Page 49 of A Little Harmless Pleasure

“Cynthia.” He moaned her name as if it were a plea. “Baby—”

She slipped her mouth over the entire length of him, cutting off whatever he was going to say. Closing her eyes, she continued deep throating him, pushing him, wanting him to lose all control. His moans grew loader, his fingers threaded into her hair. As she caressed his sac one last time, she drew him in.

“Cynthia!”

He pumped his hips as his seed shot to the back of her throat. Cynthia didn’t stop her movements, continuing the rhythm until he stilled his hips.

With one last loving lick, she pulled him out of her mouth and looked up at him. The intensity in his eyes filled her with a combination of pride and tenderness. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. It was the first time she had pushed him this far, that she had completely controlled his orgasm. This had been about her control, her domination of him. From his behavior to his reaction, Chris had shown her that he understood just what it had been about.

She rose to her feet, took his hand, and led him to the bed. Quickly, she rid herself of her clothes, then joined him under the covers. Arousal still hummed, her sex still ached with need, but she knew it was more. The heightened excitement came from his pleasure, from his enjoyment of allowing her to make him come.

He wrapped his arms around her and brushed his lips over her forehead. “I haven’t taken care of you.”

She smiled against his skin. “Don’t you worry. You will. Let’s just rest here for a second.”

Pleased with the results of all her hard work, Cynthia let her thoughts drift. They’d turned a corner tonight. It was now her game, hers to control. She still had a way to go in her sexual development, but now that she had reached this point, there was no going back.

A slight breeze lifted Cynthia’s fair hair as she sipped her water and read the menu of a popular barbeque restaurant. The changes in her during the last month amazed Evan. No one would argue that she’d been attractive when she arrived. He’d always had a soft spot for Southern women. The slow, easy way their accent wrapped around words, as if savoring each one, drove him insane. How any man could be in a Southern belle’s presence and not think of lazy mornings in bed was beyond him. He might have even tried her on for size, but he didn’t poach—at least not from Chris.

“What’s good here?” she asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Their Carolina Barbeque is good. If you like pork.”

She glanced at him and smiled. “I’m a Southern girl at heart so of course I like pork. I think it’s a requirement.”

“That and sweet tea.”

She set down the menu. “Where are you from originally?”

Out of habit, his defenses rose up before he could stop them. Even something as simple as telling a person where he’d grown up brought back the memories he’d rather forget.

“South Carolina. Florenceville, mainly.”

She studied him for a second, then nodded. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to respond, but the waitress came over for their orders. After the young woman left, Cynthia turned her attention back to him.

“I have some family on my mama’s side up in that area. Do you know any of the Shipleys?”

Everyone did. One of the richest families in town, they employed a good portion of the working class in their businesses and their homes. Hell, his mother had earned a living cleaning the home of one of them. Before the drugs. Before the nightmare that became their lives. The darkness of his childhood pressed in on him. His chest contracted, his lungs seized. Sweat dampened his palms. Taking a moment, he mentally counted back from ten, but it did no good. Anger sharpened his voice when he answered. “No, not really.”

Apparently picking up on his tone, she changed the subject. “How did you and Chris meet?”

Still irritated, he asked, “Just what the hell do you want, Cynthia?”

Her eyes widened at the question. Cocking her head to one side, she studied him as if he were some kind of animal in the zoo. Other memories of dingy offices, overworked city employees, and the all-too-uncomfortable questions rushed at him so fast he couldn’t stop them.

“I thought we were supposed to get to know each other. Chris wants us to be at least friendly, if not friends.”

She didn’t know his past. Chris would never reveal that information without Evan’s permission. It wasn’t Cynthia’s fault that her innocent questions brought those things back up. He smiled to cover his mood.

“There is that. I think I’d like to be friendly with you.”

The waitress returned with their drinks. After she left, he continued. “I know we’re both doing this for Chris, but I wondered why you aren’t comfortable around me?”

Her eyes narrowed and fire snapped within the blue. His body reacted to the look, the anger that simmered beneath the cool Southern veneer. Damn but she would be a wildcat to break.

“What did Chris tell you?”

He held his hands up. “Hey, take it easy. Chris didn’t tell me anything. I swear.”

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