Need You Tonight

Not for the first time, he wished they were back at his place where he could strip her down and tuck her into his bed for the night. Wake her up with his tongue between her thighs because damn the woman was sexy when she came. It was like each time it happened, she was surprised, like she didn’t think herself capable of that passionate of a response. And for some reason, she thought she wouldn’t like kink yet had responded to his commands with beautiful capitulation. Which, of course, only made him want to find out just how out of her mind he could drive her. They’d only scratched the surface tonight.

But he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get another chance. She’d laid it all out up front, refreshing but brutal in her honesty. She’d wanted an escape tonight. She’d wanted to use him for that, and he’d been happy to oblige. Hell, the one-night fantasy had become his specialty lately. Not that he was complaining. He’d enjoyed playing the third in a few scenes with his friends’ submissives at The Ranch, the private BDSM resort he belonged to. And he’d had his fair share of casual encounters over the past few years with kinky women, as well as vanilla ones. Fun nights. Exciting flings. Wild adventures.

But in the end, the result was always the same. After the initial rush, he lost interest. Since his divorce, even women who’d been open to considering moving the relationship to a more intense level—the level he desperately craved—he couldn’t seem to muster up the desire. Too often, it felt like those women were simply agreeing to his flavor of kink because of all the fringe benefits. He’d been down that road. Nothing like finding out the girlfriend you’re tying up and flogging actually hates pain and all things kink and is only taking it because she wants you to buy her that Coach purse or bring her on that trip to Maui.

But even the women who hadn’t been motivated for the wrong reasons had lost his interest in a month or two. The lifestyles reporter at the local paper had taken to calling him the Time Share Bachelor because his relationships had ended on such a predictable schedule. He never strayed, but he never stayed either. Sometimes he wondered if his divorce had rewired him to only be capable of the temporary. So perhaps it was best for all involved that Contessa walked away from him tonight. Clean. Easy. No attachments or regrets. Everyone could look golden in a one-night stand. A flawless fantasy night for both their memory banks.

Kade sighed as he carried an armful of bowls into the kitchen to rinse them out, unable to shake his desire for more time with Contessa despite his perfectly valid internal arguments. They’d spent hours together. He’d taken her twice. It should be enough. Plus, she was vanilla for God’s sake. This wasn’t like meeting some girl at The Ranch where he could imagine all the dirty things they could try out and mutually enjoy. Contessa, despite her little glimmers of bravado, had a shyness about her, like she was almost awkward about sex. When he’d pinned her hands above her head, her eyes had gone as wide as a virgin’s on prom night. She may’ve been married, but clearly her husband hadn’t given her any more than the basics.

A damn tragedy, that. Because the kind of eager responsiveness she’d shown upstairs proved the woman was built for pleasure, starved for it. And everything in his body was giving a battle cry to be the man to feed her. But there was no way in hell he was going to chase her for the chance. He didn’t chase. Period. He’d spent too many years when he was a kid doing that crap, and it only got you humiliated. Chasing. Pining. Fantasizing about girls he couldn’t have. Only to be turned down so she could go be with the jerk who treated her like shit.

Never again. He’d learned. Girls who wanted to be chased, wanted to be in control of you. And control is one thing he’d never relinquish again.

“Need any help?”

Kade looked up from dumping the last of the food into the trash bin, finding Contessa wearing a sleepy-eyed half smile. He shook his head, his whirling thoughts calming at the sight of her. “Nah, it’s been a while since I’ve been on clean-up duty in a kitchen, but I haven’t forgotten how to do it.”

“So are you a chef?” she asked.

He smiled, amused that she hadn’t bothered to ask his position up until this point. It was a nice change of pace. Most women knew his whole resume before ever saying word one to him. “I went to culinary school, so technically, yes, I could be a chef. But that isn’t my current position. I own this place.”

And many, many others. But he didn’t need to volunteer that at this point. He kind of liked her not knowing the whole restaurant mogul aspect of his career. No matter what, it changed how people interacted with him once they knew.

“Wow, impressive,” she said, though she sounded more wary than impressed. “So you were totally cheating when you said you wouldn’t have to pay for anything. Technically, you’re paying for everything, down to the electricity keeping this light on.”

He grinned. “Are you going to convict me on a technicality?”

“Totally.”

He sighed. “Tough jury. Well, I have handcuffs in the car. Let me finish cleaning up and then you can take me in.”

She laughed. “Somehow I don’t think you’re kidding about having handcuffs.”

He sent her a sly grin but went back to rinsing off the last of the dishes. Actually, he didn’t have any in the car, but at home … At home he had enough restraints to bind her in a hundred ways and never repeat a method. “A gentleman never reveals his secrets.”

She went quiet for a while after that, and he began to regret the off-the-cuff comment. The girl had just gotten out of a marriage where her husband was keeping the biggest secret of all, and here he was joking about secrets.

He wiped his hands on a towel and turned to her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean, with your husband—”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head, cutting off his apology. “You’re fine. Truly, I wasn’t even thinking about the situation with my ex. Just about our agreement for total honesty.”

Total honesty. Like not even giving her his real first name or the scope of his job. He was doing stellar on that all around. But she was looking so pensive that he couldn’t help but walk over to her. He put his hands on her arms, rubbing the chill bumps there. “What’s on your mind?”

Her gaze slid to the right and down as if there was something eminently more interesting on the floor. “I’m trying to fight the urge to ask you a supremely embarrassing question, but one that I need an honest answer to.”

Uh-oh. That sounded like a no-win trap if ever there was one. But what was he supposed to say to that? “Well, since you’ve already declared that we’re not going to see each other after tonight, I’d say you probably have nothing to lose by asking.”

She took a deep breath, her teeth pressing into her bottom lip, and her gaze still locked on anything but him. “When I caught my husband cheating. He told me it was partly my fault, which I know is bullshit.”

“Total bullshit,” Kade agreed.

“But he said I was boring in bed,” she rushed on. “And I can’t help but wonder if maybe—”

“That fucker.”

Her attention snapped upward, surprise in her eyes.

He cupped her face in his hands. “Baby, I don’t know much about you. I don’t know your last name or what you do for a living. I don’t know if you take cream in your coffee or if you prefer tea. But I can tell you one thing for sure. There is nothing boring about you. Tonight was amazing. You were amazing. And if that idiot ex-husband of yours didn’t know what to do with a gorgeous woman and all that passion you have brewing right beneath the surface, then that’s on him.”

All the tension sagged out of her, and she closed her eyes, nodding in his hands. “Thank you.”

The soft response and her obvious relief nearly undid him. What kind of asshole made a vibrant woman like this doubt herself? He half wished her ex was here right now. Kade would let the guy watch as Kade took Contessa right in front of him, let him watch how glorious she was when given pleasure by a man who knew what he was doing.

“Don’t give his words another thought,” he said, kissing her forehead and wishing he could swipe the memory from her mind with the gesture.

“I know I shouldn’t, but it’s hard not to let doubt creep in. When you approached me tonight, I almost chickened out because I thought I might embarrass myself. I’m not that experienced. I married him so young and—”

“Contessa,” he said, frustration edging his words. “Stop.”

She blinked up at him, apparently taken aback at his change in tone.

He lowered his hands from her face, fighting the sudden urge to turn her over his knee and spank her for even giving that jerk another second of thought. “Stop doubting yourself. Inexperience does not mean boring. Boring is a woman who isn’t present with you in the moment. Boring is a woman who lies there and doesn’t participate or who isn’t open to trying new things. Boring is an attitude, not a lack of skill or experience. If you’ve got the desire, the rest can be learned. Taught.”

All it took was a good teacher and a willing student. And right now, he was feeling quite professorial.

“You think?” she said, looking unconvinced.

“Baby, nothing is sexier than a woman who wants to learn.” He moved forward, backing her into the wall, loving the little gasp she made when his burgeoning erection pressed against her. “In fact, it’s my biggest turn-on, showing a woman exactly what to do to please me.”

She wet her lips, her nerves visible right there at the surface. “Sounds like kind of a selfish way of looking at it. How to please you.”

He chuckled and slid his hand down along her hip. “Yes, but pleasing me reaps so many rewards. I always repay with interest.”

When he snuck his hand beneath her skirt and upward, she tilted her head back against the wall and groaned. “What would you teach me?”

He smiled with promise. She’d left her panties off since they’d been ruined earlier, and his fingers easily found what they were seeking. “The list is long, baby. It’d definitely take more than one night. I’m a kinky fucker.”

“Van,” she gasped, as he curled his fingers inside her, sliding deep into the slick heat.

“Want to be my student?” He pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing in slow, tight circles. “I promise lots of one-on-one attention.”

“Oh, God.” She rocked against his hand almost as if she was trying to resist the urge but couldn’t stop the movement. Her voice went breathy. “I can’t—I can’t get involved. With anyone.”

The words sounded like a plea instead of a statement. She was so close to the edge already, even after her orgasms from earlier. God, he loved how hot she ran. Her arousal coated his hand, her sweet scent filling the sterile kitchen. “I’m not asking you to date me, baby. I’m not good at that anyway. I’m offering to show you what you’re capable of, to teach you what you want to learn. To have fun.”

Her fingers twisted in his hair as she rocketed toward release with her eyes squeezed shut and her head lolling from side to side against the wall. “Van!”

“Come for me,” he said, his voice going gritty with his own need to see her explode again. “Fuck my hand and take what you know I can give you.”

Her shout was sharp and desperate as she shattered in orgasm, the sound winding through the kitchen and empty restaurant. She called his name in a pleading prayer and melted against the wall like butter on hot cast iron.

He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing deeply with his own desire pounding through his veins. God, she was something to behold when she let go. No fucking way was he going to let her get away with only tonight. He needed more of this.

More of her.

When her writhing had turned to gentle swaying, he slipped his hand from beneath her skirt and brought his fingers to his mouth. Her eyes fluttered open in time to see him savor her taste and suck his fingers clean. Her lips parted slightly, and her barely concealed shock made him want her even more. Innocence and passion—her mix of it was a potent drug to his system.

“Kiss me,” he said, a gentle command and challenge.

After only the briefest hesitation, she closed the distance between them and brought her mouth to his. He took her lips in a languid kiss, knowing she’d be able to taste her tart flavor on his tongue. He would convince her right here and now with actions and not words that she shouldn’t walk away yet, that she needed to explore this as much as he did. He would make her crave more. But right as he was deepening the kiss and pulling her against him, an acrid scent tickled his nose. He dismissed it for a moment, too wrapped up in the feel of Contessa in his arms, but soon the smell was too strong to ignore. He pulled back, alarm bells starting to ding through the growing fog of desire in his head.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Do you smell that?” He let her go and peered over his shoulder toward the kitchen.

She sniffed. “Smells burnt.”

He shook his head. That wasn’t a burnt smell. It was a burning smell. He strode toward the appliances, checking to see if an oven or stove had been left on or if a greasy towel had been left somewhere and ignited. But nothing seemed amiss. His staff was well-trained to check and double check everything for safety before closing up each night. But the smell was growing stronger.

“Van!”

He turned. Contessa pointed at the door that led out to the side hallway and exit. Dark black smoke was creeping beneath. Dread rushed through him. He closed the distance between the two of them in three long strides, grabbing her purse from the countertop and shoving it at her. “We need to get out of here. Now!”

She let him hustle her toward the door that led to the dining room, but when they swung the door open, a rush of hot, acrid smoke blew right in their faces. His eyes and throat burned with it, and Contessa started coughing beside him. “Van.”

“Get down low,” he barked, keeping a hold of her elbow. Heat shimmered in the air as they crouched down and heard the first roar of flame and crack of wood. The sound seemed to be coming from the main dining area, though it was impossible to see anything in the smoke. “Stay with me. Don’t let go. I’m going to get us to a back exit.”

Contessa was coughing hard now, unable to respond. Shit. He needed to get them out fast before she took in too much smoke. And why the fuck weren’t the sprinklers going off? Luckily, he knew the layout of this restaurant better than his own house. It was one he’d designed himself. It’d been his first baby, the one he loved the most. And now it was burning. Crawling on their hands and knees, he led Contessa through the banquet room and to an emergency exit. He hopped to his feet and shoved the door open with his hip, a wave of cool night air swooping in as he dragged her outside and into the back alley.

“Baby, talk to me,” he demanded, his heart hammering in his chest.

She’d stopped coughing and had gone heavy in his arms. He hauled her up and off her feet and carried her away from the building. Sirens wailed in the background as he laid her out on the grass in front of the flower shop across the street. Her cheeks were black with soot and her eyes were shut, but he could see her chest still rising and falling.

“Contessa, come on, baby, take a few deep breaths for me.” He tugged off his shirt and ran to a water fountain to soak the fabric. Then he hurried back to her side, his lungs still burning, and wiped the soot away from her face with the cool cloth. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re scaring me.”

She coughed, a loud hacking sound, but it was one of the sweetest Kade had ever heard.

He rolled her onto her side. “That’s it. Get that shit out.”

A fire truck sped to a halt in the street and men poured out, two heading Kade’s way and the rest going for the building. The young firefighter hustled over and knelt next to Contessa, while the other flagged down an EMS crew that pulled up behind the fire truck.

“Ma’am, we’re here to help you,” the first one said, as he started checking her over.

“She took in too much smoke,” Kade said in a rush. “We got out quickly, but there was so much smoke so fast.”

“Was there anyone else in the building?”

“No.”

The EMTs were already hurrying over with equipment and oxygen. She was going to be all right. Help was here.

Kade sank back onto the grass, relief enveloping him. Thank God.

In the background, flames licked up the side of his restaurant, engulfing and devouring his favorite location. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care at the moment. Contessa was going to be okay. The restaurant was just wood and metal and could be replaced.

“Sir, do you know this woman?” the EMT asked. “Or if she has any medical conditions or allergies I should be aware of before we take her in?”

Contessa tried to speak but she started coughing again and they put an oxygen mask over her face. She pointed to her purse. Kade grabbed for it and pulled out her wallet to dig for information. He found a medical card. “She’s allergic to penicillin and codeine.”

“And what’s her name?” the EMT asked, not even looking at Kade.

“It’s Con—” But he stopped himself when his eyes landed on the name listed on the card, his throat trying to close. “It’s Tessa McAllen.”

“Thank you.”

But Kade didn’t even hear him. Or notice another medic who came over to check and see if he needed any help. All Kade could hear were his own words repeating in his head. It’s Tessa McAllen.

Tessa McAllen.

Tess …

Everything inside him knotted—longing mixed up with a paradoxical dose of pure bitterness. For a moment, he was transported back years to a version of himself he’d tried to forget existed, to a night he’d tried to obliterate from his psyche.

“Sir, you can ride with us to the hospital or follow us there if you feel okay to drive.”

“I c-c-can drive.” What the hell? He nearly slapped his hand over his mouth, the stuttered word like the sound of breaking glass to his ears. He hadn’t flubbed a word in over a decade. He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the reappearance of the old tic.

The medic adjusted the oxygen mask on Tessa’s face. “Looks like she’s going to be fine since you both got out so quickly. But we want to get her checked out and run a few tests to be sure.”

Kade nodded absently as he stared down at Tessa. Her hair was blonde now and she was curvier, softer in the best possible way. But, of course, all those years would’ve changed things. Nothing about him resembled the boy she’d known back then either, not even his name.

She was still as beautiful as he remembered, though. And based on some of the things she’d said tonight, probably just as unattainable.

The only difference was maybe this time he could actually do something about it if he wanted to. The question was—did he want to? Last time he’d taken a risk on Tessa McAllen, his life had blown up and disintegrated around him. He didn’t need that kind of drama in his life again or a regular reminder of what he most hoped to forget.

But as he watched Tessa get loaded into the back of the ambulance, he knew there was no way he could step back and let her walk out of his life a second time. She’d said that she only wanted tonight. She’d said this was a one-time thing.

Kaden Fowler would’ve turned and gone home. That boy had been used to hearing no.

But Kade Vandergriff didn’t even know what the word sounded like.

FIVE

1996

Kaden Fowler sat in a shaded spot with his back against the grimy brick wall of Henley High’s recreation building, hoping to blend into it. The rest of the junior and senior class were either still inside the cafeteria eating or were gathered in small groups around the main yard, claiming their piece of concrete or grass and trying to impress each other.

Kaden never did either here—try to impress or eat. After one too many fatass and oink-oink comments in junior high, he’d learned to fill up at breakfast and then wait until dinner to eat again. Even after he’d shot up six inches over the last year and was more bulk than chub now, the jerkoffs who’d teased him then wouldn’t fail to remind him of his former fat-kid status. Once branded as such, it never went away. And if they didn’t pick on that, they’d go after his other obvious weakness—his stutter.

He pulled the latest Stephen King novel and his Walkman out of his backpack, putting the headphones over his ears, and turned to the place he’d marked in the book. But before the guitars could even kick in on Metallica’s “Until It Sleeps,” a lilting laugh cut through the music and carried his gaze up and across the yard. The minute his eyes landed on her, his stomach tightened into a fist of familiar longing.

Tessa McAllen twirled around, showing off some cheerleading move to her gaggle of friends. Her light brown hair fanned out around her, and the little spin made her skirt flit up a bit, revealing a golden swath of upper thigh and the edge of what looked to be pink panties.

Pink panties. Fuck. Me.

Kaden grimaced and shifted his weight, willing his body not to respond to the sight. And putting extra effort into forcing his mind not to draw in the rest of the picture of what was beneath her skirt. God, he’d imagined that so many times it probably qualified as some diagnosable mental illness. And if he let his thoughts go there now, he may as well drop out of school and go on the lamb. Because sporting a boner in the fucking schoolyard would be an unredeemable humiliation to come back from.

After she finished her demonstration, her boyfriend, Doug, slid his arm around her and gave her a discreet pat on the ass. Kaden wanted to break every bone in that fucker’s hand. It’d take care of two things at once—without that hand Doug couldn’t touch Tessa like that and he wouldn’t be able to throw a damn football again until the season was over. His daddy’s money couldn’t buy that back for him. Boo-hoo. The king would be ousted.

The morbid thought made Kaden smile.

“Hey, what the fuck are you grinning at, asshole?”

Doug’s loudmouth best friend, Quincy, had been hanging in the group with Tessa. But now the guy’s focus was solidly on him. Kaden barely resisted flipping the dude off and looked back down at his book, pretending the music was too loud for him to hear.

But, of course, the idiot couldn’t let it go. He ambled over, the group trailing behind him like a pack of dogs following a scent—in this case, the scent of potential drama and humiliation, the most enticing of all here at school.

Quincy peered down at Kaden, his bug eyes making him look like a pissed off pug. He kicked the front of Kaden’s Doc Martens. “Hey, I’m talking to you, K-K-Kaden.”

A few of them laughed at the old joke. Tessa didn’t. She had this cute little frown line between her brows that he wished he could reach over and smooth with his thumb. He didn’t think that’d be appreciated though. So instead, he shoved his book in his bag and stood, not saying a word. He’d worked hard to beat his childhood stutter, but when he was nervous, it came back like a fucking horror movie villain who wouldn’t die. So he’d learned to keep his mouth shut when at all possible.

Not that he was nervous about shit-for-brains Quincy, but Tessa … Well, he’d probably forget how to speak the English language if he tried to say anything to her. Once he was up on his feet, he was looking down at Quincy. God bless that unexpected six inches of height. At least something had gone right this year.

“So what’s the smile for, big boy?” Quincy asked, dialing up the menace in his voice, but backing up an inch. “You wouldn’t be looking at Douggie’s pretty girlfriend would you?”

Heat rushed upward, and Kaden prayed it wouldn’t make it to his face. “N-n-no.”