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“Anne.”
As he sat up, his abdominal muscles were ridges under his skin, and the sight of his arousal lying up his stomach, so thick and hard, made her desperate in a way she hadn’t ever been about anything: His sex was her obsession in an instant, a lock-in that she didn’t want to get free of, a choice that was inevitable—and not because of any outside force, but because of an inner conviction that there was an eternity for her in this moment, this chance to be with him.
And time wasn’t forever for mortals.
“You’re beautiful,” Darius said as he reached forward.
His hands trembled as he caressed her through what covered her, and then his lips were on her throat, her collarbones… her sternum. Spearing her hands into his hair, she held him closer to herself, and he nuzzled at her as he unclasped the front of the bra. When her breasts were bare to him, he licked and sucked on her, the sensations magnified to such a point that she felt the contact all over her body, not just on her nipples.
Splitting her thighs, she welcomed him to her, his erection a hard length that rubbed against her core through the tangle of her skirt. Desperate to be totally naked, she felt like everything was moving so fast, and yet it was too slow. She wanted him inside her now, she wanted that orgasm from him filling her up, she—
“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarius…”
Darius’s head ripped up and looked at the door as she did the same.
Down somewhere on the first floor, someone was singing: “Daaa-aaa-rrriuuusss… Dariusss, Da-da-dariiiiusss!” Pause. “Da! Da-da-da-d-da-d-d-daaaariusssss… where are you and I need a Baaaaand-Aid!”
It was the “Banana Boat” song. And Harry Belafonte definitely sang it better.
“Dariussssssssssssssssssssssssssss, Da-da-dariuuuuuuu-uuuuuuuusss!”
“Oh, my God.” Darius dropped his head between her bare breasts. “No. Just no. This night can’t be doing this to us.”
“Who is it?”
“The scourge that never stops eating.” Darius pulled the covers off the other side of the bed and wrapped her in them as he got to his feet and yanked his pants back up. “I’m surprised he’s looking for Band-Aids, but I guess you can put ketchup on anything. I’ll go get rid of him—”
“Annnnnd I’m also hungry,” came the booming voice. “Dariuuuusssss, Da-da-dariuuuuss—”
Riding a string of F-words, the man whose name was being used to butcher an otherwise very fine song zipped himself up with all the force someone would use to deadlift a hatchback. And as he went to the door, the fact that his strong back was covered with bandages was a grim reminder of where the night had gone.
The roller-coaster ride of surprises was continuing, evidently.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “I swear, it’s not usually a madhouse around here.”
“It’s okay.”
“Just give me a minute.” He put a hand up. “And no, I’m not going to leave this house again. I’m injured out, for one thing. For another? No one but you and Fritz are going to want to be around me. Trust me.”
Darius was shaking his head as he left, that singing flaring in volume as he jerked things open, then dimming again as he closed her in.
She lasted about a second and a half.
She had to know who else had stopped by for a visit. And a proper-name-a-cappella.
Scrambling, Anne pulled her bra back into place and fastened it. After she contorted herself in order to get her shirt back on, she jumped off the bed and headed for the door. Out in the hall, she finger-brushed her hair into some sort of order on her way to the stairs—
Anne stopped as soon as she could see over the balustrade.
Down in the foyer, just inside the wide-open front door, Darius was standing with a man who… was like nothing Anne had ever seen before. The guy was so handsome, she almost couldn’t focus on him, his blond hair thick and swept back from his beautiful face, his eyes so turquoise they were neon, his body so chiseled that even fully clothed, he seemed both naked and full of sex appeal—
His eyes locked on her. And the smile that was sent her way could have lit up the world.
But it was funny, Darius was the only one she truly saw.
“Hi!” the man said as he waved at her. “What’s going on? How you doing?”
Next to him, Darius put his head in his hands. But the blond man was so welcoming, so irrationally happy to see her, she couldn’t help but like him. He was like a big, beautiful golden retriever.
Anne was halfway down the stairs when she realized his right sleeve was stained with blood. And by the time she was standing by Darius, she noticed that there was another wound on his side.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she wondered whether they were going to have to get that Harvard professor with a doctor’s bag back.
