom, getting ready for their big night out.

And here she was in hers.

It was…weird.

How could she be so nervous about seeing Luke?

But the tall column of her black dress wasn’t just any dress. It suited her long, slender bones. The neckline came over one shoulder, baring the other. Her hair was up, secured with jewelled pins.

She looked like a barbaric queen, a sexy, wanton queen.

Sian buried her face in her hands. Did she know what she was doing? This was a fuck-me dress. Moreover, it was romantic.

It was the romantic angle that had her opening her closet for the tenth time. Probably there was enough time to change. Luke’s text message earlier had let her know dinner wasn’t until eight—

The knock on her door made her jump. Her heart thundered at she stared at it. After a moment she licked her lips and walked over, opening it.

Luke was in a suit.

The door swung open as it left her hand, her breath whooshed out in a long exhale and she just…stared.

Luke swallowed and his cheeks reddened.

The suit was a dark blue colour with a bronze tie. From the sheen, Sian knew it was silk, custom tailored so it fit Luke like he’d been dipped in it. On his wrist was the heavy gold watch Mr Henry had given him for his nineteenth birthday.

Luke handed her a single dark plum calla lily wrapped in an orange ribbon.

Sian’s eyes filled.

“What? Jesus! What did I do wrong?” Luke looked panicked.

Sian cleared her throat. “Nothing. Just…perfect.”

Luke cocked his head.

“No, really.” She put the flower against her cheek, savouring that he’d brought her a favourite, that he knew what her favourite was.

“Hookay.”

“You look…”

“Yeah, I figured one good suit, you know?” Luke shrugged. “But you, baby…” He reached out and ran a callused fingertip along her bare shoulder. Sian shivered at his touch and his eyes darkened. “Are you real?”

“Very real. I was going to change it,” she admitted.

“What the fuck for? I mean… You look fine. Nice.”

“I see you’ve mastered the male art of bland compliments.”

“I don’t have fancy words. I just see that single strap breaking in my hand at the end of the night,” Luke said.

“Oh.” Heat warmed her cheeks.

“Yeah.”

Luke shifted and then one tanned hand went up to his collar, as if he wanted to tug it looser. Sian thought the last time she’d seen him in a suit had been at his mother’s funeral. And yet he’d worn one for her. He wanted her to know that, despite how this thing between them had started out, it was important to him.

And that scared her even more.

What if everything went wrong tonight?

* * * *

Luke circled around the block once more, feeling strange driving the Jaguar he’d borrowed from Fred. The car was smooth, but it wasn’t his truck and he felt like it was a put-on, just like the suit.

But he couldn’t forget the way Sian had looked at him, wide eyed with shock and appreciation. This was why a man dressed up for a woman and gave her flowers.

Well, no, he thought as he parked the car, then got out to go around and open the door for her. The real reason was sex, because a woman was more likely to be giving if she was treated well. But then he grinned, because that sure as fuck didn’t explain how Taz got so many women to lie down for him.

“What are you thinking about?” Sian asked as he shepherded her towards the restaurant. Then she winced. “Ouch. Another cliché. I just asked you what you’re thinking and earlier you said I look nice.”

Luke huffed out a breath. “Damn. This is awkward.”

“Yeah.” She nodded emphatically.

“Look, I know we got it all backwards. We’ve lived together for years and then we had sex.”

“Then why does this feel so…”

He squeezed her hand. “We’ll get used to it.”

She let out a long breath. “Okay. Sure.”

He grinned again because she sounded as shaky as he felt. He reminded himself he’d been eating with her for years. This was just a meal, he thought grimly. They could get through it.

He opened the door, catching the scent of deep, dark spice. The restaurant was candlelit as Taz had promised, the air warm with people. It was a good sign it was full already.

Sian looked around, closing her eyes and dragging in a deep inhale. “Mmmm. Szechuan.”

He hoped that was a good thing.

“Luke!”

The woman who reached out to grip his hand smiled up at him and Luke felt himself sliding into a nightmare. He recognised her. Marnie, the woman he and Taz had shared last month. Oh, shit. This could not be an accident. Taz had to have known.

Marnie’s long blonde hair slid around her oval face as she kissed his cheek. He could feel Sian watching them. His pulse thudded and sweat slicked his lower back.

“I’m Marnie, I own the place,” she said to Sian, smiling as she gripped Luke’s arm.

“You two know each other?”

“Oh, yeah,” Marnie said.

Luke tugged his arm from Marnie and gave Sian a direct look. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Sian hesitated, and Luke was sure her polite mask would win out.

“Yes, I want to go somewhere else,” she said. She’d obviously picked up something from him.

It was Friday night, restaurant hell night. Line-ups everywhere.

Fuck it. He took her hand, squeezing it as they left the little trap Taz had laid for them.

Outside, the fresh sea tanged the air and he felt immediately freer. He reached out tentatively and took her hand.

“Let’s walk,” he said.

They passed line-ups of people waiting to get into other eateries and clubs. Even the coffee houses were doing booming business, so they’d be hard pressed to get in anywhere. But it didn’t matter. Her hand felt delicate in his. The wind played with her skirts, giving him tantalising glimpses of her long, killer legs.

He wanted to push her into an alley and rub his palm against the warmth between those legs, hear her catch her breath, need him, want him.

“I just want to get lost with you. I want to be someone you just met,” he said.

“No, I don’t want that,” she said, surprising him.

“Would you have gone out on a date with me if I’d been someone who hit on you in Coffee Dreams?” he asked.

“I would have wanted to. I would have told myself you were too young, too gorgeous for me.”

“Gorgeous?” It made him feel better. They stopped so she could look in a window at some women’s clothing. She stared into the shop and he stared at her. In his opinion, nothing she saw there could eclipse what she’d chosen to wear for him tonight.

“Of course you are.”

“I need to hear you say that to me.” Jeez, and wasn’t he turning into a woman.

“I’m sure plenty of women have told you.”

“Look, Marnie was a one nighter Taz and I shared. I’m sorry about that. If I’d known, I’d never have taken you to that place.”

“I’m sure Taz counted on it ruining our evening,” she said. “But you’ve been honest with me about your dating.”

Luke laughed. “It was fucking, not dating. And it was either do her or come home and walk into your bedroom, push the sheet off and climb on you.”

Sian’s eyes were huge, mysterious as dark rain pools. Had he shocked her?

“Oh, yeah, I thought about it. I thought about spreading your thighs and putting my mouth on you and bringing you off so you didn’t get a chance to kick me out.” He throbbed now under his fine suit, wishing they were home in the shadows of her bedroom. He wouldn’t have to talk, just let his hands, his mouth and his body speak for him.

Impatient with feeling confined, he took off the jacket and put it over his arm. Then he put his hand on her bare shoulder, felt the shock of flesh to flesh. She gave a tiny shudder that zapped straight to his balls. If they’d been in her bedroom, he’d have sat on the edge of her bed, lifted her on him, felt her take him from root to tip as her grey eyes went dreamy and breath wisped out of her lips.

“Luke, I can’t think when you touch me,” she admitted in a shaky voice.

He cleared his throat. “It’s just too new,” he said. But he didn’t think that was what it was. He’d always had this intensity directed at her. He’d been blocked by the age difference, by their closeness growing up, but it had been there, his touchstone.

He couldn’t drop his hand. He needed to touch her skin. “Come on, we can get something to eat here.”

They were at the taco shack by the pier.

Sian grinned. “We haven’t been here in years.”

They used to come after school and share sloppy tuna tacos, eating them while they dangled tanned legs over the side of the pier, watching a few men fishing and boats drone lazily by. Now the pier was lit by big globes and the stars were touching the water as the moon rose, made pale in the sky by the falling sun.

“I love living here,” she said as Luke handed her a yellow pepper and an avocado pepper. He’d stuck to the classic, beef and cheese, brimming with spicy chillies. It was messy eating but damn, it tasted good to a hungry man after a long day.

Luke shrugged. “I know it’s not exactly fancy…”

“Stop. It’s more real than any of my other dates.” She wiped her lips with a napkin, looking perfectly content.

But he couldn’t help but compare the top-of-the-line restaurants she’d gone out to, and wasn’t reassured even though he sure as fuck couldn’t have eaten with her under the eye of a woman looking for another kinky hook-up.

“Next time I’ll plan it better.”

But she was watching the falling sun float like a shrinking yellow island. One tendril of hair had fallen from the way she’d swept it back from her face and he was abruptly back in the hallway of their house, remembering their first time together, remembering how her hair had been falling down when he’d tried to help her with her zipper.

“Let’s get out of here,” he rasped.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she went into his arms. He brought his mouth down hungrily on hers, groaning as the soft, lean silkiness of her body brushed him from her breasts to her thighs.

“Sian?”

Sian jerked at the voice and pulled away from Luke.

Luke frowned, then recognised one of their neighbours, Mrs Hutchingson. She had lived beside them for as long as Luke could remember, a busybody who was always telling Sian how to tend her flowerbeds. Luke had never liked her much, especially when he’d first moved in and she’d eyed his cheap clothing like she thought he’d try to jack her car.

“And Luke?” Mrs Hutchingson’s eyes were avid on them. “Were you…kissing?”

Sian swallowed. “We’re dating,” she said calmly. Only Luke could feel her tension.

“Dating? But you’re brother and sister.”

“No, we’re not,” Sian said, before Luke could tell Mrs Hutchingson where to stick her comment.

“You were raised together. I always thought—”

Sian turned to Luke. “Should we walk back to the car now?”

Luke pulled her close, feeling Mrs Hutchingson watching them as they headed back up the hill. “We aren’t doing anything wrong!” he burst out when they were out of earshot.

Sian looked at him gravely. “No.”

His chest was tight. He was scared—scared she’d turn away from him again. Jesus, this first date was like a walk through a fun house.

“I feel like we’re on an obstacle course.”

“You feel it too?”

“It’s like getting pelted by stones. Maybe we should have just kept to ourselves.”

“Would have been easier,” he agreed.

“But that’s not what you needed.” She bent her head and he couldn’t resist reaching out and touching the wisps of hair. “Not after I called what happened between us…wrong.”

It still ached. “What’s wrong is me not being allowed to touch you,” he said. “What’s wrong is being alone in my bed while you tried man after man.”

They reached the top of the hill and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I was afraid I couldn’t ever have what I wanted. It had to be wrong.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because Mr Henry was my father. He wasn’t exactly a great relationship model.” She reached out and touched Luke’s cheek. “And you’re my deepest dream.”

“I don’t have the shine for you,” he said. “I don’t have the class.”

She shook her head and her eyes welled. “How can you say that? When you moved in, I had someone to bake chocolate chip cookies for. It really helped.”

“I’ll suck it up and eat your cookies anytime,” he said, teasing her. “Look, I’m not going to say that people won’t look at us different now we’re seeing each other. We have to break out of the brother-sister mould.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“I hate that you’ll face disapproval. I know you’re…things like that get to you.”

“You too.”

“I don’t care.” He opened the car door for her. When they were both inside, he yanked off the tie. “If we were related by blood… I’d still feel this way. I mean…if we’d grown up and never known or somethin’.”

Now he’d done it. She’d see how sick and wrong he really was.

What she did was reach out and touch him. “Me too. Oh, God. I’ve always wanted you. I used to watch you swimming in the mornings and want to touch your shoulders. I saw you naked in the beach shower once and I just stood there and stood there. I had to make myself walk away, make myself forget how beautiful you are.”

He was feeling moody and pissed off and possessive as fuck. He lifted her so she was facing him. “Take your panties off,” he ordered.

Her pupils expanded, huge in the semi-darkness. Colour flushed her cheeks. “Luke…”

After a moment she obeyed, silk sliding down long legs before tangling awkwardly on one high heel.

“Leave it.” He stared at her, watching her breasts rise and fall hard with the force of her breath. “You’re already wet, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Chapter Twelve

“Don’t worry, baby. The windows are tinted,” Luke said.

Sian could only laugh, because she hadn’t given a thought to that while caught in the molten spell he cast. She was all about his fingers inside her, stroking her like she was his pet.

Then Luke laughed, the harsh lines of his face softening as they only did for her.

“I hadn’t thought of it,” she confessed. It felt as intimate in the car as if they were alone in the house on a windswept, rainy winter night, alone with candles and low voices and the smell of something simmering on her stove.

Why hadn’t she seen they’d been lovers for years? “We lived together,” she said. “The only thing missing was the sex. That’s what Dharma meant when she pointed out you never moved out.”

“Don’t I know it,” he said ruefully. “Thank the penis genie you had a faulty zipper that night.”

“The penis genie? You are so making that up.” She grinned, even as he teased her with long smooth strokes of his callused fingers, lighting her up so that if her aura were visible, she’d see hot rainbow colour emanating from her body.

“Hey, if Santa Claus can get play, why not the penis genie? I would have given him gifts if I’d known he’d bring you around.” He loomed over her, watching her face as avidly as if she were a gripping movie. “That’s it, darlin’, moan for me. You like my fingers inside you, almost as much as you like my cock.”

“I loved that first time.” She had to tell him. “I got knotted up in the forbidden, in thinking I shouldn’t be that happy, but it was perfect. I needed it.”

“You did go off like a rocket.” He sounded smug and she knew she’d given him something back for the hurt she’d made between them.

“I wasn’t the only…ah…one.” She closed her eyes, wanting to savour her rise to climax. Each touch was a push up the ladder. She could smell herself, damp and earthy, heard the succulent sounds of his fingers inside her.

“Jesus, you get so wet for me, so fast. How could you think I could stay away from you?”

She looked at him, aware of her skirt around her waist, of her body open and pink and gleaming like an oyster. He undid the knot at her shoulder and her dress fell, baring her breasts for him.

“You look like a goddess in this dress, but now you’re a woman, my woman,” Luke breathed. “I’m gonna make you sing for me.”

He reached into the glove compartment of the expensive car and pulled out a little black bag. Sian bit her lip, wishing he’d put his hands back on her. Her eyes widened when she saw the oblong black wand in his hand—a tiny, sleek vibrator.

“I want you to take note that this is as far from Hello Kitty! as you can possibly get,” he said as he switched it on.

A toy in the car. She’d never thought he’d use a toy here of all places.

He caressed her with it, running it over her slick, open folds and Sian cried out, digging her nails into his thigh.

“Oh, kitty likes that.”

“Stop.” How could he make her laugh even when he was killing her? That was her Luke.

“Open wider, baby,” he urged her.

She shuffled forward, one leg high against the car seat as she let herself fall back. She caught a look at her reflection in the mirror, utterly wanton, a woman she wouldn’t even have recognised before Luke had first touched her.

He slid the vibrator into her body, making her jerk as intense sensation filled her. She moaned, arching like a cat to take more, beyond caring now how she looked.

He played with her, merciless, thrusting the device in and out, circling the top of her sex. She heard the scratch of her nails against the leather, raw, wanting cries burning out of her throat.

“Beg me. Beg me to come, Sian,” Luke whispered, his voice as dark and seductive as a sorcerer’s.

“Luke, please.” If it would give her relief, she’d do anything. She braced her legs and moved up and down on the toy, taking her pleasure.

He watched her and she knew he got off on watching her body undulate, the sweat between her breasts, the heavy fall of her hair, her lips parting to take one of his fingers and suck on it as he plunged the vibrator inside her.

She bit down on his finger, screaming her release, her body tightening around a metal toy.

She collapsed, panting hard, her body trembling aftershocks.

She held Luke’s heavy eyes, her gaze running down his body to the thick bulge at his crotch. As she stared, he undid his leather belt and unzipped his pants, shoving them down and mounting her.

The idea of pedestrians walking right by where they were mating heated her.

“Soft and wet and spent,” Luke said as he lifted her on him, using her body for his own pleasure now.

She was sensitive, stuffed full of him. She put her hands on his straining shoulders to steady herself.

He kissed her, open, carnal, taking her as much with his mouth as with his cock. “I want you to want me,” he growled. “I want you to know it’s me, always.”

“How could I not know?” she gave a choked laugh. “It’s not like I’ve ever—”

“I know.” Satisfaction burned in his eyes. “Just me.”

She had never come so quickly, one climax on top of another. Wet and spent, he’d said, but the character of the experience changed—long, drawn-out contractions. She felt as if she’d died and then lived again. Spent, she lay against Luke, feeling his seed warm inside her.

If they had a child, it would be the most natural thing. That big, expensive house wouldn’t be so full of the past, full of her broken heart and Luke’s loneliness.

He rearranged her clothing, gave her a handkerchief and then they were sitting in the car, driving as sedately as if they hadn’t just had explosive and messy sex.

“I want to take you somewhere.”

For some reason, her heart started to drum again. His voice was too casual.

“Where?”

He looked at her and his face was tight.

“We got through two obstacles tonight. Taz’s trap and our neighbour,” she reminded him.

“You don’t really know me.” His face was shadowed as bars of light on the freeway moved through the windshield, throwing his profile into relief. “Not really.”

“Luke.” She did, she did know him. But then she remembered how she’d rejected him, how she’d called it wrong. He was still hurting…because she alone was allowed to be close to him, was his family.

Her throat burned with the need to try to make it up to him, but they drove in silence, Sian forcing herself not to ask him where they were going.

The houses grew closer together. They passed strip malls with stores that were out of business, with the sharp teeth of broken windows. Broken asphalt and crowded apartment buildings.

He grimaced when he parked the car next to cracked sidewalk. “I shouldn’t have brought the damn fancy car. Fred will kill me if anything happens to it. Hang on.” He got out and walked straight into an alley. When he returned his cuffs were rolled to his elbows and he looked rumpled and dangerous.

Sian got out of the car, raising her brows.

“I asked Creed to watch the car. This is his turf,” Luke said.

Sian glimpsed a tall thin man with a tattoo snaking up his neck and onto his right cheekbone. Fierce hazel eyes burned hers. “He’s…” She shivered.

“Yeah,” Luke said. “But he owes me a favour.”

Luke put his arm around her. In her dress, still flushed from their encounter, she felt vulnerable and very female.

Luke stayed close to her, his clothing brushing hers as he led her into the closest apartment building, through a door overlapped with multiple graffiti.

“Grand Central Station for art-teists,” Luke said.

The foyer smelt of piss, with carpet the consistency of fur balls. The walls were the same yellowish as the single hanging bulb.

She could hear shouts, sobs and singing, smelt spicy tacos and sour garbage.

“This is where my Mom and I lived, until I came to live with you,” Luke said.

She nodded. “I figured. But if I’m supposed to push you away from me because of your humble beginnings—”

Luke hesitated on the stairs and then reached out and covered a hand print on the wall. It looked like something one of the graffiti artists had done until Sian understood it had been made with dried blood.

Her throat closed. She looked at Luke.

“My blood. Mine,” he said. “One of Mom’s boyfriends spilled some.”

Sian covered Luke’s hand with her own.

“I hope you punched the bastard out,” she said.

Luke gave her a shy look. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

He took her hand and they returned to the car, Luke holding the door for her and treating her with the courtesy he’d always shown her, as if he’d grown up a gentleman. But hadn’t he? At root, a gentleman protected people he cared about.

This time they drove towards the home they shared and Sian let her head fall against the cushion.

“I have this fantasy,” Luke said.

“Ummm?”

“I take you to this private club Taz introduced me to a while back.” Luke glanced at her, his gaze moving over her kiss-swollen lips to the tangle of her hair, loosed from the neat arrangement, wild from his hands. “When we enter, you take off your clothing.”

She tensed a little at the idea, even though a tingle shot through her pussy, still swollen from sex.

He gave one of his careful smiles. “I know you aren’t ready for that kind of scene now.”

“Especially if Taz would be there.”

He caught the subtext. His face hardened. “I’ll never share you with him or any man. But I don’t say if we ever go to that place he wouldn’t see you.”

See her without her clothes, he meant, as Luke’s submissive lover.

“You’re right, I’d have to be ready for something like that.”

He reached out casually and cupped a hand over her damp pussy, squeezing gently. She inhaled sharply and automatically separated her legs so he had access.

“You’re closer than you think to your submission.”

“Yes.” No point in denying it. “What do you envision happening at this club?”

Luke’s eyes were hot as he looked at her, taking in her excitement. “When you were naked, wearing nothing but some peridot drops from your nipple clamps, I’d lead you into a room with a spanking bench.”

He flicked up the dress and began to caress her throbbing body. She moaned, pushing into his tormenting fingers.

“I’d cuff you to the bench and then I’d sit down in a leather armchair. You’d be slick and nervous, your beautiful body fully exposed to anyone who entered the room.”

And he was evil because the thought stimulated her as much as his fingers playing with her.

“There’s a house slave there, a pretty woman. I’d have her paddle your ass and then she’d kneel under you and lick your pussy while I watched.”

Sian sucked in her breath. God! She’d never pictured something like that. “I’m not into women,” she said.

“You’d discover that a warm mouth on your cunt would make you hot regardless of it being a woman.” His voice hardened. “I won’t let another man touch what’s mine. They can watch—oh, that turns you on, doesn’t it, kitty?”

After feeling so uncertain with men, so unattractive, with him she knew she’d never feel that way, with Luke she’d be safe and wanted…and beautiful.

“Lift those knees,” he ordered, reaching into the glove compartment for the vibrator. He switched it on and drove it ruthlessly into her. She shifted her legs open even wider, kept on the edge.

“If you come, I’ll spank you,” Luke said. “And not in my bed this time. I’ll take you to the club and put you over my knee and do it in front of an appreciative audience.”

The thought of that both scared her and aroused her, so her legs trembled as the excess energy in her body overcame her. She was on the verge and he was her delicious master, forcing her to hold back until he gave the word or touch of approval.

He drove at a deliberately sedate pace, glancing at her from time to time, taking in how desperate she was, how beyond caring about how wanton she must appear.

When they finally arrived at the house he undid both their safety belts and then came around and lifted her from the car, placing her on the engine hood, the toy still inside her, whirring busily.

“Come.” He tapped her bare ass.

“Yes!” She clenched around the vibrator, warm contractions working through her deliciously.

After, she lay gasping against the sleek car. Luke pulled out the vibrator slowly, teasing her with it again so she clenched, moaning in the aftershocks of pleasure.

He unzipped himself and pushed inside, fucking her at a leisurely pace, plastering her body against the hood, wrapping his fist in her hair possessively. The slow drag and slide of his penis worked on her again, so she was hot and wanting, tightening around him with every stroke.

“What do you say?” he asked.

“Thank you…” she managed in a drowsy voice, focused on her neediness. “Thank you for letting me come.”

“Good girl.”

How could she ever deny herself this pleasure, this man who mastered her in a way she’d never imagined she’d ever crave?

“I’m…” His voice broke. “I’m going to ask you to marry me. Uh, in a certain, special, as-yet forbidden location.”

“What?”

But he just went on, not explaining himself. “I’m going to give you a little time to think about it, but I’m going to be family with you.”

He filled her and she rode the scalding wash of another climax, given to her by him, his body, his control.

Chapter Thirteen

“The big ‘M’,” Dharma said, taking a gulp of her coconut latte as if it were whisky. “Luke pushed for that? Wow.”

“Not all men are commitment shy,” Sian said.

“Apparently.”

“So what did you tell him?”

“I, uh, didn’t speak for a long time. Not in coherent sentences.”

Dharma’s lips curved. “Uh-huh.”

Sian was impressed with how much meaning her best friend could load into one facial expression.

“All right, let’s regroup.”

“I’m not sure I can do that. I think I may be past the point of no return,” Sian said. “Maybe it was the moment I saw him trying to play a piano when we were both still kids.”

Dharma’s eyes misted for a moment, but then snapped back like a rubber band a second later. She was a romantic, but not a push-over romantic. “You’ve dealt with being his cougar.”

Sian tugged her hair. The word…embarrassed her. “Please.”

“Sorry, still a tender spot.”

“Yep.” She decided that this conversation needed two things—chocolate and caffeine, so she grabbed an espresso brownie, cut it in half and shared it.

“And wow,” Dharma said around her bite of brownie, “you even faced down that dragon of a neighbour. I bet she’s spread it all over your posh neighbourhood, how you and cute boy are brother and sister, living in sin.”

“Except we aren’t,” Sian snapped. “We are not related. We can have a relationship.”

Dharma smirked again and Sian knew she’d needled her to make a point.

“Yeah, okay. I guess I got over that too,” Sian said.

“It wasn’t nice of Taz to throw in the woman from the threesome.” Dharma’s eyes narrowed and Sian figured the big fireman would get his head handed to him the next time he dared enter Coffee Dreams.

“Luke proposed one of his own.”

“What?” Now she’d managed to surprise her friend.

“Um, not like the ones he did before we hooked up. This was with another woman and it didn’t sound like she and I got real involved. Also, to clarify, he doesn’t touch her.”

“Mmmm.”

“You’ve done it with another woman,” Sian said.

“Yep. It can be nice.”

Sian sighed. “How is it I’m older than both you and Luke and I haven’t a tenth your experience?”

“That’s not the issue. What are you going to tell him about the marriage deal?”

“We didn’t get to talk about it. We didn’t spend the night together.”

“He’s holding out for marriage?”

“Apparently.” It was crazy, but when he’d closed his door gently and left her alone in the hallway after their date, she’d felt utterly lost. But marriage…yeesh!

“He’s pushing, I grant you,” Dharma said. “But look at it from his perspective. He loves you, he’s always loved you. You’ve lived together for years. You even told me if you had a kid you’d both welcome that. To all intents and purposes you two are living together so marriage isn’t a big step and…”

“What?”

“I’m thinking of marriage vows, about you ‘taking this man’. He probably needs that after being stuck in the role of your little kid brother all these years.”

Need. But Luke seemed so tough, so remote as he said goodnight. Didn’t he know all he had to do was tell her he hurt?

“I need a moment,” she said.

Dharma squeezed her shoulder before heading out to the store front, leaving Sian alone. “Sure.”

Sian sat at her desk, sipping her first coffee of the day—coffee roasted from beans she chose from fair-trade farmers, coffee she brewed and sold in what had always been her dream. She had always been so introverted that she knew without Luke pushing her, she wouldn’t have had the guts to go for this place, aptly named Coffee Dreams.

But she’d been there for him. When kids drank too much and ploughed themselves into a freeway wall and he and the men of Station 57 peeled fragile bodies out of a trashed car, she stayed up late with Luke, making her chilli for him to take in the next day.

Family. They were family, but Luke needed it spelled out in neon. He needed even the most nosy and interfering of their neighbours to know they were together.

Something shattered out front, yanking Sian from her thoughts.

“Dharma?”

For some reason her heart was pounding as she shoved open the swinging door.

Dharma was on the hardwood floor, on hands and knees, her head hanging.

“Oh, God.” She grabbed her phone off the counter when Taz walked in. “Help!”

Taz knelt, putting a hand against Dharma’s pulse point. “Erratic,” he muttered. “Luke’s riding with me today in the paramedic truck. Get him in here and call nine-one-one.”

Sian burst through the door of Coffee Dreams, spotted Luke. He straightened as soon as they made eye contact. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Sian!”

“Dharma. I think it’s her heart.” Sian dialled as Luke grabbed equipment and ran into the coffee shop.

As Sian watched, Luke and Taz worked over Dharma, Luke supporting her while Taz examined her. Dharma’s breath whistled in and out like a desperate tea kettle. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Taz said, “You’re going to be okay. Look at me. I don’t bullshit.”

Dharma stared into Taz’s eyes. “No,” she managed. “You don’t do that.”

“Any caffeine today?” Luke asked. “Any foods your doctor doesn’t want you eating?”

“I…no. I never—” Dharma began.

“Oh God, the bit of brownie you had. It was made with espresso,” Sian said.

“Too fast!” Dharma gripped Luke’s hand. “My heart—”

The door crashed open as two ambulance workers arrived with a gurney. They exchanged terse medi-speak with Taz and Luke.

“We’re going to get you to Mercy Hospital,” Luke told Dharma, before they shifted her to the cart.

“I’m closing up. I’ll be right behind you,” Sian said.

“Are you all right to drive?” Luke demanded.

Sian swallowed. “Yes.”

In the ER waiting room, Sian looked up when Luke sat down beside her.

“Do you know anything?” she asked.

“The doc’s with her now. They’re slowing down her heart with a drip. She’ll be here a while,” Luke said.

“But she’s going to be all right?”

Luke nodded. “I think so.”

Sian slumped. “She was fine. She was absolutely fine and then…”

“Yeah. It happens that way sometimes.”

“Her medical condition?”

“Life.”

“I guess you see a lot of that.”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Instead, he looked at her. “I have to get back to work.”

She nodded. “I’m going to stay here. See if Dharma could use a ride home if…if it’s all right for her to go home. Luke, she’s my best friend and she nearly died. If you and Taz hadn’t been there…”

Luke squeezed her hand. “We were.”

She watched him stride away, looking comfortable in the hospital environment in his uniform.

“Luke already left?” Taz asked.

“Yes.”

“You look like you could use some of that coffee you dole out.”

“I’m okay. You on the other hand look like you went one round too many.” She cocked an eyebrow at his swollen eye.

“Luke.” Taz’s eyes flashed a look that was oddly pride. “He has a helluva right cross.”

“You knew he’d do that. After what you did, setting us up.”

“If you weren’t going to stick, better he knew.”

“Looking out for him.”

Taz shrugged. “You do it for your friend Dharma. I heard you’re picking up her medical expenses.” His green eyes moved over her face with a moody light. “Are you going to break his heart?”

“That’s the last thing I want.”

“Long as I knew him, Luke’s had you in the blood. He’s always felt less, like he had to grow up, grow tall, to be a man you’d want.”

* * * *

Luke found Sian sitting on her bed hours later. He’d swung by the coffee house to check on her earlier, but had found it darkened and closed up, so she hadn’t made it back.

“You saw Dharma home?” he asked, rubbing the tense muscles of his neck.

“Yes. Her mom’s come down to stay with her for a few days.”

Luke nodded. “She had a scare.”

“A brownie. She didn’t even eat that much of it.”

“It could have been triggered by anything, but caffeine, alcohol…things to watch.”

“Your captain also came by to see how she was,” Sian said, making haystacks of her bedspread. “He didn’t stay long.”

“Fred likes the way she makes him coffee. It hit you hard.”

“It scared me. I love her, she’s part of my life and…”

“She’s okay now.”

Since Luke only stood at the doorway to her bedroom, she got off the bed and went to him. He pulled her into his arms.

“Thank you for being who you are.” She pulled away. “I need a moment to do some things.”

He pulled back awkwardly, standing in the hallway, hating that he still stood out here, looking into her bedroom from the outside. It had been stupid to push her about marriage, he admitted to himself. God, he was tired. Maybe he should just let it go, go on living with her. “Sure.”

“Meet you in fifteen in the kitchen?”

“Okay then.”

Luke found some soup in the fridge and put it in the microwave. He cut some sourdough and shoved it in the toaster.

“You’re looking very handy,” Sian drawled.

“You’re still the queen of your domain, but you need to eat something.”

“You’re right, I haven’t eaten.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, and that’s when it hit him.

She was wearing that black deal, the dress she’d been wearing the night his control had broken. Sweat broke out on his hairline as he took her in, brown hair up, long, fragile bird bones, delicate neck, anxious eyes.

Those eyes were smudged with something that made them look sad and mysterious. Her lips were glossy and reddened, as if from hard kisses.

She smelt spicy, as good as one of her pastries.

She was everything he’d ever wanted and everything he was sure he could never have.

Except she was smiling at him, reaching out and gripping his hand as he just stood there.

“Your hands are cold. Shit.” He frowned.

“Always taking care of me, Luke?” She tilted her head to look up at him and he was even more aware of her perfume, of the way she’d dressed up for him on an ordinary night, a week night. She looked…

His hands slid down silky material and cupped her ass, groaning as her flexible, long body caressed him where he tented his jeans.

“Make love to me.”

She’d never initiated it before between them. Never. He’d given up hoping she would.

He lifted her onto the island that had seen previous action, reached under her skirt and found…hot, wet flesh.

She wasn’t wearing panties.

She laughed. “You look surprised.”

“You came out here to seduce me?”

Now her heavy eyes held that sadness again. She cupped his cheek. “Luke, I’ve let my fears rule me.”

“Life’s too short,” he croaked. He shoved up the dress, exposing her pink depths. He put his mouth on her and she groaned, long legs locked around him. His cock ached to shove inside her.

She was luscious under his tongue, her body rising up for each lick, vibrating like wire.

“Luke!”

He opened her, peeling back all the protective layers until her sex was under his mouth, vulnerable. He took her, wanting her taste inside him.

Sian was letting him do her. She was his now, even if she still clung to the safe life they’d lived for so many years. It would have to be enough.

He fell into familiar fantasy, picturing them living in another time and place where she was his captive, where she was his, utterly his and every time he wanted her she was brought to him.

She’d wear this dress, and her hair would be down and messy…

He reached up and ruffled it, and the long silk fell around them, making their secret world. Her hair, her scent, all around him.

“You’re mine,” he growled. “Whatever you call yourself, stepsister, friend… You’re my woman.”

“Yes, Luke!”

But he didn’t believe her. It hurt too much, facing more hesitation, more rejection. He took it out on her, laving her thoroughly so that her nails spiked into his arms and she sobbed every time he licked her folds.

He kept her like that, aching for her relief, twisting like restless fire under his touch. He let out the ruthless Dom, subduing her when she begged, imagining that his beautiful captive was fighting for freedom, but he showed her the woman who wanted to be his.

And then he opened his jeans and mounted her, took her with one thrust.

She screamed, legs hooking around his hips. He felt her contractions as she came, saw the dazed satisfaction in her eyes, the dreaminess.

He shattered it, taking her roughly, making her desperate again so her nails scored his ass as she sat up and he fucked her face-to-face. He was naked this way, looking into her eyes. He knew she had to see how much the boy had wanted her, the man wanted her now.

“I love you,” he said, not able to hold back. “But if this is it, let’s go out like a comet.”

They worked together so sweat dampened his hair and rolled down his face, so her dinner went cold and the air warmed with the scent of his straining body, with her receiving him.

He roared as he flooded into her and he hoped he’d made her pregnant. If that’s what it took to make her marry him, well, he just didn’t care right now.

She trembled in his arms—he felt too big, too low class. He cradled her, wishing he could be gentle and smooth, someone she’d take seriously.

“Luke…” She was on her feet. Still wobbly, so he braced her.

His face hardened. He could stick it out another night alone. “Go to your room, Sian,” he said, wanting it over. “Just go.”

“Okay.” But she took his hand, holding tightly.

He followed, frowning at her. “Wait. You didn’t eat. You should eat.”

“I have to show you something first.”

She walked into her bedroom. Turned and looked at him; pulled him after her when he didn’t enter on his own.

And he was there at last, her room. His heart thudded.

Sian went to her bedside table, opened it and pulled something out. When she flipped it on her bed, he saw it was the calendar. He saw himself, Mr February, in all his glory.

“The truth is… I bought it before Dharma ever hung it in Coffee Dreams. I kept it here, my secret. I looked at you every night I came home after one of my dates.” She sat on the bed, lifting her hand to him. “Marry me. Make love to me in my bed, make a baby with me. We were made for each other.”

He covered her on that bed and let her peel off his clothing and her own. Skin to skin, in her room, the way he’d always needed to be with her.

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His Landlady

Jan Irving

Excerpt

Chapter One

Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks within, awakens ~ Carl Jung

Diana Moore hesitated outside the kickboxing studio, her attention caught by a poster of the sleek body of a young male kickboxer, his leg straight up in a martial arts kick.

Although every muscle was warrior defined, it was the expression on his face that fixed her attention. He was gazing into the distance, a half smile touching his lips, a look of transcendent pleasure that didn’t make her think of the martial arts…

“Perv,” she muttered to herself. She had better things to do than stand here lusting over a beautiful man who was probably too airbrushed to be true. She adjusted her grip on her attaché case and almost walked into another young man, this one short and covered with black-and-red tattoos.

“You here for class?” he demanded. “Come back in an hour.” His street accent made the word ‘hour’ a match for ‘sour’.

Di gulped and stopped herself from taking a step back. The stranger had an aggressive energy that she could feel like a force field.

“No,” she said. “I’m strictly a yoga person.”

The man stared at her, unblinking, and Di felt as if she’d told a proud Doberman owner that she was the golden retriever type.

“We don’t do yoga here,” he said, crossing his arms.

“No, I know that…” She was flustered and it was stupid. But the studio so wasn’t her thing. “I’m the landlady of this strip mall. I’m here with some paperwork for the owner.”

“Huh.” He didn’t look impressed.

“Nath, behave!” a mellow voice interrupted.

There was a thread of laughter in it that stroked down Di’s spine.

“Hello, landlady. I’ve been waiting to meet you.”

A tanned hand was held out and when she automatically took it, callouses brushed her palm. The grip was strong, confident, and didn’t crush her fingers; this was a man with no need to prove anything.

“Uh…”

He was also the man from the poster. Except he was stripped down to black shorts and his dark hair was sweaty against his forehead. He regarded her with almond-shaped, amber-brown eyes, hinting at a slight Asian heritage while his unshaven jaw and shaggy brown hair were sexy mongrel.

“I’m Diana Moore,” she said.

“My landlady is a Roman goddess, Diana the Huntress,” he said.

Although those dark eyes didn’t move down to her full breasts, Diana felt as if they had. Her nipples peaked through her thin, blue silk tunic.

“Sloan Kent—owner and operator of Soul Kickin’.”

“Soul Kickin’,” she repeated, seeing with relief that the other man, Nath, had disappeared into the studio. He’d been a bit intense for her to handle before she’d had her morning espresso. “So you decided on a name.”

A smile tilted his perfect lips. If he’d caught her attention in two dimensions, it was nothing to the real man. The real young man, she reminded herself. He looked to be in his early twenties, and she definitely was not at thirty-five.

“Yeah, I know I kept you waiting. But waiting can be good.” He raised his brows as an expression that was part teasing and part earnest lit his eyes. “You gotta live in the present moment. Grab every second.”

“Ah…right.” Now she wasn’t imagining he was looking at her. She ducked her head, knowing with her curves she didn’t look as good as he did in shorts. More earth goddess than sports queen. “I brought the paperwork over.”

Sloan nodded. “Come on in,” he invited, opening the glass door of his studio for her.

She walked into what had previously been just bare brick walls, scarred from an incarnation as a sports retailer. The floors were halfway through a polish job, stripped down to sawdust and bleached maple so the scent of wood was strong and tangy.

“Nath has been doing the floors,” Sloan said, as if he’d noticed her interest.

“They were a mess,” she admitted.

In fact, she hadn’t been able to lease the space for months. She was glad she had finally managed it, despite her mild discomfort with the type of business that had taken the storefront.

When her father had given her the strip mall, she’d known he’d expected her to fail, but Diana had put a lot of extra time into it, determined to make it the basis for a stable income for herself and Jeff.

“Nath’s gone for lunch,” Sloan said, picking up a towel and wiping his face.

Diana studied the metal rails hanging across the ceiling and the heavy black bags suspended from them.

“I can’t imagine hitting something for fun,” she said.

“It’s liberating,” Sloan said. “It can give you confidence that spills into the rest of your life.”

She grazed a hand down one bag. “I’m not comfortable with aggression.”

Sloan’s expression was serene. He shrugged, and she got the feeling that while he didn’t agree with her, he was comfortable enough with himself that he didn’t need to argue about it.

His confidence was beginning to get to her. He was so young…he shouldn’t be so self-assured. She cleared her throat and opened her attaché case, sitting it on a bit of finished flooring since the room was bare of anything else.

Suddenly a pillow was thrust at her face and she froze before looking into intimidating dark eyes under straight, heavy brows. She took the lotus-shaped pillow, familiar to her from her yoga practice.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’ll need help sitting down in those sky-scraper shoes,” Sloan said, cocking his head as his gaze ran down Diana’s long legs.

He shocked her by kneeling at her feet and placing one warm, calloused hand around her left ankle, running a finger under the rim of her ankle bracelet.

His touch bypassed politeness and zapped straight to her sex, making Diana gasp.

“Hey, I just want to take your shoes off,” Sloan said, stroking the slope of her foot.

“Oh, yeah, but I can—”

“Allow me.”

Flustered, Diana watched Sloan as he slowly unbuckled each of the three black straps on her sandal. When he gently pulled her foot free, he massaged the sole, and Diana gave a heartfelt groan, but damn, that felt good.

“Probably these shoes aren’t the best thing for your feet but they look very hot on you,” Sloan said.

He put down the liberated foot and reached for the other and, dazed, Diana allowed it, her hands on his bare shoulders for balance now, making direct contact with hot, sweaty skin.

Sloan took his time with the second sandal, caressing the underside of her foot and eliciting another moan. Her feet seemed to be directly wired into her pussy, so he might as well have been touching her intimately.

When he looked up at her, she realised he knew exactly what he was doing, the effect it was having on her.

“Sit down, Diana,” he ordered gruffly.

Bemused, Diana sat down, smoothing her short blue skirt so she didn’t flash him.

Sloan was within kissing distance as she passed him the paperwork she’d brought over. She scolded herself for noticing, but her feet—and other parts—were still tingling from the unexpected foot massage.

He reached into a pocket in his shorts and pulled out a pair of glasses, slipping them on. They were a dramatic contrast to his tangled hair and hard, glistening body. He looked up through the lenses, his eyes sober now, back to business.

“I want to put the lobby there, by the door, along with a console for handling payments from clients,” he said, gesturing towards the front of the empty studio.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Diana said. “You’ve done a lot of amazing renovations already.”

“Motivation is not a problem for me when I see what I want.” He looked up at Diana. “Are you the same, Diana?”

She’d been chewing on her pen, something she’d broken the habit of doing as a college student. “I am definitely motivated to see this strip mall do the best it can,” she said.

“I think everything here is in order, but I’ll want some time to look it over before I send it back to you.” Sloan put the paperwork aside and removed his glasses.

“Of course,” Diana agreed. She looked at her bare feet and her shoes, feeling awkward. The charged interlude was over and she had to put her shoes back on and retreat.

“Now that that’s done with…” Sloan’s voice was gravely. “You liked it when I touched you.”

Shocked again by Sloan’s confidence, Diana could only stare at him.

“It wasn’t an accident, where I touched you,” Sloan went on. “I used to give reflexology massage. I knew how to arouse you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do. Take a moment, just breathe…”

Now he reached out and stroked her arm as if he felt the sudden spike of her anxiety. But this couldn’t be happening. She’d seen him, she’d wanted him, but he was a fantasy. This couldn’t be happening…

“Breathe…”

He was closer, sharing her breath. She couldn’t stop studying his face, those slightly exotic, earnest eyes, holding her captive.

He cupped her cheek. “You made quite an impression on me.”

She laughed when she remembered seeing his poster and the look of bliss on his face—she’d pictured him making love. Oh, yeah, he’d also made an impression on her.

“I should go.”

“Don’t.”

“This isn’t me.”

“I think it’s very much you. Ground zero.”

He lifted her onto his lap, both her legs on either side of him, her body flush against his so she could feel the blunt shape of his erection through his tissue-thin shorts. Panting, she began to tremble. His hand felt hot on the silk of her skirt as he placed it on her ass.

“Easy,” he said, still with that assured manner. This was crazy. Why was she allowing him to do these things? She was always so guarded with men, peeking at them from behind her walls. “I can get you off, get you off like you’ve never had it before.”

“Uh.”

He moved his hands from her ass and up to her breasts. When he cupped her, her eyes fell closed and she sagged against him. She could count her heartbeat in the lips of her sex.

“But you have to do something first, Diana,” Sloan went on in that same hoarse, silky voice.

She blinked and then frowned. “What?”

“Ask me to please you,” he said.

“I…”

How could she? She’d just met the man. Now she was sitting on him and he was touching her.

He moved one hand down her body and under her skirt, lifting it as he held her gaze. He brushed his fingers against her underwear, found her damp, hot for him, a stranger.

“Sloan, I never do this—”

She caught his wrist, though the feel of that broad palm cupping her had her on edge.

“I know,” he said. “You mentioned you aren’t into aggression.” He cocked a brow. “Are you going to let me touch you?”

She swallowed, beyond saying yes. Giving him verbal permission would make this all too real, but when he began to drag his hand away from her, she caught it again, held it to her.

She licked her lips, wishing, and a second later she got her wish.

He kissed her, his lips covering hers, male, strong, taking deeply, so she moaned as he stroked her tongue delicately. He was so very controlled, like no one she’d ever met before, completely commanding her. When he squeezed her sex gently, she gasped again, shaking in his arms.

“You need to come, don’t you?” he asked in a mild tone.

Diana’s fingernails dug into Sloan’s arms and he laughed, pulling away to stare into her eyes. “I told you I can get you off, beautiful Diana, but only on my terms.”

“You’re too young for me. This isn’t real.”

“Isn’t it?” His hair fell over one brow as he leaned close, nuzzling her.

She shivered hotly. Her body ground on his teasing hand.

“What…what are your terms?” Diana asked.

“Good girl,” he praised her. “I’m going to give you what you need. You’ll scream when you come for me.”

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About the Author

Jan Irving has worked in all kinds of creative fields, from painting silk to making porcelain ceramics, to interior design, but writing was always her passion.

She feels you can’t fully understand characters until you follow their journey through a story world. Many kinds of worlds interest her, fantasy, historical, science fiction and suspense—but all have one thing in common, people finding a way to live together—in the most emotional and erotic fashion possible, of course!)

Email: mailto:janmairving@gmail.com

Jan loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Jan Irving:

Uncommon Cowboys: Straight Cowboy

Uncommon Cowboys: Shifter Cowboy

Uncommon Cowboys: Shy Cowboy

Uncommon Cowboys: Wounded Cowboy

Uncommon Cowboys: A Plain, Ordinary Cowboy

Uncommon Cowboys: A Cowboy in Ravenna

Power Games: The Wizard’s Boy

Saddle Up ‘N’ Ride: Straight Cowboy

Subspace: His Landlady

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