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He gave her a crooked grin, amusement saturating his amazing eyes, which had lightened to hazel. “It was my pleasure.”
ChapterThree
The consequences of having sex with the handsome stranger among the trees behind the Wake stayed with Julia. She was positive she would have collapsed had he not been holding her. She had trouble concentrating and sleeping soundly. And her body … It was a thrumming, aching vessel, craving the feel and power of him moving inside of her again.
The man without a name—why hadn’t she asked and why hadn’t he told her? —filled her nightly dreams, which only grew more graphic as the weeks wore on. In the two-plus weeks since she had been with him, he conquered more and more parcels of real estate in her mind during waking hours, rendering her a foggy, daydreaming mess. Julia’s fuse grew short with coworkers and friends and avoided her dysfunctional family, easier to do since her father and uncle were away on business. She preferred to be left with her mystery man.
She needed to return to the Wake. To Mr. Nameless. Have another session of mind-blowing sex and then end it, whateveritwas. If it was simply sex, why was she feeling like this?
Because her dreams included that mischievous, knowing smile, sparkling eyes, and deep voice. And the way he looked at and touched her, set her blood on fire.
Early this morning, her dream went on for what seemed hours—gazing into each other’s eyes, kissing, and tracing the ink covering his sculpted muscles. The gentle prolonged foreplay was enough that she exploded when he plunged into her a second time. He came right after her.
Julia woke—hips pumping, heart racing, and chest heaving. She had reached for him. Shocked to find the bed empty, she glanced around her bedroom, confident he was there. A quick walk through her house confirmed the dream had been just that, one hell of a mindfuck. Even though it was two in the morning, there was no going back to sleep.
She started a pot of coffee and took the coldest shower she could handle, then sat on her front porch swing in the sultry June air with her favorite mug, sipping the caramel macchiato-laced brew and mulling over her predicament. They hadn’t kissed, but she was sure he was exceptional, if how he had touched and explored her with his mouth and hands were any indication.
Could she satisfy his needs? She wanted to.
Did he have any expectations? Yes. He had promised to get her off, and he did. He had given her the most explosive orgasm of her life and minutes of pleasurable aftershocks. He played her like a fiddle, and she had allowed him to. She wanted him to play with her again and again.
Julia was exhausted from active dreams and interrupted sleep. A visit to the Wake might give her answers. She drove herself there after her lunch meeting.
* * *
While the Wake looked more suspect in daytime, it was obvious that efforts had been made to improve it. Things she hadn’t noticed the other night: the steps leading up to the porch and the porch itself, had new planking. An updated, sturdier railing was in process. Fresh evergreen-colored paint coated the door. Relieved of dirt, the windowpanes reflected the sunlight.
Julia inhaled deeply, then blew out her breath slowly and reached for the door handle. Why was she so nervous? Because there was a chance that she might see him, and he would see her. There was no cloak of darkness in which to hide.
Ceiling fans whispered above her, occasionally clicking, making it cool inside. She slipped off her sunglasses. It was as dingy as she remembered. Two men sat at a table in the corner. They nodded and raised their beers. Behind the bar, the older white-haired woman—Sammi, if she recalled—who had made Julia, Haven, Poppy, Eddie, and Tilly drinks.
Julia waited patiently, not wanting to interrupt her while she was taking inventory.
Sammi looked up from writing on a clipboard. “Hi, honey. You lost?”
“No, ma'am. I was here with my recently.”
“The name is Sammi. I remember. Two French 75s and three margaritas.”
“Wow.”
Sammi pointed to her head and grinned. “Despite the white my mind is like a steel trap. Didn’t think I’d see you or your gal-pals here again. What can I do you for?” She leaned forward, and rested her elbows on the wood counter, the deep brown eyes engaging Julia. “You want a drink? The air is thick out there today.”
“Itisstifling. A great day for cool water and cold drinks, but I’m good, thank you.” Julia stammered under the frank inspection. “Uh … well … I’m looking for someone. Tall, late-thirties to early-forties, salt and pepper hair, scruffy face. Tats, a lot of muscle.” She bit her bottom lip to stop from adding ‘a great ass.’
“That so? Describes more than half the men that come in here.”
Julia sensed Sammi was stonewalling.
“He was bartending.”
“I was bartending.” Sammi stated evenly, cocking her head, eyes narrowing.
“Right. I meant the outdoor bar. I didn’t catch his name.”
The older woman firmly shook her head. “I can’t help you honey. And if I could, I’d need permission to share his name with you. You’re not the first Cliff Bunny to come looking for some excitement in the Narrows.”
“I’m not a Cliff Bunny. And I’m not looking for excitement. Just him.”
