Maya Banks - Sweet Seduction

"Pick me up like that. Like I don't weigh any more than a child."

He chuckled. "A little five foot nothing like you? Piece of cake."

She turned and locked gazes with him, her eyes shining a little brighter. "You honestly don't notice those extra pounds I'm carrying, do you? I love that about you."

Nathan was reminded of the conversation he'd had with Connor in the truck before Julie's accident. The idea that she was somehow not perfect baffled him.

He leaned in until their mouths were just an inch apart. "What I notice is that you're an incredibly sexy, mouthwateringly beautiful woman. In a word, you're fucking perfect."

She blinked as he drew away, her lips slightly parted as she stared at him with a dazed expression. "Wow."

He closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. The ride was quiet, and he periodically looked over to make sure she hadn't passed out, but she seemed wide-awake, her gaze focused out the windshield.

A while later, he pulled into her apartment complex. As he went around to get her out, he experienced a wave of deja vu. Unlike the last time he'd brought her home, this time he wasn't leaving. She'd obviously been left with the idea that he wasn't that interested, and he'd be damned if they went through all that again.

Wanting to impress her again, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the door. She sighed a happy little sound and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Where are your keys, honey?"

"Pocket," she mumbled.

He allowed her to slide down his body until her feet hit the ground and then he reached into her jeans pocket to pull out the keys.

A few minutes later they were inside, keys placed on her kitchen table. Nathan carried her to her bedroom.

The first time he'd brought her home, he'd undressed her as quickly as possible, feeling like a guilty voyeur the entire time. This time he was going to savor every moment.

"Nathan?"

They stood at the foot of her bed, and she looked up at him, her expression so trusting.

"Yes, honey?"

"You're about to see me naked, aren't you."

"Uh-huh."

"Do I get to see you naked?"

He chuckled. "You've already seen me naked, you little tease."

"You look good naked," she said with a sigh.

"So do you," he said huskily.

He reached for her shirt, pulling it over her head. She raised her arms in cooperation. Every part of his body started humming when the pink lacy bra came into view. Her breasts were thrust forward and straining against the cups, the darker peach of the aureoles playing an erotic game of peekaboo.

He was so going to hell for lusting over a drunk woman, but at the moment he couldn't see a downside in that.

When the shirt fell to the floor, he reached for the button of her jeans, loving the feel of her soft belly against his knuckles. He popped the fly and peeled the denim over her hips only to find the thinnest, silkiest pair of underwear that exactly matched the frothy confection that was her bra.

As he worked his hands over her ass to push the pants further down, he discovered that the panties were a thong.

Ah hell. He closed his eyes and shook his head, sure that instead of hell, he'd be assured sainthood if he survived this without throwing her on the bed and burying himself inside her.

Deciding there was no way he'd be able to make it if she slept naked beside him the entire night, he acted quickly and stripped off his T-shirt. He dropped it over her head and pulled her arms through the holes, satisfied when it fell below her hips. There. Almost completely covered.

He kicked off his shoes and hastily stripped down to his underwear, ignoring the way his damn dick was about to bust a hole in the material.

"Come on, honey, let's get you into bed."

She docilely let him lead her around the side of the bed and urge her onto the mattress. She crawled under the covers and laid her head on the pillow, closing her eyes immediately.

Well hell he thought ruefully. Passed out already. But when he climbed in beside her, gingerly easing the covers over his body, she turned into him, curling up like a contented kitten seeking warmth.

A massive wave of satisfaction rocked him. This . . . this was nice. Julie in his arms, sweet and warm, her soft breaths easing over his neck.

Careful not to disturb her, he wrapped on arm around her waist, pulling her in closer. He gently maneuvered his other arm underneath her neck so that she was cradled against his shoulder.

"Good night, Julie," he whispered against her ear.

She responded by snuggling a little closer and inserting her leg between his. Content to wrap himself completely around her, he slid his leg over her hip so that there wasn't a part of her not touching him.

He blew one silky strand of hair from his mouth and then kissed the area right above her ear.

Yeah, this was nice.

Angelina Moyano watched from a distance as Micah stood over the two headstones in the small graveyard. She peeked from behind a large oak tree, her small hands gripping the rough bark. It was always like this. At dawn he'd come to honor their memories. Just as he did every year.

The sun's rays were barely peeking over the horizon, but the Florida humidity was already thick and heavy, each breath a struggle in the cloying heat. She chanced a look over her shoulder, damning her paranoia that she'd been followed, but she couldn't afford to take chances. Seeing nothing, she turned her attention back to Micah.

He knelt at Hannah's grave and carefully laid a single yellow rose, her favorite, just below the marble slab that marked her death. He kissed his thumb and ridge of his forefinger then laid his hand over the flat ground.

Angelina sucked in her breath. It was different this year.

Before he'd always stood there looking so haunted, his eyes filled with grief and regret. This year ... this year he seemed to be saying good-bye.

Her eyes filled with tears when he turned to David's grave and drew a simple rosary from his pocket. He kissed the beads and then laid them at her brother's headstone.

Sadness knotted her throat. She missed them too. She missed Micah, but he was as lost to her as David and Hannah. Maybe now he was ready. Ready to let go. He had grieved long enough. She had grieved long enough.

He rose, shoving his hands into his pockets. For a long moment he simply stood there as the early morning light grew a little brighter.

Warmth flooded the little place where Micah stood, and Angelina took it as a sign that it was time.

"I love you," she whispered, letting the wind carry her words away.

When he finally turned and walked back toward his truck, she waited only long enough so that she wouldn't be seen before she darted back to her car. She would have to hurry if she was going to get to Twilight before he did.

It was where he always went after he paid his homage to his former wife and to David, his best friend. Only Angelina understood the need that drove him. Only she understood his pain, knew his private demons. She would help him because she could do nothing else. She'd loved him far too long. Maybe now he could finally love her in return.

She took the shortest route to the club and whipped into the back parking lot ten minutes later. Though it operated twenty-four hours a day, at this time of the morning it was usually empty, and she knew that was one of the reasons Micah always chose this time to come.

Grabbing her bag, she hurried inside the employee entrance and checked with Rose who manned the front door.

"I'm here, Rose. Just give me a minute to change. If he gets here, put him in room one."

"Hey, Angel baby. I see him walking up now, so scoot on back so he doesn't see you."

"Thanks, Mama Rose." She blew a kiss to the older woman and ran for the dressing room.

She didn't go for garish dress-up. No leather, no high-heeled boots. No, save the mask that protected her identity, she went with black jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. Her long, dark hair was drawn into a braid and tucked down her shirt. She was as nondescript as they came.

The last item was the leather mask that covered her from the neck up. Only her eyes were visible, and they blended with the dark leather, dark, almost black.

David would have killed her if he were alive. He and Hannah would both be horrified that David's little sister was for all practical purposes a surrogate daughter to a woman who owned one of Miami's most successful bondage clubs.

Micah would look at her with those dark eyes and ask her what the hell a little girl like her was doing in a place like this.

And it was all because of him.

A soft knock at her door had her whirling around as Mama Rose stuck her head in.

"He's ready for you, sweetie."

Angelina nodded and walked out the door and down the hall to one of the flogging rooms. When she entered, she sucked in her breath so hard her chest hurt.

Her reaction to him never dimmed. The sight of such a powerful, proud man standing in the middle of the room, bared to the waist, his hands high above him, tied to a spreader. He was utterly magnificent.

On another man, his pose might seem submissive. Weak. Only she knew better. Underneath the seemingly calm surface was a man who seethed with emotion. Dark and boiling. And she would call it to the surface.

His head rose when he heard her footsteps. There was a vulnerability to his eyes she hadn't seen in the past. Like the emotion bubbled that much closer to the surface. Before he'd buried it, only releasing it with his pain.