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Captivated: Letting Go / Seize the Night
Megan Hart
Tiffany Reisz
Double the passion – and seduction – as New York Times bestselling author Megan Hart and international bestselling author Tiffany Reisz weave two provocative tales about power, bad-boy lovers and secret desires!LETTING GO by Megan HartColleen goes to the same bar every night and orders the same drink: a whiskey, neat. She doesn't drink it, though. Jesse the bartender notices the beautiful, sad woman who keeps to herself. Until one night when she lets go and lets him in.And after that, Jesse has only one mission – to show her one night is only the beginning…SEIZE THE NIGHT by Tiffany ReiszFive years ago, a night of forbidden passion between Remi and Julien, the heirs of two powerful and competitive horse-racing families, led to a feud that is threatening to ruin both farms.Now Remi must find Julien again – but when she does, her need for Julien is just as strong and just as forbidden…


Double the passion—and seduction—as New York Times bestselling author Megan Hart and international bestselling author Tiffany Reisz weave two provocative tales about power, bad-boy lovers and secret desires!
LETTING GO by Megan Hart — Colleen goes to the same bar every night and orders the same drink: a whiskey, neat. She doesn’t drink it, though. Jesse the bartender notices the beautiful, sad woman who keeps to herself. Until one night when she lets go and lets him in. And after that, Jesse has only one mission—to show her one night is only the beginning…
SEIZE THE NIGHT by Tiffany Reisz — Five years ago, a night of forbidden passion between Remi and Julien, the heirs of two powerful and competitive horse-racing families, led to a feud that is threatening to ruin both farms. Now Remi must find Julien again—but when she does, her need for Julien is just as strong and just as forbidden…


Contemporary, sexy stories for sassy women
Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon
www.millsandboon.co.uk/Cosmo (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/Cosmo)
Captivated
NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author
Megan Hart

INTERNATIONAL bestselling author
Tiffany Reisz

Contemporary, sexy stories for sassy women
Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon
www.millsandboon.co.uk/Cosmo (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/Cosmo)
CONTENTS
Letting Go (#u96a753d2-7b5d-50d5-808f-6eb2965add18)
Megan Hart
Seize the Night (#litres_trial_promo)
Tiffany Reisz
Dedication
Dedicated to Shannon Barr and Ann Leslie Tuttle,
who keep me on track no matter how many times my emails go missing!
About the Author
Megan Hart is an award-winning and multipublished author of more than thirty novels, novellas and short stories. Her work has been published in almost every genre, including contemporary women’s fiction, historical romance, romantic suspense and erotica. Megan lives in the deep, dark woods of Pennsylvania with her husband and children and is currently working on her next novel for Harlequin MIRA. You can contact Megan through her website at www.meganhart.com (http://www.meganhart.com).
Also by Megan Hart
Cosmopolitan Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon
Crossing the Line (ebook)
Dear Reader,
Let go!
That’s something the heroine of my new Cosmopolitan Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon story has a lot of trouble doing. At least she thinks so. The truth is that Colleen is a woman made to let go, give in to passion, set herself free to explore…even if she’s convinced she’s not capable of it!
Jesse, on the other hand, believes Colleen is more than capable of letting go. After getting to know her over several months of her regular Thursday-night visits to the bar where he works, he’s developed a heavy-duty crush on this enigmatic woman who orders the same drink every week but never drinks it. It’s not until a snowy night and a slow dance that the sparks ignite between them.
It’s not easy, of course, but Colleen and Jesse manage to discover a mutual passion for the exchange of power and control. The rocky road to a relationship is set against the backdrop of one of my new favorite places, the Fell’s Point neighborhood in Baltimore!
I hope you enjoy reading about Colleen and Jesse. And if the story gives you a craving for some good old-fashioned greasy diner food, well…what can I say? Breakfast is my favorite meal!
Thanks for reading,
M
Letting Go
Megan Hart
Contents
Chapter One (#ue10e0842-c7d4-5bc7-bb47-4ab2d56f459b)
Chapter Two (#ud70f0fc4-fcfd-5929-9f97-e00372f566c8)
Chapter Three (#uebf28074-d985-5011-a2e6-b63f1dfbe61e)
Chapter Four (#ubc130231-74c0-5169-8d61-bd395a56df1e)
Chapter Five (#u123df0ab-e0ac-5b07-b1c4-1cef22d93302)
Chapter Six (#ub23d7b28-a8e6-565b-99f9-2431814d695b)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
“The usual?” The Thursday night bartender grinned at Colleen. He’d already filled her glass three-quarters with amber liquid and pushed it across the polished wooden bar toward her. He added a separate glass of seltzer water with a twist of lime, just the way she liked it.
Jesse, she thought as she brushed the dampness from her shoulders where the snow had melted. That was his name. “Thanks, Jesse.”
Jesse’s eyes narrowed for a moment. He looked her over and, coming to some sort of conclusion, said, “How about an order of onion rings?”
“I... Yes. Sure.” Colleen bit back her initial protest, imagining how good something greasy and fattening would taste. It was exactly what she needed right now, but wouldn’t have thought of ordering until he suggested it. “That would be great.”
“You got it.” Jesse rapped the top of the bar with his knuckles in a staccato pattern, then turned to take another order.
He’d leave her alone. And alone was what Colleen wanted to be. So a few minutes later when a man in a business suit slid onto the stool beside her, she just stared at him when he delivered his pickup line.
The man stared back, rakish grin fading. “I said—”
“I heard you,” she interrupted. “But I already have a drink.”
The businessman tugged at his tie. “So it’s like that, huh?”
“It’s not like anything,” Colleen said quietly.
“Hey, I’m just trying to be nice.”
Colleen half turned away. “So then be nice.”
When he put his hand on her elbow, his fingers pinching just a little too hard, she shoved it away. The businessman looked surprised. Then pissed. He put both hands up and backed off, but not before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “Crazy bitch.”
“Is there a problem?” Jesse balanced a platter of onion rings on his palm before setting it in front of her. “Hey, buddy. You got a problem?”
“No. Not at all.” The businessman took his drink and slid down to the other end of the bar where an attractive brunette and her prettier friend were laughing as they took a cell phone selfie.
Colleen pushed her whiskey glass to the side to make room for the food. The liquor sloshed, splashing her a little. She used a napkin to wipe her fingers and looked up to see Jesse staring at her.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Jesse didn’t leave, though there were people waiting to be served. He studied her in silence for a few seconds longer than seemed necessary. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Nope.” Colleen gave him a small smile as she lifted an onion ring toward him. “This should do it.”
“Did he bother you?”
Surprised, she lowered the onion ring without biting it. “I can handle myself. It’s okay.”
At the sound of raucous laughter, Jesse looked down the bar. The businessman was now taking a picture with the two girls. Jesse looked back at Colleen with a frown. “I know you can. I’ve seen you. I just wanted to be sure.”
“You’ve seen me, huh?” She sipped some seltzer and dipped a ring into the horseradish sauce, but didn’t bite.
“You come in here every Thursday night,” Jesse pointed out. “I’m not saying we get a bunch of jackasses in here or anything, but there are some nights it feels like I’m Pinocchio on Pleasure Island.”
Colleen laughed. The giggle slipped out of her, unbidden and certainly unexpected. It turned the head of the businessman at the end of the bar, who glared at both of them before turning back to his new friends. Colleen didn’t let it get under her skin. She’d dealt with much worse.
“Bonus points for that reference,” she said to Jesse.
“Been watching a lot of Disney movies, what can I say?” Jesse shrugged, leaned on the bar and grinned. Over his shoulder, he said to John, the other bartender, “Can you take care of that guy over there? Yeah, the one giving me the death stare.”
John nodded and moved to handle the other customer. Colleen bit into her onion ring and gave Jesse the side-eye. It didn’t seem to bother him, and his widening grin didn’t seem to bother her.
“You’re too old for Disney movies,” Colleen said.
“Never too old for Disney.”
“Too young for Pinocchio, then. You’re more the Hercules and Aladdin era, aren’t you?”
“I have all the classics,” Jesse said. “My kid loves them.”
She couldn’t conceal her surprise. Jesse had been working on Thursdays for at least six months, but this was the first time she’d heard him mention a child. Of course, there’d never been reason for her to ask him if he had kids. Or anything else about him, really. They’d never had more than the most casual conversations, which had never seemed rude until just now.
Jesse laughed at her expression. She blushed, the flush creeping up her throat and all over her face, impossible to hide. Rosy cheeks always gave away her emotions.
“I...I didn’t know. I mean, I...I didn’t think,” she stammered.
Jesse pushed upward with his hands, straightened and knocked on the bar again, rat-a-tat tat like a drumbeat. “Her name’s Laila, and she’s eleven. She claims she’s getting a little too old for Disney movies, but I’ve convinced her that her old man needs an excuse to keep watching them.”
“You don’t look old enough to have an eleven-year-old,” Colleen said. He couldn’t be more than what, twenty-three? Maybe twenty-four, tops. A decade younger than her, at least.
Jesse stepped out of the way so John could get to some of the bottles on the top shelf behind him. He gave John a nod to acknowledge that it was time for him to get back to work. Still, Jesse took the time to give Colleen another slow smile that she supposed melted the panties off lots of ladies. She countered with another dip of onion ring.
“I’ll be forty,” he told her.
“What? Wait. No way!” she called after him. Patrons’ heads turned for the second time that night.
“Eventually, if I’m lucky!” Jesse said over his shoulder and started taking orders at the bar’s far end.
Colleen shook her head and caught John’s eye. “Guess he showed me.”
John, who’d been working at The Fallen Angel for as long as Colleen had been coming there, and probably for almost as long as the bar had been open, rolled his eyes. “He’s a smart-ass and he’s twenty-eight. You need something, hon? Another drink?”
“Another seltzer when you get a chance.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and emptied her glass to wash away the burn of horseradish.
John took the glass and filled it, then nodded at the untouched whiskey. “Freshen that for you?”
“No, thanks.”
“Just let me know if you need something, hon.” With that, John moved off to attend to another customer.
There was a reason why Colleen came to this place every week instead of visiting different bars. Or simply staying home, which was really where she wanted to be. She came to The Fallen Angel because they knew her here. Nobody ever made her feel as though she had to “pay rent” by buying more than her single drink. And they left her alone, mostly.
Except for Jesse.
He wasn’t a bother. The opposite, as a matter of fact. He was...attentive wasn’t quite the word Colleen was thinking of, though he was. It was more than that. He was considerate. Accommodating. Solicitous. As with the onion rings, he seemed to know what she wanted before she’d thought of it. Unlike John, Jesse didn’t bother to ask her if she wanted her whiskey refreshed, though he filled her glass of seltzer once more without waiting to be told. The attention was just enough, and not too much.
At the end of the night, right before she pulled out her wallet to pay her check, he brought her a small dessert cup of chocolate mousse topped with a swirl of heavy whipped cream.
“On the house,” Jesse said before she could protest. “Eat it. Trust me, you’ll like it.”
It was the second time that night he’d made an assumption about what she’d like. It wasn’t a question of whether she would like it. It was that he seemed so sure of what she wanted that it became difficult for Colleen herself to be sure. She pushed the mousse away with her fingertips the way she’d earlier pushed the glass of whiskey.
“No, thanks.” She handed him a twenty. “Keep the change.”
Jesse caught up to her at the doorway. He came around the bar and tugged her by the sleeve. She yanked her arm free of his grip, which wasn’t tight or hurtful yet still forced her heart to thump-thump-thump and her throat to close.
“Sorry,” Jesse said. Colleen didn’t say a word. He let go of her immediately and took a step back. “I just wanted to say...I’m sorry. I thought you’d like the dessert. I mean, who doesn’t like chocolate? Unless...you’re not allergic are you? Shit. I’m sorry, Colleen. I didn’t think about that.”
She could’ve been out the door already, into the dark street and heading for home. She cast a wary glance around the bar, but it was getting late, and on a Thursday the crowd was thinner than it would be on the weekend. Nobody was paying attention to them. Even the businessman had long gone.
“I’m not allergic.”
“Oh. Okay.” He smiled, gaze holding hers. “You don’t like chocolate?”
“I like chocolate a lot. Who doesn’t?” Colleen drew in a small breath to keep her voice steady. “I just don’t like it when someone thinks he knows better than I do about what I want.”
It was the wrong thing to say, or maybe the right one, because at her words, Jesse’s gaze shuttered at once. His mouth thinned. He took another step back.
So did she.
Then she pushed through the door and out into the cold winter night.
* * *
“Don’t tell your mom. She’ll kill me for letting you eat that for breakfast.” Jesse pointed at the small cup of chocolate mousse he’d brought home from work last night. Hey, he’d paid for it. He wasn’t going to toss it in the trash just because his friendly gesture had been thrown back in his face, as if he’d been some kind of dick instead of a guy trying to be nice.
Laila rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
“Hey, kid, I thought we had an agreement. You don’t tell your mom when I let you stay up too late or eat crap for breakfast, and you don’t bring me any of that vegetarian business she tries to send over this way.” Jesse scrubbed at his face, bleary-eyed. The coffee couldn’t brew fast enough. Six-thirty in the morning was too damned early when he’d only gone to bed at four.
Laila kicked her feet against the rungs of her stool and licked chocolate from her spoon. “Mom says next year I can stay home by myself until it’s time for school.”
Jesse, who’d decided he couldn’t wait for the rest of the pot to fill and had begun to pour coffee into his mug, looked up. The coffeemaker hissed and spit on the hot plate until he put the carafe back. “What? Are you kidding?”
“I’ll be twelve, Dad.” The weight of tween scorn should’ve burned him worse, but Laila added such a sweet smile that Jesse was only a tiny bit stung.
“Twelve’s old enough to stay home alone?”
“Mom says if I prove to her I can get up on my own with the alarm and not need her to wake me up, sure. I got up on my own today,” Laila said proudly.
It would make his mornings a lot less groggy, that was for sure. But it would also mean a lot less time with his daughter. Jesse frowned. “So...she’s going to stop dropping you off on the way to work?”
“Dad,” Laila said, exasperated. “Pay attention! Yes, that’s what I mean!”
“But not until next year.”
“Yeah, when I’m in sixth grade.” Laila finished the last of the mousse and dumped the container in the garbage, then rinsed the spoon before putting it in the dishwasher. That was a trick her mother had taught her, that was for sure.
“Let’s worry about it when you’re in the sixth grade, then, okay?” Jesse yawned and finished pouring his coffee.
He added sugar and cream from the fridge, peering inside with an internal sigh. Empty. He needed to get to the store in the worst way, something he could easily do after dropping Laila at school, if he could stay awake long enough.
“Can I watch The Little Mermaid again?”
Jesse put the cream back in the fridge and yawned again until his jaw popped. Plopping his kid in front of cartoons was definitely a no-no according to her mother, who didn’t even have cable television or the internet at home. But it would buy him another hour of sleep and a shower before they had to leave for school.
“Dad?”
“Yeah. Sure. Go ahead.” Too much planning to do on less than three hours of sleep. He could mainline this coffee and it still wouldn’t wake him up enough.
He ended up snoozing on the couch while Laila watched the movie, waking only in time to get her out the door. No shower first, so he pulled a knit cap over the mess of his hair and headed out into the world looking like, as his kid said, a hobo.
The drive to school was both eternal and too short. It took forever because he was tired and wanted to get back home so he could slide back into bed and get a few hours’ sleep before he had to get up again. But it was not long enough, because it was time with his daughter, who filled it with stories about school and her friends and her thoughts on life. Always entertaining, usually surprising.
“And that,” she told him as she opened the car door, “is why me and her aren’t friends anymore.”
“She and I,” Jesse corrected automatically. He hadn’t really followed the story of Laila and her no-longer-best friend Maddy, but understood enough to realize that whatever had gone down had been the fifth-grade equivalent of World War III. “And listen, she’s your friend. Can’t you work it out?”
Laila gave him a heavy sigh and paused, the backpack he couldn’t believe she was strong enough to carry still on her lap. “Dad, you don’t get it. She took my favorite pen! And lied about it!”
It was the lie that had made the crime unforgivable. He could see that. Still... “People make mistakes, kiddo.”
“If she lies about a pen, what else would she lie to me about?”
She was too smart for him, the best of both her parents multiplied by ten. “True. But that doesn’t mean you can’t forgive her.”
“I can forgive her,” Laila said darkly, her brow furrowed. “That doesn’t mean she can still be my friend.”
With that, she got out of the car. Ignoring the impatient moms in minivans behind him who barely stopped to let their kids roll out before they sped off to Pilates or hot yoga or whatever the hell they were in such a rush to get to, Jesse watched her until she got through the school doors. Then he gave each of the scowling minivan moms a cheery salute, using all his fingers when he really wanted to use only one.
He still needed food. An egg sandwich and another tall coffee tried to woo him into the local 7-Eleven, but he reminded himself of his credit card bill, due next week, and the upcoming tuition bill for Laila, due sometime next month. The rattle under his car’s dashboard helped remind him, too, that his baby had just over a hundred thousand miles on her, and she had to last him another year or so before he could think about replacing her.
It was going to get better, he reminded himself. Private school for his kid was important to her future, and sacrificing for her was worth it. At home, a few more hours of sleep and a shower put some lightness into the day. So did the dogs in the shelter where he volunteered. Playing with them never failed to brighten his outlook. His time there finished, Jesse headed back to his car, pausing to look at the gray sky. It looked like snow. Smelled like it, too. He was looking forward to a good winter storm. Which meant he definitely had to get something in his fridge.
He didn’t usually shop at this market, but this place was conveniently close to the Angel. Armed with his reusable bags from the trunk, the list he kept updated on his phone and the small accordion file of coupons he collected from the bar’s Sunday paper every week, Jesse grabbed a cart and hit the aisles.
And there she was.
The woman from the bar. Colleen, last name unknown. Today, as usual, her pale hair was pulled back at the base of her neck in a sleek bun. She wore a tailored black wool coat that came to her knees, a hint of crimson liner at the throat and sleeves, and below it a pair of black-stockinged legs and librarian pumps with a strap across the top of her foot that, no kidding, left his throat a little dry. She carried a paper cup of coffee in one hand and pushed her cart, one of the little ones, with the other.
She wasn’t watching where she was going. It was easy enough for him to let his cart bump hers, gently enough not to even slop her coffee. It was easy, but stupid, Jesse thought at the last second as she turned, frowning. Now he’d pissed her off.
Again.
“Sorry,” she said, though it was clear she knew it was his fault. “Oh. It’s you.”
“It’s me. Jesse,” he added.
“I know your name. You work at The Fallen Angel.” She inched her cart, containing a carton of eggs and a loaf of rye bread, away from his.
“And you’re Colleen.”
“Yes.” She could’ve pulled her cart away and stalked off down the aisle without looking at him again, but instead she cleared her throat. “So...you shop here?”
Jesse looked at his own cart, empty at the moment. “Nah. I just come in, push a cart around for exercise. Beats the gym fees.”
It had been a gamble, just as bumping her cart had been, but this time she laughed. Her face lit up. A man could fall in love with a woman who laughed like that.
“That was a stupid question. Sorry.” Colleen sipped her coffee, her large gray eyes meeting his over the rim of the cup without sliding away.
Those eyes. Shit. He was a goner.
For weeks he’d been getting to know her little by little. At first she was only another customer, but over time he’d begun to notice the things about her that stood out. The quiet way she sat by herself, never engaging anyone in more than the barest of conversations. Sometimes she read a book. Sometimes she toyed with her phone while she ate some pub food, usually onion rings but sometimes fries. Once or twice, she ordered a basket of fish and chips.
The glass of whiskey she ordered every week without fail, but never drank.
But although they’d had their share of casual interactions, had she ever looked at him until right now? Really looked, as if she actually saw him? She had, fleetingly, last night, and it was obvious she hadn’t cared much for what she’d seen. Now she was looking at him again, her gray gaze pinning him, and he found himself struggling a little for words.
“My father used to say there are no stupid questions,” she continued as though there hadn’t been a minute of painfully awkward silence between them. “Just stupid people.”
“I was being a jerk. Trying to be funny. I’m an idiot.”
She laughed again, not as loud, but the sound was as lovely the second time as it had been the first. That laugh dug into him, between his ribs. Into the tender places beneath.
“I need to get going. I’ll be late for work.” She lifted her coffee cup his way in something like a salute. “See you...?”
“Next Thursday,” Jesse said, and found himself wishing it were tomorrow instead of next week.
Chapter Two
Colleen pressed her fingers deep into the sore spot just below her ear. An old injury flared up whenever she got tense, which had been happening a lot recently. Of late, circumstances had required her have more to do with Steve than usual. No matter how she tried to never let her ex-husband get under her skin, he was still an expert at it. Probably always would be.
As if Mondays weren’t hard enough, this morning it had been a series of texts about repairs that needed to be done on the house they still shared in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. When their marriage ended, she’d been desperate enough to walk away with next to nothing just to be rid of him. If she’d been able to afford to buy him out, she’d have done it. But the only other option had been letting the place go altogether, and she didn’t want to give up the ocean. Not even to be entirely rid of Steve.
Still, although they’d kept the condo and shared responsibilities for it, somehow it had become Colleen’s job to oversee them and Steve’s to criticize. Not that she was surprised. Despite Steve’s constant protests to the contrary, it had been that way throughout their marriage.
She didn’t have time for him today. Work was kicking her ass. It was her job to keep everything running smoothly and act as a liaison between the small mom-and-pop operation being consumed by the company she worked for, QuidProQuotient. Usually Colleen enjoyed working with smaller companies, helping them to make the transitions. Despite how ravenous QPQ had become over the past few years, Colleen believed in the company’s mission statement.
Enfold, embrace and embark on new adventures.
There wasn’t much embracing going on right now. Matt Lolly, the former owner and president of Lolly and Pop Computers, had agreed to sell his family business more than six months ago, but had not yet let go of the reins.
She thought about the conversation they’d had earlier that day since Mr. Lolly was...malingering. “I understand,” Colleen murmured, keeping her voice and expression neutral. “But believe me, Mr. Lolly, you are going to be leaving your grandchildren a legacy. Perhaps not the actual shop itself, but with the money you’ll be able to put aside for them...”
“I started that shop with my own dad, and then worked in it with my sons.” Mr. Lolly gave her a fierce look. “Money can’t replace any of that.”
Since he’d sold the company because both his sons had gone to find other jobs, and none of the grandchildren seemed interested in taking it over, his rationale wasn’t quite on point. But Colleen knew what he meant. She’d spent a lot of hours with her own dad in his workshop. Money could never buy back those hours.
“Mr. Lolly, I understand your reluctance.”
He gave her a stern stare. “I don’t think you really do. You’re going to buy my shop and turn it into some kind of fast-food restaurant type of place. My customers expect a certain level of service—”
“Your customers,” Colleen interjected, “are all buying their computers online or down at the Apple store, and taking them there to be fixed.”
Silence.
Mr. Lolly cleared his throat. Colleen expected to feel bad about the way she’d snapped, but the fact was, she’d been working with this guy for months, and he was still fighting her every inch of the way. She understood his reasons. She’d done her share of not letting go of things that no longer served her. But she no longer cared.
“You’ve signed a contract,” she told him. “You’ve been paid all but the final amount. Mr. Lolly, it’s time you signed off on the rest of the agreement. Okay? I have a check right here for the final payment. You could go on a nice, long vacation. Or put this money into a retirement fund. Or send your grandkids to college. But if you don’t sign, I’m going to have to declare this agreement void, and you’ll have to pay us back what you’ve already accepted.”
He looked startled at that. “But I’ve—”
“Sign off,” she told him gently and handed him a pen. All QPQ needed was his final signature releasing QPQ to take over the daily operations, including the hiring and firing of the current employees.
“You said they’d keep their jobs,” he said finally. “It’s just the two of them.”
“Or that they’d get a nice severance. And they will.” Her company actually had no desire to keep Lolly and Pop Computers in business. She’d been instructed to buy out the company for its inventory and real estate, a prime location on the main street of a small town. What QPQ’s owner decided to do with all of that, Colleen didn’t know. Also didn’t care.
Mr. Lolly sighed. Then sighed again. He hung his head, but if he thought puppy eyes were going to gain him any sympathy from her... Colleen put on a smile. She pushed the pen across the desk to him.
“Please sign, Mr. Lolly.”
He did, but with a resentful look she took as an affront, even though she didn’t react to it. At the doorway, the check still clutched in his hand, he turned to her. “It just seems like a very cold way to do business, that’s all.”
He didn’t give her time to respond, and even if he had, what might she have said? Colleen wasn’t the one who’d pursued the sale or even closed the deal. It was her job to see difficult acquisitions through to the end, that was all. And she was good at it. Over the years, she’d sold her soul to the devil for the ability to support herself.
With the plunging temperatures outside and bad weather in the forecast, all she really wanted to do tonight was put the day behind her, take a hot bath, get into a bed made up with fresh sheets and go to sleep. Her sleep last night had been interrupted again by bad dreams about losing her dad. About waking up in bed next to Steve, their divorce being the dream instead.
But it was Thursday, she reminded herself as she poured another cup of coffee from the office communal pot. Thursday meant The Fallen Angel and her ritual.
“Colleen.” It was Mark, looking dapper as usual in a three-piece suit complete with pocket watch. “You took care of Lolly?”
She nodded. “Yes. He signed, took the check. I passed everything along to Jonas.”
Jonas would take care of the final settlement with the Lolly and Pop Computers employees.
Mark grinned and poured himself a cup of coffee. Then he made a face.
“This is swill!”
Colleen laughed. “Um, well, yes. I tried to tell you not to buy the coffee service company. You didn’t listen.”
“I can be a fool.” Mark pulled a sad face so exaggerated that she laughed again.
He narrowed his eyes, looking her over, up and down. “Turn around.”
“No...”
“Colleen, turn around.”
“I’m going to sue you for sexual harassment,” she muttered, but did a slow twirl.
Mark huffed. “Go ahead. That skirt doesn’t suit you at all. Why do you insist on covering up your legs? They’re gorgeous. And those shoes, my God. A nun would think they’re dowdy.”
“I like these shoes.” Colleen looked down at her outfit. She had a few pairs of heels she wore to the office, but today, with the bad weather alert, she’d gone with a serviceable pair of loafers paired with thick tights and a long wool skirt. “Anyway, this is warm.”
“But it’s so not hot.” Mark shook his head. “I should fire you.”
She looked up, startled, to see if he was joking. “You wouldn’t!”
“I like pretty things. This makes me sad.” He waved a hand at her ensemble with a serious look.
She wouldn’t put it past him to fire her for her fashion faux pas. He was just unstable—and rich—enough not to care if there were repercussions. Colleen lifted her chin. “Too bad. I’m not here to look good. I’m here to do my job.”
She paused. Both of them stared each other down.
“Besides,” she added, “you act like I come in here every day looking frowsy. And that, I know for a fact, is not true.”
Mark smiled and tipped his head back in laughter loud enough to make Jonas and Patty both peek over their cubicles to see what was going on. He spilled some coffee on the floor in his delight, which made him put his mug on the counter. He pointed at the coffee station.
“Get someone to take care of this. This is disgusting. And you,” he said to Colleen, “leave early today. Get that abomination out of my office before it makes me puke.”
“I have work to finish,” she said mildly, but Mark cut her off with a furious hand gesture and a scowl.
“Out!” He said. “As a matter of fact, everyone, out! Go home early today. It’s going to be wretched out later. And take tomorrow off, too. I don’t want to see any of you until Monday.”
“We’ll still get paid, right?” Patty popped her head up again. She was already pulling on her coat.
“Maybe.” Mark had turned, heading for his office.
Jonas coughed. “You have to, Mark. It’s in our contracts. We get paid when you close the office.”
“Fine, fine, fine.” Mark didn’t look over his shoulder, just disappeared into his office and closed the door.
Jonas, Patty and Colleen shared a look. Of the three of them, Colleen had known Mark the longest. Her relationship with him was the most complicated because of their history, but that didn’t mean she liked him any better than anyone else did. Colleen was grateful to Mark. She always would be. But he wasn’t easy to deal with on any level.
“He’s such a pain in the ass,” Jonas said, clearly agitated.
Mark’s office door opened. “I heard that. I should fire you.”
Jonas slowly, slowly, slowly raised his middle finger. Patty let out a muffled giggle. Mark slammed the door.
“He can’t fire me, ever,” Jonas said. “I added it to my contract, and he signed it, that crazy jackoff.”
It was not the best of office environments, but then it was also never boring.
Back in her office, Colleen quickly checked her appointment calendar, made a few calls to rearrange some things due to the “weather-related office closing” and shut down her computer. Getting out of work unexpectedly early was the equivalent of a snow day in elementary school, and she intended to make the most of it.
She’d been to the market earlier in the week, but made another trip now to stock up on milk, bread, eggs, toilet paper and chocolate, the staples for any snow day. She added some tortilla chips and salsa, a few gossip magazines and, on impulse, a bottle of bath oil some clever stock person had featured near the romance novels and a display of funky battery-lit candles with lights that flickered. She bought some of those, too.
It was lucky Mark had let them go early, because by the time she’d finished her shopping, the store had been nearly emptied of the same kinds of things she was buying. Two women almost got in a fistfight over toilet paper. And outside, the first white, fluffy flakes had begun falling.
In the ten-minute drive back to her apartment, the snow had become thick enough to make it hard for her to see, even with the windshield wipers going nonstop. Colleen pulled into her parking spot, not looking forward to having to dig herself out and do the parking-space shuffle. Last year, two of her neighbors had nearly come to blows over a space. Life in the city, she thought, remembering the heated driveway and three-car garage she’d given up when she left Steve.
Even if she had to shovel herself out from under three feet of snow and defend her spot in hand-to-hand combat, it was worth it.
The snow had made darkness fall even earlier than usual for January, and by three-thirty Colleen had turned on all the lights in her living room. She’d started a Crock-Pot of chili simmering for tomorrow, with some baked mac ‘n’ cheese for tonight’s dinner. Comfort food, perfect for winter weather. She’d put on some soft music and pulled out a book to read, wondering if it was too early to get in the bath. If she waited a while longer, she could go to sleep right after. She could watch a movie in bed. She could stay up late playing games on her phone. She could eat whatever she wanted, sleep however she wanted, wear whatever she wanted.
Do whatever she wanted.
And as always, even four years later, this freedom sent her spinning in dizzy, delightful circles in her living room until everything slipped sideways and she had to sit down, hard, to keep herself from falling.
Colleen clapped her hands to her face to hold back the laughing sobs that tore at her throat and made her stomach sick. Nothing came without a price, especially freedom. She could do what she wanted because she’d sacrificed a lot to have it.
It was still Thursday, but the weather outside made anything but an emergency too much to deal with. And it wasn’t an emergency, was it? To sit at the bar and order that drink the way she did every week? Nothing bad would happen if she didn’t do it. And maybe, Colleen told herself, it was time to stop going at all.
And then her phone rang.
Chapter Three
“When I was a kid, you had to listen to the radio station at five in the morning to figure out if school was canceled.” Jesse held his phone up to John’s bored face. “Now they text you the night before. So, hey, at least I don’t have to get up early.”
John tossed a towel over one shoulder and leaned over the bar to look out the front windows as best he could. “We should close early. Nobody’s gonna come out in this mess, and anyone who’s here should be getting home, anyway. Hell, I want to get home. It’s nasty out there.”
All the storm watch warnings had been right on target for once. The flurries had started that afternoon and grew increasingly heavier as the day passed. The weather forecast was calling for six to eight inches of snow by 2:00 a.m., which was normally when Jesse was closing up and heading home. But John was right—the weather was bad enough that if they could shuffle out the three people gathered around the table in the front, it would make sense to close up early.
As it turned out, the trio was finishing their drinks and signaling for the check even as John started running the register receipts and getting the few glasses that had come out of the kitchen back on the shelf. He told the small kitchen staff to pack up and head out, then turned to Jesse.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Just as Jesse was getting ready to agree, the bell over the door jingled, and in she came. Colleen, the Thursday night special with the sad eyes and love of onion rings. He’d been certain she wasn’t coming tonight and telling himself that he didn’t care. But here she was, stamping her feet and brushing the snow off the shoulders of her heavy black coat. White flakes covered her light blond hair. In the few seconds before they melted, they looked like a circlet of flowers.
“We’re—” John started.
“I got her,” Jesse said, already pouring the glass of whiskey, neat, and sliding it into the spot she always took.
“You’ll close up?” John asked.
Jesse barely gave him a glance. “Yeah. I’ll take care of it. Lock up the back, okay?”
“Got it.” John clapped him on the shoulder, gave Colleen a nod as he passed, and then...
They were alone in the bar.
“Nice night.” Jesse twisted a wedge of lime into the glass of seltzer and put that in front of her, too. He’d meant it as a joke, but Colleen gave him a blank stare. No smile.
“Yeah, it’s great. Thanks.” She pulled the glass of seltzer closer, but didn’t take a drink. She looked at the whiskey, and her mouth twisted.
Something was wrong. She was always quiet, but polite, and though he’d seen her give more than one hopeful douche bag the cold shoulder, she’d always been nice to Jesse. Well, until last week, when he’d somehow pissed her off. He hadn’t meant to, had felt terrible about it. She’d seemed okay to him in the market, though. It didn’t seem like she was holding a grudge. No, something else had closed off her face like a mask.
She’d been crying.
It didn’t take a genius to see the faint streaks of mascara smudged under those beautiful gray eyes or the shadows beneath them. Those sad eyes. He’d always been a sucker for the girls who cried.
“Can I get you something else?” he asked carefully, too aware of how last Thursday he’d pushed the onion rings and mousse on her, thinking he knew what she wanted when he obviously didn’t. “The kitchen’s closed, but I can do a few things back there. If you want.”
“Closed?” She blinked slowly. Understanding dawned. She flinched, looking around. “Oh. Shit. Oh, yeah, you’re closed? I didn’t think about it, the weather. It’s so bad. I’ll just go. I’ll go now.”
But she didn’t go. She sat motionless, frozen, one hand on the seltzer glass and the other on the edge of her stool, as though she needed to push herself off it to get moving. A rivulet of icy water trickled from the melting snow in her hair, down her temple and over her cheek like a tear.
She looked at him then, though it was clear she didn’t really see him. She shook her head, that gorgeous hair falling over her shoulders and half covering her face. It was the first time he’d seen it worn down, and he wanted to fist his hands in it. Tip her head back. Find her mouth with his.
Jesse had known he had a crush on her, but this was getting out of hand.
“I should go,” she said again. And then, incredibly, she did something she’d never done before in all the months he’d been working Thursday nights. She picked up the glass of whiskey, and she drank it. She wiped her mouth with slightly shaking fingers. “I should go.”
“No,” Jesse told her. “Stay.”
* * *
Uptight, controlling bitch.
The words echoed in Colleen’s head, over and over. Steve’s words. She’d heard them a thousand times before and had convinced herself they no longer stung. That he could no longer control her, no longer hurt her. Somehow, that self-delusion had made it worse.
You can’t make it without me, can’t make a decision, can’t take care of anything, without me. I have to do it all for you, Colleen. You need me.
You need me.
Colleen swallowed against the smoky flare of the whiskey. It had gone down a little rough, but now warmth spread through her. She looked at Jesse. “Stay?”
“What else are you going to do? Go out into the cold? Not just yet,” he told her with that smile, that damn smile she’d been trying to ignore all these nights when she came in to prove a point to herself.
A point she’d failed to make tonight. Or maybe it was the opposite. Maybe tonight was the first time anything she’d done had made sense.
She didn’t need Steve, and hadn’t for a long time. She never would again. She wouldn’t need anyone again, she thought, finally looking at Jesse. Really looking at him, that smile, that earnest look. No more need, she told herself.
But she could want.
Colleen let her tongue dent her lower lip, where the whiskey flavor still lingered. It was not her imagination, was it, that Jesse watched her do it? Or that something in his gaze flared? Embers that had been banked so long inside her she’d have sworn they’d gone cold kindled at the sight of his look.
“You don’t have to get home?” she asked him, pausing. Thinking. “Your kid?”
“She’s with her mother. School’s canceled tomorrow. So’s her mom’s work. They’re all set.” He put both hands on the counter and leaned a little closer with a head tilt that made everything inside her tumble and twist. “Can I get you another drink?”
The one she’d had was already softening the edges of everything. How long had it been since she’d had liquor? “Four years. Eleven months.”
“Hmm?”
She looked at him. “The last time I had a drink was the night I finally decided to leave my husband. He goaded me into it. Both the drink and the leaving.”
“What about tonight?” Jesse asked quietly.
“That,” she said, “was him, too.”
Without a word, Jesse pulled out a squat glass and poured a shot of Jameson into it, then another into her empty glass. He lifted his.
After a moment, she did, too.
It went down smoother this time. And somehow sweeter. Colleen shivered, not from the alcohol’s burn but at the way Jesse was looking at her.
“He used to tell me all the time that I needed to loosen up. Lighten up. That I didn’t know how to have a good time. That because I liked things a certain...way...” She paused, swallowing, not sure why she was telling him this. Only that she needed to tell someone. “He said I was a pain in the ass to live with. No fun. I was a boring, nagging bitch who had to control everything, but that I was incapable of doing anything on my own. He made me feel constantly incompetent. Oh. And, according to him, I was frigid, too.”
Jesse coughed lightly.
Colleen laughed. Low at first, then louder, letting her head fall back. The sound was harsh, very little humor in it. She closed her eyes for a second, memories unfurling like a ribbon inside her head, before she opened them to focus on Jesse.
“I’m not,” she said. “I just didn’t like fucking him.”
It was Jesse’s turn to laugh, the sound sweet as honey and just as thick. He leaned on the bar, hands shoulder-width apart. Fingers slightly spread. “He sounds like an asshole.”
“He was.” She licked her lips, watching again as his eyes followed the movement of her tongue. His gaze warmed her more than the booze had; Jesse looked at her as though he wanted to eat her up.
It had been a long time since a man had given her that stare. No, that wasn’t true. It had been a long time since she’d paid attention to a man giving her that look and wanted to return it. Colleen let her fingertips trace a circle of damp left behind on the bar by her now empty glass. She glanced out the front plate-glass windows to the cobblestone street outside. A few people walked past, laughing and tossing snow at each other. Night had fallen, hard and dark and deep.
“It’s still snowing,” she murmured.
“Good thing we don’t have any place to go, huh?”
“Why did you let me stay, Jesse?”
His smile faded for a moment, just long enough for him to blink. Then he leaned a little closer. “Because...I thought you needed to.”
She remembered him giving her the chocolate mousse, and how it had rubbed her the wrong way. Yet he’d done so many things for her over the past few months since he’d started here at The Fallen Angel. He’d come to know her preferences so easily and had made it so easy for her to come back, week after week.
“I told you how I feel about people assuming they know what I need.”
He nodded and turned to press a button on the small remote that controlled the pub’s sound system. In seconds the slow, distinctive beat of “Cry to Me” filtered through the speakers. It had been one of her favorites for years, first as a cut on a vinyl album she’d found as a teenager scouring thrift stores and then later, as an adult, an iTunes track. How had he known?
Like the whiskey and onion rings and mousse and everything else, Colleen thought, he just had.
Chapter Four
Jesse moved before he could second-guess himself. He went around the bar, one hand out. He didn’t ask her to dance. He waited for her to take his hand.
She waited long enough that he was certain she wasn’t going to, but then her fingers eased into his and squeezed. Colleen slipped off the stool, a little unsteady but catching herself so that she didn’t stumble. She was in his arms half a minute after that, the two of them pressed close on the splintery wooden floor that wasn’t really meant for dancing. On one of The Fallen Angel’s good nights, when the crowds of Fell’s Point filled this bar cheek to cheek and hip to hip, there would have been no been room for them to do this, but now he spun her out slowly and back in again to dip her.
She laughed as he pulled her up, and damn, that smile, that gorgeous chuckle, made him understand why men had claimed they’d die for their lady loves. Everything about this woman made him want to make her happy. Keep her safe. When she allowed him to pull her in close again, he took a long, deep breath against the fall of her pale hair.
She shivered, tensing, but he kept his grip steady so she didn’t pull away. He’d have let her go, of course. He wasn’t grabbing her. Wouldn’t force himself on her. But in another second she relaxed against him, her face in the curve of his shoulder. And yes, oh, shit, yes, her hand cupping the back of his neck.
They danced.
Someone had been messing with the controls for the sound system, and when the song ended, there were two beats of silence before the same one started again. He waited for her to pull away from him, but she didn’t. They moved to that old song as though it was the first time they’d ever heard it, and Jesse let himself get lost in the heat of her body. The scent of her. The smoothness of her cheek against his.
She murmured something under her breath as the song came to an end for the second time, but he couldn’t catch what she said. He paused, not wanting to ruin the mood. “Hmm?”
Colleen pulled away enough to look into his eyes. “I do like chocolate mousse. I like it a lot.”
“I know you do,” he told her.
“I’ve never ordered it here.”
“I just...guessed,” Jesse said.
Colleen’s eyes flashed bright for a moment before she shook her head and gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “I was such a bitch to you that day, Jesse. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He settled his hands on her hips, fingertips just brushing the swell of her butt. He wanted to slide them lower, but didn’t dare. Not when this was going so well.
She linked her hands behind his neck. The song had started a third time, and both of them moved in a small circle. With every step, her body rubbed his. It was going to get embarrassing in a few minutes, but he didn’t stop.
“Do you think I’m pretty, Jesse?”
He didn’t hesitate for a second. “I think you’re beautiful.”
She laughed.
It seemed impossible that he could pull her closer, but somehow he managed. “What? You don’t think so?”
“If enough people tell you that you’re beautiful, you can easily start to believe it, right?” Colleen’s mouth twisted wryly. “And yet it only takes one person to tell you that you’re ugly to make anything anyone else ever said feel like a lie.”
“Did he tell you that you were ugly?” The ex-husband, the asshole.
“No.” She shook her head. “He never had to say it out loud. He just made me feel that way.”
“He’s—”
“An asshole,” she cut in. “I know.”
It was the perfect time to kiss her, so he did. He could tell himself he meant it as a sweet gesture, only friendly, but the moment his mouth pressed hers, it was all he could do not to crush her against him. And when her lips parted, opening for him, and her tongue slid along his, Jesse broke the kiss with a small, mortifying groan.
Colleen shuddered. The brightness had gone out of her gray eyes, replaced by something hazier. Heavy-lidded. She slipped her tongue along her lower lip the way she’d done a few times already tonight, each time sexier than the last. She hadn’t moved away from him, and now his cock was definitely making itself known. She had to feel it against her. She had to.
The song ended and began again. She looked toward the bar. He didn’t want to let her go long enough to change the song, but as he started to, she turned to him.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Jesse paused, an unwelcome but also relieving space between their bodies, his hands still on her hips. “Where do you want to go?”
“I live two blocks away.” She let her hands slide down his arms to entwine his fingers with hers and squeezed them.
Everything inside him knotted and tangled. Jesse studied her, searching for signs that the whiskey had made her too drunk to be rational. It wouldn’t have been the first time a woman invited him back to her place. Drunk twentysomethings on a pub crawl, tipsy cougars out to prove to their friends they still had what it took, bachelorette party beauties trying to be memorable and make memories. Colleen wasn’t like any of them.
Maybe she was messing with him. Revenge for pissing her off? Playing a game?
She looked into his eyes. Shadows shifted there. Something dark, but definitely aware. She knew what she was doing and what she wanted, yet still he hesitated until she spoke again.
“Come home with me, Jesse.” If it had been a question, his common sense might’ve taken over and let him decline, but she hadn’t said it that way. No hesitation, no question.
A command.
* * *
They’d run the last half block, laughing and grabbing up snow to toss at each other. No plows had passed, which would make the morning an infinite pain in the ass for anyone trying to get in or out of any of the narrow, cobblestoned Fell’s Point streets. With the snow still coming down at an inch or so an hour, already more than the weather forecasters had predicted, they’d be lucky if they got shoveled out by Monday.
She was going to get lucky, Colleen thought as her key chattered in the lock because her numbed fingers couldn’t quite fit it on the first try. With Jesse on her heels, she shoved open the front door, which stuck as usual because it was hung a little crooked. The pair of them stumbled into her dark foyer, lit only by the streetlamp outside. She slammed the door behind him, hard, to make sure it closed all the way.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’m not going to try to escape.”
Colleen hung her keys on the small hook beside the door and loosened her coat. Tossed it onto the newel post. She was so cold her teeth chattered worse than the key, and she’d lost feeling in her toes, but when she stepped up to pull him by the front of his shirt, all she felt was heat. “Kiss me.”
He did. Softly at first, but harder when her mouth opened. His hands dug into her hair, fingers scraping her scalp like the best sort of deep massage, and it was her turn to moan. With her fingers still twisted tight in the front of his coat, Colleen stepped back, back, back until she hit the wall next to the arched doorway to the living room.
His hands were all over her. His cock, deliciously hard through his jeans, pressed her in just the right spot as he shifted, and Colleen gasped. Jesse’s mouth moved from hers to nibble at her chin, and then yes, oh, God, yes, her throat. His teeth scraped her, sending arousal in red pulsing waves all through her.
“Touch me, Jesse.” The words slipped out of her. Too much. Too harsh? But instead of sneering or laughing at her, Jesse groaned. One hand moved between her legs, his knuckles rubbing her clit through the sleek fabric of her winter-weight leggings.
Somehow they were moving again, this time into the living room, where she fell back onto her plush sofa with him on top of her. He moved, crotch grinding against hers. His kisses were fire, burning her up. But he was a little big, a little too heavy. Overwhelming. Without thinking, she pushed and rolled, ending up straddling him with her thighs pressed to his.
Colleen, breathing hard, sat up, one hand pressed flat on his chest. The other went to his belt buckle. She wanted to get him naked and have her way with him. She wanted to climb up his body and get his mouth on her clit, to ride his face until she came.
Yet she faltered. Her fingers had worked open his belt but not the button or zipper, and she paused. Her heart pounded. The whiskey had warmed her, loosened her, but she was far from drunk.
What the hell was she doing?
In this dim light, it would’ve been impossible to see the color of his eyes, but she knew they were a bright, pale blue. A striking combination with his near-black hair. Jesse was a handsome guy. More than handsome. Gorgeous. She’d seen the way the women who went to The Fallen Angel flirted with him, and how he’d always been pleasant but professional. Yet here he was with her. Why?
His eyes had been closed, but now he opened them and sat up a little bit. “Colleen? Are you okay?”
She’d asked him here. No. She’d told him to come with her. She’d practically attacked him in the front entryway. And now she was on top of him, tearing off his clothes. Colleen swallowed against a suddenly bitter taste.
“I...I’m sorry,” she managed to say. “I’m not usually this...demanding.”
Jesse’s hands rubbed her thighs, moving up to settle on her hips and keep her in place when she tried to get off him. “Don’t be sorry.”
Controlling bitch, echoed Steve’s voice. She tried to push it away, but the memories rose up again. Bitter. Hateful. His mockery, disdain, contempt and, finally, derision. Always have to have it your way, huh? Can’t just take it like a woman should? Frigid, boring bitch. Maybe get a few drinks in you, maybe that’ll make you more fuckable.
Colleen shook her head, scattering her ex-husband’s taunts. She drew in a breath, looking down at Jesse. At least the dim lighting made this a little less embarrassing. Gave her a little extra courage. She got off him, anxious for a second when it seemed like he wouldn’t release her. She sat next to him on the couch, close but not quite touching.
Jesse turned toward her. “Hey. You okay? Look, we don’t have to...um... I don’t want you to think we have to. If you don’t want to.”
“I want to.” That was the truth, though she said it in a low voice, half hoping he wouldn’t hear. “It’s just that it’s been a while. And I’m not sure I can. Come, I mean. I’m not sure.”
Silence. She counted the beat of her heart. Five, then six thumps before he spoke.
“I’d like to help you, if I can.” Jesse cleared his throat lightly. “Shit, that sounded cheesy. I mean I’d like to... Shit, Colleen, I want you. Have for...well, long enough. I’d like to make love to you.”
That made her laugh, too loud. “You mean fuck.”
“I’d like to fuck you, yeah.” Jesse’s voice was closer to her ear than she’d expected. His breath, warm on her face. He didn’t touch her, though. “I’d like to make you come. I’d really like that.”
Her need had made her greedy, but when she kissed him, it was slower and softer than it had been. Less frantic. When he moved closer to put his arms around her, she let him. It went on that way for a while. The kissing deepened. His hands moved over her, gently at first, a little harder if she moaned or sighed. Their clothes came off, and being naked with him was less nerve-racking than she’d have imagined, if only because the room was still so dark.
When his hand moved between her legs, stroking, Colleen shivered and twitched. Her breath caught. When he pushed her back against the cushions, murmuring a question about condoms, she blinked.
“I don’t have anything.” How stupid had she been? Inviting him back here with no preparation.
“Hold on.” He pushed off her, but he was back in half a minute. “I have one in my wallet.”
Flashbacks to high school made her sit up. Without his heat, she was starting to get cold. “Is that a safe way to keep it?”
“I have a special wallet,” Jesse told her. He was silent for another second, then sounded half embarrassed. “It’s got a special pocket.”
“Oh.” At this she sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. “You must use a lot of condoms.”
She heard the hesitation in his answer, but then he moved closer to brush his lips over hers as he replied, “I believe in always being prepared. That’s all.”
Then he was moving over her again. Hands, mouth, teeth. His fingers slipped between her legs, making her shiver and shake, but then moved away. She waited, tense, for him to push her legs apart. To enter her. She wasn’t going to come, not even close to it.
“Let go,” he whispered. “Let me make you feel good, Colleen.”
But she couldn’t, that was the trouble. Steve had been right, she was too controlling. Too uptight. A sobbing breath hitched out of her. This was going wrong. She wanted it to be over so Jesse would leave. She stroked his fully erect cock, concentrating, listening to the sound of his breathing get faster. She sheathed him and positioned herself, ready.
But instead of pushing inside her, Jesse shifted on the couch so he could be on his back. She’d bought this sofa, love at first sight, because of how wide it was. Plenty of room for him to stretch out, no cushions in the way. He tugged her along with him, urging her to straddle his thighs the way she had before. His cock jutted between them. His hands pressed her hips for a second, his thighs bunching beneath them. When she touched him, his cock jumped. Jesse moaned softly.
He put his arms over his head, his fingers linked.
Everything inside her blazed. Her breathe soughed out of her, hitching in her throat as she did her best but failed to hold back a moan of her own. The muscles in her belly tightened. Her pussy clenched.
Colleen let her fingers drift over his belly, feeling his muscles leap and twitch. She looked at his face, his closed eyes. His tightened lips. Jesse’s hips pushed upward.
Slowly, slowly, Colleen seated herself on his cock. Her thighs gripped his hips. She waited for him to move, to grab her or to start thrusting. To take control.
But Jesse didn’t. He acquiesced to her every move with his own soft sigh and the shudder of his body. He throbbed inside her.
She didn’t move.
Not for some long minutes as she concentrated on the feeling of him filling her. The beat and pulse of him inside her. He strained, shivering, but didn’t move more than with the subtle shift of his in-and-out breath.
His hands stayed locked over his head. And that, oh, that giving up, that giving in... Her hips rolled, finally, unable to stay still. She wanted—no, needed—to move on him. To feel his thickness sliding in and out of her.
“You feel so good,” he whispered.
More heat flooded her, rising up her throat to paint her face. She rocked on him, her clit rubbing his belly every time she moved. He would grab her now, she thought. Change up the rhythm to suit himself. And then it would be a rush to see if she could finish getting off before he did. But Jesse didn’t do that. His eyes opened, locking with hers. He thrust, but in time with her motions. His fingers unlinked.
“No,” she said suddenly. Harder than she meant to. “Keep them like that.”
She thought he’d protest, or sneer, or, worst of all, laugh, but instead his gaze went dreamy and heavy-lidded. His hands locked tight to each other again. And best of all, he groaned, his throat working with that sound of pleasure as he arched and moved beneath her.
“How good do I feel?” Her voice didn’t sound like her own.
“So good.”
She rode him harder, desire rising. Her fingers dug into his lean sides, and Jesse gasped. “Tell me how good.”
“So fucking good.” His voice broke, rough and rasping. “Fuck, Colleen. You feel like heaven.”
She slipped a hand between them to stroke her clit while she fucked him. Her pleasure spiraled higher and higher, everything coiling and twisting and tangling as she rocked on his erection. She was lost in the ecstasy, urged on by the look in his eyes and the grim press of his lips. The sweat on his forehead. He groaned again, and she almost came from the sound of his pleasure.
They moved together, faster, in perfect time. Her climax teased her, just out of reach. She wasn’t going to make it, and anxiety pierced her again, making her want to move more desperately—if only to get him off so she could pretend she had.
And then she looked again at his linked fingers. The bulge of his muscles in his arms and the tendons of his wrists showed his struggle to keep his hands together. And why? Because she’d told him to.
Then she was coming, no holding it back, and the rush and push of her orgasm stole her breath. She wept with it, though she didn’t want to. She dug her nails into him, and Jesse bucked beneath her. They finished together, and Colleen let herself fall forward to rest on his chest, her face buried against the side of his neck. They stayed that way, breathing hard, until his arms went around her, holding her close. And even though she hadn’t told him it was okay, Colleen discovered it was the perfect thing for him to do.
Chapter Five
“I’ve never eaten here.” Jesse pointed with his chin toward the front door of the Blue Moon Cafe, one of Fell’s Point’s most popular breakfast spots. “The lines are insane.”
Colleen, that glorious hair tucked under a ridiculous knit cap, grinned and kicked the snow off her boots against the concrete steps. “Tourist.”
“Hey!” he protested as he followed her into the tiny restaurant, furnished with an eclectic array of mismatched tables and chairs. “Unfair.”
She laughed at him over her shoulder and waved at the waitress behind the counter. “Hey, Sheila. Wasn’t sure you’d be open. But I had a craving for the French toast that just wouldn’t quit.”
“Mike made it in, so I did, too. But you might be the only customers.” Sheila waved at the empty tables. “Take your pick. Might be the only time you ever see it this empty.”
“There will be others,” Colleen said. “Bad weather doesn’t mean people won’t need to eat.”
The snow had fallen all night and halfway into the morning, tapering off but starting up again as they’d ventured out. They’d get another few inches, Jesse figured, not caring about being stranded because...damn. If you had to get snowed in, what better way to spend the weekend than with a sexy moon-haired goddess?
And she was a goddess, he thought, watching her surreptitiously as she looked over the menu. Last night had been incredible. Amazing. Thinking of it now, his dick tried to stir. There’d been a few moments when he’d been unsure that she really wanted him, or that she was enjoying it, but then wow. Something had triggered in her, and the way she’d taken charge had been incredible.
It had made him want to do anything to please her.
They both ordered the house specialty, Cap’n Crunch French toast, along with bacon and hash browns and coffee that Sheila brought in heavy-duty white mugs before going to the front door to look out at the snow.
“It’s just not stopping,” she said. “If I didn’t live close enough to walk, I’d never have made it in.”
“We’ll get out of here as soon as we finish,” Colleen told her. “Let you get home.”
Sheila laughed and looked at Jesse. “Take your time. Hey, aren’t you the bartender over at The Fallen Angel?”
“Yep.” Jesse lifted his mug.
“Think you’ll open later, when I want to get a drink? Kidding,” Sheila said at the look on his face. “Totally kidding!”
Colleen leaned close to him when Sheila went into the kitchen. “She wasn’t kidding.”
“I wasn’t scheduled to work this weekend anyway,” he told her. He wanted to kiss her. He would have, if he thought she wanted it, but despite last night, this morning Colleen had been a little distant. Friendly. Flirtier, sure, than she’d ever been on a Thursday night. But not the way she’d been the night before.
“Do you think you’ll try to get home?” She spun her mug around and around, not looking at him.
It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. It sure as hell wasn’t what he wanted her to say. Before he could answer, Colleen spoke again.
“I don’t even know where you live. You probably can’t get home, huh? Certainly not if you have to drive. You should just...stay. With me.” She looked at him then, her gray eyes faintly shadowed. “I mean, if you want to.”
“If you want me to,” he started, but went quiet when Sheila brought out their food. He waited until she’d settled everything for them before he said in a low voice, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to invite me.”
“Where else would you go?”
“I could crash at the Angel,” Jesse said. “There’s a bunk in the back room.”
She stared at him for a heartbeat.
“I can’t just leave you stranded.” Colleen cut her French toast into precise squares and gave a nod, as though she’d made a decision and there was no changing her mind.
Not that he wanted to. But he didn’t want to be a pain in the ass, either. “Look, really, I can hole up in the Angel if I have to. I don’t want you to feel obligated just because we...because of last night.”
She frowned. “Do you feel obligated because of last night?”
It wasn’t the word he’d have chosen. Hopeful would’ve been a better choice. But he didn’t want her to think he was just another horny asshole taking advantage of the situation, though. So all he said was, “Of course not.”
Then the check came, along with Sheila’s unspoken urging for them to finish their food and get the hell out of there so she and Mike could get home. Jesse grabbed it before Colleen could, holding it out of the way when she protested. He laughed when she tried to grab it, but she didn’t.
“My treat,” he told her. “For keeping me warm.”
It came out wrong, he saw that at once when her frown deepened. She sat back in her chair. Her chin lifted.
They finished their meal in near silence after that. On the street, the snow was up to the bumpers of parked cars. The footprints they’d made on their way here had disappeared, not even a dimple in the white fluffy expanse to show anyone had been there at all.
“It’s so quiet.” Colleen’s breath blew out in front of her in frosty plumes, and she gave him a sideways look. “And beautiful.”
She was beautiful. And melancholy. The deadliest combination, as far as Jesse was concerned. It made him want to take care of her, which was going to be trouble, he knew it. He’d been burned before, such a sucker for the damsel in distress. He also knew it didn’t matter. He’d get burned again.
Back in her town house, one of the really nice refurbished ones, he admired the gas fireplace in the living room. He hadn’t noticed it the night before. Hell, he hadn’t noticed anything but her.
“It doesn’t work,” she told him. “I mean, it probably works, but I haven’t figured out how to do it.”
He looked it over. “It’s probably just the pilot light. I can start it for you. It might be nice to have a fire, huh?”
“Oh, I don’t need—”
But he was already kneeling in front of the glass to twist the knobs and check the pilot light and the valve for the gas supply, both of which had indeed been turned off. It only took a few seconds of fiddling to get them both working and then turn on the fireplace. He grinned over his shoulder at her.
“Nice.”
“It hasn’t worked since I moved in. Thanks,” Colleen said. “I didn’t really need—”
His phone rang then, and he made an apologetic gesture before pulling it from his pocket. “Hey, kiddo. What’s going on?”
“We’re snowed in,” Laila said. “Mom says it will be Monday before we can go anywhere. I’m bored! Can’t you come get me?”
“I’m snowed in, too.” Jesse sat back from the warmth of the fire, watching as Colleen bustled around turning on a ceiling fan and then rearranging the couch cushions they’d scattered last night. “Couldn’t get you if I tried. You’ll have fun with Mom. Don’t worry.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at a friend’s house.” Jesse gave Colleen a glance, but she wasn’t looking at him. “I’m okay.”
“Daaaaad!” Laila sighed, ever the drama queen.
“Sorry, kid. Blame Mother Nature. Put your mom on the phone.” He chatted with Diane for a minute or so, making sure they were both fine and laying out the child care arrangements for the next week. When he disconnected and set his phone on the coffee table, Colleen had just returned from the kitchen with a tray of mugs and a teapot.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yep. Laila, that’s my daughter. She’s snowed in with her mom but was bored and wanted me to come get her. Her mom doesn’t have cable TV.” Jesse looked at the tray. “Coffee?”
“Cocoa. Is that okay?”
“Perfect.” He moved to the couch, hoping she’d join him, but Colleen sat in the armchair across from him.
“How long were you married?”
“Oh.” He paused. “We never got married. We had Laila when we were seventeen. We met at a party, got a little drunk. Did something stupid. We stayed together for a couple years and tried to make it work, but it was mostly over by the time we graduated from high school.”
Colleen coughed lightly. “Oh.”
“She lives with her mom most of the time, but we raise her together.” Jesse poured cocoa for each of them and added marshmallows from the small bowl on the tray. “She’s a great kid.”
“I’m sure she is. We never had children. My ex, Steve, wanted a son. But we never got pregnant.” She hesitated, then cleared her throat. “It’s a good thing, really. If I’d had a child with him, I’d never have been able to leave him.”
He wasn’t going to argue with her about that, though he knew plenty of people who hadn’t stayed together for the sake of the kids. “You’ve been divorced for...?”
“Officially, three years.” Colleen took her mug, warming her hands but not drinking. When she put the mug back on the tray and fixed him with a look, Jesse braced himself. He’d seen that sort of look before. “I just want you to know something. Last night... I’m not usually like that.”
“Hey, no judgment.” Jesse shook his head. “We’re both grown-ups. It seemed right at the time. It doesn’t mean I think less of you or anything. And, believe it or not, I’m not usually one to just hop into bed with any random stranger, either.”
“But when you do, you make sure you’re prepared.”
“Learned my lesson the hard way,” he told her lightly. “I love my kid more than anything in the world, but it sure did make me a helluva lot more careful about sex.”
“It’s not the sex. Well, yes, the sex,” she amended. “But not the fact we did it. Just...how it was.”
He smiled at her. “You mean fantastic?”
Color rose in her cheeks, and her eyes glittered. “I mean how I was. With you. Telling you what to do and... Well, I’m not really that controlling, I’m really not like that. I don’t have to have it all my way.”
Her voice cracked. She picked up her mug and sipped, grimacing. She must’ve burned her tongue. The cocoa spilled over her fingers, and she yelped. Jesse grabbed up a paper napkin and pressed it to her hand, blotting the spill and taking the mug from her at the same time with his other hand. He set it down.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine!” She was clearly anything but fine as she got up to pace in front of the fireplace. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not like that. That’s all.”
“Like what? Powerful? Strong? Sexy as hell?” Jesse watched her without getting up.
She whirled to look at him. “Uptight and controlling and demanding and...needy! You think I needed you to fix my fireplace? That I couldn’t do it on my own?”
“You didn’t do it on your own,” he pointed out.
“That doesn’t mean I couldn’t!”
Jesse bit back his defensive response, which left nothing but silence between them. She was breathing hard, her color high. Snow from earlier had melted in her hair, making it gleam. Like starlight. And damn him, he still wanted to bury his face in it and let her do whatever she wanted with him.
“I didn’t think you were uptight or too controlling,” he told her finally. “If you want to know the truth, I liked it when you took charge.”
For a moment longer, she said nothing. Then she scoffed, “Sure you did.”
“Colleen, do you really think I didn’t have a good time last night?” Jesse got up to approach her, but she took a step back and he stopped. “It was amazing, being with you. When you told me to keep still. The way you moved. I don’t have to tell you how sexy you are.”
“I’m not begging for a compliment, Jesse.”
“It’s not a compliment. It’s an opinion.”
Colleen’s eyes narrowed, and she bit her lower lip. “You liked being bossed around?”
“Well. I can’t say I love being bossed around in regular life, no. But in the bedroom, yeah. A little bit.” He took a deep breath, thinking about it. “Okay, a lot.”
“I’m not a dominatrix,” she said flatly. “If you’re expecting me to pull out the whips and chains and leather, you’re going to be disappointed.”
The idea of that, no lie, did get his cock a little thick, but he kept his expression neutral. “I’m not disappointed.”
Colleen put her hands on her hips. “I just didn’t want you to think that’s how I am.”
“But that is how you are,” Jesse said.
“You think I like telling you what to do?” Her eyes blazed, but she didn’t look angry. Not quite.
“Yeah.” He took a step closer, waiting for her to pull away. She didn’t. “I think you do. I think you get off on it, the way I get off on you doing it.”
“Bullshit.”
“What’s bullshit is you trying to act like being in charge sexually makes you a controlling bitch, when one has nothing to do with the other.” Jesse took another step toward her. Close enough now to grab her, though he made no move to do so.
“My ex said—”
“Maybe,” Jesse told her, “you should think about letting go of what your asshole ex-husband said and just do what makes you feel good.”
She stifled a gasp. “You think fucking you made me feel good?”
“I know it did. And I’d like to do it again. And again, until you come so hard you can’t stand up.”
He’d blown it. Gone too far. He could see it in her eyes and the twist of her mouth and the way her shoulders squared. But Colleen surprised him.
“Take off your clothes,” she said. “Now.”
His hand went to his belt at once. Unbuckled. Unbuttoned. Unzipped. He shoved his jeans down his hips, past his thighs, and stepped out of them. She glanced at them when he kicked them away, but only for a second or so before her gaze fixed on his face. Jesse held Colleen’s stare with his as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed that, too. Standing in only his socks and boxer briefs, his cock already straining the soft fabric, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband and waited. Heart pounding.
“Everything,” she told him. “I want you naked.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He’d tried to sound light, but failed. His voice was as thick with need as his hardening dick.
Colleen groaned softly, drawing out her reply, spoken so softly he barely heard it. “Fffffffuck.”
Naked in front of her, cock bobbing, he should’ve felt ridiculous. But when she circled him, admiring, letting one hand reach to trail along his shoulder blades and then down the line of his spine, all he could do was close his eyes and enjoy the caress. When she slid a hand to cup his balls, then stroke him, his knees buckled.
“Get on your knees,” Colleen whispered. There was nothing of whips or chains in that command, nothing harsh. She said it as though she expected his worship, but did not yet believe she deserved it.
He didn’t so much get on his knees as much as he melted onto them. His hands went naturally behind his back, wrists crossed at the base of his spine. He didn’t think about why. She hadn’t asked him for that. It just seemed right.
At the soft touch of her hand on his hair, he shuddered. Gooseflesh broke out all over him, though he was anything but chilled. Her hand passed over his head and then cupped his chin. She tilted his face to look up at her.
“You can go,” she told him. “I can’t make you stay. Or do this.”
In reply, he turned his face to kiss her palm. He spoke against her skin. “Tell me what you want, Colleen. And I’ll do it.”
“I don’t know what to ask.” Her voice rasped. “I’m not sure how.”
He leaned to press his face to her belly. She wore leggings. When he pushed his mouth between her legs he could feel the heat of her through them. He breathed out, adding the heat of his breath. Then the pressure of his mouth and chin.
“Do you want me to kiss you,” he murmured, “here?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
“Then tell me what you want.”
“I want you to undress me,” she said in a syrupy, dreamy voice. “Take off my clothes and eat my pussy until I come.”
He was already tugging down her leggings to get at her bare skin beneath. The lacy scrap of her panties tickled his lips when he kissed her there. The smell of her filled his senses, making his head whirl. She moved, and he moved, turning so that she ended up sitting on the chair next to him. Still on his knees, he moved between her legs and covered her mound with his mouth. Breathing, sucking gently through the lace. He wanted his mouth on her bare skin so bad it hurt, but he was waiting.
“Panties off,” Colleen said. “I want your mouth on me.”
At the first taste of her, his cock throbbed. His balls ached. His hands slid up her thighs to open her to his questing tongue, then his fingers. He found her clit and flicked his tongue along it, then the seam of her, dipping briefly inside to taste her honey before finding her sweet spot again. He pushed a finger inside her, then another, moving them in time to the stroking of his tongue.
She tasted like heaven, but the sounds she made when he licked and sucked her were making him lose his mind. Right then there was nothing Jesse wanted more than to make this woman explode. He eased off, teasing her a little.
“Don’t stop.” Her hands dug into his hair, pulling him closer. Her hips rolled, pushing that sweet pussy against his mouth.
It was all he could do to keep up with her now. Jesse lost himself in making Colleen climax, teasing her swollen folds and the tight, hard knot of her clit until she cried out his name. Shit, he almost came just from the flood of sweetness she released on his tongue and the grip of her inner walls on his stroking fingers.
She shook, pulling his hair hard enough to make him groan. Then she eased off, relaxing back into the chair. Going limp.
“Oh, my God,” Colleen said. “Do you think you could do that again?”
Chapter Six
The best part of making mistakes was learning from them. Colleen’s dad had said that often, always when she’d blundered in some way or another, although he’d always been good about never making her feel like an idiot for messing up. He would’ve said it about her marriage to Steve, she knew that much, if he’d been alive to see it happen. There were times when she’d wished the heart attack that had taken her father too young had spared him long enough to have said it. Other times, she was glad he’d never had to see her mess up so terribly in something so important.
What would he have said about Jesse?
She simply didn’t know. It hadn’t felt like a mistake at the time. Taking him home, spending the weekend with him. Fucking him until they were both weak-kneed and faint and aching in places she didn’t know she had muscles. But on Monday morning, when he’d insisted on shoveling out her car for her before heading back to his own, it had begun to feel like she’d screwed up. Big-time.
He’d kissed her on her front porch, and she’d let him because it would’ve been impossible to refuse after the weekend they’d shared. Not unless she wanted to come across as, well, cold and frigid. Or rude. So she’d let him kiss her, even though it had felt too much like a promise she knew she couldn’t keep.
He was too young. Too handsome. Too eager to please her. He made her feel too much in too short a time. She was ripe to be swept off her feet, seeing as how it had been a damn long time since she’d so much as kissed a man, much less had wild, passionate, unfettered sex with one.
This could only lead to misery and heartbreak. Hers. She felt the stirrings of it already, that yearning to see him again though it had only been a day since that last kiss. The constant checking of her phone to look for a text that couldn’t possibly be there, since she hadn’t given him her number. Yet still hoping he’d magically found it. Worse, the urge to saunter on down to The Fallen Angel all casual-like, even though it was not a Thursday and he might not be working. Or he might be, which wouldn’t be any better, because then he’d know for sure she was there to see him, and he would know that she liked him. All of this was a giant platter of nope with a side order of hell no.

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