The Men of Whiskey Creek: Dillon
Serenity King
www.beautifultroublepublishing.com
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The Men of Whiskey Creek: Dillon
Serenity King
www.beautifultroublepublishing.com
The Men of Whiskey Creek: Dillon Serenity King Copyright © 2011 by Serenity King All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright. This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. Published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC PO Box 61 Colfax, NC 27235 www.beautifultroublepublishing.com Cover Art: Les Byerley http://www.les3photo8.com/ Editor: Stephanie Parent Proofreader: Lisa English http://lisalynneproofer.blogspot.com/ Formatter: Savannah J. Frierson, http://sjfbooks.com/editing/ E-book Conversion: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/
ISBN: (e-book) 978-1-61788-119-0; (print) 978-1-61788-120-6
To my fans. Thank you for your love and support of my work. I hope you enjoy Dillon and Lark's story as much as I loved writing it. Enjoy!
NOTE ABOUT EBOOKS eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author or Beautiful Trouble Publishing.
CAVEAT This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.
Chapter One Lark Singletary sat, nursing her third Absolut Sex at the dimly lit bar. She wanted to get good and drunk—no, she needed to get good and drunk. Maybe she’d even pick up a onenighter. Hell, she might as well. From now on, she was strictly fucking and leaving. Men did it all the time. Why couldn’t she? Picking up her glass, she took a healthy gulp of the liquid before placing it back on the bar. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Lark?” Dillon Anderson, the owner of the Whiskey Creek Bar asked. Normally he didn’t bartend, but the place was packed, and they were short one bartender according to Hank Whitney, Dillon’s good friend and bartender. Lark peered up at Dillon through partially closed eyelids. “Not nearly enough,” she said, with a slight slur to her voice. “As a matter of fact, I’ll have another one.”
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“Not before you dance some of that liquor off, Lark,” Dillon said firmly. “Better yet, you need some food in you.” “I don’t want to dance, and I don’t want food. I want to get drunk, find someone to fuck, and start all over again,” she shot back. Some of the men sitting around the bar shot her looks that
ranged
from
shocked
to
definitely
interested. She met their gazes defiantly. “He’s not worth it. Get over it and move on,” Dillon said callously. “I’m trying to move on, only you won’t let me,” she grumbled. “Give me another drink and leave me the hell alone, Dillon.” “No. It’s my bar, my rules. I say you either dance some of that liquor off or call for a ride to take you home. Your choice,” Dillon said, leaning over the bar and looking her directly in the eyes. She knew he was serious. Dillon rarely said anything he didn’t mean. Standing an inch or two over six feet tall, he was long, lean, and
The Men of Whiskey Creek: Dillon
13
built like a surfer. Except for the scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his ear, Dillon looked as though he belonged on the cover of a sports magazine rather than owning and operating a bar. He had the bad boy look down to a tee. His transparent blue-green eyes sucked you in. She’d often referred to them as fuck-me eyes, because every time she stared into them, she’d wanted to throw him down and have her way with him. As tipsy as she was, her thighs still clenched and her pussy creamed from the very thought of having him on top of her or underneath her all night long. Of course, doing a friend had never ever been a good idea in her book, and she wasn’t a cheater, so the fact that she was involved with someone was a barrier as well. No, she reminded herself, had been involved with someone. As of earlier this week, that small fact was not a problem. Yep, she’d left the dickhead at his apartment fucking like a
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rabid dog in heat a
week ago—hence her
retreat to the bar now. This had been the first chance she’d had to get nice and drunk someplace other than in her apartment by herself. She remembered hearing someone say, What better way to get over one man than to get under a new one? Considering she hadn’t had sex in over six months despite having had a boyfriend up until last week, those were definitely words to live by. “Lark…Lark, are you listening to me?” Dillon roared. “Wh—What?” she asked, puzzled. “Never mind,” he snapped. “Go have a seat in one of the booths. I’ll bring you a plate of wings. At least you’ll have something in your stomach other than booze.” “No. I want my drink,” she said with a stubborn lift of her chin. “Hank, take over and have Stacy bring a plate of wings to booth three,” Dillon yelled to his friend and bartender as he grabbed a beer
The Men of Whiskey Creek: Dillon
15
and walked around the bar to face Lark. Once in front of her, he took her hand and helped her with surprising gentleness from the barstool. “Let’s go.” Lark snatched her hand away from him. “I told you, I am not going home.” She hiccupped and then staggered forward; she would have fallen had Dillon not grabbed her arm to steady her. That time, he was not quite as gentle. “Whoa, there,” he said. “I don’t want any falls in my bar. Let’s grab a seat. I’ll take you home when I‘m finished for the night, since you won’t call anyone to come and get you.” “I know how to get home, thank you very much,” Lark snarled. “Sure you do. Let’s go,” he snickered, taking her by the hand and leading her to a booth toward the back of the bar. She had to admit it was a good thing he had hold of her hand, because she stumbled all the way to the booth. He held her tighter to keep her from
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falling, but refused to slow down as he navigated his way through the crowd. “Sit,” he said when they reached the booth. He pushed her down on the seat and scooted in next to her. Lark’s breath caught in her chest at the feel of his jean-clad thigh pressed against her bare leg. The dress she wore only reached to mid-thigh, revealing a very healthy amount of leg. His touch was wreaking havoc with her senses. Maybe it was all the booze she’d inhaled earlier, or maybe she just missed having a man, but for some reason she was very much aware of him tonight. “So, you want to tell me why you decided to come to my bar to get wasted and pick up a stranger?” he asked. A soft gasp left her lips. Leave it to Dillon to be blunt. “Don’t deny it all of a sudden. Even if you weren’t wearing that fuck-me dress, you told me and everyone else at the bar that you came
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17
in to get a man. And don’t think there weren’t some guys around who wouldn’t have taken you up on it. The only reason no one bothered you was because of me.” Dillon took a swig of his beer and placed the bottle on the table. “I don’t have on a ‘fuck-me’ dress, as you call it. It’s just a dress that I chose to wear out tonight,” she lied. He was dead on. She’d worn the dress for the effect. Dillon chuckled. “Of course you do, sweetheart. You know it, and I know it. So tell me why you’re acting so ape-shit over that asshole Brian? You can’t tell me you loved him, because we both know you’d be lying. What’s the deal?” “Nothing,” she murmured. “Bullshit. What gives, Lark?” he barked. Lark
sighed
heavily.
She
knew
he
wouldn’t let her rest until she came clean. “I caught Brian,” she admitted, and then stopped and cleared her throat. “Rutting like a fucking bull in our bed,” she rushed on.
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“He’s an asshole. And…?” he said, sounding bored, and making a come-on-getwith-it gesture with his hand. “And?” she cried, horrified. “Isn’t that enough?” “Yes, and…?” he said. “I’m surprised it lasted as long as it did.” “Why’s that?” “Hell, Lark, I think you purposely pick these losers,” he said. “Everyone including you knew that there wasn’t any passion in that relationship. You and I had more passion on the dance floor than you and Brian had as a couple.” “Brian’s not a loser. He’s a broker and has a very lucrative bank account. Thank you very much,” she snapped. Or rather, she tried to snap. It didn’t help that her drunken tongue stumbled over the word “lucrative.” Dillon laughed. “So, he was a rich loser. He finally came out of the closet? You look like you haven’t had good sex in a while.”
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19
“It’s not funny,” she growled, kicking him under the table—which was awkward since they were sitting side by side. “Ouch, stop that,” he said, still laughing as he placed his hand on her thigh and rubbed it. “Come on, Lark, you know you have horrible taste in men.” Dillon was right. She did have horrible taste in men, though she wouldn’t acknowledge it to him—she couldn’t even if she wanted to. His hand on her leg was arousing her to no end. Damn. Yes, she wanted to get laid, but not by Dillon—then again, why not? He just might be the one-night stand she needed. “Why do you do this to yourself, Lark? You come from a perfectly good home. Loving parents and siblings, yet you always tend to gravitate toward the wrong men.” He spoke softly as he eyed her between half-closed eyelids.
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“I’m not one of your barroom patrons, Dillon. Stop trying to psychoanalyze me,” she snorted. “Of course you’re one of my patrons. Why else would you be here getting completely sauced? Oh yeah, you’re looking to get fucked as well,” he mocked. “Will you shut the hell up? You’re killing my buzz.” Lark neither confirmed nor denied Dillon’s question. Dillon guffawed. “God forbid.” Lark turned her head sideways to stare up at him. “Besides, you’re no better than I am with relationships—thus the reason you’ve never been in a serious relationship in all the time I’ve known you.” Dillon leaned toward her, placed his lips against hers, and whispered, “Maybe I haven’t found the right woman.” His hand traveled up her thigh, stopping between her legs to cup her sex. At the same time, his finger traced circles over her barely-covered clit.
The Men of Whiskey Creek: Dillon
Lark’s
breath
caught
as
21
sensations
traveled through her body. Her braless nipples strained against the tight bodice of her dress, and her pussy creamed from the heat of his hand against her. Throwing her head back, she groaned deep in her throat. He was playing with her. No way was he for real. For as long as she’d known him she’d only seen him with what she referred to as stick-women. She was no size zero—a healthy size eight was more like it—she had curves in all the right places and loved every last one of them. It occurred to her that she must still be buzzed. They were in a bar full of people, and yet here she was, not only letting Dillon have his way with her, but craving his touch. He was so close to her center that she wished he’d stop playing and do the damn deed. She moaned breathlessly. “You like that?” he whispered, teasing her clit through her underwear.
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“Hmm,”
she
groaned
in
response,
opening her legs wider, an invitation for him to go further. She was on fire and needed release in the worst way.
Chapter Two Dillon’s eyes went to the column of her throat. He trailed his finger down her throat to trace a line along the pulsating vein that throbbed against his finger. He hadn’t had anyone in a long time. She was aroused and so was he. Her head rolled back to lie against the headrest of the booth, which allowed him full access to her vulnerable throat and protruding breast. Breathing heavily, she made little mewling sounds in the back of her throat as he added pressure to her clit with his hand. Damn, she was responsive. And hot. The little material that acted as underwear was sopping wet with her juices. Using his finger to move the wisp of satin aside, he inserted one strong finger into her. Her lower body lifted up and into his hand, and she cried out. “Oh, damn!”
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“Easy,” he whispered, his hand leaving her throat to travel down and across her front, stopping at her breast, and trailing across her nipple. She moaned out load. “Are you trying to draw attention to us, Lark?” That remark was for her benefit. They’d already garnered a few stares. Dillon noticed Stacy, who was on her way over with their wings, do an about-face in the other direction. No doubt folks already had an idea of what was going on over here. Good. Let them look. At least any man thinking about messing with her would know that she was his and therefore off limits. “No,” she breathed out. “Hmm, your breasts are sensitive. I’ll have to remember that,” he murmured, pulling her nipple between his fingers and pinching it softly. Her pussy throbbed against his hand, and his dick hardened. Dillon added another finger, and her pussy clenched his fingers so tightly that he almost came in his pants. He then added a third finger and began to thrust
The Men of Whiskey Creek: Dillon
his
fingers
in
and
out
of
her
25
while
simultaneously using his palm to press down on her groin. Her pussy tightened even more. She was close to climaxing. He could tell by the way her pussy clutched and flexed around his fingers. Damn, he wished it was his cock that she fisted so tightly. But that would come later. Now was for her—she needed this, and he was going to give it to her. Again and again and again. “Easy, baby,” he whispered in her ear. “I can’t. I need to come,” she groaned. “I need to come real bad.” Her lower body moved in rhythm with the thrust of his fingers. He
watched
her
passion-filled
face
through slanted eyes; watched every emotion that crossed it. Damn, if he didn’t think they’d get caught, he’d lift her little skirt up, move her panties aside, release his cock from its confines and impale her on him properly. Instead he pushed into her harder with his fingers and
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commanded, “Then come, Lark. Come for me, baby.” She groaned. Her body trembled as she bore down on his hand. Acting quickly, he covered her mouth with his as she screamed and came all over his hand, her womanly juices trickling slowly down his fingers. “Fuck,” he growled against her lips. He almost came himself. Lifting his mouth from hers, he raised his head to look into her amberbrown eyes. “I wish we were alone.” “Oh man,” she groaned unsteadily. “Oh damn…oh damn.” “Tell me about it,” he moaned, twitching in his seat. His cock was so hard it was becoming painful; his fingers were still resting inside of Lark’s pussy. Dillon slowly removed them, brought them up to his nose and sniffed. “Lovely,” he murmured, then licked her juices off his fingers. He needed to get her alone, needed to be buried balls-deep in her pussy.
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27
“I have to settle a few things. Go up to my apartment and wait for me,” he murmured. “What?” Dillon reached in his pocket, removed a single key from his key chain, and handed it to her. “You heard me. Go up to my apartment and wait for me. You want to be fucked, and I want to fuck you. I’m going to give you what we both want,” he said. “Do you have to be so crude?” He watched her before answering and decided her act of outrage was just that—an act. His authoritative manner was turning her on— he could tell from the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Those were your words, Lark. Besides, from what I’ve just witnessed, you know you want to as much as I do. Come on, I’ll walk you to the private elevator,” he said. Then he leaned forward and whispered against her lips, “Remove all of your clothes and wait for me naked on my bed.”
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“No. I’m not going to lie around your apartment in the nude. You could be another couple of hours in the bar.” The words were defiant, but her voice trembled. “Trust me, I won’t. My dick is so hard it’s all I can do to control my impulse to throw you across the table and give you what we both want so badly. Tell me, Lark, have you ever done it in front of a room full people?” he asked. Dillon watched as her throat worked up and down. He’d caught her by surprise, and from the expression on her face he knew the answer before she even replied. No, she hadn’t, but the idea must have appealed to her. Her passion-filled eyes told the story. He was going to enjoy teaching her new things. Something told him she was not as experienced with sex as she’d led him to believe. Well, he was just the man to teach her, and he’d enjoy every minute of it.
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29
“Did you hear me, Dillon? I am not waiting for you in your apartment naked,” she repeated. Dillon chuckled at the disgruntled look on her face. Without giving thought to his actions, he got up and pulled her up with him, cupping her ass in the process. “Yes, you will, sweetheart. You know why? Because you want me just as much as I want you,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m going to be your favorite drink tonight—Absolut Sex. You once said that you wondered what it would be like to be with a real bad boy…here’s your chance. We have a chance to enjoy one another. No holds barred. If, after tonight, you choose to go your separate way— fine.” Dillon knew that was a lie the moment the words left his lips. He’d gotten a little taste of her and was planning on tasting more and more. “Uh, Dillon, people are starting to stare at us,” she murmured.
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Dillon just looked down into her lightbrown face. “Dillon, let go of my ass. People are staring,” she muttered. Oh shit. He hadn’t realized that he still held her by the ass. Glancing around the bar, he saw that sure enough, people were smiling and smirking at them. Though he didn’t give a damn, he knew she did. And now he had a little leverage. “I’ll let you go, if you promise to wait for me upstairs…naked,” he said. “Stop it,” she huffed, trying to squirm out of his hold. “Keep doing that, and I’ll really give them a show. Agree to my terms,” he said, pulling her farther into him, giving one ass cheek a smack, and then caressing the spot he’d hit. Lark squealed, which garnered a laugh from some of his regular customers. “You are so going to get it when I get you alone,” she whispered,
her
embarrassment.
face
flushed
with
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31
“Counting on it, sweetness.” He laughed. “Do we have a deal?” “Yes, we have a deal, you ingrate,” she stormed. Pushing away from him at last, she turned on her heels and walked toward the back where the elevator was located. “Nice ass,” he called behind her and laughed outright when she flipped him off, stumbling a little in the process. He didn’t know if it was from those four-inch heels she had on or from the lasting effects of the alcohol she’d consumed. Probably a little bit of both. Dillon watched until she was out of sight before he proceeded back to the bar to give Hank a hand. “So, you finally made a move.” Dillon glanced over at the smiling face of his bartender. “What the hell are talking about, Hank?” he barked at his friend. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You and Lark.” “What about me and Lark?”
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“Oh, come on, Dillon. Deny it all you like; I know you’ve always had a thing for her. Even if you didn’t know it yourself,” Hank said. “Really.” Dillon’s voice was icy. It would have scared off most people. Hank was not most people. The tall, mixed-race Native American with striking gray eyes saw too damned much. However, Hank was wrong: he had realized it. In fact, Dillon had realized it a long time ago. He’d just never acted on it. “Yes, really. As I said…don’t bother denying it.” Dillon knew he was fighting a losing battle. He changed the subject. “Can you close up tonight? I have some paperwork to do. Call me if you need me,” he said, and then left the bar area quickly and headed for his office. He needed to take care of a few things before he met Lark upstairs. “Sure thing. See you tomorrow night…or will I?” Hank smirked.
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33
Dillon didn’t bother answering. He didn’t have time for Hank tonight. There was a very sexy woman—hopefully a naked very sexy woman—waiting for him in his apartment, and he definitely wasn’t going to keep her waiting long. Dillon had waited for what seemed like forever to have her in his arms. He damn sure wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to be with her. Lark was his whether she knew it or not. He’d known for a long time that one day Lark was going to be his. Brian had been an obstacle that he hadn’t anticipated. Never did he anticipate her staying with him as long as she had. Bypassing
his
office—the
hell
with
paperwork—he headed straight toward the elevator leading to his upstairs apartment. He was happy he’d had the elevator installed when he’d had the bar built. In addition, he’d also built a security room to monitor the bar. After the fight that had led to the scar running along
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the left side of his face, he’d had cameras and monitors installed so he would never be caught unaware again. Dillon spent a lot of time monitoring those cameras. This week, he’d been helping Hank at the bar until his regular bartender got back next weekend. Now, even though the bar was still packed, he gave the security screens no more than a cursory glance. He wasn’t worried about Hank having a problem. His bouncers were good at their jobs. Very good.
Chapter Three Lark walked around Dillon’s apartment. She’d only been up here a handful of times in the years that they’d known each other. He’d changed the place up a little bit since her last visit, as if he stayed here more. The once bare walls now held beautiful prints. The hardwood floors were covered with area rugs, and there’d been more furniture added. It was a little bit more intimate and personal than the few other times she’d been here. Hmm, interesting, she thought. Dillon had stopped her before she’d gotten straight-out piss-faced drunk, but she still had a little buzz. Sighing because she’d wanted to get good and drunk, she took another moment and mourned the wrench in her plans before deciding that she’d procrastinated long enough. Shimmying out of her skintight dress, she toed off her heels and headed for the bathroom.
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Since Dillon didn’t have a shower cap, she simply tied her hair in a knot atop her head. She might not be getting pissed-face drunk, but she was going to get laid.
Who could’ve
guessed her one-night stand would be Dillon? Standing there in the bathroom naked, Lark looked at her reflection in the steamy mirror and sighed. The woman staring back at her looked more confident than she felt. With skin more light brown than caramel, the thick, blow-dried-straight hair pulled atop her head gave Lark’s amber-colored eyes a slanted look. A pouty mouth and high cheekbones gave her the appearance of a tanned Asian doll. Lark noticed that even his soap was manly. He must not have had too many women visitors in this place, because nothing in here reeked of a woman. Then again, knowing Dillon, his female visitors wouldn’t stay long anyway. Well, that was none of her business. She wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship. The fiasco with Brian had pretty much
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37
confirmed her plight. Not that she was ever in love with Brian, but being cheated on by your lover, and with a man, no less, did something to one’s pride. From the looks of things, he shared more passion with his lover than he’d ever shared with her. She stepped in the shower, adjusted the temperature, and while the warm spray caressed her she belted out her favorite shower tune. Her sex life with Brian was always lacking something—mainly sex. She should’ve known the truth. Maybe she had and simply chose to ignore it.
Brian hardly ever kissed her, and
when he did, it was more the kiss of a friend than of a lover. Well now she knew why, since he sure as hell didn’t have a problem kissing the guy she’d caught him with. Brian had left her several messages on her cell phone trying to apologize. He’d even shown up at her house, but it wasn’t until he was standing at her car outside of her workplace that she finally broke down and told
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him to kiss her ass. The only thing Brian had been concerned about was whether she was going to spill the beans—he didn’t care about her feelings at all. It was a good thing she’d always insisted he wear a condom. The thought of her catching some kind of STI, or worse, HIV from his infidelity made her ill. She and Brian hadn’t been intimate since her last physical for her insurance company six months ago. Since the amount of the policy was so high, they’d tested Lark for everything. Thank God she was disease free. But as angry as she was, she’d never given a thought to making Brian’s extracurricular activities public. Lark was so caught up in her memories, she didn’t realize Dillon had entered the apartment. When the shower door slid back, she jumped half a foot, almost slipping on the slick shower floor.
She steadied herself by
bracing a hand against the wall. “Dammit, Dillon, you scared the daylights out of me!” she screeched.
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39
“Sorry about that.” He smiled, not looking sorry at all. “I thought you were going to be gone for a little while longer,” she said, one hand against her chest as she tried to control her rapid heartbeat; her breasts heaved up and down as she nearly hyperventilated. “I thought so, too, until I thought of you up here with nothing on. That changed my mind very quickly,” he murmured, his eyes traveling up and down her body, stopping at her chest. Her heartbeat accelerated, her nipples hardened, and her pussy thumped. She realized she was standing in the middle of the shower, holding a bar of soap in her hand, and staring open-mouthed at a shirtless Dillon. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, taking a handful of condoms out of his pocket, and then dispensing with his jeans. Lark noticed that he went commando. When the jeans came down, they revealed a very impressive cock.
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“Uh, no I don’t mind at all,” she said, licking her lips as she kept her eyes focused on his cock. She wanted him so much. “Good,” Dillon responded, climbing into the shower, putting the condoms in the soap dish, and taking the soap out of her hands. Turning her so that her back was to him, he began to soap her body, starting with her breasts. Her head fell back to lie against his chest. “I love your breasts,” he whispered against her neck. He used his tongue to lick a path from her neck to her cheek and circled her earlobe, while simultaneously rubbing her breasts with the bar of soap. She moaned as he gave each breast the same attention. His hand lingered on her nipples, rubbing the soap in a circular motion around her areoles and nipples. Lark loved nipple play, and boy was he doing a damned good job of it. His hand traveled from her breasts, down her abdomen, to her sex, and then back up to her breasts.
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41
“You like that?” he murmured in her ear, and then nipped her earlobe, earring and all, with his teeth. “Yes,” she breathed. “I get to wash you too, right?” “Of course,” Dillon mumbled, turning her to face him. He placed the soap in her hand and guided her hand to his erection. “Wash away.” “I intend to,” she said, her hand moving away from his cock, up his abdomen, to slide over his chest. “Nice.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said as he tilted her head back and brought his mouth down to cover hers. He took her lips with a kiss that left nothing to the imagination, pulling her tongue into his mouth and sucking. Their tongues danced with familiarity and longing. Lark had never experienced a kiss like the one she was sharing with Dillon…so possessive and demanding. She gave as much as she took. The soap fell from her hands as she lifted her
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arms to encircle them around his neck. The kiss deepened, and she moaned into his mouth. His hands traveled down her back to her ass, pulling her lower body closer to his straining cock, which prodded her belly. She couldn’t help gyrating her hips against him. He growled into her mouth. Lark quickly tore her lips away from his to rain kisses across his nipples. Using her tongue, she circled the dark bud before pulling the pert nipple into her mouth and licking— first one, then the other. Going down on her knees, she brought her lips within mere inches of his protruding cock. The thickly veined member was nestled between neatly trimmed, dark pubic hair. It was so beautiful it almost made her want to cry. “Very nice,” she murmured, grasping his erection in her hand and watching his pre-cum seep from its slit. She stared at the bulbous head of his cock, taking in the mushroomshaped tip. He was long and thick, but not
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43
overly so. What he didn’t have in girth he definitely made up for in length. The hook at the end made it even more desirable. Just thinking of all the spots he could hit inside her made her cream even more. “Are you going to stare at it all day, or are you planning on doing something with it?” Dillon choked out. Without saying a word, Lark parted her lips and brought his cock into her mouth. She took as much of him in as she possibly could and then released him before pulling him back in. Lark covered the tip of his erection with her lips and sucked, before engulfing most of his length into her hot, moist mouth. After sucking gently, she released it, and then repeated the process. “Whoa, shit,” he growled, taking hold of her head and holding it steady as if he feared she’d change her mind and stop. She gagged on his cock, and Dillon released his hold on her head with something that could have been a
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groan of desire or an apology. Lark pulled her head away to gather air into her lungs and simply stared at his length once again. “Fuck, yeah!” he yelled. His back arched. Lark worked her mouth up and down his cock, licking and sucking his tip. Dillon used her head to guide her as he thrust in and out of her mouth. “Ah, yeah, baby, that’s so good,” he cried, angling her head to push deeper into her mouth. She took as much of him in as she could. He was pushing deep—deep enough that she almost gagged again. Taking hold of his hips with both hands, she tried to control the rhythm of his thrusts.
“Mmm,” she gurgled
around his cock. “That’s it, baby, take it all,” he groaned, pushing so deep he almost hit the back of her throat. Take him she did. Removing one hand from his ass, she palmed his balls, squeezing
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and caressing them. He continued to pump into her mouth. What Lark couldn’t fit in her mouth she caressed with her hand. She loved the feel of him in her hand and in her mouth as his deep, guttural groans coaxed her on. She felt powerful. He was putty in her hands. He pulsated in her mouth, causing little tremors to run through her body. The water from the shower cascading down her back only added to the sensations she was feeling. Her pussy throbbed with arousal, and she felt his balls drawing up in her hand as his cock hardened more. He was close to coming. But before she knew what was happening, he’d pulled her mouth off his erection with a pop.
She
protested, grabbing for his cock, wanting to bring it back to her mouth. “Not this time, baby. When I come for the first time with you, I want to be buried ballsdeep in that tight pussy of yours,” he murmured, pulling her up to him and reaching
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behind her to turn off the water. “Turn around and put your hands against the wall,” he demanded, quickly sheathing his arousal. Lark did as he asked, planting her palms flat against the wall and pushing her ass up. “Fucking gorgeous,” he cried, smacking her on her ass. She cried out, her pussy thumped, and she almost came then and there. “You like that, huh?” he asked, using his hand to align his cock with her opening. “Spread your legs a little bit more, baby.” Lark obeyed and felt him brush her pussy. She jumped at the contact and wiggled her hips but didn’t penetrate her deeper. Finally, he sunk his thick digit into her drenched pussy before quickly removing it and replacing it with the head of his cock. “Hold on tight, baby,” he grunted before surging up into her, causing her feet to leave the shower floor.
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“Ugh!” she yelled, pushing back against him. “Fuck!” he groaned. “Damn, baby, your tight box is holding me like a fisted glove.” He pounded into her relentlessly, pulling almost all the way out and then surging back in. She had to plant her feet and grip the tile wall tightly with her palms to keep from sliding forward. “Harder!” she screamed. Her breasts jiggled as he pushed into her. With his hands on her waist, he drove into her hard, using his grip to propel her up and down on his cock. He removed one hand from her waist to reach forward and fondle her breast. And still he pummeled into her. “Oh, God,” Lark cried as she met him stroke for stroke. She felt her impending climax from her toes. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably. “Oh fuck, Dillon, I’m about to come.” “Come then,” he choked out, pushing deep into her, holding her close to his groin.
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Dillon was embedded in her so deeply, Lark felt every inch of him. She screamed, and her womanly juices flowed freely down his hard cock. His balls were drawing up against her ass. He was about to come, and it felt like his dick was getting bigger the closer he got to climaxing. “Shit! Fuck! Oh, fuck!” he shouted, straining against her—spilling his seed into the condom. “Whoa!” “Tell me about it,” she murmured, still trying to catch her breath. She continued to gyrate
against
him.
Despite
having
just
experienced one of the best orgasms of her life, she was still aroused. “Round two in the bedroom,” Dillon strained out as he pulled out of her. “Round two?” she questioned. Her eyes bulged…but her heart fluttered in anticipation. “Yes, round two.” He smiled, taking the condom off and tossing it in the trash. Turning her around, he drew her tightly into his
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49
Leaning forward, he captured her
lips with his in a scorching kiss. The kiss went on and on for a few moments before he ended it. “Let’s get another shower first,” he said, reaching behind her to turn the showerhead on. Dillon quickly washed her thoroughly before helping her out of the shower. He pulled a big, fluffy white towel off the towel rack and slowly dried her. Lark shivered when he brought the towel between her legs, paying close attention to her clit. Oh my damn, does he know how to work me, she thought. Before she knew what was happening she found herself being lifted up. He headed out of the bathroom to the bedroom, where he dropped her naked onto the bed, then quickly walked over to the nightstand and grabbed several condoms, dropping them on the on the bed next to her. She lifted up on her elbows, looked at him, and licked her lips—he looked real good standing in front of the bed in the buff. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him—all
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hard ridges and muscles. And for tonight, he belonged to her. With that knowledge, Lark stretched her legs wide, opening herself to him, and revealing her swollen pussy. “Like what you see?” she purred, and watched as his eyes darkened. “Hell, yeah,” he moaned, licking his lips. “Then come and get it,” she smirked, bringing her finger to her swollen clit and fingering herself. “Stop that,” he barked. “Make me.” She smiled, patting her clit. “Not a problem,” he growled.
Chapter Four Dropping to his knees, Dillon smacked Lark’s hand away from her sex. “My pussy,” he growled, and his nostrils flared at the sight of her glistening pink pussy. Leaning forward, he lifted her hips so that her sex aligned with his mouth and swiped her labia with his tongue. Her hips contorted in his hands as she lifted herself further into his mouth. “Mmm,” she cried. Dillon licked and sucked her wet pussy inside out. He consumed her like she was his favorite meal—which, at this moment, she was. Her womanly scent was driving him crazy. Damn, she tasted good. She’d grabbed hold of his head and was grinding herself into his face. Dillon inserted his tongue inside her, going as deep into her as he could reach, working his tongue in and out of her. Pulling his tongue out, he pulled her
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little nub between his lips and sucked it into his mouth. Lark was pulling his hair so hard, he could swear she’d pulled some out of his head. “Oh fuck, Dillon!” she cried out. “That’s so good.” Ignoring her, he went on about his task by adding a finger into the mix. She was so responsive, and he loved it. He alternated between fingering her and tonguing her until she was out of control. From the way her pussy was pulsating against his tongue, he knew she was on the verge of coming again. She spread her legs wider, allowing him better access to her. His tongue went deeper, and she moaned louder. “Dillon! Dillon,” she panted over and over again. He nipped gently at her clit with his teeth, causing her to explode all over his tongue. “Yes!” she shouted. “Yes.”
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He kept licking until her tremors slowed down. “Not finished yet,” he groaned, as he sheathed himself. Pulling her toward the edge of the bed, Dillon placed her legs on his shoulders, and thrust deep into her. He took her with the fierceness of a man possessed, pounding into her, yet it still wasn’t enough. He needed more—to get closer. He needed to get closer. “Get on all fours, Lark,” he commanded, dropping her legs from around his waist and pulling out of her. Dillon
watched
as
she
obeyed
his
command. The pinkness of her pussy lips peeked out at him, causing him to take hold of his cock and pump it up and down. As pretty as she was with her ass up in the air and her sex opened to him, he needed her to get in the middle of the bed. “I need you in the middle of the bed, Lark,” he murmured, and watched as she moved farther up in the bed into the position he had dictated.
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He climbed into the bed and positioned himself behind her to line his cock up with her opening. “You have the most scrumptious ass,” he said, and then leaned forward and nipped her ass cheek. Dillon straightened himself up, reared back and pushed into her, causing her entire body to move forward on the bed. “Hold on to the headboard,” he choked out, pulling out and surging back into her. Repeatedly he pushed in and out of her, his balls slapping against her ass as if he were spanking
her.
“My
pussy,”
he
chanted.
“My…pussy.” “Oh, God,” she crooned, pushing her ass back into him. “Say it, Lark. My pussy,” he demanded. “Oh, Gooodd! Your pussy,” she cried, slamming back against him. “That’s my girl,” he roared, pounding into her with everything he had. As much as he gave, she gave back to him, meeting him every thrust for delicious thrust.
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She was perfect. And she didn’t know it yet, but she was stuck with him. There was no way in hell he was letting her go. As skittish as she was about making a commitment, he was in this for the long haul—she was his. Now all he had to do was convince her that they belonged together. His hands roamed up her back and across her front to capture her breasts and squeeze, while he continued rhythmically surging into her from behind. “I love your breasts,” he breathed, as he tugged on a distended nipple. “They’re perfect—nice and firm.” “Umm, just keep doing what you’re doing,” she moaned, gripping the headboard tighter and pushing back harder against him. Dillon threw his head back and howled. His shaft cocooned in her warm heat sent sensation after sensation rippling through his body. They fit together so perfectly. “Baby, I need you to come. I don’t think I can hold on
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any longer,” he yelled, feeling his balls beginning to draw up. No sooner had he said it than he felt her tighten around him. “Go
ahead…I’m…right…behind…you,”
she cried out, dropping her hands from the headboard and rearing back against him. “Oh yeah,” he growled, throwing his head back. The muscles in his arms and neck corded as he pumped into her three times before coming. His body spasmed so hard when he came, he felt lightheaded. “SHIT!” he yelled. Her pussy was still squeezing him, milking him for everything he had. She screamed, straining back against him, trembling and shaking. “Damn, baby, it gets better every time with you. You’re the best,” he breathed out, collapsing on her back. Rolling off of her and onto the bed, he pulled her into his embrace, her back to his front. His cock rested between the folds of her ass. Her hair had come loose
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from the confines of her bun, and he was now running his fingers through the thick strands. “You’re
not
so
bad
yourself,”
she
murmured, still trying to catch her breath. Turning her head back toward his, she planted a kiss on his lips. Dillon kissed her back with fervor before releasing her lips. “I need to get going,” she whispered. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. If you think you’re going to leave my bed at one o’clock in the morning, you have another think coming,” he snapped. “The only thing we’re both going to do tonight is sleep— unless you’re up to another round?” “You can’t still be able to…uh…” She stopped. “Get it up?” he snickered, finishing her sentence for her. “Trust me, it wouldn’t take much.” He rubbed up against her to prove his point. “Oh my,” she gasped.
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Dillon snickered. “Yes. So we’re going to sleep, wake up, and make love all over again,” he murmured. “Fuck. Not make love,” she corrected. “If you say so.” “I know so.” “Get some sleep, Lark, or I’ll show you just how wrong you are,” he ordered. “We can screw all night and it’ll still be just what it is—fucking,” she said firmly. Dillon knew it was best not to argue with her at the moment. She was scared and throwing up barriers. That was okay with him. He was going to enjoy breaking through every last one of those walls she’d built around her heart. It was going to be a lot of work, but he was up to the task. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he crooned. ”You’ll be screaming my name either way.”
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“Don’t patronize me, Dillon. And stop calling
me
sweetheart.
We
had
tonight.
Tomorrow it’s over. No repeats,” she said. Dillon sighed heavily. “Listen, Lark, you’re free and I’m free. Why can’t we just enjoy one another’s company for now? No strings
attached,”
he
said,
rolling
her
underneath him and looking down into her eyes. “Dillon,” she strained out. “No strings. Promise,” he said, raining kisses across her face and neck. He was lying, of course. He was going to do his level best to keep her by his side forever. “Say yes,” he pleaded, rolling his hips against her pelvis. “Umm, yes,” she breathed out. “Thank you,” he said, using his legs to widen hers and then sliding into her. “I promise to make it worth your while.” “You already are,” she sighed, lifting her hips and moving them in tune with his thrusts. “You already are.”
Chapter Five Lark sat in her kitchen nook sipping on her second cup of mocha java, trying to concentrate on the loan documents before her. She had a closing in one hour, and she still hadn’t checked the documents to make sure everything was in order. The bank had faxed the documents to her home fax machine, as she was working as an independent title closer until she could earn enough money to start her own company. That was going to be happening real soon. She’d gotten a small business loan on top of the cash she already had on hand, and now she was just waiting for construction to be finished. If everything went according to plan, the doors of Infinity Title Company would open within the next three months. She already had a small group of people whom
she’d
used
whenever
she
wasn’t
available. That same group of signing agents,
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along with a few independent appraisers, would come under her umbrella once the doors opened. All she needed to do now was interview and hire a few customer service reps. Lark had spent a great deal of time working out her business plan and was happy with the direction everything was going so far. She was also blessed to have her sisters helping her out—Sasha, who was an attorney, and Taylor, an accountant. Yes, she was excited about her plans. Today,
though,
she
felt
something
different—excited, of course, but all of a sudden, lonely, too. She sighed deeply. Her time with Dillon had evidently fried her brain. “Damn, girl, you need to get it together,” she said to the empty room. She’d gotten home yesterday evening, taken a shower and gone straight to bed. Dillon had sexed her up all over his apartment. They’d done it on the bathroom countertop, the kitchen table, the couch, his king-sized bed and the dresser in his bedroom,
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and now she was sore in spots she hadn’t known existed until this past weekend. Her bad-boy friend was definitely hot in bed. Lark had only dreamed of some of the positions he’d had her in. Lark rubbed her wrist and smiled. Dillon had tied her hands to the headboard of the bed and fucked her from behind. She was getting wet just thinking about all the things he’d done to her. As she had discovered, Dillon loved kinky sex…and, well, apparently so did she. No matter how rough the sex was, he’d always made sure she took her pleasure first. Dillon was definitely a considerate lover. Her first yet. She’d loved every delicious moment of being with him. Sex with him had been the absolute best she’d ever had, and if she wasn’t careful
she
could
fall
for
him
completely…something that she didn’t need in her life. Love was for fools. No more
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relationships for her—she’d struck out often enough. The sound of her doorbell ringing startled her out of her wayward thoughts. Slipping off the kitchen stool, she walked out to the foyer to answer the door. Her pumps clicked loudly against the hardwood floor. She didn’t know who’d be on her doorstep this early in the morning—her sisters were already at work, and her parents were on a cruise. Rising up on her toes, she peered out of her peephole to find none other than Dillon standing on her doorstep. Unlocking the door, she swung it open. “Dillon, what are you doing here?” She wasn’t sure whether to curse or say a quick prayer of thanksgiving. He snickered. “I’ve come to see you, of course.” “Why?” she asked. Since when did Dillon show up at her front door at ten o’clock in the morning?
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“Can I come in?” he asked. She hesitated a moment before finally stepping aside to allow him to step over the threshold. Closing the door after him, Lark caught the scent of his aftershave as he walked past her. That and his overwhelming presence caused her to tingle all over. He looked good standing in her foyer in his faded blue jeans, black t-shirt and work boots. His blue-green eyes made his already dark hair appear darker under the sun of the skylight. Sexy. Lark shifted from one foot to the other, trying to stem the flow of womanly juices that were now seeping from her sex. This was so not good. She didn’t need or want to feel anything for this man. “What’s going on?” she asked again, adding an edge to her voice this time. “Nothing, Lark. I missed you and wanted to see you,” he responded. “Impossible. We haven’t even been apart twenty-four hours yet,” she snickered. Her
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heart did a little pitter-patter. She didn’t want to admit it, but his declaration sent tingles of joy throughout her body. She had missed him too. Oh so much. “So?” he said, advancing toward her. He stood directly in front of her. “I missed you being in my bed.” Lark cleared her throat. “Really?” she murmured, her heart nearly skipping a beat. Oh man, she was in trouble. She couldn’t afford to get in deeper with him. “Yes, really,” he whispered huskily. “I want you. Right here, right now.” “Dillon, I can’t. I have a closing in less than an hour, and it’s going to take me at least half an hour to get there depending on traffic,” she protested weakly. He looked so good standing there she could jump his bones right now. “Then we’d better stop talking and get to it,” he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her.
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Lark’s lips parted under his command. The kiss was demanding. Their tongues danced. Teeth touched and clacked in their haste to get closer to each other. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and her fingers instantly tangled in the hair at his nape. Lark strained closer to him and moaned into his mouth at the feel of his hands caressing her ass. His hands were moving in a circular motion across the soft globes, sending a ding straight to her core. Before she knew what was happening, he’d lifted her up by her buttocks and pinned her against the wall. Her legs instantly wrapped around his hips as her short skirt bunched up around her waist. His erection,
prominent
through
his
jeans,
throbbed against her clit. She bucked against him. The friction sent her senses and her arousal into overdrive. She wanted more. No, she needed more. Her hands left his hair and went down to the waistband of his jeans and up and under his
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t-shirt. Once there, her fingers roamed freely over his torso, around his back, and across his abdomen. His hips gyrated against hers, causing her to pull her mouth away from his and cry out. Her voice was hoarse with passion, and her pussy juices drenched the thin material of her thong. “I need you now,” she cried against his neck, her hands moving between them to grasp hold of the button of his jeans and loosen it while simultaneously sliding his zipper down. She pushed his jeans partway down his hips. He wiggled his butt, and the jeans dropped to his feet as if by magic. “Hold
on,
baby,”
he
strained
out
breathlessly, shifting her in his hands. He used his lower body to hold her more firmly against the wall as his hand went under her skirt to rip her thong off.
Dropping it to the floor, he
spread her legs open. Lark’s arms encircled his shoulders. Her back was firmly braced against the wall and her
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legs were wrapped loosely around his waist. He’d shifted her a bit so that the tip of him was now aligned with her center, and her pussy vibrated with need. His first thrust was to the hilt. “Shit, Dillon!” she cried out, her head shaking from side to side against the wall. “Fuck! I know, baby. Hold on, this is going to be quick,” he growled, pulling almost all the way out and surging back into her. “So good,” she moaned on his next thrust. Lark tried to clamp down on him, but he wasn’t having it. His cock pushed in and out of her in a frenzy, and damned if he wasn’t hitting all the right spots. She tried to clasp his hips with her legs, but he clamped her legs between his forearms to open her wider—the four-inch pumps still on her feet dangled. This position allowed her to meet his thrusts. He leaned forward and nipped her nipple through the sheerness of her blouse and lace bra. Lark’s
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lower body rocked hard against him, and she thrust her hips to meet every thrust of his hips. Lark’s body felt as if it were on fire; she tingled and vibrated all over. She was on the verge of climaxing, and from the way her body was shaking, this was going to be a big one. There was no way she could hold back. “Dillon…Dillon!” she screamed. “I know, baby,” he moaned. “Your tight little pussy is holding me so good.” “I…can’t…hold…on,” she cried. “Good. Neither can I,” he groaned. “Come on, baby. Come for me.” “Oh, my…damn!” she yelled and came so hard her eyes rolled back in her head. “Hell, yeah!” he shouted, pushing into her one…two…three times before holding his pelvis against hers and finding his own release. His seed touching her womb caused little aftershocks to shoot through her. She cried out her passion again and moaned.
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“That’s it, baby, take all of me,” he demanded,
holding
her
close
until
her
trembling subsided. Lark’s head dropped to his shoulder. Her breathing was labored. “Wow!” She laughed into the crook of his neck. “My thoughts exactly.” He chuckled. “Aren’t you glad I stopped by?” “Oh, my God!” she cried, trying to disengage herself from his grasp. “I have a closing. Shit. I’m going to have to shower again. Put me down, Dillon.” “I will…in a second. You want to meet this evening after work?” he asked. “I can’t. I’m meeting Sasha for dinner,” she said. “What about after?” he asked. “It’ll be too late,” she responded. “Dillon, I have to go.” “Agree to meet me,” he said, placing tiny kisses along the side of her neck and face
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“How about I call you tomorrow? Today is just not a good day,” she said anxiously, looking at her watch. He was still embedded inside of her, and he wasn’t budging. “How about you call me tonight when you’re finished, and we’ll see,” he scowled, with a lift of one dark brow. Lark looked at the stubborn set of his jaw and sighed. It would be fruitless to argue with him, and anyway, she didn’t have the time. She needed to shower and change—fast. “All right, you beast, I’ll call you when I get in tonight. Now move it so I can get that shower,” she said firmly. He smirked at her, pulled out of her, and then dropped her legs, holding on to her until she was steady on her feet. She immediately missed the closeness of his body connected to hers. But instead of pulling up his jeans, he stepped fully out of them, bent at the knees and lifted her up in his arms.
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“What the hell?” she squealed. She looked into his eyes and saw merriment. “Dillon, what are you doing? I do not have time to play around. I mean it.” “I’m carrying you to the shower,” he said cheerfully. “Oh, no you are not,” she cried. “You are not taking a shower with me. I’ll never get out of here.” “Why not? I have to shower. You have to shower. Why not kill two birds with one stone?” He walked down the hall to the bathroom with her in his arms. “Oh, Lord, I’m going to be really late,” she cried, burying his face into his shoulder. He chuckled. “I’ll be quick,” he said, walking into the bathroom, placing her on her feet, and undressing her. Then he looked at her naked body appreciatively. “Then again, maybe I won’t.”
Chapter Six Dillon
was
pissed.
Lark
had
been
avoiding him since he’d showed up at her house three weeks ago and they’d ended up having sex in her foyer and then in the shower. Needless to say, she’d ended up being five minutes late for her appointment. No one minded because the bank’s attorney had been delayed too. Still, she’d cursed him for her close call, and Dillon had apologized. He hadn’t intended on her being late. Hell, he hadn’t intended on having her twice that morning. All he knew was that he’d woken up with a need for her so great he’d found himself ringing her doorbell before he knew what was happening. Until a week ago, other than work, they’d practically been inseparable since that night. She was in his blood. They’d alternated between places. During the week he stayed the night at her place, and on weekends she met
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him at his apartment over the bar. They were explosive together in bed. He’d made love to every square inch of her delectable body. So why the hell is she avoiding me now? He’d shown her in more than one way that what they shared wasn’t simply fucking, not the way she referred to it anyway. She wanted to make it sound dirty. That way, she wouldn’t have to acknowledge her feelings for him. He’d learned more about her in the short time they’d been sleeping together than in the entire time they’d known each other. Dillon hadn’t known that the man she called ‘dad’ was really her stepdad. He’d adopted Lark and her sisters when they were young, giving mother and children his last name and a stable home. Lark’s natural father had walked out on her mother, leaving her with three very young children to care for on her own. That kind of explained her commitment issues, he thought. Still she was a lot more gun-shy than she
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should be, especially considering the fact that she loved her stepfather to distraction. He’d tried unsuccessfully to meet up with her for over a week now. Each time he called, she had an excuse. A few days ago, she’d said her parents were back from their cruise and she would be staying with them in Ridge for a few days. “You want to play that game, Lark? I’ll give you another day, and if you haven’t come to me by then, I’m coming after you!” he declared to his empty office. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily, dammit.” The knock on his office door made him jump. What the hell is wrong now? he thought. But then, this was a Friday night…one of his busiest nights, so anything was liable to happen. His security team and bouncers were great at handling things at the bar, but every once in a while he’d have to show his face to keep order. A moment later, the knock on his door sounded again.
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“Come in,” he yelled. The door opened, and Dillon watched as his friend and, as of a month ago, silent business partner walked in, shutting the door behind him. “What’s up, Hank?” he asked with a frown. “Uh, I think you need to see this,” Hank said. Dillon would have thought it was really serious had it not been for the smile he saw behind Hank’s eyes. Still, his interest was piqued. “What’s going on?” Dillon asked wearily. “And who’s tending the bar?” Hand snickered. “Boy, your head really is in
the
clouds.
Steve
is
back
tonight,
remember?” Dillon frowned. “Oh yeah, I’d forgotten. And my head is not in the clouds. I just have a lot on my mind,” he snapped.
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“Yes, well what’s on your mind is what you need to get out there and check out,” Hank said with a grin. Dillon’s frown lines deepened. “I’m not fucking in the mood for games, Hank. What are you talking about?” he barked. Hank registered Dillon’s anger and came straight to the point. “The object of your desire is out there on the dance floor, shaking her assets for someone else. I must say…she’s in rare form tonight.” “Lark’s in the bar?” Dillon said, jumping up from his seat and heading to the door. He swung the door opened with a loud bang and stalked out of his office and toward the bar, Hank on his heels. “Head over to the dance floor,” Hank directed him. Dillon stopped in his tracks, turned to look over his shoulder at Hank, and then turned back and scanned the room until his eyes landed on the dance floor. She was there
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sure enough—sandwiched between what were soon going to be two very dead males. Lark was wearing what he supposed was a dress. The way it molded to her body, it looked more like she’d pulled on a muscle top that was too long to pass for a shirt and too short and tight to pass for a dress. In spite of his anger, Dillon found himself wondering curiously, How many of those fuck-me dresses does she own? “What the hell is she doing?” he snarled. “And what is she wearing?” “Dancing is what she’s doing,” Hank answered with a chuckle. “As for what she’s wearing…I suppose it could be a dress. But then again, I have been known to be wrong on occasion. Whatever it is, she’s working the hell out of it.” “The hell she is,” Dillon growled, starting purposefully toward the dance floor. “Need some help?” Hank asked.
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“No,”
Dillon
tossed
back
79
over
his
shoulder. “You can head back to the bar. I can handle this.” “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick around, just in case,” Hank replied. “And please remember, murder is considered a serious crime in fifty out of fifty states.” “Suit yourself,” Dillon stormed, as he proceeded toward Lark and her two dance partners. *** Lark was happy the slow song had ended and a nice reggae-tone beat was playing. The guy dancing behind her had been grinding on her ass ever since the slow song had started. As much as she had thought she wanted another man tonight, the man’s hardened dick against her ass did nothing for her. In fact, it had started to piss her off. She didn’t know whether the guy was trying to bust a nut on the dance
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floor or what, and she wasn’t about to find out. The moment the song changed, she quickly put some distance between them. She didn’t know what had possessed her to dance with two men at once. The back of her mind screamed out rebellion. Probably true. Dillon had absolutely gotten too close for comfort. Lark was so busy dancing and in her own little world that she hadn’t seen Dillon approaching her on the dance floor. If she had, the anger in his eyes might have given her pause. After leaving her parents’ place, she’d come home to an empty house. Being with Dillon for those three weeks, and then spending the last couple of days with her parents, suddenly had her feeling lonely and trapped. It was ironic—Brian had often stayed the night with her and she at his place, but she’d never felt as lonely when he wasn’t with her as she did after being with Dillon. That obviously meant she wasn’t in love with Brian…Wait. Did
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that mean she was falling in love with Dillon? Yeah, fool, she chided herself. That’s what this stupidity you pulled tonight is about anyway. The thought had scared her. The walls had begun to close in on her, and she had decided to declare her freedom from all men. Even Dillon. Especially Dillon. Lark had put on one of her skimpiest outfits and headed for the bar. She had to prove to herself that she could do without Dillon. He was just another man she’d enjoyed having great sex with—she was definitely not in love with him. In lust? For sure. Love? Not bloody likely. She didn’t do love, not anymore. No, she was simply going to enjoy the men in the bar tonight, and then leave and go home…alone. And if Dillon saw her carrying on…well, he should be able to figure out where he stood then, shouldn’t he? Lark’s body shimmied and gyrated to the upbeat sound of the music blaring from the
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DJ’s speakers. She’d started dancing with one guy, and then, all of a sudden, another joined the mix. Since it was a fast beat, she didn’t mind, but the dude dancing behind her kept finding excuses to get up on her ass. In contrast, the dude in front seemed pretty cool. Nice looking, although he did look a little embarrassed when she glanced up at him. Lark had a feeling that these two men knew each other, and the saner one was embarrassed by his friend’s behavior. This was the third song she had danced to. She’d wanted to call it quits after the second one, but they’d teased her and convinced her to stay on the floor for one more song, and she’d agreed. Now Lark wished she would have just taken her seat. Mr. Creepy Crawley’s hands were everywhere but where they were supposed to be…at his sides. She’d had to redirect those hands more than once, and instead of getting the message, he was just getting more
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persistent. The next time, she decided, I’ll jab him in the gut. “I think you need to remove your hands if you want to keep them,” Lark heard someone say coldly. At first she thought that she’d spoken her own thoughts aloud—until she saw the eyes of the man in front of her bulge. He stopped moving and appeared to be peering at something above her head. Lark whipped her own head around to see what had so spooked her partner. She was met by the red-hot, angry gaze of the man she’d been trying so hard to forget. Dillon. He spared her just one contemptuous glance before turning his attention back to the man with the traveling hands. He looked as though he wanted to rip the dude’s arms out of their sockets. TwiddleDumb didn’t get it. Lark could see it in his eyes. After the initial shock, he’d decided he was going to try to put up a fight. The man looked to be in pretty good shape, too, well built, and
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judging from the tight fit of his clothes, he knew it and liked for others to know it too. The man flexed his muscles. Lark could tell he’d capitalized on his build on more than one occasion. Oh yeah, she knew the type. Muscle-bound bullies: all brawn and no brains. “Just who the hell are you?” the jackass sneered at Dillon. “The lady isn’t complaining. We’re having a good time here. Get lost!” he barked, turning his back on Dillon to face her. From the corner of her eye, Lark noticed the guy who’d been dancing in front of her had turned and was walking quickly off the dance floor. That left her, Dillon, and Mr. Stupid standing around staring at each other. Mr. Stupid didn’t even seem to realize that his life was in danger. He obviously wasn’t familiar with Dillon’s reputation. Within a minute, everyone else had cleared the dance floor. The other patrons were now watching the scene playing out before them the way people sometimes stopped to watch a gory car crash.
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Lark flinched. In all fairness, she couldn’t let Mr. Stupid be killed because of her. “Oh, brother,” she sighed heavily, which garnered a snarl from Dillon. Mr. Stupid turned toward Dillon and flexed his muscles, again. She guessed he was trying to intimidate Dillon. Given the daggers shooting from Dillon’s eyes and the way the jagged scar on the side of his face twitched, the only thing dude was doing was pissing Dillon off even more. Lark started to wring her hands together. This was so not how she wanted her night to end. She’d better intervene before things get out of hand. “Ah…Dillon...what are you doing? We were just dancing,” she murmured, careful to make sure her tone wasn’t flippant. Mr. Stupid chimed in. “Yeah, we were only dancing, and we’d like to get back to it, if you don’t mind.”
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The scar twitched again. “Dance over,” Dillon barked, stepping around the man as if he were a stain on the floor and coming face-toface with Lark. “You either walk away with me on your own, or I’m going to carry you out of here. Which will it be, Lark?” “Listen, Dillon…” she started. “Wrong answer.” He bent at the knees, using his powerful lower body to lift her up and over his shoulder. She screeched. This was even worse than a fight would have been. “Dillon, put me down,” she cried. “No,” he said, pulling her dress down over her hips. He turned to leave, but the hand on his arm stopped his progress. “Hey, where are you taking my partner?” she heard the voice of Mr. Stupid ask. There was a hushed sound throughout the bar. The music stopped. From Lark’s position over Dillon’s shoulder, she saw the man hit the floor, but she had no idea how he’d gotten there. She
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did, however, see Dillon’s foot lodged against the man’s windpipe and the man trying to free himself from Dillon’s foot…without success. “Stay there,” Dillon barked down at the man. Lark saw the shadows of two bouncers a second before their feet and their pants came into view. Good Lord, this was embarrassing. What’s more, all of the blood was rushing to her head, making her dizzy and sick. She banged on Dillon’s back with her fists. “Dillon, put me down. I can’t breathe,” she yelled. “Handle that,” Lark heard him tell the bouncers before removing his foot and leaving the dance floor, still carrying her like a sack of potatoes. His strides were long and purposeful. From the direction in which he was walking, Lark knew that he was headed to his office. One of his bouncers yelled something to him. Dillon didn’t answer, nor did he break his stride. Storming into his office, he slammed the door shut with the heel of his foot and then strode
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over to his desk, placed Lark on top of it, and slammed his mouth roughly down on hers. As upset as she was with him for his heman tactics, her body still went pliant under his assault on her lips. She drew his tongue into her mouth and sucked. He was angry—she could tell in the rough manner in which he fisted her hair and kissed her. She could taste his anger in the kiss, but she could also taste his desire. His hold on her hair relaxed. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Lark ran her fingers through the hair at the base of Dillon’s neck, her body straining to get closer to his. She moaned into his mouth. Lark had missed the taste and feel of him. Her hands left his hair and pulled his shirt from his pants and up and over his head. Then she threw the shirt across the room—her hands roamed over his perfect torso, finally coming back up to catch hold of his hair. Lark was on fire. Her straining nipples became harder as she leaned into his naked
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chest, and her pussy pooled. Oh Lord, she needed him bad. As if sensing her need, Dillon released his hold on her, wrenched his mouth from hers, and rained little kisses along the column of her neck while simultaneously pulling her dress down, freeing her breasts. She groaned out loud and threw her head back, giving him better access. When he brought one peak into his mouth and sucked, Lark almost came on the spot…she was already that close to climaxing. “Dillon,” she moaned. Her hands went to the buckle of his pants, but he pushed them away. Instead he reached between them, pulled her dress over her hips, ripped off her thong, and tossed them to the floor. Without hesitation, he undid his buckle, pushed his pants down, and spread her legs. Lark licked her lips in anticipation. Not saying one word to her, not even looking in her face, he then pulled her to the very edge of the
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desk, lined his erection up with her center and thrust inside of her with one full sweep. “Ahhh!” she cried in exaltation, placing her hands on the desk. He pulled all the way out, only to surge back into her. “Yes, yes! Right there,” she screamed, her head thrown back. As he wrapped her legs around his waist, his hands found her waist. Then he began pounding into her like a mad man. She loved it. He was taking her hard and fast. Lark used her arms to support her body weight and met him thrust for glorious thrust. Her mind was in a haze, while her body was on fire. The tingling sensation started at her toes and then traveled throughout her body, and she clenched him tight and climaxed, her cum juices coating his cock. He shouted as he came inside of her. “Mine! Mine, mine,” he shouted as he jetted into her. The feel of his seed spurred another climax from her.
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“So good!” she cried, falling back onto the desk. Lark immediately felt the loss as Dillon pulled out of her. Peeking up at him through half-closed lids, she noticed that he was stuffing himself back into his pants and zipping them up. She frowned. Why wasn’t he looking at her? Ah, he was still angry. She could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw. “Dillon,” she started. “Not now, Lark,” he said softly, really looking at her for the first time since they’d been in his office. Picking up his shirt and pulling it over his head, he walked over to his office door and looked back at her. “Not now,” he repeated. And he walked out, closing the door softly behind him. He closed the door as if he wanted to slam it but didn’t trust himself to keep control of his anger if he let even a small amount show. Lark lay looking at the empty space where Dillon had stood and stared at the door in
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shock. He had left, had actually left her here like this. She sat up, hands shaking as she fixed her clothes. She would have stood to leave, too, if she had thought she could make it to the door on her shaky legs. Well, she thought wryly, she’d wanted to be fucked and he’d given her exactly what she was looking for. Then why did she suddenly feel so…so… so lonely? Lark did something she hadn’t done in a long time…she covered her face with her hands and cried like a baby.
Chapter Seven Dillon leaned back against his office door, hand on the knob. He’d left Lark alone in his office for fear of saying something to her that he hadn’t wanted to say—he was that angry. The sight of the guy grinding against her ass still had his blood boiling. She was running scared, he knew that. But she’d played a dangerous game tonight. Didn’t she know that he’d hurt anyone who dared to touch her? The only reason the fucker was still alive was because he knew the poor sucker was nothing but a pawn in a game that Lark had seen fit to play in his bar. With him. Sighing deeply, Dillon released the door handle to run his hands down his face. “Shit,” he whispered. “You okay, boss?”
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Dillon glanced over to see Hank standing a few feet away from him with a worried expression marring his brow. “I’m not your boss and you know it. I wanted to kill him, Hank. I literally wanted to kill him,” Dillon murmured. He knew Hank would know who he was talking about. “Well, you didn’t kill him. That’s all that counts. Hell, if I was in your position, I don’t think I’d have been as calm,” Hank said. “You handled the situation well.” “She had no idea what she did tonight,” Dillon said to his friend. “And I took my anger out on her.” Hank’s eyes grew huge with outrage. “Did you…I mean, does she need a doctor? Tell me you didn’t hurt her,” he stormed. It irritated him that Hank had known him so long and still thought he might be capable of… He shook his head, unable to finish the thought. “No, I didn’t hit her. I’ve never hit a woman in my life, and I never will.”
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“That’s a relief. You’re one of my closest friends, but man, I would’ve kicked your ass had you laid a hand on Lark. But if you didn’t hit her…then…I don’t understand. How did you take it out on her then?” Hank asked, scratching his head. Dillon smirked at him, giving Hank an all-knowing look. “Oh,” Hank said, suddenly getting the point. He smiled, but then sobered quickly. “Oh…you didn’t…hurt…her, did you?” He started to protest that he would never do such a thing, but his bravado collapsed under Hank’s calm, concerned gaze. “Not physically. But she’s in there crying her eyes out,” he murmured sadly. “Then you need to get your ass back in there and fix whatever it is you did,” Hank said seriously. Dillon laughed shakily. Leave it to Hank to take his side, and then tell him off in the
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same breath. “Glad to know you got my back, buddy.” “I’m just saying, it’s mean to leave her in there crying. She’s just scared, Dillon. You and I both know that,” Hank said. “Yeah, I know. Listen, go on back to the bar and let me handle this. I’m going to talk to her and take her up to my apartment.” He turned his back on his friend. “You do that. Don’t come back to this place until you have a ring on her finger,” Hank said. Dillon snickered. “You must want to me sell out to you, because that’s what’ll have to happen if I stay away until she lets me put a ring on her finger.” “I trust your powers of persuasion,” Hank called back over his shoulder. Dillon turned the door handle, entered the room, and walked directly over to Lark. Peeling her hands away from her face, he brought her up and into his arms. “Hush, baby,
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it’s okay. I’m sorry. I was just so angry, Lark,” he murmured, rubbing her back. Her tears were wetting the front of his shirt, right where his heart ached for her. Without a doubt, he loved her to distraction. “I’m sorry, Dillon,” she sniffled. Dillon hated seeing her cry. Moreover, he hated being the cause of her tears. Pushing away from her, he took her hand and led her over to a small leather sofa. Once there, he sat down and pulled her onto his lap where he could cuddle her properly. Lark’s head lay against his chest. Her tears had subsided, and she was now making little hiccup sounds. Dillon pushed her hair away from her face and placed a kiss on her forehead. Relief surged through him when she tucked her head under his chin and snuggled closer to him. “I love you, babe. I’m not going anywhere. So get used to it,” he whispered against her brow.
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Lark sighed deeply and nestled closer to him. “Hmm,” she murmured in a sleepy voice. Dillon was content to sit there in his office, holding her in his arms. She felt good snuggled against him. He continued to soothe her
with
whispered
understanding,
not
words
of love
stopping
until
and her
breathing evened out and he realized she’d fallen fast asleep. Chuckling at her soft snore, he adjusted her so that his head lay on the armrest of the sofa and Lark lay on top of him. “Back at you, babe,” he whispered, settling her more firmly against his frame; his hand came to rest on her hip and gave it a gentle squeeze. His cock began to stir behind his zipper. Down boy, he thought. This is not the time. Dillon groaned out loud when Lark moved, positioning her center directly over his hard-on. Damn, she needed to stop moving against him. In an attempt to settle her more comfortably on top of him, he ended up pulling
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her more firmly into his erection. The pleasure of her heated center nestled against his hard cock caused his eyes to roll. A soft knock on the door was the only thing that saved Lark from him flipping her underneath him and having his way with her. “Come in,” he strained out, but then thought better of his command when Lark started gyrating against him. “Never mi—” he started, but it was too late. Dillon was trying to stay her hips, but Lark wasn’t having it, and Hank
was
already
halfway
through
the
doorway. “Uh—Whoa. I think I’ll just come back later. Nothing urgent. Just wanted to let you know that that P.O.S has been taken care of,” he fumbled before backing back out the door and closing it after him. Dillon noted his red, flushed face. No doubt he hadn’t expected to see Lark dry humping him. He would’ve laughed at the shocked look on Hank’s face if he wasn’t lying there with a raging hard-on.
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Lark was determined to have her way, and he was too far gone to stop her. Reaching between them, he straightened his cock in his pants, giving her better access, grabbed hold of her hips, and guided her up and down on his straining cock. She began to moan. Her eyes were still closed; her rhythm picked up to an almost feverish pitch. Then she began to cry out. “Um…umm…ummm,
ahhh,”
she
murmured. “Shit,” Dillon groaned out, his seed wetting his pants and trickling down his thigh. Damn, he hadn’t spilled on himself in a very, very long time. Lark’s soft snore alerted Dillon that she had fallen back to sleep. His chest rumbled, and then he laughed out loud. “You’re hell on a man’s ego, babe,” he said, chuckling again, before scooting out from under her, grabbing some napkins off his desk, and cleaning himself off as best he could. He’d take a shower when
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he got up to his apartment. Walking back to the sofa, he lifted Lark up into his arms. “Wh—What—Where?” she mumbled. “I’m taking you to bed,” he said simply, leaving the office with her in his arms. “’Kay,” she murmured. As soon as he stepped off of the private elevator he made his way to the bedroom. Placing Lark on the bed, he took off her shoes and covered her up. “Thank you,” she whispered sleepily. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he said, walking
into
the
bathroom,
where
he
undressed, and took a shower. *** Lark awoke naked lying halfway across Dillon’s hard chest. Frowning, she sat up quickly,
only
to
be
pulled
back
down
immediately. “Where are you trying to go?” he said huskily.
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“Uh…nowhere…I guess,” she murmured into his chest. “Hmm, I didn’t think so. Besides, we have a lot to talk about.” “Really? Like what?” she asked, trying to pretend she didn’t know. “Like that stunt you pulled last night. Like whatever it is that has you so spooked about commitment. Things like that. I meant what I said last night, Lark. I love you, and I’m here to stay.” Lark sighed heavily, unable to stop a shiver from running through her body. “I’m scared, Dillon.” “Why?” “I don’t know! I mean…what if it doesn’t work out?” she whispered. “And what if it does?” he retorted. “Why would you think a relationship with me wouldn’t work?” “It’s not just you. I don’t think I’m made for relationships. I guess I’m hard to love. Look
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at what happened with me and Brian. Before that it was a long-term boyfriend I had in college. He cheated on me with my roommate and I was none the wiser. Better yet, look at my dad. He left my mom because he couldn’t handle commitment. He cheated on my mom on more than one occasion. So I’ve heard. Besides, I’ve been hurt too many times in the past to give myself over completely to someone else,” she finished quietly. “I prefer not to think about you and Brian or any other man. Anyway, this is about you and me, not you and Brian or you and anybody else. Let me ask you something. Do you trust me?” Lark didn’t have to think about it. She trusted him implicitly. “Yes.” “Good.
Then
trust
that
I’ll
never
intentionally do anything to hurt you. I’ll damn sure never walk out on you or any children we might have in the future. So stop trying to put me in the same category as your birth father
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and all those other losers you’ve been with. You should’ve figured out by now that not all men are like him. Look at your stepdad. Until you told me different, I had no idea he wasn’t your natural
father.
If
you
need
to
compare…compare to a real man like him.” She had never thought of it like Dillon had put it. The truth was, she loved her stepfather more than anything. He was the most honest and loving person she knew. Well, other than Dillon. Dillon was a good man, and in her heart of hearts, she knew he’d never do anything to hurt her—she already knew that she was fast falling in love with him. “All I’m asking is that you give us a fair chance, sweetheart. You can stop running because I’ll be here,” he said. “Okay. I’ll give us a try,” she whispered. Before Lark knew what was happening he had her stretched out fully on top of him. “Thank you,” he said, sinking his fingers in her hair and bringing her mouth down to his
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and kissing her thoroughly. Then he asked playfully, “You want to ride?” He chuckled at the look of confusion that marred her brow. “I don’t have any—” She stopped when he rubbed his cock against her center. “Ride me, babe,” he said, rubbing against her again. “Oh.” She smiled, getting it, lifting up on her knees and reaching down between them to grab hold of his cock. Lining it up with her opening, she then sank down on him. “Oh, my damn!” he screeched, pushing up into her. Planting her hands on his chest, Lark rode him like a well-trained cowgirl. She climaxed twice before he flipped her over and drove into her hard and fast. “Oh, shit, Dillon! Right there! Don’t stop,” she cried. “Never,” he ground out through clenched teeth. Her legs wrapped around his waist, creating deeper penetration.
Lark felt her
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impending climax from the soles of her feet. Yet still she begged. “More, Dillon,” she yelled, using her lower body to strain against his pelvis. “More!” “You got it,” he said, wrapping his hands around her waist to hold her steady. He surged one…two…three times before he heard her cry out her completion. “Yesss!” she yelled. “Fuck, yeah!” he screamed, bathing her womb with his seed. Both of them collapsed on the bed, their breathing heavy. Dillon rolled off of her and onto his side. “Dayum. That was great.” “The best,” she breathed out. “I hope you’re on the pill, babe, ’cause if not, I think we just made about five babies.” He chuckled. Lark looked at him in semi-shock. “You’re an ass, Dillon,” she grunted. They’d forgotten about protection again. She was on the pill to
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regulate her period. Pregnancy was not an issue. “Yeah, but you love me, babe.” He laughed, pulling her into his arms and planting a kiss on top of her head. Lark just continued to stare at him. How did he know? “That’s at least twice we didn’t use a condom, Dillon,” she said, serious now. “Believe it or not, Lark, I’ve never in my life had sex without a condom. I get yearly physicals for the basketball camp I help Hank with, and am free of diseases. You’re the only woman I’ve ever gone bareback with, but If it will make you feel better, I’ll have my doctor send you a sealed copy of my medical records, or I’ll get tested again—whichever you prefer.” Lark gazed into his eyes and was proud that he was her man and she was his woman. “Thank you for that,” she murmured. “I’ll have my medical records sent to you too. I’ve just had a complete physical a few months ago.
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You’re the only one I’ve ever been skin-to-skin with too.” “Good. Now that that’s settled, let’s make love.” He smiled into her eyes. After that there was no more talking for a while.
Epilogue One year later, New Jersey’s North Shore Dillon walked along the beach headed toward his beach house. He’d purchased the house years ago and had only actually stayed there a few times, mostly renting it out to vacationers. This year, he and Lark were vacationing here. As he got closer to the beach house, he could see her standing out on the balcony with a loose-fitting, sheer shirt over her bikini. She somehow got more beautiful by the day…and she was all his. That fateful night at the bar had turned their relationship around for the better. He’d tried to show her in every way he knew how much he loved her. They spent time with both their families, and she seemed to be truly happy.
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She caught sight of him approaching and waved at him before turning to run down the steps to meet him. He caught her up in his arms and swung her around. “Hey, babe.” “Hey, yourself,” she said, kissing him on the lips. “What took you so long?” Dillon laughed. “Babe, I was only gone for a little while.” Lark giggled. “I know, but I missed you,” she said, cupping him through his loose-fitting pants. “And I especially missed this.” “Yeah, we missed you, too,” he groaned. “So what took you so long?” she asked. “Come on, let’s walk along the beach,” he suggested. Her playful mood fell away. “Is something wrong, Dillon?” she asked with a frown. “No. Why do you ask?” “I don’t know. You seem kind of…nervous about something. Are you having second thoughts about…I mean, are you going to leave me?”
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Dillon stopped walking and turned her to face him. “You know I love you, right?” he asked. “Uh…yeah…I guess,” she said hesitantly. “I love you, Lark. And you love me, right?” “Yes, Dillon, I love you very much,” she said quietly. “Good,” he said, releasing a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Then I want to make our relationship official.” She laughed. “Dillon, we are official.” Reaching into his pocket, he took out a black velvet box and opened it. “I want to make us this official, Lark.” Lark caught her breath at the sight of the beautiful
platinum
diamond
ring
nestled
between the folds of black velvet. “Oh, my God! Dillon,” she cried, her hands covering her face as the tears flowed. “Will you marry me, Lark? Be mine for as long as we both shall live?” he asked.
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“Ye—yes…yes, I’ll marry you,” she said, and then started crying harder. Dillon gave a nervous chuckle before taking her hand and placing the ring on her finger. “Babe, if you don’t stop crying you’re going to make me think you don’t really want this,” he teased. “I’m crying because I’m so happy, Dillon. Oh, my God, I’m getting married,” she wept. “We’re getting married, babe. We’re getting married.” “And nobody better try to stop us.” She laughed through her tears. “I love you so much, Dillon.” “Thank God. I love you too. Thanks for giving us a chance, Lark.” “Yes, well, thanks for being patient with me.” “My heart wouldn’t let me do otherwise,” he said, taking her hand and pressing it against his chest so she could feel the slow, steady beat.
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Then he grinned wickedly. “Now, let’s go get started on the honeymoon.” “That’s putting the cart before the horse, isn’t it?” She laughed. “But I can’t say that I don’t like your style. Let’s go.” Picking her up, Dillon raced to the house and into the bedroom, where he laid her down and made slow, passionate love to her.
**SK**
SERENITY KING New author Serenity King has been reading romances ever since she was sixteen years old and her auntie first placed a Harlequin in her hands. Now King writes interracial/multicultural contemporary romance and erotica that feature her fierce devotion to resilient women and strong passion for family-oriented Alpha men who live, love, and fight for their women. She currently lives in the New York area with her husband and children. King loves feedback and welcomes readers to email her at serenity.king088@gmail.com. Blog: http://serenitykingexpressions.blogspot.com/ Web Site: http://www.serenityking.com Yahoo Group Homepage: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Serenity_Kin g Group E-mail: SerenityKing@yahoogroups.com