Tempt Me at Midnight (16 page)

“Quentin, I—”

Just then the first batch of her students arrived, the sound of their laughter and voices echoing around the large, industrial kitchen.

Lexi’s eyes flew wide. Seized by panic, she stared up at Quentin. The wicked amusement in his eyes only heightened her alarm. He had her at his complete mercy, and he knew it. If her students caught her having sex in the pantry, she’d not only lose her job; she could pretty much forget about teaching at any other respectable culinary school.

Watching her face, Quentin slid out of her with excruciating slowness, stopping just at the tip. A scream rose in her throat, threatening to explode from her lips.

“Say yes,” he whispered.

Yes!
she mouthed desperately.

He brought his cheek next to hers, sucking her earlobe, murmuring at her ear,

“What was that, sweetness? I couldn’t hear you.”

Ruthless cad!

“Yes,” she hissed into his ear.

A slow, satisfied smile curved his mouth.

“I have to go,” she whispered frantically, circling her hips against his, begging him to finish what he’d started.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

Holding her gaze, he eased all the way back into her, inch by inch, so that she could feel the slow slide of her juices as her body sheathed him. She nearly came right then, and had to bite her lip hard to suppress a mewling cry of ecstasy.

Eyes glinting devilishly, Quentin began thrusting into her as more voices entered the kitchen. Lexi grabbed his taut, round butt, urging him to go harder and faster.

Thankfully, he was so aroused that he cooperated. Soon their coupling grew frenzied, both fueled by the knowledge that they could be discovered at any moment.

When Quentin finally whispered,
“Now,”
Lexi’s inner muscles tightened around him, clenching and spasming as pleasure tore through her.

Quentin slanted his mouth over hers, smothering the wild cry she’d been unable to hold back. A moment later he shuddered deeply, coming in a rush of scalding heat that flooded her womb. Locked together, chests heaving, bodies trembling, they stared at each other.

From outside the door, one of the students speculated, “Maybe we’re not supposed to be in the kitchen today.”

“I could have sworn we were,” another voice spoke up. “But maybe not. The holiday break’s still throwing us off.”

“Let’s go see if she’s in the classroom.”

Lexi held her breath, waiting to see if any stragglers would remain behind. When the room grew mercifully silent, she exhaled a deep sigh of relief and whispered a prayer of undying gratitude.

Chuckling softly, Quentin gave her a quick kiss, then unwrapped her legs from his waist and set her back down on the floor.

As they hurriedly fixed their clothes, Lexi shot him a dark glance. “I am
so
gonna kill you for this,” she hissed.

“Why? You didn’t get caught.”

“I could have!”

“But you didn’t.” He grinned. “It’s a sign.”

“Of what?”

“That we’re meant to be together.”

She scowled, yanking down her chef’s jacket. “Because we didn’t get caught having sex at my workplace?”

“Exactly.” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “It also means we can make this a new Friday ritual.”

“I don’t think so!”

Quentin laughed, dark and wicked.

Without conscious thought Lexi reached up to straighten his silk tie. He ran a hand over her hair, smoothing down the disheveled strands as he smiled into her eyes. “What time is dinner tonight?”

Her lips twitched. “Don’t push your luck.”

Grabbing his hand, she tugged him toward the door. She opened it a crack and peeked out just to make sure the coast was really clear. Seeing the empty kitchen, she crept out of the pantry with Quentin in tow.

“Now get out of here before my students come back,” she told him, trying to shoo him out the door.

He didn’t budge.

“What now, Quentin?” she whined in exasperation.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“About what?”

“Dinner.”

She heaved a resigned sigh. “Fine. Be at my house at seven.”

Leaning down, he captured her lips in a deep, lingering kiss that liquefied her bones.

As she sighed and swayed into him, he drew back and winked at her. “I’ll be there at six.”

And then he turned and sauntered out the door, whistling so cheerfully that Lexi could only shake her head and laugh.

T
hat night, sated from a lavish dinner and two hours of passionate lovemaking, Lexi and Quentin lay spooned together under a blanket on the living room floor. A cozy fire crackled in the hearth, and soft, romantic ballads serenaded them from the CD player.

Lexi had made coq au vin and opened a bottle of wine. Instead of eating in the formal dining room, they’d headed to the living room and spread a big, thick quilt across the floor. And then they’d fed each other, sharing kisses between bites and sipping from the same glass.

Wrapped in Quentin’s strong arms, cocooned in heat and steel, Lexi thought she could get
very
used to nights like this.

“What’re you thinking about?” Quentin murmured, nuzzling the nape of her neck.

She sighed, a soft, dreamy sigh. “Fate.”

“Fate?”

“Mmm-hmm. I wasn’t even supposed to be at that party the night we met. I had planned to go home for the weekend.”

“Really? I never knew that.”

She grimaced. “I got into a heated argument on the phone with my mother. So I decided not to go home after all. But my friends had already left for the party, so I didn’t have a ride. I could have caught the bus, but I didn’t have the address of the party. So I’d resigned myself to spending a miserable Friday night alone.”

Quentin’s cheek was now resting gently against hers. “So what happened?”

“I stepped out of my dorm room to get a snack, and that’s when I ran into some girls who were heading out to the party. I had a class with one of them, so she kindly offered to let me catch a ride with them if I hurried up and got ready.” Lexi smiled softly. “So just think. If I hadn’t argued with my mother, stayed on campus and run into those girls, I wouldn’t have gone to the party. Which means I wouldn’t have met you that night. Possibly never.”

A stillness settled over Quentin. “That,” he said quietly, “would have been unthinkable.”

She closed her eyes. “I know.”

Silence lapsed between them, both marveling at the simple twist of fate that had brought them into each other’s lives.

After a few moments, Quentin kissed her cheek and murmured huskily, “Let’s go into the bedroom.”

Her mouth went dry. “In a little while.”

He dragged his lips to her bare shoulder, nipping her gently. “I’d rather go now.”

She felt his heavy erection thickening against her butt, felt an answering tug of arousal between her thighs. But she wasn’t ready to go into the bedroom yet. She wasn’t ready to face the demons that haunted her, especially on this day.

Quentin had grown still again. “Lex—”

She sat up abruptly, dislodging the blanket. “While we’re taking a stroll down memory lane, you’re not going to
believe
what I came across the other day when I was cleaning out my closet.”

Propping himself up on one elbow, Quentin watched as she padded quickly to the entertainment center and knelt down to retrieve an old videocassette. She popped it into the VCR/DVD combo and pressed fast forward until she reached the desired starting point, which she’d memorized years ago.

As she grabbed the remote control and rejoined Quentin on the blanket, he gave her a darkly amused glance that told her he knew she was stalling for time. She wondered if he knew why.

Shoving aside the uneasy thought, she grinned broadly at him. “You’re gonna get
such
a kick out of this.”

“Hmm,” was his noncommittal response.

She hit play.

The television screen was filled with an image of several cloaked figures huddled around a circle. The eerie, haunting strains of gothic music could be heard playing in the background.

Recognizing the footage from an old college step show, Quentin groaned in amused disbelief.

Lexi grinned. “Shh! Here comes the best part.”

As they watched, the cloaked specters suddenly dropped to a crouch, revealing two tall, familiar figures in the middle of the circle. They stood back to back, their black hoods drawn menacingly low over their faces.

The sinister organ music abruptly segued to a pulsing drum solo. With military precision, the hooded cloaks were ripped off, and Quentin and Michael exploded into an electrifying step number that had their muscled chests gleaming and hips undulating in a fierce, primal rhythm that made every female in the crowd scream like fans at a rock concert. Lexi knew—she’d been one of them.

Even now, she couldn’t help fanning herself as she whistled and cheered at the television.

At the first note of “Atomic Dog,” the other members of the group launched into the routine with a synchronized series of stomps, kicks and hand claps that brought the audience to its feet with a roar of approval.

As the performance ended, Lexi clapped loudly and whooped with delight while Quentin chuckled and shook his head.

“Those were the days,” she fondly reminisced. “Man, you and Mike had some
serious
moves!”

“Had?”
Quentin pretended to be affronted.

She rolled her eyes at him in laughing exasperation. “Don’t worry, baby. You can still work it.” She winked. “And not just on a stage either.”

“That’s better,” he grumbled, lips quirking at the corners.

Not only were Quentin and Michael the best dancers; they’d also been the best-looking members of their fraternity. So they’d often been used to kick off the group’s performances.

“You and Mike were
so
exploited,” Lexi teased.

Quentin chuckled. “We didn’t exactly mind.”

“I guess not, considering you two got all the ladies.”

Quentin flashed a cocky grin and flexed his arm, the tattooed bicep bulging impressively. “Recognize.”

“What!” Lexi grabbed the throw pillow she’d been lying on and smacked him upside the head with it. “Recognize
this!
”

Laughing, Quentin wrestled her to the floor and pinned her beneath his big, heavy body. She giggled, squirming and bucking her hips in a comically futile attempt to dislodge him. When she saw the wicked intent in his eyes, she shook her head in desperate entreaty.

“Oh, no. Please not that. I beg of y—” Her plea choked off into a squeal as Quentin dug his fingertips into the secret spot between her ribs that he’d discovered years ago.

As he tickled her, Lexi shrieked with hysterical laughter, her head rocking back and forth against the blanket.

“Not so big and bad now, huh?” Quentin taunted. “All I gotta do is find your kryptonite.”

“Q,” she gasped, laughing so hard that tears ran from the corners of her eyes,

“please…
stop!
”

He grinned. “Naw. You need to be taught a lesson, woman.”

“Please!”

“Uh-uh.”

“You’re gonna make me wet myself!”

Those marauding fingers paused. “Well, now, considering that we’re
both
naked, that might not be such a good thing.”

Lexi’s next howl of laughter joined his as he relented, wrapping his arms around her and rolling over so that she was on top. She clung to his neck, gasping and trying to catch her breath.

Gradually she became aware of his hot, rigid erection prodding her belly. His hands stroked down her back, then cupped the swell of her bottom. As currents of sensation flooded her loins, she sighed and murmured without thinking, “This is the kind of scenario Adam always thought he’d walk in on.”

Instantly she knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

Quentin’s body locked up like he’d been tasered with a stun gun.

When she raised her head to look down at him, his eyes cut straight through her like the laser-driven scope of a rifle.

“What the hell did you just say?” he demanded.

Lexi swallowed hard. Wordlessly she rolled off him and sat up, pulling the blanket over her body. Her nudity suddenly felt uncomfortable. Too revealing.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, staring at Quentin as he propped himself up on one elbow and snapped the other edge of the blanket over his waist. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Too late.” His voice was flat. Hard. “Now repeat it so I can make sure my ears weren’t deceiving me.”

She drew a long, shaky breath. “I never told you this, though maybe you could sense it, but Adam hated our friendship.
Hated it.
He felt threatened by our closeness, and sometimes it made him lash out in cruel ways.”

Quentin stared at her, looking as if the blood had suddenly drained from his head.

“Did he ever—”

“No, he never hit me. That wasn’t really his style,” she said, bitterly mocking. “He was more into psychological abuse.”

Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Lexi squeezed her own eyes shut, as if by doing so, she could block out the painful memories. “If I wore a certain blouse or skirt, he’d sneer at me and ask me if I was going to see you that day. When you came over one time while he was supposed to be on a business trip, he swore up and down that we were having an affair. And sometimes when we made love he’d taunt me, accusing me of wanting you in our bed instead of him, asking me if you were a better lover and if you had a bigger ‘jackhammer,’ as he crudely put it. He made me feel so dirty when he talked like that, and
not
in a good way.” She shuddered convulsively.

Quentin was deadly silent.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle I didn’t let him poison our friendship,” she continued grimly. “I think that’s what he wanted. And I think it gave him some sort of sadistic pleasure to bring women into our bed. It’s like he was getting even with me for something he thought I’d done, or wanted to do.” Her mouth twisted cynically. “In the end, when I demanded a divorce, he had the nerve to claim that my friendship with you drove him to cheat.
That’s
when I really knew how depraved he was.”