Dark Daze (5 page)

“Shit.” Ian turned, like a six-year-old boy
afraid of the boogeyman, and raced to the house with Buster at his
side. He stumbled over the steps. His knees crashed into the edge
of the stair, sending sparks of pain through his kneecaps. He
scrambled to his feet and through the door. Once inside, he leaned
against the solid wood, sweat covering his forehead and palms, and
took deep, gulping breaths.

When Ian’s breathing had slowed, he shook his
head to clear it. Had he actually been fleeing from the
boogeyman…the shadows and his own imagination? It had been a long
time since he’d behaved that way, and he was a little ashamed of
himself for his weakness.

He’d crackled.

Two long strides took him to the window.
Please God, don’t let anyone be standing there with wide eyes and
an open mouth. He peered out, and the road was empty as far as the
eye could see.

Ian’s muscles twitched one last time then
relaxed. He went into the bathroom to take a shower and clean the
lingering sweat and fear from his skin. Otherwise, his date would
take one look—or sniff—and go running. As he shut the door to the
small bathroom, Buster sat in the entryway, keeping vigil against
the shadows beyond.

The wooden face of Amanderos nestled among
the trees near Apple Valley. Brie hadn’t been inside before, but
the idea of a Mexican/Italian bar and grill that booked metal bands
on Saturday nights had always intrigued her. Her date choosing this
place, of all places, intrigued her even more. A traditional guy
with a wild streak, what an entertaining concept.

She moved through the lantern-lit room and
sat at the bar. The drawn shades gave the illusion of evening as
she searched the faces. They hadn’t exchanged descriptions, and
Mandy’s sole account had been of his great butt. Fat lot of help
that would be. She glanced at her watch: a minute after six.
Several men sat alone in the crowded restaurant. The blond at the
bar held his i-com and smiled intimately at the table. He wasn’t
looking for someone. The person he spoke with was his love.

A short, red-haired man in a business suit
waved to the bartender and told him he wanted the special. Nope. A
sandy-haired man sat in a nearby booth, watching her. She smiled
when she caught his eye. He nodded to her. She flipped her long
hair back from her shoulder, smoothed her skirt, and stopped,
halfway off the chair.

A man walked into the room, and the air fled
in his presence replaced by crackles of electricity. His broad
chest and muscular arms didn’t scream realtor, but something drew
her to him like gravity to the earth, though she wasn’t
intentionally using her intuition. He had a masculine power in the
swing of his arms and shoulders. It struck her as extremely erotic.
Her lungs quaked, and she drew the first breath in far too
long.

For a second time, she smoothed her skirt
over her round thighs, desperately hoping he would like her new
dress. Strange that she should wish he liked her before she even
knew who this man was.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was the most
gorgeous man she’d ever seen. His nose was a touch too narrow, and
his eyes a bit too large, but Mandy was right. He had something
special, something luminous about him. It buried her so she
couldn’t move, even after her i-com began to ring in her purse,
called by the one he lifted to his ear.

When he walked over to her and smiled, she
almost dropped back into the chair. The smile. The one from her
dreams. She didn’t have premonitions, so it couldn’t be, but it
seemed like it was there, in the flesh. She grinned her brightest
and gestured toward a nearby stool.

Oh God. She would have to lie to him. They
would have a relationship, and she would have to lie, and it would
end horribly. But this would be worse than all the others, because
she knew him already. Her heart, or perhaps her soul, shouted it.
Tingles of electric heat flowed along her arms as he moved closer.
Her body was certainly acting as if it belonged to him.

She cleared her throat, praying her face
didn’t show her thoughts. “I assume you’re Ian. I’m Brie.”

He stared and his mouth worked, but nothing
came out. Yes, he liked the dress, which hugged her assets even
better than she’d expected. She glanced away at a nearby plant to
give him a moment to collect himself. He cleared his throat.
“Uh…yes. It’s nice to meet you.”

Brie hadn’t seen him in so long. The
excitement whirring in her chest. Wait. She’d never seen him,
nevertheless she wanted nothing more than to sit and reminisce with
him like old friends. But they weren’t old friends, and they might
not have a future.

He sat, his jaw still somewhat slack. Brie’s
smile widened. Perhaps he felt the same intense amazement she did.
Her gaze traveled his strong jaw, and exhilaration prickled her
skin at the idea of making him as flustered as he’d made her.

Ian closed his mouth. “That’s fantastic. I
must look like a fish chasing its next meal.” He made gasping
motions.

“I’m glad you came out to meet me. You’re
pretty funny. I like that in a man.” Brie toyed with her necklace,
drawing the locket up and down the gold chain, and her stomach did
an impressive acrobatic flip when his eyes followed the
movement.

His cologne, the scent of spices and trees
mixed with some masculine aroma, wafted to her nose. She bit at the
inside of her lip and breathed it in. Her body warmed, and she
shifted a bit closer.

 ”Your i-com and mine are programmed for
the same ring: island sounds. I love it, makes me think of a
vacation I just have to take some day.” His cheeks pinked in the
most adorably innocent way.

She sat on the stool next to him. “Oh? Oh
yes.”

“Fantastic.” He closed his eyes and put a
hand to his head. “What a great conversationalist. Here I am trying
to impress you, and I’m coming out with some brilliant comments.”
Thick lashes shaded his beautiful green eyes, when his gaze met
hers. Her heart skipped a beat or two before resuming an irregular
pattern. “You have me searching for intelligent things to say and
coming up short. I mean, you’re the stuff epic poems are written
about.”

Her face warmed. She’d received compliments
in her life, but this beat “you’re so gorgeous” by a mile. And it
wasn’t a line. She didn’t always appreciate her gift, but she was
grateful for it now. She could sense his honesty. Her mouth
wouldn’t work, her hand froze on the chain, and somewhere deep
inside she began to tingle in a familiar, though long forgotten
way. A way that made her ache.

“So, uh, what do you do?” His hand dropped
from his head to cover those eyes as though he’d made a mistake,
and Brie was sad to see those amazing flecks of gold go.

“I’m a student at Cal State working toward my
Masters in Psychology. Sometimes I volunteer at a local shelter for
the homeless in Victorville, and I hope to offer free counseling to
underprivileged women while I finish school.” Brie sat back and
crossed her legs, hoping she looked more confident and relaxed than
she felt.

“I’ve volunteered at that shelter
before.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Last Thanksgiving.”

They talked about the facility and swapped
stories, and after a while, the words came easier. After twenty
minutes, they’d ordered an appetizer and two colas, and gone
through the small talk, which usually preceded a meaningful
conversation. She liked hiking, rock and roll, and Dr. Pepper. He
liked gardening, classical, and orange juice. They both loved to
read. Everything he said seemed so familiar. There were no
surprises. Almost as if they knew each other, but didn’t realize
it. Best of all, his honest and shy demeanor was refreshing,
compared to overbearing guys like her ex.

The bartender, a round Hispanic man who
looked like a good-natured grandfather, came to their table. “These
are from the man over there.” He jerked his head toward the other
end of the empty bar as he sat a beer and a margarita on the bar,
then followed their gazes to the vacant stools.

“Weird. I saw him there a minute ago. Oh
well, he paid already, so enjoy.” He smiled and walked away.

Ian’s right hand trembled and moved toward
the beer. He covered it with his left.

Brie placed a hand atop his. Mmm. Big, strong
hands. “Are you all right? You’re a little pale.”

“Fine, fine.” His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Well, Buster sounds like a sweet boy. I hope
I can meet him sometime,” Brie said, pushing a lock of hair behind
her ear.

He licked his lips, which drew her gaze from
his shaking hands to his full mouth.

“I’m sure you will.” His shyness fled as he
spoke. “I like you a lot.” He brought a knuckle to her chin.

“I like you too.” A strange vibration,
different from her usual tingle, began in her skull.
Don’t flip!
Not here. Not in front of Ian.
She didn’t want to have to lie
to him.

But she didn’t flip. Instead, her body
burned.

Brie hoped her face didn’t show the sudden
and almost unexpected thoughts running through her mind. How would
his strong arms feel, pulling her close? Would his lips be as soft
and warm as they looked?

She picked up a napkin and fanned her warming
cheeks. What was wrong with her? She’d never had thoughts like this
about a relative stranger before Ian had walked through the door.
Except perhaps for in her dream, or vision, or whatever it had
been. Of course, she’d never before had this sense of having known
someone she couldn’t possibly know.

It wasn’t in her nature to be
that
forward but now she wanted to be. She wanted to stand up, straddle
his lap, and kiss him hard. The draw was almost more than she could
bear.

Ian leaned in, placed a knuckle beneath her
chin, and pulled her mouth up. He rubbed his lips across hers in a
gentle caress. For a moment, they shared a breath, in and out. Then
he deepened the kiss. His tongue met hers in gentle exploration,
and desire made her skin crackle with need. Something about him
called to her like no man ever had before—the familiarity comforted
and electrified her at the same time. She wrapped her arms around
his neck and sighed.

He ran his hands up and down her back. The
gentle caress lit a fire inside her. A simple kiss shouldn’t have
such power.

She moaned and leaned into him, pressing her
breasts against the firm wall of his chest.

“You two are going to have to take it
somewhere else.”

Brie broke off the kiss, glanced toward the
bartender, and smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”

“You want to get out of here?” Ian’s gaze met
hers, all embers and flames, like something from a dream.

Brie nodded, entranced again. Ian stood,
swiped his card to pay, and held out a hand. Brie all but floated
with him toward the door. Her fingers curled in his hair as his
truck raced along the road. She desired him, and had since he first
walked into the restaurant, but now it was as if something pushed
them toward the next step. Things were moving faster than nature
intended. The buzzing in her head screamed it, but her body, and
even her heart, ignored the protest. She was ready for orgasm, and
in spite of the unnatural feeling driving her, she couldn’t bring
herself to fight it. She wanted him, wanted this.

She kissed his neck, moisture building
between her thighs. In moments, though she knew it must have taken
longer, they pulled up to a cabin-style house. Then he was at her
door and helping her down from the seat before she realized he’d
moved.

Ian’s mouth met hers again as they glided up
the walk. She couldn’t stop herself from touching him. Not even for
a minute. He tripped on the stair, and she fell with him, laughing.
He stood, holding out a hand to her and a moment later, they were
inside. His fingers explored her skin, sending shocks of sensation
snaking along her flesh. She fought the urge to jerk her panties to
her knees.

She shouldn’t be doing this. Would he
understand, if he discovered who she was?

 Brie ripped his shirt open.

Here she was, doing the very thing she’d
wanted to avoid.

Buttons clacked to the tile and rolled across
the entryway.

Giving herself to him without his knowing who
she really was. Did that count as a lie? None of it mattered
because she couldn’t stop her hands as they ran over his chest and
neck.

He snarled and jerked her dress off her
shoulders, kissing and licking her collarbone and throat.

She should be fighting the impulse to touch
him, but she couldn’t convince her fingers to stop. Their
relationship, if that’s what this was, hadn’t developed on truth or
lies. It hadn’t truly developed at all. Still, in spite of that,
she wanted nothing more than his skin on hers.

The cold wall against her back didn’t
penetrate the heat radiating through her. His lips met hers, his
tongue finding its way into her mouth again. His touch seemed so
familiar and so right. Oh, to forget reality. To close her eyes and
sink into the pleasure of it. Of him.