Chapter 7

Somehow, Mariah managed to keep her voice steady at the bomb Thomas dropped. “Excuse me?”

“I see he didn’t tell you about that.” His lips twisted into a cynical smile.

Thomas grabbed a bin and wheeled it to his Buick Enclave.

With little effort, he opened the back and lifted it into his vehicle.

She stood in the doorway, speechless.

Anthony and Allegra?

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” he added when he returned to retrieve the second bin. “Your sister was smart enough to see through him; you should be, too.”

Misgivings swept through Mariah as she watched him drive away.

When the vehicle was no longer visible, she closed the door. Mariah rubbed her upper arms, as if trying to keep herself warm.

In her heart, she knew Thomas was probably trying to get a rise out of her. He could have been lying, but Mariah’s insecurities about men and Allegra were too ingrained in her psyche to be dismissed.

Mariah wavered, torn between conflicting emotions. There was a part of her that wanted answers and the other part wanted Anthony.

#

Choke on that, you bastard.

Thomas glanced in the rearview mirror, his face set in a vicious expression. He never liked his cousin because Anthony was the first-born grandson, he was strong-willed and good-looking, and he was poor. Thomas’s mother taught him not to associate with poor people, but then she decided to take Anthony in, even though she didn’t like him either. Angry, he asked her why she changed her mind. All she said was, “What goes around, comes around.” Her ambiguous answer intensified his dislike for Anthony, which turned into hatred the first night his cousin moved in. That ghetto trash had the nerve to hit Thomas, when all he did was tell Anthony the truth about his alcoholic mother. But Thomas and his mother made him pay for that indignity…

As for Mariah, she was alright to look at, but her only assets were a nice butt and a pair of lips that should’ve belonged to a porn star. He really didn’t care about her, except to ruin Anthony’s chances of getting in her pants. He considered that a public service.

#

The air was cool and the clouds obscured the moon as Anthony pulled up into the driveway beside Mariah’s Nissan.

As he approached the front door, Anthony turned down the collar of his charcoal gray cloth shirt and unfastened the two top buttons at his throat. Tonight was a turning point in their relationship. He could feel it. Some things were going to be said, things Mariah probably didn’t want to hear – like the kiss they shared, and how it was more than a kiss for both of them. He had to be ready to counter her objections with words, and actions.

When he knocked on the door and Mariah opened it, a chill black silence greeted him, sending alarm bells ringing. His stomach churned, but his voice remained composed. “What happened?”

“Thomas was here, and he told me some things.”

Anthony’s expression was a mask of stone, but he inside he seethed. “Are you going to let me in or are we just going to talk here?”

After a few moments of deliberation, Mariah stepped back.

Anthony let out of breath of relief. At least she didn’t slam the door in his face. He followed her into the house, each stride fluid.

The moment he closed the door, Mariah faced him. “You don’t owe me any explanations,” she said, her voice firm, decisive. “It’s not like we’re dating or anything.”

Anthony walked forward, the soles of his shoes moving across the floor until he stood two feet from her. The material of his dark steel flat front trousers bunched and loosened with each step.

“What did he say?”

Mariah took a step back from Anthony’s nearness. “That you propositioned Allegra.”

“That’s a lie. She hit on me.”

Mariah shrugged and managed to say, “She was an aggressive woman, and a man like you would have to keep women back with a whip.”

He stroked his chin and moved forward a step. “It happened a few weeks after I moved back. It was Ms. D’s birthday and I came over to bring a gift and take her out to dinner. Allegra was already there and Ms. D went to her room to change clothes.”

Anthony spun around when Allegra’s hand squeezed his butt. “What is wrong with you?” he whispered, his brows drawing together in an angry frown.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had your butt squeezed before? It’s such a nice, tight one.” There was a faint glint of humor in her eyes.

“Have some respect. Your grandmother’s in the next room.”

“Anthony, we’re not strangers, and it’s just sex. What’s the problem?”

“You’re dating my cousin.”

“We’re not exclusive…”

“I don’t care. You –”

Allegra molded her curves to his powerfully built physique and planted her lips on his. She attempted to twine her arms around his neck, but Anthony halted her with an iron grip on her shoulders, firmly setting her away from him. His face became a marble image of contempt. “Back off, Allegra. I mean it.” He released her.

Sudden, brief anger lit her eyes, and she attempted to cover it with a mocking smile. “Suit yourself. Gran D,” she called out as she watched Anthony, “I’m leaving now.”

Hands shifted into his pockets. “Next thing I know; Thomas is calling me – he probably got my number from Thomasina or found it through the Internet. He warned me to stay away from his woman.” A shrug. “I told I’ve never wanted any woman he’s touched and hung up.”

After a moment, Mariah murmured, “I can believe that. He claims you’ve tried to steal women from him in the past.” Mariah kept her eyes on Anthony, maintaining her distance as she slowly backed her way toward the kitchen.

Anthony continued to follow Mariah, ensuring that only two feet remained between them. “That lying… It was the other way around, and sometimes he was successful.” Wolf eyes narrowed as he stared at Mariah. “Some women don’t want to be with me.”

Mariah cleared her throat. Her hip nearly hit the table.

“So what did he want?”

Mariah took a deep breath. “To pick up Allegra’s things.”

Tired of talking about Allegra and Thomas, Anthony lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Smells good in here.”

Mariah nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “Thanks. I hope you like blue fish. Pull up a chair.”

#

Thomasina rose until she met her reflection in the mirror, and grimaced. She topped one-seventy on the scale, but since Allegra’s death she’d lost weight and appeared haggard.

Good thing she worked from home. She’d never been pretty, but looking as she did now, she’d scare her co-workers. Wiping her mouth on her paisley pajama sleeve, Thomasina left the bathroom and headed back to bed. She wasn’t there long when she heard a thunderous knock at the door.

“What in the world…?” Her brows pulled into an affronted frown as she went downstairs. She looked through the peephole, sighed and opened the door. She wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon.

“Here,” Thomas said without preamble, pulling two trunks into her first-floor Northwest Raleigh condo and dropping them in the living room.

Thomasina blinked in dazed exasperation. “What is….?” She closed the door.

“I saved you a trip.”

Her gaze landed on the trunks and realization dawned on her. “Oh.” Her eyes came up to study her older brother’s face. A satanic smile spread across his full lips, and there was only one other person who could put it there. “Thomas -”

“I got him.”

Thomasina knew who “him” was. “Oh, no. What did you do?”

#

Back at Allegra’s, Anthony enjoyed his meal, even asked for seconds. When he and Mariah were finished, he offered his assistance with cleaning up. But despite their peaceful rapport, the previous conversation hung in the air between them like a fine mist. Mariah had to dispel it somehow. She knew it was unwise, but she couldn’t help asking, “Did you ever want Allegra?”

Anthony placed the last dish in the drain with deliberate slowness, then gave Mariah a black layered look. “Don’t ask me about her anymore.”

Rapid anger lit her eyes. “Why not?”

“Bringing her up is a smoke screen, just a way to avoid talking about us.”

“Us? There is no ‘us’.”

“Really?” His amber stare impaled her.

“Are you serious?” Mariah sputtered. “You kiss me once and I’m supposed to assume–”

Before she could blink Anthony was upon her, boxing her in, so close he left her no room to move. Her heated retort hardened his features, casting his scars in sharp relief. “It was more than that and you know it.”

Odd-colored eyes became slits as Mariah leaned away from him, the counter digging into the small of her back when she tried to put a little distance between her and his unbelievably warm physique. “I don’t know any such thing,” she lied.

“Is that right?” he disputed evenly as he tilted closer, taking advantage of Mariah’s withdrawal. That ocher-tinted gaze slid down to those unique lips before he moved in for the kill.

Large, square hands cupped her cheeks and jaw as his tongue delved into her mouth, demanding access, giving heat. Pleasure radiated outward and Mariah’s eyes drifted shut – in spite of herself – as she curled into the curve of his frame.

Anthony lifted his head. “I never liked Allegra. I never wanted Allegra,” he whispered, his lips brushing her as he spoke. “Ever.”

Elation spiked inside Mariah at his words. She knew that. She just wanted reassurance.

Anthony’s forefinger traced the line of her cheekbone and jaw, curving under her chin. Then he captured her top lip between his, sliding his tongue across its soft texture, sending shivers of desire racing through Mariah, before his mouth covered hers.

Mariah’s arms encircled his neck. His kiss was slow, thoughtful this time, melting her resolve. One hand explored the soft lines of her back, her waist, her hips, arching her into his body, the other slipped around the back of her neck. He left her lips burning with fire and nuzzled her earlobe before capturing it in his warm mouth and stroking it with his tongue. Mariah’s body felt like half ice and half flame and she moaned low in her throat. She never realized how sensitive her earlobes were until Anthony came into her life.

Reclaiming her lips, Anthony crushed her to him, his mouth moving over hers with arousing precision. Mariah’s trembling limbs clung to him as she returned his kiss with reckless abandon. When he pulled away, Mariah opened her eyes, trying to fight her way out of the sensual mist. The harsh, uneven rhythm of their breathing filled the air, and his royal face displayed an uncanny awareness as he looked down at her, his eyes smoldering with fire. “It’s time to stop running, Mariah. From everything.”

#

The time between leaving the house and entering Anthony’s home was a blur. Mariah didn’t even hear his front door shut when he clasped her body to his, taking her mouth with almost-savage intensity. Mariah put her arms around Anthony’s neck, and returned his kisses with reckless abandon. Her heart hammered in her ears. She’d never felt so desired, so wanted in her life, and it was exhilarating.

His hands moved down the sides of her body to her thighs, then back up to her waist. Without warning, he circled one arm around her back, the other under her butt, and lifted. Mariah’s breath caught in her throat as she felt her wedges clear the floor and lock around his waist. Breaking off the kiss, Anthony stared into her face. Mariah raised her thick, black lashes and it took her a moment to realize where Anthony was going.

“Stay,” his voice rang with command. Mariah jerked, and then understood the command was for Ming. Before she knew it, Anthony flicked on the light switch, closed his bedroom door with the heel of his shoe and eased her down onto the bed, resting her head against a firm pillow.

His mouth swooped down to capture hers, his kisses sending spirals of excitement through Mariah and she twined her arms around his neck. He rolled, taking her with him so that she wound up on top, her legs on either side of his hips. He raised Mariah’s tunic over her head, tossing it into a corner by the door. His kiss became insistent and exploratory. His touch was light and teasing as his fingers slid under her bra straps, easing them down off her shoulders. Large, warm hands moved to unhook the front clasp, but the second Mariah felt his fingers brush against the bare skin of her chest, she gasped, realizing a jolt of panic.

Mariah sat up like a shot and crisscrossed her arms over her chest, shielding her lace-covered breasts from view, the bra straps falling to the middle of her arms. Anthony’s glance dropped from her eyes to her arms and back again. Mariah felt her composure crumble and bit her lip, looking away.

“What?” he asked as he sat up, his voice as soft as a caress. Broad, sculpted shoulders heaved with unquenched longing.

Mariah’s mind burned with the memories of Terry, and past insecurities rushed to the surface. “I-I can’t do this,” she spoke in a tremulous voice. “I’m sorry.” Keeping both hands across her chest, she attempted to move off his lap, but Anthony was too fast for her. He wrapped both hands around her waist, his fingertips meeting at the small of her back, holding her stationary.

“Don’t be sorry,” he rasped with gentle emphasis. “Just talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Mariah blinked several times, feeling lightheaded. Her eyes darted around the room in embarrassment and her chin lowered. “I haven’t been with a man in six years,” she admitted, her voice unsteady. She looked up at Anthony.

Amazement flared in his gaze, and he didn’t speak.

With a moan of distress, Mariah tried to move off his lap again, but he locked his fingers at her spine so she couldn’t escape.

“What happened?” His eyes now brimmed with tenderness.

Mariah mistook the look he gave her for pity and shook her head. “Forget it,” she murmured and fidgeted, shielding her breasts with one arm while her other hand reached around and tried to dislodge his fingers. “Take me back.”

Anthony tightened his hold. “So you can sit in the dark and brood?”

Mariah bent backwards, moved her free hand to his shoulder, and pushed. It was like trying to move granite. “Anthony.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said my name,” he mused as she continued to fidget in his arms. His eyes roamed over her face. “Do you remember the first time?”

Heat stole into Mariah’s cheeks. She ceased her efforts to catch her breath. “Let me go,” she demanded her voice hoarse with shame and fatigue.

“Talk to me.”

Mariah’s eyes flashed and she resumed her struggles.

“I can do this all night,” he remarked.

Mariah stopped, silently cursing his superior strength and tenacity, her chest rising and falling. She slid her fingers from the curve of his shoulder to the back of his neck, her eyes narrowed and those ripe upside-down lips thinned into a mutinous line.

Heeding the warning voice that whispered inside his brain, Anthony dodged the oncoming head-butt and rolled, bringing Mariah underneath him. Her hips cradled him, and her hands were over her head, trapped by both of his.

Shock yielded to fury and desperation. “Let me go.” Mariah’s head thrashed from side to side on the pillow, flinging her hair over her eyes. She dug her wedges into the bed in an attempt to displace him. The only thing she succeeded in doing was pressing him against her softness.

Anthony took in a swift breath. “Stop, Mariah.”

It took less than a minute before Mariah gave up. Winded, energy spent, she closed her eyes, feeling defeated and miserable.

Anthony released her arms and she felt his fingers push the hair away from her face and eyes. A gentle kiss brushed across her forehead and his warm breath caressed her temple. “Talk to me,” he urged his voice uncompromising yet reassuring. “If you tell your story, it won’t have power over you anymore.” His hands slid down until they rested near her hips.

Mariah crisscrossed her arms over her breasts. When she finally lifted her eyes, raw hurt glittered in them. “I married my father,” her voice broke.

Anthony’s levered downward. “What do you mean?”

She gave a choked, hollow laugh. “My father didn’t love me, and neither did Terry.”

Anthony heard tidbits about how the late Robert St. Cloud favored Allegra, but nothing to this degree. “What happened?”

Mariah’s throat ached with despair, but she forced the words past her lips. “I met Terry when I was twenty-four, and my social life revolved around school, like it does now. He was older, thirty-eight. I was looking for an apartment and he was the listing agent. He was friendly enough, not too pushy, but there was something…oily about him. I suspected as much, but he charmed me. I had little dating experience and I didn’t listen to my instincts.

“A few weeks after I got my apartment, he called and asked me out. He was persistent and a few months later I finally gave in.” Her voice faded a little. “Then my father died. I was raw, vulnerable and grieving, and that’s when Terry pounced on me like a bird of prey. He tried to get me to move in with him, but I kept my apartment until we married. Mom, my best friends, Solé and Mark– they tried to warn me, but…he was there for me; made himself available when I needed him. Terry was my first love. I finally had a man who loved me. Or so I thought.”

“And what did he get in return?”

“A virginal, twenty-six-year old bride. Terry was good-looking, charismatic, take charge. Like my father, like Allegra.” She gave Anthony a wry glance. “Kind of like you, too, but he lacked your protectiveness and sincerity.” She grimaced. “I should’ve known it wasn’t going to work out during the honeymoon…”

Mariah watched as Terry loomed, his fingers untying the belt of his robe. Her stomach churned with anxiety and expectation. Her first sexual experience was going to be with her husband. His eyes slid to her pink lingerie and his mouth softened as he approached, dropping the robe in a nearby chair. Mariah clenched her hand until her nails created crescents in the blankets as Terry came closer.

He was a handsome man, with skin the color of bronze that magnified his ebony eyes. He was large-boned of average height, with muscular arms and a powerful chest. His hands, big and square, reached for the cover, trying to pull it back.

One corner of his mouth twisted upward. “Mariah, baby. I’ll take care of you, but you’ve got to relax.”

Mariah managed a wobbly smile, releasing the blanket one finger at a time. She slid down until her spine touched the mattress, her fingers fluttering as she rested them across her stomach.

Terry wasted no time climbing on top of her, his mouth covering hers. A soft gasp escaped her. Mariah’s fingers tightened on his biceps. He’d kissed her numerous times, and the experience was always pleasant, but it was never like this.

He’d always been gentle, now his lips were hard and searching. Mariah tried to keep her fragile control. Tearing her lips away from his, she gasped, “Terry. Wait.”

“What’s wrong, baby?” He retained his affability, but there was a subtle hardening of his eyes. Mariah chalked it up to being celibate for almost two years. They’d never even gotten to second base.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s just… you’re different.”

“I’ve been waiting for you so long and now that we’re here…” His deep voice was edged with control. “You know I love you.” He insinuated his stronger leg between hers.

In the back of Mariah’s mind, his words seemed watery and hollow, used so much by shallow men, but her brain was in tumult. So she followed her heart…

“It slowly dawned on me how shallow and egocentric Terry really was; how cunningly vicious he could be. When he wasn’t trying to mold me, he ignored me.” She lowered full lashes, helpless to halt her indignity, but she continued anyway. “If it had been Terry with me at the restaurant that day, he would’ve flirted back with that waitress, even taken her number in front of my face. He’d done that before and explained it away by saying that he didn’t want to hurt the poor girl’s feelings, and that he’d throw it away later.”

“How long were you married?”

Mariah’s lashes lifted. “Nineteen months, three weeks and five days. The problems got worse when I started working at the college as an adjunct professor. Terry didn’t express his dislike for my career until after we married, and he became increasingly jealous of my work and my hours and wanted me home before him. Months into the marriage, his behavior changed. He became erratic, paranoid, up all times of the night. He accused me of things, from cheating to moving his wallet and he constantly peeked through blinds. I suspected he was cheating, and even though I refused to sleep with him, I was willing to work on our relationship. I finally learned why he was so…erratic. I never expected to come home early one night to find him sniffing coke in our bathroom.”

A cold shiver spread over her as she recalled the sight of Terry snorting white powder through a straw. “He didn’t know I’d seen him and I acted like everything was normal, but I knew there was no going back after that. So I packed up my most important possessions the next morning while he was at work and moved back in with Mom, and I’ve been there ever since.”

She paused a moment before continuing. “The divorce was acrimonious on his part, and all I wanted was half of the sale of the condo, which I got. Shortly before I filed for divorce, he left a message on my cell, calling me a flat-chested, freaky-eyed witch with a capital B, and said that I should’ve been grateful he married me because nobody else would have.”

Anthony’s lips narrowed. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know.” She looked away from his compassionate gaze and took in a fortifying breath before she continued. “Hearing him say those things…it really hit home that he never loved me, that I was just something he wanted to win, and once he’d done that…in my heart I think I always knew he wasn’t genuine. I guess that’s why I opened a secret bank account when we married and sent all the bank statements to Mom. After he called, I started reflecting on our relationship, the sly remarks disguised as jokes that undermined my confidence, his casual disregard of me, the nights he came home late with a flimsy excuse, how he treated me in bed….”

Anthony’s brows snapped together.

“He wasn’t much for foreplay,” Mariah explained, “and when I didn’t do certain things in bed, he found other women who would.” She shook her head, the motion full of regret and irony. “I spent most of my life avoiding men like my father, only to marry and give my virginity to one. When Allegra heard what happened, she flew up to Hackensack with Gran D.”

Anthony’s brows levered upward. “That’s why she came up to see you. Kevin said so, but he didn’t know why.”

Mariah nodded. “It was one of the few times she actually tried to comfort me.”

One of Anthony’s brows climbed high. “Allegra?”

“She showed concern sometimes.”

Anthony smoothed her hair.

Mariah averted her face. “Sleeping with Terry…. after a while, I felt like a whore, and I haven’t been with a man since I left him. I don’t like the dating game and I’ve had bad luck with sex.” She shrugged. “There just didn’t seem to be any point.”

Anthony put his hand under her chin, turning her toward him. “Mariah St. Cloud.” His eyes drank her up and he captured her mouth in a swift, hard kiss. “Your luck’s about to change. If it makes you feel better,” Anthony set her away from him and stood, unfastening the button at his chest, “I’ll go first.”

Mariah sat up and stared at his fingers as they pushed buttons through the holes until the last one came undone. When he pushed the edges of his cloth shirt apart — exposing that mouth-watering, caramel chest — and slid the material down and off his arms to the floor, Mariah finally found her voice. “It’s not the same thing,” she answered over her choking, beating heart.

Anthony’s eyes had a sheen of purpose as his hands moved to Mariah’s arms, which still covered her bra. Her breath caught and she couldn’t control a flinch as he pressed her back onto the bed. Even when his warm fingers gently, but firmly, grasped Mariah’s wrists and drew them away, holding them beside her head, her first response was to squirm. His eyes never left Mariah’s, and that sand-and-cinders voice settled around her. “There’s only you and me here.” His hands sought the clasp of her bra. “No judgment, no ridicule.”

The backs of his fingers brushed against her skin and she felt the electricity of his touch. Feeling helpless to resist, Mariah’s fists bunched. When Anthony pushed aside the lacy cups of her bra, exposing her nipples to the cool air, Mariah swallowed hard and slammed her eyes shut.

Anthony fondled one small globe. Mariah’s eyes flew open and she inhaled at the contact, arching her back. Her fists unclenched and reached out to clutch his shoulders when his lips touched her with tantalizing possessiveness.

He raised his head. “You okay?”

Her cheeks warmed under the heat of his brilliant stare. “Yes. I’m not used to…being touched…there.”

Anthony’s eyes darkened with emotion. Then he inclined his head and his lips parted hers in a soul-reaching massage. Mariah raised herself to meet his kiss, her hands sliding around his neck.

As Anthony’s mouth sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl, his hands slid down her stomach to the swell of her hips, then across to the button of her jeans. Shivers of delight followed his touch and Mariah didn’t protest when his hands opened the button and pulled the zipper down. Raising his mouth from hers, he pulled away and grasped the waistband of her jeans. Mariah’s mind told her to resist, but her body wouldn’t let her. Biting her lip, she lifted her hips, allowing him to undress her as he slid the pants down her thighs, her calves. He took off her wedges and pulled the jeans over her ankles and feet, until all that remained were her panties. His eyes drank her up, caressing her softness, bathing her in appreciation.

And a part of Mariah reveled in his open admiration.

Anthony stood up and took off his shoes and socks, letting them fall where they may. Light dappled his powerful shoulders, and his eyes stayed with hers while his hands moved to the zipper of his pants. He opened them, pushing them down his strong, hair-roughened thighs to the floor, kicking them away to reveal form-fitting boxers that outlined his taut buttocks and rigid masculinity. Strong fingers delved into the waistband of his boxers, removing them to join his trousers.

Anthony came close, looking down on her, his chest heaving. Gently, he lowered himself onto the bed next to her, propping himself up on one elbow, while his hand slid across her silken belly. His eyes searched Mariah’s features, reaching into her thoughts.

Mariah studied his lean, caramel face, caressed the two crescent scars. For so long, she’d been unable to let her guard down with any man, but she could no longer deny herself Anthony’s touch. She traced her fingertip across his bottom lip.

Anthony’s tormented groan was a stirring invitation. He crushed her to him, his tongue exploring the recesses of her mouth, sending shivers of desire racing through her and his body moved, partially covering hers.

When his lips grazed Mariah’s earlobe, she couldn’t control an outcry of enjoyment. Her body writhed beneath him and she caressed the strong tendons in the back of his neck as he made a path down her throat with open mouth kisses.

She breathed in soul drenching drafts as the touch of his lips on her mouth and along her body set her aflame, and didn’t protest when his hands sought the band of her panties, skimming them off her buttocks, down her legs.

His tongue made a burning path down her ribs to her stomach while his fingers explored the soft lines of her breasts, her waist, her hips and thighs. When his warm hand cupped Mariah’s moist core, her breath quickened and she arched toward him, her eager hands touching his rock-hard shoulders.

Anthony whispered something, his breath hot against her ear, but Mariah couldn’t make out the words, her senses too distorted with rapture as his fingers circled the hood of her cleft. Then he withdrew and Mariah’s eyes snapped open when his hands slid under her hips. Disoriented, Mariah rose up on her elbows. Her eyes grew large and liquid and her stomach clenched tight when she saw Anthony’s broad shoulders between her thighs.

No. She couldn’t let him…

Anthony hooked her legs over powerful forearms, clamping his large hands around her thighs to prevent her from backing away, his golden yellow-brown eyes iridescent and riveted on her face. “Do me a favor,” he insisted. “Don’t hold back. Scream as loud as you want.”

“I-I don’t scream.”

Anthony said nothing. He just bent his head, and Mariah’s world burst in flashes of light.

“Oh, wow,” she uttered in wondrous bliss and fell back onto the bed, her eyes rolling back in her head as she gripped the covers like a lifeline with trembling fingers.

Anthony chuckled against her. Strong hands held Mariah fast as she twisted and bowed, her breasts, misting with sweat, elevated and descended with heavy breaths.

A fine shaking in Mariah’s thighs signaled the onset of her release. Her head fell back and a wail escaped her as she hurtled over the precipice. As her spasms subsided, Anthony planted a kiss to the inside of both her thighs. Then he rose over Mariah’s damp, relaxed form.

“That’s one,” he murmured before moving away. He opened the drawer of his nightstand, withdrew a condom and rolled it on.

Mariah’s sensual haze hadn’t fully cleared when she felt herself being lifted. Her mind reeled in confusion as Anthony draped her on top of him, bare breasts to male chest, her hands on his shoulders, her thighs on either side of his hips, his hardness against her heat. Large hands caressed the line of her spine, stopped at curve of her buttocks and squeezed, claiming her, leaving a trail of fire before returning to cradle her face.

Anthony drew her lips down to his, his tongue tracing their soft fullness before diving inside her mouth while he eased his hips upward an inch or two. A deep-chested groan escaped him as Mariah’s warmth surrounded him and she froze, unaccustomed to the carnal intrusion.

Anthony waited, the lines of concentration deepening along his brow and under his eyes. They clung to hers, the pupils dilated until only a ring of amber remained. His lips skimmed against hers. “Alright?” His voice was gruff, thick.

Mariah’s internal muscles relaxed and she wanted more of him. “Yes,” she breathed.

“That’s what I want.” Hands encircling her hips, Anthony lifted and seated himself higher, wringing out a cry of fulfillment from both of them. Then he shifted them to cup her behind, and began to move.

And then he talked.

For a man who didn’t speak much, he had plenty to say. He told Mariah that he would drive her crazy, what he would do to her, how often, how long, that she would enjoy every minute of it, and that she wouldn’t want him to stop.

A flame unfurled within as he guided her. Lips parted, eyes half-closed, Mariah straightened, placing her hands on his chest for balance, driving him deeper.

Perspiration dotted Anthony’s brow as they moved as one, straining toward the same goal. One hand swept from her backside to the heart of her. He angled his thumb downward, applying light pressure when he found what he was searching for.

Mariah gasped in sweet agony. Her fingers curled into his chest, and that one sound sent Anthony’s ardor into overdrive. His thrusts became more intense as they found the tempo that bound their bodies together, until Mariah’s involuntary tremors of arousal took over. Her breath came in surrendering sobs and she shattered into a million glowing stars.

The sight of Mariah succumbing to the waves of rapture, and knowing he was the cause, fired Anthony up.

He wanted her to do it again. Right now.

When Mariah drifted back to Earth she found herself on her back, still joined with Anthony as her hips embraced his. He supported his weight on his elbows, and his eyes, still black as diamonds, roved over her features. “That’s two,” he rasped. His hips flexed forward, then back.

An arrow of pleasure darted from her breasts to down below. The underlying sensuality of his words hypnotized Mariah even as she blinked with bafflement, disbelief, and arousal. Why was he counting? How was she ready for him again so soon? Her trembling limbs clung to him. “Huh?”

He held her eyes with his, framing her face within big, capable hands. “What do you want, Mariah?” he wanted to know, that deep, voice simmering with barely-checked passion… and something else that defied explanation. “Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

Mariah’s eyes expanded. “W-what about…you?”

He tunneled his fingers into her hair. “Don’t worry about me,” he reassured her, smothering his last words on her lips. Mariah’s eyelids fluttered and her arms tightened around his neck. When he sank into her, his hips mimicking the movement of his tongue, her senses reeled as if short-circuited.

His back was slick with sweat and drops beaded on his forehead, trickling down the sides of his face. Releasing her lips, Anthony lifted and transferred his weight to his hands, loosening Mariah’s arms from around his neck. When he shifted the angle of his movements, she rose to meet him in a moment of uncontrolled hunger. Her hands traveled down his chest, his waist, then reached around to grasp his buttocks.

“Lift your legs,” he said, his voice a dark rumble in his chest. Mariah raised her legs, sharpening Anthony’s sensitivity, and hers.

When his strong thumb lightly stroked Mariah’s sweet spot, a harsh cry swiftly sprang from her lips, the pleasure so pure and explosive she nearly passed out.

Anthony growled, his hips churning faster. He reared back, the tendons of his neck prominent under the skin as groans of immense gratification filled the air, and his body convulsed fiercely before he collapsed over Mariah.

#

Anthony’s face rested in the pillow between Mariah’s neck and shoulder. “That’s three,” he stated, his voice stifled by the cushion.

Mariah, feeling like a wet string, finally opened her eyes and shifted her head. Though Anthony’s arms imprisoned her, his elbows supported most of his weight. Her hands trailed up and down his moist back. “Why are you counting?”

“To see how many times I can send you over the edge,” he replied, his voice still muffled.

Her hands stopped moving, resting between his shoulder blades. “So you’re bragging?”

“Uh huh,” he affirmed, his voice muffled. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Profound satisfaction made her smile, and her hands started moving up and down his spine again “Yes,” she admitted.

“I could tell. You screamed, more than once,” Anthony said into the pillow, “and you’re a butt grabber.”

Mariah’s hands froze on the small of his back, and she was able to control a gasp, the sound a mixture of self-consciousness and incredulity. “What? I am n –”

The pillow still muted his words. “Butt. Grabber. Own it.”

Though shocked by Anthony’s revelation — and herself — Mariah felt a warm glow flow through her. Terry was wrong; she wasn’t a cold fish in bed. Being with Anthony proved it.

Anthony finally raised his head. A strong, gentle thumb caressed her lips as he stared into her eyes, and Mariah’s heart skipped a few beats as he searched her face, the expression in his gaze full of determination…and something else she couldn’t define.

Then his lids lowered, and the moment vanished. “You alright?”

She was tender, but not overly so. “I’m fine.”

He bent his head, pressing his lips to hers before rolling off the bed. Goosebumps emerged on Mariah’s arms as cool air floated over her damp skin, and she scooted under the sheet. Her eyes followed him to the bathroom, the muscles of his buttocks flexing and bunching with each step, and a knot rose in her throat.

A few minutes later Anthony joined her on the bed. He eased the sheet down to her belly, then dipped his head to kiss each breast. “How did you manage to stay a virgin until marriage?” he whispered against her skin.

Her cheeks warmed even as her body tipped toward him. “I-I just…”

His wolf eyes met her dual-colored ones. “What?”

“I heard boys talk about sex,” she admitted. “In high school there was a girl, Laura. She wasn’t pretty, but she had large breasts. She also had a clubbed foot. One day after school, I overhead a boy talking to his friend about how he’d finally got her in bed. He made fun of her foot, said her breasts were the only nice thing about her, and that he’d sleep with any girl who gave it up. She didn’t have to be pretty. That’s when I knew that most men will have sex with any female, just because she’s available. I thought if they could talk about her in such a horrible way, what would they say about me? Between my eyes and the fact that I have small breasts…I couldn’t handle the humiliation. Besides, most of those boys didn’t even want to talk to me, unless it had to do with schoolwork or they were trying to get to Allegra, so whenever one did approach me, I got suspicious.”

Anthony studied Mariah for a moment. “I would’ve talked to you, and not just to get tutoring.” His finger traced the line of her cheek and jaw.

“You would’ve been considered too cool and handsome to talk to me,” she said, even as her flesh prickled at his touch. But a trace of hurt underscored her words.

Cupping her chin, he searched her upturned face, his eyes blazing amber fire. “I was raised not to get caught up on looks, and I’ve never been one for cliques. So yes, I would’ve talked to you, even asked you out.”

His vehemence was genuine, and Mariah regretted her jibe. She hadn’t known him long, but he wasn’t superficial. Her lips twitched. “I’m sorry.”

Hearing the sincerity in her voice, Anthony’s irritation fled. His gaze, now glowing with a different kind of heat, dropped to her mouth, then climbed upward to her eyes. “From day one…your lips drove me crazy,” he revealed.

Mariah’s eyes widened in astonishment as Anthony took her mouth with the hunger of a starving man.