Read Online Her Knight in Black Leather by J. M. Stewart - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J. M. Stewart
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Michael Brant.”
No sooner had the name left her mouth than the memories flooded her mind, flashing like the snap of a camera light. When she was twelve, her mother had an affair with then-Senator Randall Brant, a very married, much older man. They were caught together on numerous occasions. There were even rumors he’d leave his wife for her. In the end, the senator paid her mother a large sum of money to disappear and keep quiet. It was why her parents divorced, and why they left Crest Point all those years ago. If she were doing her math right, Randall Brant would be Michael’s grandfather.
“Oh God.” Cat’s stomach plummeted as the fantasy of the night went
poof!
before her eyes. Michael was heir to a fortune. Here she was, the daughter of a woman who’d been well-known once for things that made Cat’s cheeks hot to think about.
Cat closed her eyes, shutting out the images. She’d spent her whole adult life running from the filth of her mother’s reputation. Now here it was, staring her in the face again.
A quiet thunk against the wall drifted to her, and Michael’s now familiar scent invaded her senses. His warm, soft fingers stroked her cheek. “Say something, Cat.”
She opened her eyes, caught once again like a fish on a hook in those fathomless dark eyes. He was here, telling her this, because he no doubt wondered what she’d think of him. The worry in those dark, searching eyes all but screamed that at her. But what would he think of her when he found out who
she
was?
Breaking the contact, she turned back to the cabinets, pulling open one in search of coffee mugs.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
That you were someone even in my dreams I could never have?
She wanted to hold on to the fantasy of her night with him, to cherish it. Now, the fantasy evaporated. Too much stood between them. Too many complications. The differences between her and Michael had become about so much more than him being a drifter. They were from two different worlds. Men like him, from families like his, dabbled in women like her from the wrong side of the tracks. Nick had taught her that. Even the secretary she’d caught him with was simply a toy to him.
A beat of silence passed, and Michael let out a heavy exhalation behind her, a sound of acceptance, defeat, dejection. He stepped up behind her, his warm, solid body pressing against her back, pinning her where she stood. Reaching around her, he opened a cabinet door, revealing a shelf full of glasses and mugs. “Because I was afraid.”
His words and the truth behind them settled into her core. She knew that feeling. Too well. “Of what?”
“What did you need from me last night, Cat?” His hot breath teased her neck, the sensitive skin below her earlobe, and images invaded her mind. Of his mouth latching on there, leaving his mark. The possessive look in his eyes when he plunged inside her body, claimed her as his. How simultaneously wrong and right it felt to be claimed that way. They were strangers, yet deep down, she couldn’t deny she gave him a piece of herself last night.
“I wanted the fantasy. You were a little wild, a little dangerous. A Harley-riding bad boy in black leather with a wicked gleam in your eye who challenged anyone to try to judge you.”
A faint chuckle sounded behind her, so infectious one corner of her mouth curled in response.
“You were everything I wanted to be and exactly the type of man I never go for.”
“Is that why you took that ride with me? Spent the night with me? Because I’m different?”
She hesitated, her heart stalling in her chest, then shook her head. She spent the night with him because the façade intrigued her. The unexplainable pull between them and the uninhibited desire in his eyes sucked her in. The tenderness of his touch overwhelmed her.
He
overwhelmed her.
“No. I did it because I felt safe with you.” Safe to fulfill a fantasy without fear of it getting out of control, without fear
No sooner had the name left her mouth than the memories flooded her mind, flashing like the snap of a camera light. When she was twelve, her mother had an affair with then-Senator Randall Brant, a very married, much older man. They were caught together on numerous occasions. There were even rumors he’d leave his wife for her. In the end, the senator paid her mother a large sum of money to disappear and keep quiet. It was why her parents divorced, and why they left Crest Point all those years ago. If she were doing her math right, Randall Brant would be Michael’s grandfather.
“Oh God.” Cat’s stomach plummeted as the fantasy of the night went
poof!
before her eyes. Michael was heir to a fortune. Here she was, the daughter of a woman who’d been well-known once for things that made Cat’s cheeks hot to think about.
Cat closed her eyes, shutting out the images. She’d spent her whole adult life running from the filth of her mother’s reputation. Now here it was, staring her in the face again.
A quiet thunk against the wall drifted to her, and Michael’s now familiar scent invaded her senses. His warm, soft fingers stroked her cheek. “Say something, Cat.”
She opened her eyes, caught once again like a fish on a hook in those fathomless dark eyes. He was here, telling her this, because he no doubt wondered what she’d think of him. The worry in those dark, searching eyes all but screamed that at her. But what would he think of her when he found out who
she
was?
Breaking the contact, she turned back to the cabinets, pulling open one in search of coffee mugs.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
That you were someone even in my dreams I could never have?
She wanted to hold on to the fantasy of her night with him, to cherish it. Now, the fantasy evaporated. Too much stood between them. Too many complications. The differences between her and Michael had become about so much more than him being a drifter. They were from two different worlds. Men like him, from families like his, dabbled in women like her from the wrong side of the tracks. Nick had taught her that. Even the secretary she’d caught him with was simply a toy to him.
A beat of silence passed, and Michael let out a heavy exhalation behind her, a sound of acceptance, defeat, dejection. He stepped up behind her, his warm, solid body pressing against her back, pinning her where she stood. Reaching around her, he opened a cabinet door, revealing a shelf full of glasses and mugs. “Because I was afraid.”
His words and the truth behind them settled into her core. She knew that feeling. Too well. “Of what?”
“What did you need from me last night, Cat?” His hot breath teased her neck, the sensitive skin below her earlobe, and images invaded her mind. Of his mouth latching on there, leaving his mark. The possessive look in his eyes when he plunged inside her body, claimed her as his. How simultaneously wrong and right it felt to be claimed that way. They were strangers, yet deep down, she couldn’t deny she gave him a piece of herself last night.
“I wanted the fantasy. You were a little wild, a little dangerous. A Harley-riding bad boy in black leather with a wicked gleam in your eye who challenged anyone to try to judge you.”
A faint chuckle sounded behind her, so infectious one corner of her mouth curled in response.
“You were everything I wanted to be and exactly the type of man I never go for.”
“Is that why you took that ride with me? Spent the night with me? Because I’m different?”
She hesitated, her heart stalling in her chest, then shook her head. She spent the night with him because the façade intrigued her. The unexplainable pull between them and the uninhibited desire in his eyes sucked her in. The tenderness of his touch overwhelmed her.
He
overwhelmed her.
“No. I did it because I felt safe with you.” Safe to fulfill a fantasy without fear of it getting out of control, without fear
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