He bolted upright in bed, his lungs working like a bellows as he gasped for air. Sweat dripped from his body as he buried his face in his hands. His heart was pounding so hard against his chest that it hurt, and he concentrated on taking one deep breath after another, trying to calm the frantic beat.

The dream was a familiar one. He’d had it many times over the past twenty-three years. It usually occurred during times of stress or when he was exhausted from work. Tonight, he knew it was because he’d been pushing himself too hard lately.

Rolling out of bed, he planted his feet on the floor and stood. Naked, he strode to the bathroom off the master bedroom, trying to shake the remnants of his dream. He twisted on the taps, cupped his hands together and sluiced the cool water over his face. Turning off the taps, he rubbed his hands over his face and raised his head, peering into the mirror above the sink.

The skylight and the small window allowed enough light to filter in from the city streets so that he could easily see himself in the mirror. The lanky eighteen-year-old youth was gone. In his place was a large, muscular man whose grim face looked tough and mean in the dim light. Lucas Squires closed his eyes against the sight. Some days he hated to look at himself, for the face he saw peering back at him was eerily like his father’s.

Swearing, he turned away and padded out of the bathroom, ignoring the bed as he passed through the bedroom and continued down the hallway. It was futile for him to try to go back to sleep. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, and time and experience had taught him that the best way to deal with it was with physical activity. Hot, sweaty sex or a workout were the two best options. And since he was currently without a female companion, a fast and hard fuck was definitely not in the cards.

Entering his workout room, he grabbed a towel he’d hung on the bar earlier and laid it across the weight bench. He didn’t bother with lights. What little was filtering in through the window was more than adequate. Settling himself with his back on the bench, he braced his legs, hoisted the bar and began to lift. He could easily bench-press his weight of two hundred pounds and he counted off the repetitions. After he’d done three sets, he hefted the bar back into place and lay there on the bench, staring at the ceiling.

He really didn’t want to work out tonight. What he really wanted was to lose himself in the softness of a woman’s body. He wanted to hear her moans of pleasure as he stroked his hands over her smooth skin, longed to hear her cries of completion as he drove his cock into her hot, wet pussy over and over until they both came in a rush of heat.

It would be nice to have a special woman waiting for him each evening when he came home from work. He squashed that thought as quickly as it had formed. Years ago, he’d decided that he was better off alone. The incident with his father had taught him that the same violent tendencies that had existed in his father also lived inside him. The thought that he might be like his old man sickened him, and he wasn’t taking any chances. There was no way he’d risk a woman’s safety. The image of his mother’s battered and bruised body still haunted him.

He’d had several long-term relationships with women who wanted a monogamous partner without all the ties and hassle of a “real” relationship. They’d all been intelligent, perfectly nice women who’d been focused on their careers and hadn’t been looking for more in a man than a willing partner for sex. All of the relationships had eventually ended amicably as all three women had been ready to move on with their lives and he hadn’t been willing to offer more. So he lived alone, and at forty-one, he was content with his life and proud of what he’d done with it.

But none of that changed the basic fact that he had a hard-on that wasn’t going to dissipate any time soon. What he really wanted was a woman. His woman. Closing his eyes, he pictured her in his mind. She’d be curvy and soft with eyes the color of rich chocolate. She’d smile at him with her pouty cherry-pink lips as she flicked her cinnamon-colored curls over her milky-white shoulder. One corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile when he realized he was using food, specifically baking ingredients, to describe his perfect woman. But after all, they were his stock and trade.

His cock twitched and he reached down and wrapped his hand around it. Slowly, he moved it up and down the hard length, all the while imagining it was her touching his body.

Her hands would be small but eager as they grasped him, squeezing tight. She’d use her other hand to cup his scrotum and massage his balls. His breathing got deeper as he relaxed into the daydream.

Then she’d smile at him, a wicked smile that made her eyes gleam with mischief as she knelt in front of him. Lowering her head, she would lap at his cock with her tongue, swirling it around the tip. He could picture her pink lips sliding over the hard length as it disappeared into her mouth. Ever so slowly, she’d pull back, tracing her tongue over his pulsing erection.

Groaning, he pumped harder and faster as he imagined her hand working up and down his length as she continued to suck him off. Her breasts would be plump, tipped with large pink nipples, and they would sway with every movement she made. She’d moan and arch her sex against his leg, drenching it in her juices. Damn, but she’d taste fantastic too. He knew she would. A combination of sweetness and musk that would be addictive.

A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and into his eye, but he ignored the sting. He was so close to coming. His balls drew up tight to his body as his hand continued its frantic rhythm. His cock seemed to swell even larger as he pumped harder, imagining her mouth sucking him deeper. Lucas’ whole body jerked as semen gushed from the tip of his cock and he came onto his stomach. The daydream flickered away and his dream woman disappeared back into the mists of his imagination.

As he lay there panting for breath, his hand dropped away from his cock. Physically, he felt better, but there was an emptiness inside him that yearned to be filled. Liquid began to drip down his side and he swore. Sitting up quickly, he grabbed the towel out from under his body and used it to clean himself up.

Dawn was breaking as he pushed off the weight bench and headed back to the bathroom, dumping the towel in the laundry room as he passed. Sleep was definitely not going to happen now. He shoved a hand through his short hair, yawning so wide that he felt his jawbone crack. Pushing all thoughts of his restless night out of his mind, he focused on the coming day.

A shower was his first priority. Then it was back to work. He had a ton of baking to do this morning if he wanted to get everything done in time for the party that would launch Coffee Breaks in its new location. Work had always been his salvation and this time would be no different.

Chapter Two

“Girl, you need to get laid.”

Candy Logan burst into laughter at her best friend’s pronouncement. Shaking her head and smiling, she turned her attention back to the papers strewn across her desk. She knew the address she was looking for was buried somewhere in there and she didn’t have much time to find it.

“I’m serious, Candy. You need something else in your life besides work.”

“You’re supposed to call me Candace.” The words were automatic, as much a reminder for herself as it was for her friend.

“I don’t know why you want to change your name all of a sudden. What’s wrong with Candy?”

Giving up hope of getting any peace and quiet until she’d placated her friend, Candy sat back in her chair and stared at the other woman. With her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, Missy Sinclair was a formidable presence. At six feet tall, with dark ebony skin and piercing brown eyes, Missy was gorgeous enough to have been a fashion model. People literally stopped in their tracks when she walked by— or sauntered by, as the case may be. Missy never hurried anywhere unless absolutely necessary. She was also the best friend a girl could ever have and the two of them had been close since they started working at TK Publishing six years ago.

“People don’t take a woman named Candy seriously.” She’d heard every joke and innuendo in the book growing up. For some unfathomable reason, her mother had saddled her with a name that always made her the butt of jokes.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, ignoring the brewing headache as she tried to remember where she’d put that address. “And I want to make the most of this promotion.” She’d been promoted to publicist, and this new project was the first she’d handled on her own for the company. Up until now, she’d been an assistant publicist— more a glorified secretary, actually. She was flying solo on this one and there was no way she wanted to screw it up. But nothing had been going the way she planned.

“Once people get to know you, they don’t care about your name. You’re damned good at your job.” Missy pushed a lock of dark brown hair out of her face and sighed. “And I still think you need to get laid.”

“That’s your answer for everything, Missy. Sex.” It was easy for her friend to suggest that, but then, she didn’t have any trouble getting dates. Candy hadn’t had a date since… well, she didn’t even want to try to remember the last time she managed to have a date with a man who even remotely interested her. Too many of her friends had set her up on blind dates and she’d sworn off men altogether after the last fiasco.

“No, it’s not.” Missy gracefully lowered herself into the seat in front of Candy’s desk and crossed her long, shapely legs. “Sometimes chocolate will do the trick.” She grinned mischievously. “But this situation definitely calls for sex.” She paused for effect before continuing. “When was the last time you even heated the sheets?”