Out of the Dark Read online

  “I should’ve called first. I’m sorry.”

  “No. It’s okay.” Celia looked at her flannel jammies, thinking that if he had called, she might’ve put on something a little more substantial. Or at least sexier. “Come on in.”

  She took him straight to the kitchen, not through the living room and definitely not through the dining room. There she waved a hand at the table and watched him take a seat while he still avoided her eyes. Without asking, she put a beer and a plateful of cheese and crackers in front of him. He opened the beer and took a long drink, but didn’t touch the food. When she sat in the chair next to his and took his hand, she felt the twitch and flex of his fingers, but he didn’t pull away.

  “I was hoping I’d see you again.” She’d meant to sound playful and sexy. Light. She missed the mark by quite a bit, sounding sad instead, yet somehow unembarrassed that he might think she was the sort of desperate woman who clung to a one-nighter like it meant something more. Celia passed her fingertip lightly over Luke’s knuckles. They were rough and bruised, and she kept the touch gentle. She looked at his face and waited until he met her eyes before speaking again.

  She had to wait for what felt like a long time.

  “I’m glad,” she said quietly, “you came to see me.”

  Then she was on his lap, straddling him, his face cradled in her palms as his mouth opened beneath hers with a desperation that might’ve been scary if it hadn’t been so fucking sexy. Luke broke the kiss with a small moan, but Celia didn’t let him turn his head. She put her forehead to his, her hands holding his jaw as she used one thumb to caress his bottom lip. He closed his eyes, but that was okay. His cock pressed her through his jeans, she could feel that just fine, so whatever was stopping him had nothing to do with a lack of desire.

  She rocked a little, pushing herself against the bulge in his jeans. The chair creaked as Luke gripped it on both sides. He hissed out a breath and moved to kiss her again, but Celia held his face tight in her hands and kept his mouth from hers. By the barest centimeter, sure, but still. She held him still until he opened his eyes and looked into hers. Celia brushed her lips on his, and when he again tried to kiss her hard, she pulled away just enough so that he could feel her breath on him, but not her touch.

  Luke drew in a slow, shuddering breath. He let go of the chair and put his hands on the small of her back, pressing just barely as she rocked once more against him. When she added a small grind of her hips, he let out another tortured breath and swallowed hard. He pressed his face to the tops of her breasts, the skin bared by the opened buttons of her top. Heat pressed her, then moisture when he kissed her there. It was her turn to moan at the touch of his tongue along her collarbone, then the wet, firm pressure of his lips tugging at her tight nipples through the thin flannel.

  She found the back of his neck, his skull, her fingers sliding through his short dark hair until she gripped, tight enough to make him mutter. She tipped his head back to look into his eyes. Luke’s mouth was wet, his dark eyes fathomless and creased in the corners with more feathery lines than she remembered. The hair at his temples had gone silver. He’d aged in six months, from some sort of pain, that was clear enough, but it sat well upon his face.

  “I’m glad,” Celia repeated slowly, voice low and steady, her gaze never shifting from his, “you came to see me.”

  Luke shuddered, his every muscle going tight and then loose against her. He was bigger, could so easily have pushed her off him, could have lifted her the way he’d done that first night. But he didn’t. His eyes closed briefly but opened when she tugged his hair again, though they went half-lidded when Celia pushed up on her toes to rub herself along his bulging cock.

  She reached between them to work the buckle of his belt. The button, the zipper. His cock was in her hand a minute after that. With her other she pulled up his shirt to expose his belly. Then her shirt to do the same. She pressed her body to his, his erection caught between them. Her clit pressed the heel of her hand, a surprising delight she took full advantage of as she moved against him.

  This time, she let him kiss her.

  Open mouths, tongues dancing, the brief clash of teeth. He pushed his hips upward, his cock sliding through the tunnel of her fingers and against her belly. The motion rocked her forward and back and the pressure built on her clit, just right. Celia cupped the back of Luke’s head as his kiss skidded from her lips. Cheek to cheek, she nuzzled his ear and heard the harsh rasp of his breath as they moved together.

  No doubt, she wanted him inside her, so deep it might even hurt a little bit, but that would mean letting go, getting off his lap, taking him upstairs. There wasn’t time for that, and Celia didn’t know why, just that with every rocking thrust, every biting kiss, her body was inching closer and closer to coming and there was no way she was going to stop until she was done.

  Luke shuddered again when she twisted her hand around the head of his prick. His lips and teeth found the sweet spot just above her collarbone as his hands dug into her hips. He moved one hand between them, his thumb replacing her own hand, and that was even better, more precise. He drew in a sharp breath as she stroked him up, then down, and it guttered into a groan that turned her on even more.

  The chair shifted, rocking onto its back legs for a second while Luke pushed himself into her hand. When it came back down, just that extra bit of movement was enough to push her over. Orgasm tingled, then rippled through her. Celia was looking into Luke’s eyes when the first burst of ecstasy hit her. She cried out in a low, hoarse voice. His name.

  Luke buried his face against her neck, and again she felt the press of his teeth, the small sting of a nip. His cock throbbed in her fist. Wet heat covered her fingers, and the smell of him, so raw and intimate, eased another ripple of orgasm out of her. He gasped against her skin and held her so close she could no longer move but stayed still with the back of her hand pressed to his belly and her fingers curled around his cock.

  Half a minute passed before they both relaxed and Celia sat back. Luke’s shirt had fallen down over his wet belly and her hand, too, and she twisted around for a handful of napkins from the small basket in the middle of the table. She cleaned her hand quickly without making a big deal out of it and settled back onto his lap with her hands linked behind his neck before he could move.

  She put her forehead to his for a second, then kissed his mouth softly. Luke returned the kiss, but when it broke he put his face again to the hollow of her throat with a sigh so deep it lifted his shoulders. In the silence that felt as though it should be filled with words, Celia stroked his hair, her cheek on top of his head. She listened to the sound of his breathing slow and soft. She felt his muscles tense, then loosen as the minutes ticked past.

  “Come to bed,” she said finally, when her butt had started to go numb.

  She thought for sure he’d refuse her that. His eyes said as much when he pulled away to look at her. But after a second, he nodded and helped her off his lap. He stood, and if he was self-conscious about tucking himself back into his jeans or the stain on his shirt, Celia gave him the courtesy of busying herself with putting away the food before taking his hand to lead him upstairs.

  In the kitchen doorway, Luke hesitated. “I should shower. I probably stink.”

  He’d smelled of the faintest whiff of gasoline, the wind, leather, a hint of sweat. The combination had been far from a stink, but she nodded anyway. “Sure. Of course. You can use my shower.”

  “I have…clothes,” he said. “In my bag. On the bike.”

  She understood, then. It was an easy way for him to escape. She nodded again and stepped back. Let go of his hand. “Okay. I’ll just finish cleaning up the kitchen.”

  There was nothing else to do but empty his hardly drunk beer, but she moved to the sink to do that and give him the chance to leave her. She listened to the thud of his boots on the floor, the creak of the front door opening and closing. She gave him five minutes before she went down the hall to the door, i