Breathless in Black

Chapter One

Jolee stood in the living room of Kyle’s apartment, shaking her head in disbelief. It couldn’t be, and yet the moans of pleasure coming from the bedroom were unmistakable. She knew those lusty sighs well. Kyle made them every time he was about to come.

Feeling anger warring with her sense of disbelief, she moved across the living room, her feet sinking into the deep carpeting and down the hall. She took a deep breath before she put her head around the open bedroom door.

They hadn’t bothered to turn the light off, so she had an excellent view of the naked couple in the middle of the bed. With his long, thick hair caught in a band, Kyle was on his knees with his groin pressed close to the quivering hips of a young, slender female. He clutched her small breasts in his hands as he repeatedly thrust his cock into her. Each time he did, the woman moaned and shuddered, pushing her hips back against Kyle, causing him to emit the lusty sigh Jolee knew so well.

As she watched, unable to look away, he suddenly leaned over the woman’s back, wrapped an arm around her waist, and began pummeling his cock in and out of her with hard, rapid thrusts. The woman moaned louder, and in a matter of moments, Jolee saw Kyle’s come dripping down the woman’s thigh.

The bastard was having unprotected sex with another woman! As the realization sank it, she cried out, feeling as if her heart had been wretched from her body. Kyle! You bastard!

The couple on the bed scrambled apart. Kyle stared at her with wide, guilty eyes, while the woman—woman?—she looked barely legal—the girl cast one horrified look at Jolee and dived from the bed onto the floor.

Kyle casually climbed off the bed and strolled towards her. Jolee… let me explain.

Explain? What’s to explain? She glanced down at his stiff shaft. The same cock that had given her so much pleasure was now bare. And covered with the juices and bodily fluids from himself and his jailbait lover. Her stomach heaved. She turned and ran back down the hall.

Jolee! Damn it! Let me explain.

She reached the apartment door. Before she could yank it open, Kyle was behind her, shoving it closed and pressing his nude body against her back. She put her hands on the closed door and tried to push away from him. Let me go!

Instead, he turned her around and looked down at her. Not until you let me explain.

Explain? What’s to explain? I just caught you screwing a female who can’t be more than eighteen, for God’s sake. You cheating, faithless bastard!

He shrugged, flashing the crooked grin she’d once loved so much. Don’t overreact, Jo. It was just a fuck. It means nothing, changes nothing between you and me.

The hell it doesn’t! I never want to see you again!

Oh, is that right? He smiled, put his hands on his hips, and thrust his cock toward her. And just where do you think you’re going to find another sugar dick like this?

She stifled the urge to roll her eyes and glared up at him instead. Don’t you worry about me, Kyle. This may come as a surprise to you, but you don’t own the market on big dicks. There are lots of them in this city. And I’m going to find one that belongs to a man who understands that I don’t share. Either you’re faithful, or I don’t need or want it or you. Now get away from me!

She pushed against his shoulders with all her strength. When that did not budge him, she lifted a knee toward his groin, and he moved her knee and stumbled back away from her.

Before he could recover, she yanked open the door and ran down the hallway to the stairs, her eyes filling with tears. She hated him. She hated all men. Damn them all. The only thing they were good for was screwing. Damn if she’d let another man touch her heart.

Screw her? Yes. Mean anything to her? No.

Never again.

* * *

Daniel looked at the woman on the other side of his desk. She sat with her hands folded in her lap. A short brown wig covered her head. Her dress, old-fashioned, long-sleeved, and black, ended just above her ankles. She almost reminded him of someone’s grandmother, although not his own elderly but chic grandmother.

He’d seen no woman who did less to attract a man. Still, there was something about this woman that sparked his interest. God only knew what it might be. He smiled. When can you start?

She blinked behind the thick lenses of her glasses. I have the job?

She had a low, slightly husky voice he found incredibly sexy. Absolutely!

Oh. Don’t you want to check my references, Mr. Skywalker?

He should do that, but something about her felt right. Nevertheless, she had a point. He skimmed through her neat handwritten references before looking up at her again. These are fine, and you can cook?

She nodded firmly. I’m told my cooking is above average.

Good. My appetite’s above average. We should get along fine. He grinned at her and received a cool stare in response. He wiped the smile off his face. You understand you must keep the house clean? All three floors and the rec room?

Yes, but I don’t do windows, Mr. Skywalker.

He stifled a sigh. What was the point of having live-in help if you had to do your own windows? Fine, but please call me Daniel.

Thank you, but I don’t believe that would be appropriate.

She had to be pulling his leg. He stared at her. Even with those unfashionable glasses and that awful wig, she didn’t look over fifty years old. Which would make her ten years his senior.

Suit yourself, Mrs. Randall, he said lightly, only just stopping himself from smiling at her again.

It’s Ms. Randall, Mr. Skywalker.

She spoke in a low, sharp voice that drew his attention to her mouth. It was lovely with soft, sensuous-looking, and a man could die happy kissing those luscious-looking lips.

Heat rushed up the back of his neck. He turned his gaze onto a safer target—her hands still resting in her lap. Her long, slender fingers looked too soft for a domestic worker. She wore no ring finger on her left hand. She seemed old-fashioned enough to mind her single status. Which explained the tension emanating from her. Either that or she needed a little loving.

Ms., he repeated, surprised to wonder why she’d never married. Okay, so she dressed wretchedly, wore no make-up, and refused to smile. He cast a quick glance at her lips. When she was younger, her mouth must have been highly enticing. Hell, it still looked quite kissable.

He forced his gaze onto the thick lens of her glasses. Her eyes looked deep, the kind a man could happily lose himself in. When can you start, Ms. Randall?

I’ll bring my things and be here in time to fix your breakfast tomorrow, Mr. Skywalker.

His stomach rumbled at the thought of breakfast in his own house. Cooked by a woman not hoping to rope him into marriage. His objection to marriage stemmed from its lack of permanence. When he finally gave his heart away, he didn’t want the recipient tossing it back at him a few years later, battered and broken.

But while he waited to give his heart away, he wasn’t exactly averse to the idea of taking an occasional lover. He wondered what kind of lover Jolee Randall would make. What did she like her men to do to make her happy? Would she welcome a younger man in her life?

He gave himself a mental shake. Get a grip, Skywalker. She’s