A jagged streak of lightning brought about a loud thunder boom that revealed how close the storm was getting, and she jumped. If it weren’t for the fact Adrian had his own demons riding him, she would track him down and push for another forgetful encounter. She placed her half-eaten meal on the side table next to her chair and scooped Tink up to cuddle on her lap, curling her legs under her. The storm just growled over the next few hours while she watched television, not unleashing its full fury yet. She nodded off with the cat a warm weight against her quivery abdomen.

  The howling wind woke her sometime later, the room having grown pitch-dark. Tink jumped down as Sophie fumbled for the light switch on the lamp next to her, only to knock the plate onto the floor. Remembering the leftover food, she flicked on the light and swore at the mess. Not wanting to draw bugs by leaving the scraps in her trash, she scooped the mess onto the plate and took it downstairs to the kitchen trash. The doors were closed to the other bedrooms, the only sound in the dim hall the heavy rain when the skies opened up as she reached the stairs. Nerves sent her dashing down the steps, grateful for the nightlights left on throughout the first floor.

  Sophie discarded the food and put the plate in the dishwasher, her fear of storms gripping her by the throat, seeing lightning flash outside the den wall of windows as she headed toward the stairs. The noise and eerie shadows dancing on the walls tempted her to take the elevator, but she couldn’t chance the electricity going out. She sprinted upstairs, out of breath by the time she reached the landing and a series of thunderclaps rattled the windows and the last of her composure. She turned toward her room only to halt, frozen, her skin crawling at hearing the ghostly whisper of her name.

  “Sooophie.”

  With a cry of uncontrollable fear, she made the only decision her terror-filled head found possible and ran to Adrian. Spinning around, she shook with nausea, her heart pounding hard enough to burst through her chest. She raced toward the third-floor staircase, passing the closed doors to the two bedroom suites.

  “Sooophie.”

  Sobbing, she was halfway up the narrow, dark stairwell when her claustrophobia kicked in and turned her breathing shallow. Light headedness assailed her, halting her flight to gasp for air. The door to the stairwell creaked open, galvanizing her into moving. She burst toward Adrian’s door as soon as she reached the top, the heavy treads and heavier breathing following her up still roaring in her head. With the storm now raging full force, she prayed Adrian could hear her pounding and lifted her hand to continue only to meet air and then his bare chest as he flung it open.

  “Sophie?”

  Shaking with unreasonable fear, Sophie struggled to swallow past the lump lodged in her throat and failed. She concentrated on his wide, smooth shoulders and the black, springy curls sprinkled across his muscled chest that tapered into a thin line down his ridged abdomen before disappearing past the unsnapped waist of his jeans. She lifted her eyes from his bare feet back up to his scowling face, admitting she was in deep trouble when she found both as sexy as the rest of him. He was a big, dominating man, a hard man both physically and emotionally who was way out of her league, yet here she stood, needing him with a desperation born of both terror and grief.

  Another silver, jagged streak of lightning struck at that moment, so bright it lit up his room from the wide windows behind him for a brief second before cloaking it in darkness again, the thunder that came on its heels shredding what was left of her frayed nerves. The hall was quiet except for her labored breathing, so maybe she had imagined the eerie voice whispering her name and then someone following her. It could easily have been the howling wind playing tricks with her mind and the force of the storm rattling the house scaring her on the stairs.

  “Sophie, what the hell is wrong?” Adrian grabbed her wrist and yanked her inside then took a quick look around the hall before slamming the door shut and locking it. “Is it the storm or something else?”

  His rough voice jarred her as much as his snug hold on her wrist. She shook her head, confused about what sent her running to him, whether it was real or imagined, and frightened of both possibilities.

  “I’m not sure. The sounds…” She trembled, shaking her head, unable to look away from his turbulent gaze, the tight line of his mouth, or his thick, tanned neck. “I thought I heard a voice, someone…never mind. I must have been mistaken, but...” Sucking in a deep breath, she placed her free hand on his warm chest, unable to help herself, the fiery-hot need pumping through her veins, or the desperate ache for his brand of forgetfulness. “Please, don’t send me away.”

  “Fuck,” he swore, backing her against the door. He didn’t sound or appear happy as he pressed all those hard muscles along her quivering body. Her pulse spiked as he leaned down and bit her lower lip, the sting spiraling her arousal even higher. “You want to stay?”

  His warm breath wafted across her lips, and she nodded with such vigorous fervor, her forehead hit his chin. He swore again then chuckled, placing his free hand against the door, next to her head, his face so close to hers their noses bumped. She couldn’t help but lose herself in the swirling tempest of emotions in his gunmetal eyes.

  He released an exasperated breath and said, “Fine, under one condition.”

  “What?” she asked, ready to agree to anything so long as he took her over and she didn’t have to think about anything except obeying his commands.

  “Afterward, you tell me what happened, or what you think happened that put that look on your face. Yes?”

  “Yes.” Anything, just…touch me.

  “Remember that.” Stepping back, he tugged her over to his bed and prodded her to sit with his hands on her shoulders before he transferred them to his zipper. “Are you good with oral?” he rasped, his cock springing free into his hand.

  Licking her lips, she couldn’t look away from his seeping slit or refrain from watching the slow glide of his palm up and down his thick girth. “Doing it, yes, but I don’t have much experience.” She lifted her eyes up to his face, admitting candidly, “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  An indefinable emotion crossed his face before he replied, “Don’t worry, you won’t.” Cupping the back of her head, he urged her mouth down to his smooth crown.

  Sophie wanted to taste Adrian in the worst way, to feel his mushroom cockhead bumping her throat as she took him deep. There was no fear, not even a hint of anxiety as she bent, opened her mouth, and swept her tongue over his crown to taste his essence, savoring his pre-cum sliding down her throat. With his hand holding her head, he stayed in control, leaving her free to indulge without worry. She dipped lower and closed her lips around his heavy erection, enjoying the way his size stretched her lips and filled her mouth. Aching for the burn of his thick, long cock sliding inside her pussy, stretching and filling her the same way, drew a shiver of pleasure.

  When her nose bumped his hand at the base, she pulled up slowly, swirling her tongue around and around, pausing to scrape her teeth over the bulging, pumping veins before traveling back up to his cap as he groaned above her. Sophie basked in the strange contentment of pleasing him, of accomplishing such a feat without bad memories intruding.

  “You’re more talented than you let on. Suck a little harder now… ahh, that’s it, baby.”

  Bobbing her head up and down put a strain on her neck and upper shoulders, but his approval made the discomfort worth it. The only thing that could make this scene better would be if she were naked, could feel his eyes and hands on her as she pleased him. As if he’d read her thoughts, he released his grip on his cock and placed his hot hand on the inside of her thigh then inched up, sliding her nightshirt past her hips.

  “You’re wet,” he pointed out, running a finger over her thong.

  Since there was nothing she could say to that obvious fact, she sucked harder on his silky flesh, enjoying every second of servicing him.

  “Enough, Sophie.” Adrian punctuated his demand by pulling out of her clasping lips and giving her shoulders a light push that sent her bouncing back onto the bed. “One more chance to say no and return to your room,” he said, widening her knees with his legs and covering her breasts with his large hands over her nightshirt.

  “I’m fine. Don’t stop.”

  Chapter Nine

  He was a fucking obsessed, crazy moron.

  A better man wouldn’t take advantage of her vulnerable state, the fear and sadness tearing away at her. A better man would offer her comfort, a safe haven from the storm, and a shoulder to lean on if she so chose. A better man would keep his lust in check and his own fragile emotions guarded and get to the bottom of what else had sent her running to him tonight.

  Too bad he wasn’t a better man.

  Adrian tasted her mouth, those soft, plump lips opening at his prodding, welcoming his tongue as he explored every inch of her mouth. When she moaned and arched upward, her soft breasts flattening against his bare chest, her nipples tight, stiff points stabbing him through her shirt, he knew she was onboard with this, and probably about as happy with the inevitability of this moment as he was.

  Adrian slid his mouth down her arched neck and one hand under her top to grip the thin strap of her thong wrapped around her hip. With a nip right where her neck and shoulder met, he ripped the scrap of material off and tossed it aside. He chuckled when her hips shifted under his weight.

  “Want it rough, do you?” he whispered in her ear, pressing his pelvis down to still hers.

  “I want it any way you care to give it to me.”

  The candid admission, spoken in a hushed rush, sent a lightning bolt of heat straight to his cock, the electric charge matching that of the jagged snap splitting the dark night outside the window. “You should really be careful what you say, Sophie, and who you say it to.”

  “Why?” She sank her teeth into his neck, and he jerked, the sharp sting as darkly pleasurable as his thoughts.

  “Because my bark is not”—he grabbed her wrists and hauled her arms above her head, shackling them in one hand—“worse than my bite.” With his other hand, he shoved her top up and squeezed one plump breast then dipped his head to pull the tip up into an elongated point using his teeth.

  She whimpered, pushing her breast toward his face, a silent plea for more he couldn’t resist. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh as he gave her other nipple the same sharp tug. Her just-as-soft-and-plump folds slid over his bare cock, the thin strip of pubic hair right above her slit tickling his cockhead.

  Her breathing hitched and grew labored. “I’ll risk it. Please, Adrian.”

  “Sir,” he corrected, falling back into Dom mode with ease despite his long absence from any sexual activity or her innocence with the lifestyle.

  She frowned in confusion. “What?”

  “That’s my correct form of address when we’re engaged in any sexual scene.”

  “I’ll try to remember but give no promises. Now, are you going to do more than talk?” Her breathless tone held a hint of demand as she lifted her knees to cradle his hips before her face paled from a booming series of thunderclaps and the wind rattled the house.

  Adrian slid his hand under her and gripped her buttock as hail pelted the windows and the lights flickered, her muscles quivering against his body. “Close your eyes, and I’ll give you a different storm to concentrate on.”

  Slamming her eyes shut, her breath came in gasps as he dragged his cock through her swollen, damp slit then released her hands to rear up and look down at his glistening cap. Grabbing a condom off the bedside table, he sheathed his cock, her hands seeking a desperate hold on his shoulders. Unable to resist the pink swath beckoning to him from between her spread labia, he pushed through the snug entrance, her slick heat closing around him like a tight glove. Velvet-soft folds hugged him with a welcome suction around his rigid flesh as he worked to loosen her taut muscles to accommodate his size.

  “Jesus, you’re tight. How long has it been?”

  “A while,” she answered without opening her eyes, crossing her legs around his lower back.

  Pulling back, he asked again, needing to know. “How long?”

  Straining against his descending invasion, she hurried to say, “Since Kasey.”

  Adrian stilled with his shaft buried half in and half out of her body. “How long, Sophie?”

  “She was diagnosed in January, died in early April.” Her eyes snapped open. “But I haven’t been with anyone since she was conceived. Okay?”

  Every muscle went taut. He had buried Nicole last April. Coincidence or fate? He didn’t believe in either, at least, he never had before.

  He owed her the truth for her stark honesty. “Since two months before Nicole died in April.”

  Without another word, he surged inside her and proceeded to fuck her like a possessed demon had taken over his body and head. Stroking inside her clutching depths, he groaned with the pleasure of her nipples burning his chest, her ragged breathing harsh against his neck. Her slick muscles milked his cock, the convulsive grips sucking his cum from his balls way too soon. Not yet ready for this to end, Adrian forced himself out of Sophie’s snug hold, flipped her over, and dragged her hips up with her knees braced at the edge of the bed as he stood behind her.

  Sophie cried out with the return of Adrian’s rough possession, relishing each deep stroke that shook her body, every ramming thrust that threatened her composure and drove her insane with lust. The sudden series of painful swats burned across her buttocks; the heated agony drawing more cream to coat his pistoning cock. Quaking from the perfect torment to help her forget her grief and terror, she rippled around his steely shaft, the raging storm outside matching the tempest brewing deep inside her core. Never had she experienced such need coiling through her, winding her up for something she couldn’t define. Fearing where this might leave her once she wound down from the euphoric high didn’t prevent her from enjoying the brutal pounding of his groin against hers, building to a crescendo of bursting pleasure.

  Muffling her screams with her face in the bed, she quaked from the onslaught of body-consuming pleasure that started in her spasming pussy and exploded to encompass her whole body. She climaxed twice before registering his slow withdrawal from her clasping muscles, moaning in regret when he slipped free of her convulsing pussy. He palmed her sore cheeks, stirring the inflamed throbbing, then slid his hands along her back to knead her shoulders still pinned to the bed.

  “That feels good,” she murmured in drowsy contentment from the small pulses of lingering pleasure still traveling throughout her body.

  “This?” He dug his fingers into her shoulder muscles and his thumbs along her tense neck muscles. “Or this?” Taking one hand, he stroked her damp seam using one finger.

  “Both,” she stated with a groan, shifting her hips.

  “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

  Sophie collapsed on the bed as he moved away. She guessed he was cleaning up in the bathroom as she couldn’t hear much over the storm that no longer troubled her. With her body humming and all of her senses otherwise engaged, she didn’t have the energy to fret over the inclement weather. Her eyes drifted shut for just seconds before he returned and placed a warm washcloth between her legs.

  “Relax,” he ordered, pressing a hand on her lower back when she started to rise in mortification.

  “I can make it to the bathroom to do that,” she protested even though his attention was so soothing, she didn’t really want to move.

  “I’m sure you can, but you don’t have to. Tell me about your daughter.”

  The abrupt change of topic threw her off guard, and she said the first thing that popped into her head. “She was my life, then she died.”

  Adrian ran the cloth down the inside of her legs, the warm caress easing her tense muscles. “Everyone hears losing a child is the worst kind of loss. I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer such a tragedy.” When he rolled her over, she got her first look at his entire nudity, and if her heart wasn’t thumping with agitation, she would enjoy the view. He must have read her face correctly because he said, “You don’t want to talk about it, so tell me about earlier, what happened to send you up here. It wasn’t just the storm.”

  Sophie’s breath hitched as she recalled the eerie voice whispering her name. But she must be mistaken. The only people in the house were the guys, and she couldn’t think of a reason why one would do such a thing. It had to have been the wind playing tricks on her.

  Shaking her head, she lifted her hands to his chest, sifting her fingers through the light sprinkling of crisp, black hair. “I let my paranoia get the better of me is all.” She trailed one hand down his ridged abdomen to run her fingers over his cockhead, her eyes on his as she asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

  Grasping her wrist, he lifted her arm above her head and held it there, his face and eyes going hard. “I want you to tell me exactly what happened to scare you into running to me, whether you believe it or not.”

  Sophie’s emotions were too raw from the events of the last two hours to fight him, and her vulnerable state of nakedness didn’t help. Plus, she owed him for indulging her. She could see on his face, both last night and tonight, that he didn’t want to cross this line. He had enough to cope with without starting something with an employee, but God help her, she was glad he’d given her something else to dwell on besides her loss. Feeling like an idiot yet wanting to get it over with, she gave him what he wanted.

  “It’s kind of a blur, but the lights kept flickering when I returned my plate to the kitchen, and when I got upstairs, I grew uneasy, as if there were eyes on me. You know that odd feeling, as if someone’s watching you.” He nodded without appearing skeptical, so she continued. “I thought I heard a voice, just a whisper, saying my name in the hall, and again in the stairwell. But I started to panic in there – I don’t like closed, tight places, especially in the dark.” And don’t I sound like a neurotic basket case? Her face heated, and she looked away from his probing gaze, yanking on her arm, unprepared for the out-of-place thrill that shot through her. Goose bumps popped up along her skin, and a yearning for more of his brand of forgetfulness took hold. She lifted her eyes to his face, her legs shifting under the weight of his hips and thighs. “It was just the wind, Adrian,” she asserted, quivering at the dark rage etched on his face.