StrokeofMidnight Read Online Free Page A

encountering
someone he’d seen naked. Or in his parents’ home,” Rowyn drawled.
    Though the image of a tuxedo-clothed cricket bumping uglies
was disturbing, he couldn’t suppress the spurt of humor at her dry wit. It had
been one of the characteristics that had captured his attention and kept him
pinned to that barstool all those months ago. It was also one that had failed
to make an appearance this evening until now. And now, as then, it only
enhanced the natural beauty and allure that even her cool demeanor, restrained
hair and subtle clothing couldn’t hide.
    “No wonder I couldn’t find you,” he said, shifting closer,
trespassing her space. This close, he didn’t miss the glint of irritation that
flickered in her eyes. Oh yeah, this woman would guard her personal territory
and obviously resented his invasion. But she didn’t back up either. He’d known
her straightforward manner was hot…but damn, make that hot as fuck.
    Unable to stop himself, he lifted a hand to her face and
stroked his thumb over the lush bottom lip that fascinated him. He wanted to
bite it, suck the sweet flesh between his teeth. His dick jerked, totally on
board with the idea.
    “Did you know there are fifty-six ‘Rowyns’ in the greater
Seattle area?” he asked softly.
    “You searched for me?”
    Darius ignored her question and the disbelief that coated
it. In one motion, he dropped his hand and retreated away from temptation. Need
seemed to replace the air in his lungs, the blood in his veins. The exotic
almond shape of her heavily lashed eyes, the high, aristocratic cheekbones, the
sinful mouth… He stifled a groan and retreated another step. God should have
made her the eleventh commandment.
    “Why did you leave?” The words seemed to erupt from his lips.
The question had plagued him since that night and couldn’t be contained a
moment longer. Had he demanded too much from her? Had he hurt her in some way?
    The worry had been like an insistent itch at the back of his
neck that he couldn’t ease. His memories were of a hot night filled with the
most incredible sex with an equally incredible woman. As he’d fallen asleep,
waking up to that same woman and learning more about her had been his last
coherent thought.
    Instead he’d woken to an empty bed and an emptier hole in
his gut, as if he’d been offered the opportunity to partake of a sumptuous
feast and had arrived too late.
    Rowyn blinked then cocked her head, her expression as bland
as her tone. “To stay two nights would have been a bit counterproductive to the
purpose of a one-night stand.”
    He arched an eyebrow. Since he was fourteen, women had
cozied up to him, flirted—as much for his appearance as well as his father’s
money.
    None had wham-bam-thank-you-ma’amed him.
    “You know,” he drawled and reclaimed the distance he’d
placed between them, “if I hadn’t seen you mid-orgasm, I might buy this
freeze-ice-cubes-on-your-ass routine.” He touched her again. This time right
where her stomach and pelvic region merged. He dropped his gaze. If she were
naked, he’d probably graze the top of that neatly trimmed nest of black hair
covering her pussy. He heard the loud intake of breath and her abdominal
muscles clenched, going concave beneath his fingers. “Now that sound I clearly
remember. Every time I pushed my cock into your tight pussy you’d suck in a
breath and hold it.”
    He sketched a small circle over her dress, applying enough
pressure her soft flesh gave beneath his fingers. “Remember the first time I
fucked you? God, it took forever for your pussy to loosen around my dick. I had
to move so slow. It was torture feeling those muscles quiver around me.
I almost lost it before I was fully inside. You were so wet, so small.”
    He groaned and widened the circle, coming perilously close
to the top of her sex. The rasp of air from Rowyn’s lungs confirmed his
assumption—heat burned beneath the ice queen facade. “But the second time