His Tempting Love Read online

  She left the table as a Nine Inch Nails song began belching out through the bar sound system. For a bunch of cowboys, they certainly loved their hard rock and heavy metal. The irony of that fact was not lost on her.

  Cora rushed away from their table before she did something stupid, like flirt back with the sexy Garrett. She didn’t have room in her life for a man. It wasn’t that she hadn’t dated. She had—or at least, she’d tried—but her life wasn’t simple or easy, not when she had someone who counted on her for everything.

  Just because the sexy Garrett made her blood pressure spike like a pressure cooker, didn’t mean anything. She couldn’t act on her desire, could she?

  Cora ordered the bucket of Coronas from Matt, the bartender with the disposition of a constipated bear with territorial issues. He was hot, without a doubt, with his sexy, smoke-colored gaze and blue-black hair. But the bar was Matt’s domain and woe betide the waitress who thought she could go behind the gleaming wood with impunity. In fact, just the other night Willa had ventured into Matt’s territory to grab a drink and wound up being disciplined. By Matt. During open hours. Her punishment? Riding that damn bull. If there was one thing Cora could die happily never having had to experience, it was that freaking bull.

  Bartender by night and personal trainer by day, Matt was definitely a bit of a sadist.

  Most of the equipment in the club didn’t make her bat an eye. While she’d never been trained as a full on submissive, she’d experienced plenty of bedroom kink. Cora had worn her fair share of handcuffs. And Jeff had always loved ordering her about in the bedroom.

  The familiar ache clenched her heart at the thought of her husband.

  “Here you go, love. The bucket for table ten. How you holding up?” Matt asked, his gaze assessing her.

  “Good. I think I’m getting the hang of it,” Cora replied. Even though this wasn’t what she wanted to do forever, it was a good job for now and she’d work her tail off.

  “You’re doing well. Just let me know if you need any help or if anyone gives you a hard time,” Matt ordered with a nod.

  “Will do,” she said, pleased that he was happy with her progress, then hefted the tray with the bucket. She maneuvered through the occupied and unoccupied tables until she reached Garrett’s.

  Steeling herself, she placed the tray down and lifted the bucket onto the table.

  “Here you go, Sirs. Anything else I can get you?” she asked.

  Garrett studied her as she pulled a beer out for each Dom and placed them on cocktail napkins. “No, that’s all. For now.”

  His stare lasered through her body. She gripped her tray with both hands and replied, “Great. Enjoy your beer.”

  Cora headed to the next table in her station that was now full and took their order. But she felt Garrett’s eyes on her—all night long. She walked in her boots, her feet throbbing, knowing she’d need to soak them once she made it home for the night, and every time she glanced over at table ten, she found Garrett’s blue gaze staring at her. His forthright stare was unsettling. That intense scrutiny ignited a liquid heat that slithered through her veins and made her breath catch in her throat. The man exuded quiet, dominant strength. He wasn’t overly boisterous or obnoxious like some of the other patrons.

  She carted drinks back and forth, to an orchestra of slapping flesh and moans. That was what did her in. How could you not become aroused when there were people screwing in the bondage stations?

  It was midnight before the crowds started to thin out. Once couples had performed scenes, they tended to leave shortly afterward. Which was fine by Cora. It made her job easier.

  “If you want to do your nightly prep, then I can let you get out of here,” Matt said.

  “Really?”

  “Yep. You won’t always work until we close at two. We’ve got enough coverage, so get your prep done and then you can cash out and leave,” Matt said with a wink.

  “Thanks,” she said. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could get a few hours of sleep. In her world if she scored more than four hours of uninterrupted sleep, it was a damn miracle. Cora printed out receipts for each of the tables with an open tab, including Garrett’s. She stopped by each one and gave them their checks, promising to be back shortly to pick them up.

  When she reached table ten, Garrett was still sitting there, watching her. His friend, Jackson, was in one of the scene areas and she blushed at the sight of him thrusting into a tall blonde restrained on the saddlehorse.

  “Here you are, Sir. If you want to keep your tab open, just let me know and I will tell Matt. My shift is ending for the night.”

  “No, I can close out with you,” Garrett said and tossed a few bills into the black billfold, not even glancing at the total. He’d given her a far too generous tip. “So you’ll be free in a bit?”

  “Um, yes, I guess so,” she replied, wondering where he was headed with his question.

  “Then why don’t you join me for a drink?” he offered, his blue gaze deepening, making her think of the ocean at sunset with its dark mysterious waves.

  “I have prep work I still need to do,” she said in response, ignoring his question, and zoomed away from his table without a backward glance. Her heart hammered in her chest at the blatant invitation.

  Cora tried to ignore that her hands were shaking or that she was giving some serious thought to turning around and taking him up on his offer. She took the tray with her prep work—rolling silverware—over to a back table and sighed once she was able to get off her feet.

  She ignored the symphony of moans and groans, concentrating on the task at hand. The sooner she finished this, the sooner she could get home. She was in the middle of rolling one set of silverware when someone took the seat across from her. Lifting her gaze, she saw Garrett sitting confidently, the subtle flexing of muscles and sinew of his shoulders and chest making her mouth water.

  “What are you doing, Sir?” she sputtered, stunned and slightly aroused by his presence, as Garrett picked up some silverware and began rolling it into a napkin, mimicking her actions.

  “Helping, so that you can have a drink with me,” he explained with a dark brow raised, as if it should be obvious what he was doing.

  “But I’m not—”

  “Cora, it’s a drink, not a marriage proposal,” he chided. His fingers were fast and efficient at rolling the silverware, like he’d done more than his fair share of nightly prep work in restaurants and bars. Which made the man who’d given her a forty-dollar tip all the more interesting.

  She chewed his offer over in her mind. Would it be so wrong to have one drink? He was sinfully gorgeous and ignited a desire she’d not felt in ages. It had been so long since she’d felt any interest in a man—true, deep in the gut interest and desire to do the horizontal tango. She wanted to give in to the temptation he presented. What harm would a little flirting and a drink do? She did have a sitter until two. She didn’t have to rush home. For the span of one drink, she could just be Cora, a woman flirting with a handsome man, and enjoy the attention, instead of just being Mommy. The prospect was a novelty and didn’t happen every day.

  Cora adored her son. But since he’d been born, all she had been was a mommy. And she filled the role of two parents, not just one, and as much as she loved Milo, there were days she forgot that she was still a woman with needs that were sadly unfulfilled. It would be so blessedly nice to be regarded as a woman, not just a mother.

  “All right. I have to be home by two, though. So I can only have one.” Cora would seize the moment, considering her body responded to his as if he had some sort of internal dowsing rod attracting her.

  “I can manage that. What’ll you have to drink?” He smiled, a potent, scintillating smirk that held all manner of carnal intent, and her body simmered at the scorching desire.

  “A Manhattan, dirty,” she replied, her voice breathy.

  The lopsided grin that spread over his face turned her insides into an ooey gooey mass that res
embled melted fondue cheese. “I’ll be right back.”

  Garrett rose and sauntered over to the bar. She tried to ignore the way his body moved, like a sleek panther. For such a big guy, he wasn’t clumsy, but surefooted, and carried himself with the confident ease of a man comfortable in his own skin. And his jeans cupped his parts snugly—all his parts.

  Cora tore her gaze away from his spectacular ass, feeling her face flame. She’d been ogling the man. She finished rolling her prep as he returned with a bottle of Corona in one hand and the Manhattan for her in his other. It made her notice his hands. His incredibly large hands that made the martini glass look dainty and out of place.

  How would those long fingers feel against her skin? Or palming the mounds of her breasts? Or, better yet, thrusting inside her sex? Tingles erupted inside her center and her pussy pulsated.

  “I have to cash out.” She stood abruptly, nerves and doubts assailing her. Cora hefted the tray over to the bar. Matt flashed her a grin as he approached.

  “They look good.” He gave her a forthright assessment, then took her prep while she put together her receipts. She was pleased by her tip haul today. Matt double checked her work and then cashed her out in the computer for the night.

  “You sure you know what you’re doing, love?” He nodded to the table behind her.

  “Yeah, certainly.” Except she had no idea. It had been so long since she’d had a drink with a guy and flirted, her nerves were on edge. Before she could talk herself out of the drink with sexy Garrett, she added, “It will be fine.”

  Cora clocked herself out in the computer in what served as the employee break room, with a bank of lockers on one side. She retrieved her purse and coat from her locker. Since she was only going to allow herself to have a single drink with Garrett, this way she wouldn’t have to come back in here when she was done.

  Then she inhaled a deep breath as she exited the break room and walked back over to Garrett.

  “Everything okay?” Garrett’s brow was scrunched as he stared at her with concern.

  Play it cool, Cora.

  She smiled, hanging her coat over the back of her chair before she sat down. “Yes, Sir. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Why do you ask?”

  “You seem rather tense. I can promise you, I don’t bite—much. At least not right away.” He cocked his head to the side as he studied her.

  Cora could imagine his teeth on certain parts of her body and almost dropped the martini glass. She swallowed a long draught of the potent liquid courage and replied, “No, just tired. My feet are killing me in these boots.”

  “You look like you had it handled.”

  She laughed. “That’s because you’re not seeing the after effects.”

  “Oh yeah? And what happens after?” he asked, twining his hand through hers, his big palm pressed against hers. She nearly whimpered at the innocent touch. The slight contact thrummed with heat and possibility.

  “Nothing that exciting, I can promise you. Usually a hot bath, unless I’m too tired,” she admitted. And wasn’t that her biggest problem? She never had time, time for anything but moving at the speed of sound through her day only to collapse into bed each night.

  Rinse and repeat, every day.

  Garrett rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in hypnotic circles.

  “What do you like to do for fun?” she asked him and finally looked into his eyes. She sucked in a shuddery breath at the passion blazing within his gaze.

  “For starters, I like restraining a woman up against a bedpost and tasting her until my chin is soaking wet with her cream,” Garrett replied, his voice dripping with wicked delight. The deep baritone of his voice vibrated in her chest.

  “Oh,” she said, her breath expelling in a rush. The imagery he cast caused her pussy to quiver and her nipples beaded.

  The man had perfected the art of the smolder as he continued his blatant seduction. “Then I like to fuck her until her knees buckle and she’s only held up by my hands on her and my cock pounding inside her. Interested?”

  She inhaled the sip of her Manhattan and choked. She coughed and sputtered. Her eyes watered. She was sure she looked laughable. But then Garrett lifted her up into his arms and cradled her in his lap. He pounded lightly on her back.

  “All right there, Cora?”

  “Yes, sorry. You just surprised me,” she said, feeling his firm thighs beneath her bottom and free hand on her thigh. The bare skin beneath his palm warmed to his touch. And in all honesty, she wanted to burrow into his arms, lean against him and perhaps absorb a tiny bit of his strength.

  “I don’t believe in beating around the bush. I’ve watched you all night long and I want you. If you’ll let me, I will make you come so many times you will barely remember your name.”

  Cora stammered, “I don’t know, I—”

  Her words stalled on her tongue as his hand cupped the back of her head and he lowered his mouth, his satiny smooth lips brushed over hers and claimed her. She was frozen in shock, for about a millisecond. Because wow was all she could think as he dragged her into a quagmire of hungry, hot desire. And this was with just his mouth. To be kissed by Garrett was unlike anything Cora had experienced.

  His mouth laser-focused on extracting as much pleasure as possible from what should have been a simple kiss. Only there was nothing simple about it. He dominated her, his tongue plunging inside to tangle with hers. Her hands instinctively went to his chest. And she was shocked they didn’t ignite on contact. His skin was firm but infinitely soft. Muscles flexed beneath her fingertips and she moaned as he took their kiss deeper… until she didn’t know if she needed to breathe unless it came from him.

  When Garrett finally lifted his mouth, her eyes fluttered open. His thumb rasped across her lower lip and she felt that simple touch clear down to her soul. Yet there was dark lust shrouding his gaze, the desire in the deep blue depths causing her entire body to electrify. It was like the air just before a violent thunderstorm; muggy, thick with heat, and the world standing on the brink of action.

  Garrett said, “Come to one of the private rooms with me, Cora. Submit to me and I can promise to show you a night like no other.”

  His free hand snaked beneath the hem of her halter top, up over her abdomen. Then he moved the lace of her bra aside and cupped her breast, his thumb rubbed over her nipple, and it hardened into a tight point. She bit her bottom lip at the rapture his caress triggered, building with each graze over the swelling flesh, reverberating down to her core. What harm would it do, really? It wasn’t like the people here discriminated, or thought less of others for getting their freak on.

  “What’s it going to be?” he asked, tweaking her nipple, sending volts of electric currents of pleasure straight to her pussy.

  What would the harm really be? She had the time, for one. And clearly her body was on board. At the next strum of his thumb over her nipple, she gasped. “Yes.”

  A carnal, lust-infused smile spread over his generous lips. Lips that had already kissed the sense right out of her.

  “You won’t regret it. Put your arms around my neck, Cora,” he ordered as he stood with her in his arms.

  “My purse,” she exclaimed.

  Garrett grabbed the small clutch purse from the table and positioned it on her lap. Her coat would be fine where it was over the back of the chair. Then he carried her toward the back, past a scowling Matt behind the bar, to the door that led to a hallway with private rooms. This was it. She was going to have sex with a virtual stranger.

  “Just remember I have to be home by two,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper as he carted her into a room. Inside there was a huge king-sized walnut-colored four-poster bed. The mattress itself was covered in a black satin fitted sheet. There were pillows piled near the headboard. But no blankets or comforters, because this wasn’t a place where people slept. And she didn’t miss the shiny, silver metal loops built into the bed frame in multiple locations.

  “I can work with that
. Strip and await me at the foot of the bed,” he commanded and deposited her on her feet.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  On unsteady legs that trembled like a newborn foal’s, with her heart hammering in her chest, Cora walked the short distance to the bed. Why did she feel like a scared virgin on her wedding night?

  Chapter 2

  Three years, six months, and a smattering of days since she’d last had sex with a man. And the last man had been her husband.

  Was it any wonder her nerves were rampaging out of control like a stampeding elephant let loose from the zoo?

  With trembling fingers, Cora removed her halter top and bra, freeing her breasts. The slight chill in the air caused her exposed nipples to bead into hard points. Her belly felt like it contained bull frogs leaping in a riot as she gazed around the room. On her tour of the club on her first night, she’d only caught a brief glimpse of the private rooms. In addition to the massive bed in the center, its wooden headboard against the far wall, the room itself was fairly basic and utilitarian. There was a chest of drawers to the right of the bed in matching walnut that Cora knew carried all manner of sex toys, lube, condoms, and restraints. To the left of the bed was a Spartan bathroom, done in ivory and navy tile with a standup shower stall, sink and toilet. The lighting in the bedroom was muted and soft against the cream-colored walls, adding to the sensual undercurrent.

  Her hands unbuttoned her jean shorts and shoved them down over her hips. That’s when she realized her knees were quaking.

  Inhaling a steadying breath, Cora could feel Garrett’s masterful presence. He was at the chest of drawers, withdrawing items with his back to her, and his essence infused the room.

  Was she sure about this? About him? She’d not had sex with a stranger since college. What would he do with her? Everything he’d mentioned at the table? Or was he more all talk, and the action would be less than satisfactory?

  If his knock her socks off kiss was anything to go by, she wouldn’t be disappointed.