StrokeofMidnight by Naima Simone Read Free Book Online

his throat. Rowyn had that effect on
him—she had since the moment he’d laid eyes on her months ago, sitting alone
down the length of the nightclub bar.
    Thinking back on how they’d met and spent their first—and
only—night together, Darius could imagine why Rowyn believed he picked up women
and often indulged in one-night stands. He wasn’t a saint—his halo would’ve
been repossessed a long time ago—but it had been years since he’d done anything
so promiscuous. Rowyn had been the exception to the rule. And their time
together would have exceeded more than a few hours if she had remained in his
bed…remained with him.
    No, he hadn’t fallen in love with her that night. He studied
the straight line of her spine as she crossed the room to stand before the
window. But images of her, of those sex-filled hours, lingered in his head,
never fading. And when he’d seen her the evening before in her parents’ home,
an inexplicable joy—as though he’d found something precious that had been lost
to him—had seized hold of his chest.
    Lost. It described the heartbroken woman he’d held in
his arms on the park bench. Jesus. Those ragged cries had ripped his heart from
his chest. Without conscious thought, he rubbed his breastbone and imagined he
could massage away the echo of pain still resonating hours later. He would have
given anything to shoulder her hurt and grief. Witnessing the proud, strong
woman he’d come to know curl against him as if attempting to escape herself had
stirred something in him—something that had lain dormant until that moment.
Suddenly he yearned to protect, shelter…keep. He couldn’t turn back time and
wipe out her pain. But he could make damn sure it didn’t touch her in the
present or future.
    Being able to offer her the necklace had transformed him into
Hercules. He’d wanted to beg Rowyn to give him something else he could do for
her. Just to see happiness light up her dark eyes again.
    Damn, she was lovely. He stared at her striking profile. All
sleek lines and gorgeous curves. The modest hem of her dress bared long, toned
legs. He’d had the pleasure of those slender brown limbs locked around his
waist, over his shoulders. He wanted that again. Needed it again. His
cock hardened in complete agreement.
    Lust tempered by a softer but no less intense emotion hummed
through his body like an electrical current. Plans for dinner relegated to later ,
he approached her. In a replay of the night before, he paused behind her, close
enough for the dark strands of her ponytail to tickle his chin. And he drew
closer still, until her lower back cradled his straining dick and his chest
pressed to her shoulder blades. Unlike last night, he didn’t allow a polite
distance between them. Nothing but her dress and his pants separated his cock
from riding the shallow dip below her spine. It still wasn’t enough. He rubbed
his cheek against the heavy silk of her hair. It wouldn’t be until her pussy
surrounded his cock with its blistering heat.
    “Are you smelling my hair again?”
    He smiled at the softly spoken question, acknowledging the
attempt at humor but detecting the shiver beneath. Trepidation or arousal? He
clasped her waist, his thumbs meeting on the ridges of her spine. Yet he didn’t
linger. His breathing deepened as desire punched a hole in his stomach and he
slid his hands up the sides of her slender torso, not stopping until he cupped
the undersides of her generous breasts. Generous, beautiful breasts—he
gave the mounds a light squeeze.
    Rowyn stiffened, gasped and released the sweetest whimper
he’d ever heard. It echoed the need that stiffened his cock, gripped his balls
and twisted his gut.
    “God, that’s sweet,” he murmured and flicked his thumbs
across the hard nipples poking against the thin fabric of her dress. His reward
came in the form of another needy moan. She dropped her head back and rested it
on his shoulder. Quick bursts of air parted her lips and