Not all of the puzzle pieces of life seem to fit together at first. But, in time, you’ll find they do so, perfectly.
-Doe Zantamata
Mark shut the door that led from the garage to the kitchen and flipped on the light.
Things had almost gotten out of hand tonight. Again. If not for Karma’s dad, Mark didn’t think he could have stopped from taking things all the way, which wasn’t how he had planned their first time. But she had looked so sweet, and he had missed her more than he thought. Then he’d seen the books on her dresser, and his mind ran away with him. By the time she started telling him about the fantasy from the Penthouse book, he had already been losing his restraint.
He had almost gotten himself under control, though, but then she scratched her fingernails against his scalp and kissed the side of his forehead. After that, the animal inside him had reared up and struck, refusing to be collared. In that instant, he had wanted her in a way he had never wanted a woman.
What was it about Karma that excited him beyond his ability to maintain control? That overrode every shred of reasoning he possessed? The moment he saw her, logic fled and passion ruled. In only a month, he had grown unbelievably addicted to her, and he was in no hurry to give her up.
He pulled off his shirt as he climbed the stairs to his loft bedroom, where his home office took up half the spacious room. Maybe it was time to invite her over. She had yet to visit him at the condo, and maybe on his own turf he could regain control and not let his mind wander down paths that could never be.
Tonight, for instance. He had wanted to make love to her. Not because it was part of some timetable and he felt she was ready, but because…well…it had felt right. So incredibly right. With Karma, he didn’t have to hide. She made him feel secure, which was strange, because he was supposed to be the one making her feel safe. And yet, he couldn’t deny what he felt. Karma made him forget about the pain of his past, which was something no other woman had ever done. In her way, she was helping him as much as he was helping her, which was something he hadn’t expected.
He stuffed his shirt into his laundry bag and changed out of his jeans into a pair of sweats. He was still hard. He had been since the moment he saw her bare, pink-tipped toes.
Kicking back on the bed, he ignored the reports lying beside him and turned on the news. But his mind wasn’t focused on the rising price of gasoline, or the shooting that had taken place on the South Side, or even on the approaching cold front. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, his thoughts still on the unbelievable, enigmatic, ever surprising bundle of sweetness and sizzle named Karma Mason.
What had happened after he left her apartment. Had she told her father who he was? If so, had he read her the riot act? Probably so. Any good father wouldn’t want his daughter in such a relationship.
Mark could have stayed to lend support, but leaving had been the right thing to do. He didn’t need to meddle in her family life, especially since he would return to Chicago when this was all over. Standing beside her in an argument with her dad would have only created confusion.
More confusion.
He couldn’t let himself lose sight of how this would end. No matter how much he liked her or how eager he was to have her, he had to keep his head about him. This was not the time to let his emotions take over.
“What are you doing, Strong?” he said quietly, chastising himself. “You’re blowing it.” He rubbed his palms over his face. Get your head on straight and quit thinking she’s different than the others. She’s not. She’s just another woman. That’s it. And she, more than all the others, holds the power to hurt you the most. Don’t let that happen. Do what you said you’d do and leave it at that. By winter, you’ll be back in Chicago, and she’ll still be here. That’s the plan. That’s what you told her. And that’s how it’s going to be.
He decided to forego the reports until morning, went to the bathroom, hopped in the shower, and gave himself what his body had wanted for the last hour.
As he came, it was the fantasy of Karma kissing his temple, scratching her nails against his scalp and shuddering through her own orgasm that he replayed through his mind.
So much for his pep talk.