Dusk Until Dawn Read online

  “I’m not doing it if there’s wang grabbing.” The last Junior League bachelor auction he’d been in, before business school, before Karrie and Maya, still sent a shiver down his spine. “In fact, no. I can’t do it.”

  He didn’t want to play into his image as Miami’s sluttiest bachelor. That wouldn’t get Maya to give him a chance to be more than her friend.

  Unless she bought him... He shook that thought right out of his head. She’d promised him one night. Not a second date, much less a charity auction in front of his mom and sisters’ Junior League friends.

  “C’mon, Javi. I never ask you for anything.”

  Not true. Absolutely not true. Last week, she’d asked him to plan her loser fiancé’s bachelor party. And he hated bachelor parties. Dudes at stag parties acted like shoppers on Black Friday, but for strippers. His marriage had been the end of sex and adventure, but that’s how he knew he’d made a mistake. Karrie cheating was the cherry on top.

  His sister wasn’t going to listen to him if he said anything about Geoff. She had her heart set on a fairy tale wedding. He sighed. “Fine. When is it?”

  Carla squealed, and it was earsplitting. Maybe he did owe his future brother-in-law a bachelor party. He’d need to do a lot of shots if he had to hang with that kind of energy all the time.

  * * * *

  Maya hadn’t worn underwear the night before because she didn’t have any seductive enough for Javi. She had two options—black cotton or commando.

  That’s how she found herself at the L’Agent Provacateur in Coral Gables instead of painting all afternoon.

  She shouldn’t be here. She couldn’t afford it. But, if she had one night with Javi, she was going to make it count. Whatever she bought, she’d probably never wear it again, but she needed to make Javi’s dick explode. Well, not right away, but she wanted to make his eyes bug out. She wanted to make him as dizzy as he made her every time he came close.

  Maya wanted Javi more than she wanted a solo gallery show, which she wanted a lot. But it wasn’t all about the fact that she’d been in love with him since they’d met. Part of tonight was about revenge. She wanted to go in and make sure that he couldn’t get enough of her tonight. And then, she’d bounce, free to never think of him with a wistful pit in her stomach ever again.

  She stopped short while looking through teddies and bustiers on a rack when she saw a picture of one of the models that had been draped all over Javi. She must have pulled a mean face because the saleswoman chose that moment to step over to her.

  “Can I help you find something?” The saleswoman looked sleek and expensive, like someone who belonged in the lingerie lining the walls.

  Maya’s immediate reaction—which she luckily quelled—was to sneer at the woman. Between having brown skin and tattoos, she was followed in stores pretty frequently in New York. But she reminded herself that this wasn’t a department store; shit here was fancy and so the salesladies really did want to help.

  Besides, she looked nice.

  “Well, I have an event.” Maya wasn’t quite sure how to say that she needed special one-night stand underpants that weren’t too expensive so it wouldn’t be too painful to throw them in the trash come morning.

  The saleswoman—Jane, her nametag said—pointed to the other side of the boutique. “We have supportive garments on the other side of the store—”

  “Oh, no, I don’t have that much to support,” Maya said. When Jane’s eyes widened in horror, she realized that she’d grabbed her own boobs to demonstrate her lack of bust. “Sorry. No, I meant that I need something that’s meant to be seen, but not in a gross hookery way, just a ‘you’re an idiot to have passed this up that one time kind of thing.’”

  Jane narrowed her gaze in concentration and a moment stretched out. Maya became sure that Jane was some sort of underwear savant who had encyclopedic knowledge of exactly what bits of lace, satin, and metal would be appropriate for any occasion.

  Jane still hadn’t broken her trance when another customer walked into the store—a spritely redhead.

  “Jane, I’m in need,” the redhead said.

  The saleswoman held up one finger. “Carla, do you remember that set I sold you last week? The pink one?”

  Carla, the redhead, glided over and looked Maya up and down. Maya wanted to cross her arms or make a sarcastic remark, but she reminded herself to breathe and remember that not everyone was a malevolent prick who needed to be pushed away with as much violence as possible.

  Carla examined, took in her tattoos and her eyes lit up. Who knew that lingerie could be this exciting?

  “Yes, it would be perfect for her in teal. Do it.” Carla grabbed one of the corsets off the rack in front of Maya and said, “Oh, and I’m obviously going to need this in black and white. Put it on my mom’s account pretty please. I’m tapped out.”

  Jane nodded. “Good thing you got you got your honeymoon supply before your fiancé put a kibosh on your fun.”

  “Whoever this fiancé dude is, he sounds like a dumbass,” Maya said.

  When Carla turned pink, Maya thought she’d put her foot in it. Like usual. Shocked the shit out her when Carla nodded. “When it comes to fine underwear, he’s not very forward thinking.”

  “He’d probably rather see you out of it,” Maya said.

  Carla sighed. “One would think, but that’s why I’ve been on a panty-buying spree. See if I can drum up some interest. But I think he’s really tired. He’s been working really hard, and wedding planning with my mom has been a bear. She’s now got two to plan and very little lead time with my sister’s.”

  Maya wasn’t used to people being so friendly and open. Not in Miami and definitely not back home in New York. But she didn’t want to seem aloof, so she said, “I never keep them around long enough to find out what they’re like when they’re stressed.”

  “Whoever teal merry widow guy is, you’re going to have a hard time getting rid of him. With your complexion and tattoos, it’s going to look bananas.”

  Maya smiled at the genuine compliment. She didn’t get many of those. By the time she walked out of the store, she felt uplifted. And not because of the very expensive new bra.

  Chapter 5

  Javi paced up and down the floor of his loft. Maya was late. Maybe she wasn’t coming, and she’d only agreed to this in order to show him how much he’d hurt her. Turnabout. Fair play. That kind of thing. Regret laced its way around his chest.

  He really hoped that she would still show up. Something about Maya coming back now was destined, as if he’d finally mended fences with his family—or started to—and now she was back so that he could fix what was broken between them.

  And he wanted to fix their friendship almost as much as he wanted to fuck her. Almost, but not quite.

  His dick felt like steel rebar hanging between his legs, and his brain wouldn’t stop thinking of reasons that she wouldn’t come.

  Maybe she didn’t want him anymore. Maybe she changed her mind because of Graciela’s bullshit. Maybe this was how she would punish him.

  It might be better if she didn’t show up at all. He hadn’t even been inside her and she had busted through his psyche with a few kisses and far too fleeting touches. Once they’d fucked, he might be catatonic. He couldn’t wait to find out, and she was torturing him by being late.

  By not showing up, she would be punishing them both, because she’d kissed him back. And she was true to her word.

  Just when he thought about picking up the phone and demanding her ETA, threatening to comb the entire city to find her, someone knocked on his door.

  When he looked through his peephole, she was wringing her hands and shifting on her feet. Nervous. Like this meant something to her. As if she wasn’t trying to punish him with a taste of something he now needed more than anything.

  He yanked the door open, and pulled her inside the loft. As soon as the door slammed shut, he pressed her body against it with
his own. He couldn’t stand any more air between them.

  When he took her mouth, she bit into his bottom lip, which heated him even more. He wanted nothing more than to devour her, but that wouldn’t do. He needed to seduce her out of this “one night” bullshit. And, if he still knew anything about his erstwhile friend, he wouldn’t be able to do with lust that bordered on barbarism.

  So, he stepped back enough to read the look on her face, but not enough to let her go. Her body jerked when he did so, and she almost slid down the wall until he pinned her there with his hands on her shoulders.

  The look in her eyes said that she was as affected by this thing between them—a thing that had taken on a life of its own and threatened to consume them. If he couldn’t get her out of his system, she would destroy him forever. Not like the divorce had. He’d had a bit of a temper tantrum about that. Having Maya living in his veins for much longer would make him into a different man entirely.

  She was salvation and destruction, all in one package.

  * * * *

  Maya was so fucked, so fucked, and not in the fun way. The way that she’d been anticipating since the last time she saw him. No, she was fucked in the same way that her mom had been the instant she’d fallen under her father’s spell. There was nothing she could do to stop it. She could only manage it and put it in its place.

  One night.

  When she recovered from the kiss—no, the full-frontal assault—Javi had laid down on her as soon as she walked through the door, she jerked against his hold on her. She couldn’t let him hold her down, get under her skin. If she did that, she’d be fucked and lost at the same time. She’d be a goner, like her mother. She’d belong to him to use and abuse and discard faster than she would care to admit.

  No. She had to steer the boat back to someplace that she could control.

  “Move.” It came out harsher than she’d intended, but they had the right effect. Javi backed up as if she was a wild animal. His whole demeanor changed from the conqueror to the conquered.

  That change should have thrilled her, but it didn’t. Still, she wasn’t ready for the kind of rampage that Javi’s kiss wanted to run, through the walls that she had to keep up with him, especially with him.

  “Take off your pants.” She made a motion toward the wool slacks that showed every inch of his hard on. It made her mouth water, but she wouldn’t be putting him in her mouth until he’d spent a good long time on his knees. For now, she wanted to take a good look at what she’d bought and paid for with one night—and a piece of her soul.

  “You first.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not how this is going to go. Not until I say. Now. Take. Off. Your. Pants.”

  His mouth kicked up in a wicked grin that made her skin flush and her panties soak even more. Her very expensive panties that made her feel too vulnerable for his eyes just yet. He paused, but then he obeyed.

  “Your wish.” He pulled off his shirt with one hand, over the back. Fucked.

  “If my wish was my command, your pants would be off and you would be on your fucking knees thanking me for showing up here.” Her voiced cracked a little on the edges, and she hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

  “You like it like that? Should I call you ‘mistress?’”

  No. She did not like it like that. At least, not always. She knew that if she let him give her what she liked, how she liked it, she would never ever escape him. She would camp out in his bedroom and he wouldn’t be able to make her leave.

  That was unacceptable. They both knew that she would never be the kind of girl he could take to charity events; she could never be a proper mother to his children. She would never fit in with his sisters, and his parents would never accept him being with a dark brown Boricua from the actual ghetto with a murderous con man for a father.

  It wouldn’t happen. She wasn’t his type. The way he looked at her told her that he found her crazy sexy.

  He unbuckled his pants and pushed them to the floor. She made no move to take off the silk dress she’d pulled on. The one that she was sure betrayed her diamond-hard nipples.

  No one who sat at a desk all day had thighs like that. He must still run and lift like he did in grad school. He looked like a classical statue, except for the hair. He was hairy everywhere. She took her time looking him up and down. And, to his credit, he stood there and took her scrutiny—a man utterly sure of his appeal and willing to wait for her.

  Her gaze caught on the bulge in his black boxer briefs. Of course it did, how would it not? She must have looked there for almost thirty seconds. He cupped his hand over his cock and squeezed. Her core squeezed at the same time, and she her knees almost gave out.

  “You make me so holy shit hard that I couldn’t walk toward you and rip that dress off if I tried.” His voice was scary-desperate. Something she’d never heard on him before.

  “Good. I want you to stay put.” She decided to punish him by making him wait. She took a stroll around the perimeter of his condo, staying out of his reach. It fit him. Spare, industrial, but everything top-of-line luxurious. She dropped her purse on the couch and ran her hand across the fabric. No leather for Javier. He would want something soft against his skin that wouldn’t stick to sex-damp body parts.

  That was the problem. She knew this man too well. That’s why having him seemed like the most important thing ever. That’s why this felt like some sort of wedding night and not a one-night stand.

  “Leave your boxers on.” She had her back to him. She didn’t look at him as she pulled her dress over her head and placed it, carefully, on her bag. She heard his sharp intake of breath and a grumbled curse that almost made her laugh out loud.

  A surge of power charged up her spine. She could tell him exactly what she wanted him to do, and he would do it. That power made some of her anxiety over the fallout from tonight dissipate.

  She walked toward his kitchen; she’d been so keyed up after that kiss that she hadn’t noticed the take-out bags on the kitchen counter. She passed him from behind and brushed a hand against his cotton-covered behind.

  “You were going to feed me?”

  “Of course. I’ll take care of you however you want.”

  She liked that, too much. Him taking care of her made her chest ache for this to be real.

  “I don’t want food. I can get food all on my lonesome.” She didn’t need him to take care of her. She needed his head between her thighs, tasting her. She needed him not to forget that she had the power now. The power to give in to their chemistry and the strength to walk away once it was over, unshaken and unbruised.

  She didn’t want to punish him, precisely; she wanted him to know that he didn’t control her just by existing in the same air space anymore. She needed the mystique to be gone. She needed the real, sweaty, awkward sex thing to supplant all the fantasies she’d built up over the years.

  She sat up on his cold concrete counter top. Javi had followed her into the kitchen and caged her in with both hands at her hips. “Cold? Let me get you a blanket.” As soon as he started to shift back towards the couch, she grabbed his wrist. Any cold she felt was instantly gone.

  She looked at their skin together. Her fingers weren’t that much darker than his. A person couldn’t tell that they were so far apart in social status and everything that came with it from looking at their skin together. But that wasn’t what mattered.

  “I don’t need this to be comfortable, Javi.” She wasn’t a pain slut or anything, but she wanted to feel everything with Javi. Not in her heart, she couldn’t give him that. But she wanted scraped knees and his fingerprints in her thighs.

  She wanted evidence that she could beat him at his own game. And she wanted to forget him in time with the fading marks.

  He jerked against her when she leaned in and nipped at his jaw. He’d shaved down to the stubble; he looked younger. The same one she’d loved from a distance. She wished she hated that face, but she didn’t. />
  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

  “Too fucking late.”

  His jaw set at her harsh tone, and his abdomen rippled under her fingers, as she ran one paint-stained fingertip over each defined muscle.

  He leaned in and his lips touched the skin behind her ear. The shock of having him touch her intimately, somewhere he never would touch just a friend made her fingers flex involuntarily. He notice and laughed.

  “I did hurt you, and I’m sorry, mi cielo.” He licked a trail down the side of her neck, until he got to the strap of her bra. “But you wouldn’t wear something like this for me if you didn’t want this to be good.” He snapped the strap—just slightly—by pulling with his teeth and releasing it.

  She let go of his wrist and leaned back until she could look him in the eye. “You don’t know what will be good for me, Javi. You might call me ‘your heaven,’ but you put me through hell.”

  His eyes turned from grass green almost to black. Like he was angry. Was he mad at her for saying it? For admitting he’d hurt her? For saying out loud that loving him had sucked? It had been painful, and she didn’t want to go there again.

  He lowered his lips to her breast bone and lingered there. Her heart tried to escape her chest. She wanted to touch his face. Instead, she gripped his hair and pulled his mouth up to hers. She didn’t want to talk about the past anymore. She wanted him inside her as soon as possible.

  “Fuck me. That’s how you can make it up to me. Don’t make love to me. Quit with the endearments. Fuck me until I forget you’re an asshole.”

  He closed the distance and kissed her. Any illusion that she had total control over this beast of a man shattered as he fucked her mouth with his tongue. She could feel her lips swelling under his and her pussy aching for him. Before he’d treated her like she was the skittish animal, and now they were both clawing and rubbing and devouring each other.

  She felt it creeping across her skin, wherever he touched—madness. She was out of control, and she loved it.

  She wasn’t sure how she ended up naked and wrapped around an equally naked Javi as he carried her over to the couch and didn’t much care. She wanted as much of her skin touching his as possible.